The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1902-08-24

BESIDES why should not the body have
been washed into the sea? Maybe at low
water some day the corpse would be discov
cred, but for the present the mystery must
remain unsolved.
Hodsbourne was not a little scandalized
when Janet Hurst refused to put on mourn
ing. but she did not want supporters who
declared that she was right In the first
place, said they, her husband had treated
her badly, and in the second, he had not
left her a penny piece Molly and Giles
Hoskins, the herdsman, told how they had
been called into the room by the master to
witness his signature and they wrote their
names in proper form on the document
The will by which the whole of the prop
erty was left 10 the farmers sister was
perfectly valid, and the odd thing was that
it was made the night before Hurst set
out on his Inflated journey. That he must
have had some presentiment of his ap-
preaching end was the solemn belief of the
village
Three weeks went over; again Stephen
Musgrave and Janet Hurst were walking
in the meadow sloping to the river. They
had been talking in low, earnest tones,
BEST let bygones be bygones," said she
at last, slowly. and with an evident effort.
i've had enough of married life
Eyes, with a man you hated. 1 know
all about it, Janet. You married Hurst to
spite me. but now my turns come. Haven't
1 waited patiently? If 1 haven't kept the
oath you made me take the night we met
in Hodsbourne woods, it was because no
mortal man could. Have l forgotten your
confession?'
Janet's face paled little, look half of
fright, half of shame, came into her eyes
Her confession! Well, not so much con-
fession as an admission, extorted from her
by Stephen one evening when they met by
accident-an accident, at least, on Janet's
part-in Hodsbourne Woods.
1t was that fatal day when her husband
struck her. All her being was in revolt; her
thoughts rushed back to Stephen Musgrave,
and when Stephen met her he spoke not in
the old vainglorious spirit, but sympathiz-
ingly, respectfully, almost humbly. He, too.
like herself had changed, and the changed
softness of his voice, the unwonted tender
ness in his eyes broke down her self-con-
troll, and she sobbed out the truth in his
arms. She felt he was more generous than
she had a right to expect, and this in
creased her penitence. She owned she loved
him when she married George Hurst; that
she loved him still
Then a flood of shame and remorse swept
over her. she made him swear he would
never seek TO see her again, and he reluct-
antIy consented, but failed to keep his
promise.
After his reminder of her confession,
Stephen pursued his advantage. She could
not. he urged. deny that she loved him
She was now free. what was there to pre-
vent their marriage?
"I-I-don't know. Oh, Steve" she burst
out, swear TO me that"
She stopped, she pressed her hand to her
bosom, thrill-nay, a shudder-seemed to
go over her. and the hand Stephen was
clasping became as cold as ice.
81 am fool" she exclaimed, with half
hysterical laugh.
The man heard her silently, his head bent
low down, his grasp over her cold fingers
gradually tightening. Suddenly she with
drew her hand, and, finging her arms
around his neck. pressed her lips to his as
though to make amends for some unjust
thought concerning him.
Stephen suggested being married in Lon
don, and he FASTENED to town, made all ar
rangements, took apartments for Janet and
her mother to whom she had returned on
the contents of her husbands viii being
known and came back to Hodsbourne. For
Janet's sake. he urged the utmost secrecy.
The villagers might make an unpleasant
Il cha int HaI
to marry again, especially as there was no
absolute evidence Farmer Hurst was dead;
and so Stephen never went near Mrs. Lang
don's house, but met Janet at the old spot
by the river.
The meeting this cold, dreary wet May
afternoon so unlike the May of the poets,
was to be their last in Hodsbourne. 1t was
settled that Janet and her mother should
leave by an early train the following morn
ing, and Stephen was to precede them that
night
Stephen Murgrave was, he said, establish
ing a business in London, and he never
wanted to see Hodsbourne again. Janet was
equally anxious to leave the place where
she had passed her miserable married life.
They wandered on, Stephen talking con-
the future and Janet listening in silence.
Neither of them noticed how far they had
gone 1t was only by Janet shivering vio-
lently that Stephen awakened to the fact
that they were two miles from Hodsbourne,
and that the drizzle had become abso-
lutte downpour
''You will catch your death of cold. What
shall we do?" he cried anxiously.
What he could do was obvious. His own
house which he had let to Ralph Herne was
but a hundred yards away-why not take
shelter there? But this did not seem to oc-
cur TO him, and when Janet suggested it
he made an objection on the score that the
place was not fit for her to enter, the
Hernes were such a dirty people. But she
persisted, and at last he consented, though
with evident reluctance.
DesoIate enough Musgrave's house looked
in its misty shroud The garden was
choked with rank vegetation, the leaves
of the previous autumn had not been
cleared away, the paths were run over
with weeds. A close, unwholesome, damp
smell seemed to pour from the interior
when the door was opened by Mrs. Herne,
a dark-browed woman of diminutive stat
ure, who started with surprise, almost
with alarm, as it seemed, when she recog-
nized her visitors.
Stephen babe the woman light a fire in
the best room and make some tea, and
without a word OF welcome to Janet, which
haaV ov,1xv for &c