The pioneer press. (Miller, Hand County, S.D.) 1893-190?, 1898-11-03

You cannot do better, Ey child, than
accept Miss Hetherington's most gen.
erous invitation. The day after to-
morrow. as. you are aware, the sale
Will take place. and this will be no
longer your home. Miss Hetherington
Is good enough to offer you shelter
until such time as We can decide about
your future mode Of life"
Just so.' said the lady. lecisively
Pack your things, and come ava wi
me in the carriage"
4 know you are very kind" returned
Marjorie, and maybe you'll be think
ing I'm ungrateful. Mr.. Lorraine al
ways said you were my best friend.
But | cannot come with you to-day"
When will you Gomez" demanded
the lady.
Give me time, please" pleaded
Marjorie: lin day or two. maybe
after the sale. / should like TO stay
till can stay no more"
So it was settled, to Marjories great
relief; and Mr. Menteith led the erect
lady back to her carriage.
AT sunset that day, as Marjorie left
the manse and crossed over to the old
churchyard, she was accosted by John
sutherland, who had been waiting at
the gate some time in expectation of
her appearance. She gave him her
hand sadly, and they stood together
talking in the road.
They tell me you are going to stop
at the Castle. Is that so. Marjorie?"
I'm not sure; maybe"
III you go, may / come to see YOU
there? / shan't be long in Annandale.
In a few weeks l am going back 10 Lon
don"
He paused, as if expecting her to
make some remark: but she did not
speak, and her thoughts seemed far
away.
Marjorie he continued, II wish I
could say something to comfort you in
your trouble. for, though my heart is
full, l can hardly find my tongue. 1t
seems as if all the old life was break
ing up under our feet and carrying us
far asunder. For the sake of old times
we shall be friends still, shall we
not?"
'Ycs, Johnnie, of course" was the re-
ply You've aye been very good to
me-"
Because l loved you, Marjorie. All,
don't be angry-don't turn away-for
I'm not going to presume again upon
our old acquaintance. But now that
death has come our way, and all the
future seems clouding. want to say
Just this-that come what may, / shall
never change. I'm not asking you to
care for me-Tm not begging you this
time to give me what you've maybe
given to another man; but | want you
to be sure, whatever happens, that
you've one faithful friend at least in
the world, who would die to serve you,
for the sake of what you were to him
lang synes'
The words were so gentle. the tone &c
low and tender, the manner of the man
so full Of melancholy sympathy and
respect that Marjorie was deeply
touched.
"Oh. Johnnie" she said, you know
have always loved you-always trust
ed you, as IL you were my brother"
"As your brother, then. let it be-" an
swered Sutherland sadly. Il don't care
what title it is, so long as it gives me
the right to watch over you"
To this Marjorie said nothing. She
continued to walk quietly onward. and
Sutherland kept by ftr side. Thus
they passed togetheS through the
| churchyard and came TO the spot where
Mr.. Lorraine was at rest. Here she
| fell upon her knees and quietly kissed
the grave.
Had Sutherland been less moved by
his own grief, he might have noticed
something strange in the girls man
ner. for she kissed the ground almost
passionately. and murmured between
her sobs, "Good-by, good-byw
She was recalled to herself by Suth-
! erland's voice.
Don't cry, Marjorie" he said.
"Ah. l can't help it, she sobbed.
You are all so good to me--far better
than deserve"
They left the churchyard together,
and wandered back TO the manse gate.
When they paused again. Sutherland
took her hand and kissed 1t.
"Good-by, Johnnie"
NO, not good-by. | may come and
see you again. Marjorie, mayn't /, be-
fore / go away"
Eyes" she returned, cliff YOU