The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1906-01-03
CHAPTER Y.
Continued.

SOlllDutt'
"I have told you that l walked in my
garden with 8 feeling almost OF rap
"furous thankfulness Oh the morning OF
.,she child's birth. At pightfafl Of that
DAY I paced along the same path, nnder
the same blossominS trees, with the
despair of death upon my heart Mar
garet was sinking fast. All through
that night I wrestled fercely against
the well-nigh accomplished will Of God;
/ called Him as only those bereft OF
reason call; l sought to turn away the
inevitable by my weak prayers, my
resolutions, my passionate promises Tor
the future; and l prayed in vain, Jane!
Soon after daybreak she died. she
never asked to see the child, nor took
any notice when they tried to. rouse her
by speaking Of it. But 4 little while
before death, I thought l saw more
light gathering in her eyes, and asked
her to speak TO me Once more. ! sup
pose some vague shadow of my mean
ing reached the poor soul, just flutter-
ing out of its pain, for she spoke. Yes,
Jane, yes-she spoke
mot of me-not of my child-not OF
anything belonging to the life in which
I had ever known her. Tho name she
called upon WIS not mine; the place
and time of which she murmured were
q place and time of which / knew moth
inc. Faint whispers Of love, faint part
ing promises-none Of them for ne
were the last sounds I heard from
the lips Of the woman l had made an
idol of
well, I have wished since that my
daughter had lived. The probabilities
are that she would have loved me. She
would at least have been something
for me to have called mine-my very
own-without fear; and sometimes now
I picture myself with 4 bright-halred
little daughter sitting beside my fire in
these gray November nights. But at
the time of my first stunned misery
the loss of that feeble little life could
bring no additional pang. A fortnight
after Margaret's death her. grave was
opened to receive her babe, aud ! stood
beside it, and heard >the service read
again, with<a feeling, almost of relief
that now, indeed, all was over! l had
no more to hope for, no more to fear,
no more to lose-all was over"!
"And the words, Mr.. Follett?" cried
Jane, who had forgotten herself and
her own sufferings more than she had
done for weeks, as she marked the
keen, passionate emotion of the Wears
usually impassive face; 1.-THE last words
you ever heard her speak,?
"Were simply what I have already
said, Jane, words of love and promise
given to another man than me! I ought
to have told you that my engagement
to Margaret was a very short one. 1
met her first at 4 large village festival
in a remote part Of the country, and in
TESS than two months she was my wife.
Her father was the squire of the
parish, 4 man of considerable means,
and from the first it somewhat sur
u. prlsed me that he and his wife should
took so favorably upon my suit, con-
sidering that I had nothing whatever
to recommend me personally, and only
n little village parsonage to offer TO
their daughter. l understood after
ward why they were glad at her ac-
cepting the offer ever CT a poor mans
love. Yes, Jane, I understood it all but
too well at last.
"T "Margaret's mother was in the same
room when her daughter died, and of
course heard the words she uttered as
clearly as 1 did myself. She offered me
no explanation of them, nor did l ask
for any, until after the child was gone;
then, just as she was preparing to
leave my house, l asked her-1 was
quite calm and unmoyed, I recollect-to
tell me. what they meant. -.
ga very few explanations 'sufficed to
show me the extent to- which I had
been deceived. Margaret had engaged
herself. when she was almost a child.
to a man of whom her parents diSap-
proved, but, after vainly trying every
means to shake her in her misplaced
attachment, they at length gave her q
tardy consent to the marriage, part of
the contract being that Margaret
should not marry till she was nine
teen, and that her lover in the mean
time should so to the West Indies, and
set about the improvement of some
property he had Inherited there from
his father.
''~ THE story neither concerns you nor
me. Jane-I need not so into its de-
tails. A few weeks after Margarets
lover left England news came to her
father that the vessel in which he
sailed had foundered.
And Margaret's heart broke" cried
Jane; "she ought not TO have married
you, Mr.. Follett"
Jane, I don't much believe in break
ing hearts. 1t is a fayorite figure Of
: speech, but I don't think we have much
evidence to go upon in the subject.
This 1 think, that if they had let her
take her grief naturally, and from the
hand oe God, she would have got
through as other people get through
such strokes, both to body and mind
as I, in time, got over my loss in her.
But they were afraid, her mother and
father and friends. to tell Der the truth
at first, and in their wisdom they in
vented a falsehood. Her lover, they
told her. was faithless-hal married
another woman even OF his passage
out. and she need never think of him
again