Condon globe. (Condon, Gilliam Co., Or.) 189?-1919, 1901-10-17

1
! saw that she had been crying. for her
lteness she asked me n would not 81
down. considered Il best TO remain
standing, ~ an intimntion that | should
not trouble her with my presence for
long had no time to lose. lest Kate
Daltrey should come In. and II was a
very dIficuit subject to approach
Eve were talking OF you to-day" she
said at length. In . hurried and thick
voice. Aunt Il in great sorrow about
you Il preys upon her day and night
that you win bo dreadfuiiy alone when
she Is gone, and-and- Martin, she wishes
TO know before she dies that the girl In
sark win become your wife"
The words struck like d shot upon my
ear and brain. What! had Julia and my
mother been arranging between them my
happiness and 0llyia's safety that very
afternoon Such generosity was incred-
ible. could not believe had heard
Alright.
"she has seen the girl,v continued
Julia, In the same husky tone, "and she
IL convinced she ls no adventures. Jo-
hanna says the same. They tell me Il Is
unreasonable and selfish In me TO doom
you TO the dreadful loneliness feel. II
Aunt Dobree asked me to pluck out my
right eye Just now, could not refuse.
II Il something like that, but have
| promised 10 do II. l release you from
every promise you ever made to me, Mar
| tIn."
"JulIa" cried, crossing 70 her and
bending over her with more love and
admiration than l had ever felt before;
this Is very noble. very generous"
NO." she said. bursting into tears; II
am neither noble nor generous. do 1t
because cannot help myself, with aunt's
white face looking so imploringly at me.
do not give you up willingly to that girl
In Sark. | hope l shall never see her
or you for many, many years. Aunt says
you will have no chance OF marrying her
till you are settled In a practice some
where; but you are free to ask her to be
your wife. Aunt wants you to have
somebody 10 love you and care for you
after she Is gone. as | should have DONE"
But you are generous to consent to
IT," ! said again,
''No," she answered, wiplng her eyes
and lifting up her head; II thought was
generous; thought ! was a Christian,
but 1t Is not easy to be a Christian when
one is mortified, and humbled, aud
wounded. ! am a great disappointment
to myself; quite as great as you are to
me. l fancied myself very superior to
what ! am. hope you may not be dis
Anpolnted In that girl 10 Sark,n
Her hand was lying on her lap, and |
stopped down and kissed it, seeing on 1t
still the ring | had given her when we
were first engaged. She did not look at
me or bid me goodbye, and | went out
OF the house, my veins tingling with
shame and gladness. met Captain Carey
coming up the street, with a basket OF
6ne grapes in his hand. He appeared
very much amazed.
"Why, Martini he exclaimed, "can
you have been to see Julia?"
YES" | answered.
"ReconciledT he said, arching his eye
brows, which were still dark and bushy,
though his hair was grizzled.
"Not exactly" replied. with a stiff
smile exceedingly difIicult to force; moth
Ing OF the sort indeed. Captain, when
will you take me across to Sark?"
"Come, comet none OF that, Martin"
he said; you're on honor. you know.
You are pledged to poor Julia not to visit
Sark again"
"She has just set me Free" | answered.
and out OF the fullness Of my heart told
him all that had just passed between us
His eyes glistened, though a film came
across them which he had to wipe away
"She is a noble girl" he calculated; "a
fine, generous, noble girl. | really thought
she'd break her heart over you at first.
but she will come round again now. We
will have a run over to Sark tomorrow"
felt myself lifted into third heaven
Of delight all that evening. My mother
and talked of no one but Olivia. The
present rapture so completely eclipsed the
coming sorrow that forgot how soon 1t
would be upon me. remember now that
my mother neither by word nor sign suf
fered me to be reminded of her illness.
She listened to my rhapsodies, smiling
with her divine, pathetic smile. There
is no love, no love at all, like that of a
motherl
Swiftly we ran across the next day,
with a soft wind drifting over the sea
and playing upon our faces, and long
furrow lying in the wake of our boat.
1t was almost low tide when We reached
the island. found Tardifs house com
pletely deserted. The only sign of life
was family of hens clucking about the
| fold.
The door was not fastened, and | en-
| tered, but there was nobody there
| gNN ", y,.sAAln aA kha tffNhnA on1
called, but there was no answer. Olivia's
door was ajar, and | pushed it little
more open. There lay books had lent
her on the table, and her velvet slippers
were on the floor, as If they had only
just been taken off. Very worn and brown
were the little slippers, but they reas-
sured me she had been wearing them a
short time ago.
returned through the fold All the
| place seemed left to itself. Tardif's
sheep were browsing along the cliffs, and
his cows were tethered here and there
At last l caught sight of head rising
from behind crag the rough shock
head of boy, and shouted to him,
making a trumpet with my hands.
''Where is neighbor Tardif?' called,
"Down below there!" he shouted back
again, pointing downwards to the Havre
Gosselin. did not wait for any further
information, but darted off down the long,
steep gulley to the little strand, where
the pebbles were being Tapped lNzily by
the ripple of the lowering tide. Tardif's
boat was within a stones throw, and |
saw Olivia sitting in the stern of 1t. |
shouted again with a yehemence which
made them both start.
tlCH...,.. hall Inn .aif y nrind Nnnd