The St. Johns herald., 1899-06-24
T is disgraceful," cried Gertrude
 Foster, passionately.

1ue young Hdu was lylng Ill a nam mock, swung at the end of the piazza his sister was seated near him, in a rocking chair, which she kept in vigor- Ous motion, as though thereby trying to accentuate her remarks concerning the letter she held in her hand.
 A boy about 16 years of age was lOunging on the steps, with novel be- fore him, but the contents of that epis- tie had apparently taken away his in- terest in the story, for he was not read ing.
 You surely are not surprised, Ger trude," continued the occupant of the hammock. "T have been noticing for some time the care father took in mak- ing his toilet, when he went out on business. Businessp' laughing deris- ively; "my stern parent never fooled me much. I thought he was going a-wooing"
 "Yes," returned Gertrude. "But how can man with a heart fall in love again-so soon, anyway"
 Maybe she was his first love, from whom he was separated by a misun- derstanding," said Harold, putting his l hand over his heart sentimentally.
 Hello! the rain has stopped-and there comes livery stable carriage. How dramatic! Rain stops, enter hero! l Come along, Jim; we would not be here ! to embarrass the greetings of two i young and loving hearts," He disap- i peared through the door, while Jim slowly followed in his lazy, languid way, saying, "Tell Dick I will see him at supper
 By this time the carriage had entered the gates and was coming rapidly up the long avenue that led to the house. The Fosters prided themselves on their well-kept grounds, especially the drive from the lodge gate to the house, which was bordered on either side by maple trees.
 They gave a delightful shade during the summer months, and their gorge Ous foliage in the fall made the Foster place the glory of the neighborhOod.
 But neither Richard nor Gertrude thought of the naples as he was driv 1 ing under them that afternoon. He had been abroad two years; his only thought was that, at last, he was really to be with his fiancee once more. While she forgot her fathers second marriage, in joy of seeing her lover again.
 But after they had been together an hour or two Gertrude remembered the letter and her face fell.
 70, Dickr' she said, father is mar ried again. 1 received a note just a few minutes before you came, telling me about it. He said he should be home in a few days and wanted me to have everything done to make her hom a-cOming pleasant"
 Dick looked grave-then replied: ''Well, 1t will be only for little time, but" cheerfully, "I will take you away rigbG off, if you like"
 Gertrude laughed. 70! guess can support her presence few weeks, but isn't it dreadful-for man to get mar ried a second time."
 Awful" he returned, with convic- ton, Then, after a seconds pause: "I mea as a rule; of course, there are ex- ceptiOnal cases. That reminds me-" he added; ''you have heard me speak of my aunt Marion?'
 "1'he aunt who, you say, has redeem ed the race of old maids in your esti- nation" asked Gertrude.
 "-rhe same," he answered. "Well, motAer wrote me some time ago that she was going to be married. suppose 1 shall hear all about it tonight when 1 go home. You know" he continued, "a great many years ago Aunt Marion fell in love. She was boarding in the country at the time, and, although he reciprOcated her affection, they had not confessed their mutual attachment when her nearest friend came to board at the same place. This young lady also was fascinated by the same gentleman, and began to think how she could SUD- plant my aunt in his estimation. She had recourse to strategy; told number less falsehOods to both of them, and managed, in short space of time, to provoke quarrel between them.
 Aunt Marion was proud and sensi- tive, sought no explanation from her whi!om admirer, trusted her friend, and lost her lover.
 ''In a year or two she hearo of their marriage, which opened her eyes a lit tie and caused the girlish friendship to be broken off. Two years ago she re- n lott ic 1t seems, was dying, confessing the whole truth. She also left an explana- ton for her husband, which he found when she was dead. After a while Aunt Marion acceded to the widower's repeated entreaties to be allowed to call, and in few months they were en- gagged 1 guess my prospective uncle | made the other woman good husband, but he did not really love her, for his | wife wrote that he had never forgotten 1 his first love, and only married her in gratitude for the sympathy and tender ness she showed when telling how my | aunt had deceived him. think" con- tinued Richard, "thatl would never have made known the truth if had | been in her place. But I suppose the | voice of conscience gets loud in the presence of death. It was tardy rep atiOn, though
 ''Dck, what is your aunt's name? asked Gertrude, abruptly.
 "Why, the same as my mOther's," he answered, somewhat astOnished at the question; Moore, Marion Moore. Pret- ty name, isn't it?' he added. ''Too pret- i ty to change, I think. Why, Gertie,