The Montgomery advertiser., 1907-10-16

II thought 'ee had more grit. rwArHt thus spoi<s when your mother died my dear old comrade of twenty year'n more. Iris the Lords will that those we love shall leave us." He spoke harnhiy, though his heart ached for his dauEhter's misery. His shrewd mind already guessed that there was something more in the girls heart than sorrow for the loss of her child. But he forsbore to aggrsvate her grief with any attempt to learn the cause of it.
 l -'Tis the Lords will, Laurie" he repeated more gently, and these words represented all the philosophy of his simple life.
 she did not answer him, but seat ing herself in chair. she gazed round the room, as though trying to Ind something which might diverts her thoughts from her present sorrow. Her. father watched her anxiousiy. Tt all looks the same" she said. af- ter long pause "Tell me all about yourself, father. did not come here | to make you miserable. came to receive your forsiveness."
 You've had that . long time, child" the old man answered, though don't deny as 1t were hard at frst and mortal lonely"
 T know. know" she cried. T am ash amed of myself. But he would not let me write. old Sir Robert" She | paused. She had no wish to utter the | lie in 90 many words. and her father would understand.
 "Ay. he were proud man." sam vane said grimly. "But tell me, Lau- rie--"
 There is nothing to tell" she in- terrupted quickly. T want to hear all about yourself"
 | TT A-1A A. ~l fa xlak thard-lived life during the past two years. It was dull, monotonous and unrelieved by any event of import ance. The death of favorite horse, the failure of potato crop, the in- competency Of the women who had succeeded Laura in the dairy work, these were the tragedies of the story. But Laura did not smile as she list- ened to them. She knew the great tragedy of his life had been real enough. and. though he did not speak I'of 1t. she could see the marks of it on his face. And the thought of 1t was yet another burden that she had to bear. vet another cause of self-re- proach, yet another instance of the cruelty of fate.
 When he had finished his dull little 1 narrative. tffsy were both silent. Then Laura rose to her feet. and. crossing over to his chair, placed her arms round his neck. and kissed him.
 Dear old father" she said tenderiy. "you seem to be the only sure and constant thing in the world. Every from under one's feet but in spite of all my, sins your love remains-oniy your love remains"
 'Tush. tush. child!" he replied. You've q great and good life before you. You'll have the power of doin' good to . lot of folk as needs it. And you've your husband. and I know well he loves you Men in his position don't marry farmers' daughters unless they love them. God has given you good husband lass. and, if lie has thought it to take the little one from 'ee--well, that is for the best: sure sartin that is for the best. You must think of your husband. lass. You need each other now. There was power of sorrow in that hard face of his. Your place is by his side"
 My place ts by his side" she re- peated mechanically. like parrot try ing to learn some set form of words. The old man rose to his feet and looked hard in her face.
 "Is he not good to 'ee lass?" he asked.
 "E1e Is very good"
 l. "And he loves Zee too; know it."
 "Yes, father. he loves me-" 1 And it is te him you'll go ana fnd comfort. lass?"
 She was silent and turned away. her Ihead.
 Don't you love him. lsssf" he asked | sadly.
 She was still silent.
 Don't you love him as you've sworn 1 to love and honor and obeyr''
 We were married in a registry of. fce," replied Laura coidly; T did not swear to love him."
 Then you've sold yourself to him for his money, his broad lands, his narne --and your heart-oh, Laurie. may the Lord have pity on youl'
 He has punished me-" she replied in a dull voice.
 Sam vane placed his hands on her shoulders and looked gravely into her white face.
 "Go home. lass." he said sternly. sand God forgive you. Go to your husband and give him the love he needs. Now IS the time, Laurie--in the hour of sorrow, when the heart is sore and tender. Go to him, lass. He will vel. come you. I've seen it in his face. You should be all in all to each other at s time like this." | I will go." she said wearily. Good bye, father. dear"
 Good bye, child" he said gently.
 and remember 'tis all the Lords wiII'n
 He Kissed her tenderly, and saw her into the carriage which was waiting ~t the door. And quarter of an hour