Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1907-02-20

And all came about as wise old Sir
John Meredith had predicted 1t is not
our business to record what Jocelyn
said. Women-the best of them-have
some things in their hearts which can
only be said once to one person. Men
cannot write them down; pictures can
not print them.
The lame story was told to the end,
and at the end it was accepted When
Sir Johns name was mentioned-when
the interview in the library of the
great London house was briefly
touched upon-Jack saw the flutter of
at no other time. The slate was wiped
clean, and it almost seemed that
.Iocelyn preferred it thus with the
scratches upon it where the writing
had been.
Maurice Gordon did not come back
in an hour. 1t was nearly 10 O'Clock
before they heard his footstep on the
gravel. BY that time Jocelyn had
heard the whole story. She had asked
one or two questions which somehow
cast different light upon the nara
tive, and she had listened to the an
swers with n grave, judicial little
smile-the smile of g judge whose ver-
dict was preordained, whose knowI-
edge had nothing to gain from evi-
dence
Because she loved him she took his
story and twisted it and turned it to
n shape of her own liking. Those
items which he had considered i'm
portant she passed over as trifles; the
trifles she magnified into the corner
stones upon which the edifice was
built. She set the lame story upon
its legs, and it stood upright. She
believed what he had never told, and
much that he related she chose to dis
credit-because she loved him. She
perceived motives where he assured
her there We're none; she recognized
the force of circumstance where he
took the blame to himself-because
, she loved him. She maintained that
the past was good; that he could not
have acted differently; that she would
not have had it Observation-Disclosures she
loved Linn.
And who shall say that she was
wrong?
Jack went out TO meet Maurice Col.
don when they heard his footsteps, and
as they walked back to the house hi
told him. Gordon was quite honest
about it.
Il hoped he said, when ran
against you in the woods that that
was why you had come back. Moth
ing could have given me greater hap
piness. Hang it, | am glad, old chap!
They sat far into the night arrang
ing their lives. Jack was nervously
anxious to get back to England. lie
could not rid his mind of the picture
lie had seen as lie left his fathers
presence to so and take his passage tc
Africa-the picture of an old man sit
ting in stiff backed chair before 6
dying fire. Moreover he was afraid Of
Africa. The ilritability of Africa hat
laid its hand upon him almost as soor
as he had set his foot upon its torrit
strand. He was afraid of the climate
for Joce!yn; he was afraid of it fol
himself. The happiness that comes late
must be firmly held to. Nothing mus
be forgotten to secure 1t or disc it ma!
slip between the fingers ut the las
moment.
Those who have snatched happines.
late in life can tell of thousand de
tails carefully attended to, u whole OK
istence laid out in preparation for ii
of health fostereI, small pleasures re
linquished, days carefully spent.
Jack Meredith was nervously appre
hensive that his happiness might evei
now slip through his fingers. Truly
climatic influence is n strange ant
wonderful thing. 1t WAS Africa tia
had done this, and he was consciou
of it. He remembered Victor Dur
novo's strange outburst on their frs
meeting few miles below Msala OF
the Ogowe river, and the remembrance
Jocelyn and he should turn their back
upon tile accused west coast forever
Before they went to bed that nigh
1t was all arranged. Jack MEREDITH
had carried his point. Maurice an,
Jocelyn We're to sail with him for Eng
lanl by the first boat. Jocelyn and l.
compiled a telegram 10 be sent of fir;
thing by a native boat to ST. Paul &
Loanda. 1t was addressed to Sir Jolil
Meredith, London, and signed "Mere
dith, Loango." The text of it was:
bring Jocelyn home by first boat
4
And the last words. like the first