The herald., 1898-11-20
know about the letter till this after

| NOl iii IlOuE dSO.
Then Helen's face flushed scarlet
Shaken, confused, lifted off her feet b.
this revelation of her lovers lyint
treachery, she did not shrink or com
promise or slide away from the truth
| moment or two she hesitated, Will,
she looked unswervingly on the shame
full fact. Then she asked her father Il
he thought that Roy had been guilty
of taking and keeping his cousins let
| ter.
You may give him the benefit Of the
| doubt. if you wish to-" he answered
but 1 am most sure the lad is guilty
| II have no doubt she said. He
told me that he took the letter. He
| told me last night that he had given
it to Willie, and that Willie said 1t was
of no consequence. He lied to me. The
man is as bad as you think him, and
1 am a sorrowful woman this day.
Maybe do deserve the sorrow--I don't
| Just rightly know-but l do know that
| have bitter, shameful heartache,'
| and she laid her head upon her arms
and wept as only youth can weep.
! Her father bent tenderly over her.
! "My dear lass" he said, my dear
lass. The eternal God is thy refuge,
and underneath are the everlasting
arms. If Moses could rise to this
heighth, surely thou. with Christ to
help thee. can also reach It,"
With these words he left her-left
her alone in one of those dreary wastes
made by the loved who have deceived.
or deserted us; vacant places, watered
by the bitterest tears human creatures
ever shed. She felt then that all was
over All had been. Her love had
turned to ashes, and the wind had car
ried it away Up and down the past
her soul wandered, finding little COM
fort. for in this hour her conscience
told her plainly that she had been de-
ceived, because she wished to be de-
ceived
The next day It was known that Roy
Anderson had gone away In the night:
no one knew where to; and within a
month his boat was sold to pay the
obligations he had left. Then the
buyer put the name of his own sweet
heart on her. and that was the end Of
'The Bonnie Helen"
Very sorrowfully, to Helen Brodick,
the summer and autumn passed away.
She hoped against hope for some word
from her lover, but none came. At
first her father showed a wonderfully
delicate sympathy; he respected her
desire for solitude, and took pains to
keep from her the numerous instances
of Roy's want of honesty and princi-
pie. which every day, for some time
after his flight, came to public dis
cussion. But when the herring season
was over. and his few wheat and bar
ley fields reaped. and the winter was
closing upon them, he became irritat-
ed at her nursing grief for man so
unworthy. Her pale face, her eyes red
with weeping. and her listless, melan-
choly manner, were a wrong that he
felt it hard to bear.
About the end of November the min
lister received the cali to Glasgow he
had been expecting; and Robert Bro
dick went to the city to witness his in
stallation. He came back much de-
lighted with his visit The big kirk,
the handsome manse, the great congre-
cation. the minister's mother and her
fine cooking. We're constantly referred
to. Helen believed he was now trying
to induce her to marry this man of his
particular choice, and with all a wo-
mans contradiction she set her heart
against him. She refused to show any
pleasure in the Rev. Alexander Sharp's
kirk, or manse, or mother, and though
she really did enjoy her fathers de-
scriptions of the fine dining room and
the minister's study and the great peo-
pie whose worship he directed, she did
not suffer her white handsome face to
show the least interest in such CONVEX
sation.
More and more frequently Brodick
went to Glasgow, and on his return
from one of these visits he said to
Helen: THE minister is going to be
and you are bid to the we'd
ding"
She was certainly a little annoyed.
She had been for three years so sure
of this mans affection, and perhaps
there was deep in her consciousness a
thought that some day she might lis
ten to his wooing. And he had for
gotten her. She laughed little scorn-
fully, and asked
What kind of a lassie is to wear my
old shoes?"
81 have not seen her." answered Bro
dick; but his mother was saying 20
me that she was fair and bonnie
enough. She is but young thing, not
eighteen years auld, ant her father
has given her five thousand pounds as
a set off They are to be married in
three weeks, and if you are going to
the wedding, you be to have a dress
suitable"
II am not going. My heart is too
heavy for bride-guest in any house"
There was moments pause, and
then Brodick said with some stern
ness: Helen. Week after week,
and month after month, l have seen
you making yourself sick and auld-
looking, for a worthless, wicked man.
l am not liking it,
He was my promised husband. I
have a right to make myself sick and
ugly for him, if l want to-"
you have not. The laws Of the body,
its health and happiness, are as much
Gods laws as any other. Forbye, if
YOU even had the right to injure and
make yourself miserable, you have not
the right to injure and make me mis-
cradle. And you have turned my hap
py home into a house of tears and
and all for a man reprobate,
and not worth a good woman's thought
or care"
81 loved Roy: 1 love him yet"
"Then you had better be praying
for him than crying after him. l loved
YOUR mother. We lived twenty-five
years together in peace and joy, but
when it pleased God to take her from
me | did not make the house a valley
o. tears and gloom and neVer-ending
repining. I will have no more o it,
Put the man out O your mind. 1t IS