Waterbury evening Democrat., 1903-03-30

 health and came down. suggested that we walk out to a secluded little summer house by the river, and Jane was willing. An, my opportunity was here at last.
 Jane's whole attitude toward me was changed, and she seemed to cling to me in a shy, unconscious manner, that was sweet beyond the naming, as the one solace for all her grief.
 After I had answered all her ques- tions and had told her over and over again every detail of Mary's flight and had assured her that the princess was at that hour breasting the waves with Brandon on their highroad to paradise, I thought it time to start myself in the same direction and to say word in my own behalf. So I spoke very freely and told Jane what I felt and what wanted.
 "Oh, Sir Edwin" she responded, ''let us not think of anything but my mistress. Think of the trouble she is in."
 "No, no, Jane. Lady Mary is out of her trouble by now and is as happy as lark, you may be sure. Has she not won everything her heart longed for? Then let us make our own paradise, since we have helped them make theirs. You have it, Jane, just within your lips. Speak the word, and it will change everything, if you love me, and know you do.'
 eL4 mained silent.
 Then I told her of Lady Mary's mes sage and begged, if she would not speak in words what I so longed to hear, she would at least tell it by al- lowing me to deliver only one little thousandth part of the message Mary had sent, but she drew away and said tshe would return to the castle if I continued to behave in that manner. I begged hard and tried to argue the point, but logic seems to lose its force in such a situation, and all said availed nothing. Jane was obdurate and was for going back at once. Her persistence was beginning to look like obstinacy, and I soon grew so angry that asked no permission, but deliv- cred Mary's message, or good part of 1t at least, whether she would or no, and then sat back and asked her what she was going to do about it. Poor little Jane thought she was un- done for life. She sat there half pout- ing, half weeping, and said she could do nothing about it; that she was alone now, and if I, her only friend, would treat her that way she did not know where to look.
 "Where to look ?" demanded. Look here, Jane; here. You might as well understand first as last that will not be trifed with longer, and that intend to continue treating you that way as long as we both live. have deter mined not to permit you to behave as you have for so long, for I know you love me. You have half told me so a dozen times, and even your half words are whole truths. There is not frac- ton of lie in you. Besides, Mary told me that you told her so."
 s'She did not tell you that?' "Yes, upon my knightly honor." Of course there was but one answer to this-tears. then brought the battle ! to close quarters at once, and, with my arm uninterrupted at my lady's waist, asked:
 s.Did you not tell her so? II know you will speak nothing but the truth. Did you not tell herr Answer me-. Jane." The fair head nodded as she whispered between the hands that covered her face: S
 "Yes. T-I-dtid.v and I--well, I de- 1ivered the rest of Mary's message, and that, too, without protest from Jane.
 Truthfulness is pretty good thing, after all.
 So Jane was conquered at last, and I heaved sigh as the battle ended, for 1t had been long, hard struggle. asked Jane when we should be mar ried, but she said she could not think of that now-not until she knew that Mary was safe, but she would promise to be my wife some time. We went back to the castle, and as we parted Jane said timidly: T am glad told you, Edwin. Glad 1t is over"
 She had evidently dreaded it, hut-I was glad too. Very glad. Then went to bed.