The Washington times., 1903-08-02
d THE STORY OF MISS MARY: A COMPLETE NOVEL D.

A T the mouth of the bay there was
~ a treacherous reef upon which
many a fine vessel had gone 70
pieces. The sands had encroached on tn
shore, were still encroaching; only al
low tide the hull Of long wrecked yes
sci showed through them. At night, ac-
cording to the country people, the
drowned sailors came back and sat there,
a still row in the moonlight.
Beyond the sand were the salt marshes,
beyond the salt marshes a few unpro-
Guctive fields, where the sea pink and
the sea poppy grew among the sparse,
dry grasses that would hardly pasture a
goat. Beyond the fields was a belt Of
Woodland, holding the bay within its
curves. Beyond the woods was the Cas-
tie of Waring.
The Warnings of Waring were now rep
resented by Miss Mary, and were likely
to die out soon enough, since
when people spoke of Miss Mary they
tapped their foreheads with a smile or
a sigh. according to their natures
There had been a male heir to the
name within the memory of people still
in the prime of life. A bad egg, SAID
the people, shaking their heads owes
MIR. Algernon waring; and it was rlo
wonder the squire had driven him from
his house and shut the door against him
forever.
II was about that time the trouble
With Miss Mary began. Up to the time
when Squire Waring had hidden Mr. Al
gernon begone and no longer sully the
air OF the house in which his girl breath
ed her innocent breath, Miss Mary had
seemed pretty much like other people
little more dreamy and delicate than
most: but dreams and delicacy are not
uncommon with girls. and the squire had
been used from his one chiIds babyhood
to listen greedily to tales of how the
delicate children made the strong men
and women, and so on. until the tale
was of the blooming matrons with chill
dren about their knees who had de-
veloped from girls like his own, white as
thistledown. unsubstantial as moonlight.
There had been no very good blood be-
tween him and Mr.. Algernon at any
time Indeed. Miss Mary had not known
her cousin except for few weeks before
the scene in which the squire drove him
from the house. foolish thing, said
the wiseacres at the time. for him ever
TO have admitted Mr.. Algernon, with the
character he bore: and more than one
humble household had cause, beyond any
the squire had. 10 curse the hour of his
coming 20 Waring.
These things we're kept from Miss
Mary's ears No knowledge of evil sui
lied the mild brown of her eyes with rhe
great irises like the eyes of a child.
She had the figure OF sylph or fawn,
and a gliding footstep which made her
shadowy IN her white gown as she
walked in the woods at evening. She
was always fond Of solitude and twilight.
For a little while during that visit OF
Mr. Algernon she was no more solitary
After he had gone she went back TO her
old, quiet ways, Ionelier than ever
The squire was not one TO notice. He
sat porting over his books day after
day. aud knew as little of the woods AMI
the sea as he did OF the world. He saw
no change in his girl: she had always
been quiet.
The first to notice was Mrs. Susan,
Miss Mary's maid. who had been her de-
voted nurse After a time she brought
the story TO Mrs. Maythorne, the house
keeper. Mrs. Maythorne watched her
young mistress nervously for a little
while. Yes, there was no doubt OF IL;
it was as that kind. fond fool of Susan
woman had said. There was something
strange about Miss Mary. Perhaps she
was so near the borders of twilight
world that il took but a little shock to
push her over altogether. The change
was so gradual. so all but imperceptible,
that the squire lived anu ulSu "lIHoul
taking any notice of It. He was found
dead, with his cold face on an open book,
about O'Clock of a summer morning,
some four years after Algernon Waring
had been driven from the house. He
died still hoping that his Mary would
marry. and grow buxom in time, and
give him grandchildren, so that the place
should never come to Algernon.
The two faithful women kept the Sc
cret till 1t could be no longer kept. Those
things happened a quarter of centur!
ago, and. to look at Miss Mary in a bad
light. you would think not half dozen
years had gone over her head. In a
good light. you saw, indeed, the little
network of fine lines about the eyes, SO
incongruous with the great irises. In q
good light, you saw that the eyes were
wool gathering. Perhaps you noticed
that the fingers moved aimlessly and
were never still. Time seemed to have
forgotten her else. She mad the sylph-
like figure, the gliding footstep, still.
Her soft pale-brown hair had hardly a
silver line. At a little distance and in a
dim light she was the girl OF twenty five