The times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1897-1901, 1901-03-03

said u have a letter which simply must
so 10y the 10 o'clock post. | will come in
again Tor an hour. il you will allow me,
when | have posted IT."
So I left them. and they settled down
happily to three-handed nap-Leouard
liked nap better than soio-and l slipped
through the orchard to the lane at the
other end. which 1 knew SO well. There
was q little old wurm-eaten gate in the
lane, leading into the kitchen garden or
Mclinda's home. and this was where 1
half hoped. half feared, to find her.
When l found that she was not there |
was ashamed TO own that ! felt little
pang of disappointment had spent
many pleasant half hours with Melinda at
that gate. / felt almost sentimental. and
a tender parting scene in the proper stage
manner would have been, in my present
frame Of mind, rather pleasant than 9TH
erwise. ! turned with sigh to go home.
1T was too good to last | told my
self dolefully. Melinda is the most
charming person in the world. but | ought
To have known that pretty little mouth OF
hers meant weakness and Inconsistency
l wish / had never gone away
/ was a fool to trust to her prom
ises What mercenary beasts her
people must be! Poor little thing,
No doubt she had an awful lot to put up
with. | suppose I might as well be gen
erOus and burn those letters II is
all | can do for her now I will
have a tragic bonfire of all my hopes and
happiness II the sittine-room crate when
! get in ana say goOd-by to love for once
and all.
l was staying In the end cottage of the
long red row which made up the village,
and my sitting-room was a pleasant little
place. with a lattice window. | pulled up
the blind ana drew my basket chair to the
fading light
Il might as well do the thing properly"
/ said, gloonily. and make myself thor
Oughly mist rable while | am about II. /
will read them ali through before | burn
them there must he quite hun
dred. / can't go back to the rectory to-
night. They will forget all about me II
they are playing cards" ! knew the rec
tor. and ] knew Leonard.
flung my hat viciously into corner,
and went to my desk to get the letters. II
was unlocked-nobody ever unlocks things
IN PettoVer-and ! lifted the lid and put
my hand into the corner in which | had
placed them. 1t was quite empty-the
packet had gone!
l could hardly believe my eyes. l must
have put hem somewhere else in my
sleep; and hastily | began to search the
few drawers and cupboardS my rooms con-
tanned. No; hey had vanished as com
pletely as If they had never been. | went
to the door and called my landlady to tell
her of my loss though | had no hope of
getting any Information from her One
had only to look in her face to see that In
that mass Of vacant stupidity there was
no room for curiosity OF even common in
telligeuce.
Has anyone been In" I asked while
I've been out?"
Not nobody, AS I knows on" she re-
piled. with her mouth open.
Have YOU been In an the evening"" 1
went on. in desperation.
Me- Lor. no. sir. I've been up at the
Red ,Ouse 'avin' a bit o supper With our
Martha Alice"
Did you lock the door when you went
out2r
Me? Lor, nc, SIR I'VE never lock the
doors afore bedtime There's no one. as
ud break I'm T. Pettover-let alone there
Dein' nuthin' TO take A
Well, they've found something at last"
4 said. But what they want with par
eel of old letters beats me. Do you sup
pose they took them for banknotes? And
then stopped suddenly, for | remembered
someone who did want those letters.
Mrs. Leach stopped and picked up