The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1908-08-07

why I haven't come near you much of
late. You know. and you forgive me,
Jane, will your"
81 forgive? Oh, Mr.. Follett-oh, sir!
can you indeed care anything about me
still?"
'I care for you as l have done fer
the last dozen years. 1 love you so
much that I ask you for the second
time, to be my wife! And now, Jane,
it quicklyw He caught her hand-her
cold. trembling hand-and held it firm
ly, but with never the ghost of pres
sure in his. 81 am strong child. Don't
fear to pain me. I can bear all that
you have got to say"
"I don't think l am worthy Of you,
sir Remember whose daughter I am
remember I am growing old and faded
and worn! Mr.. Follett, you should
look for some one of better birthstone
one fuller of life and freshness than
poor Jane Grand
"I remember whose daughter you are,
Jane;" and so steady was the wears
ing out of the passion of the moment,
but rather delivering an old and we'll
considered opinion. "I remember whose
daughter you are, child. 1 have re-
membered it ever since the time you
were six years old. But I know, too,
that every human beings life dies with
him-your fathers, Jane. or mine!
don't believe in any moral atta1nder
any transmission Of guilt. A mans
honor lies in his own hands; mans
dishonor can rise from his own deeds
alone, not from any heritage that
comes to him from another. For the
rest, know quite well what Jane
Grand is-how worn, how faded, how
old. Does Jane Grand love me?-that
is the only question whose answer II
concerns me to hear"
"She does, sir. She loves you with
her whole heart! She knows now that
she has loved you long"'
Very unlike a heroine chat class OF
human creatures never giving any re-
ply to the most momentous question OF
life except by a monosyllable, too low
for any save the delicate ear Of love
to catch). But poor Jane was not
heroine; only a supremely tender, and,
at length, a supremely happy woman;
and Mr.. Follett seemed so entirely con-
tent, both with the substance and man.
ner Of her reply, that don't think any
outside spectator Of the scene can have
q right to cavil at it.
"And you were not dreaming of Gif'
ford when I came in? And you were
not dreaming of him. or mourning, to
the last. over his approaching mar
rfage? Tell me true, Jane. 1 would
like to hear every syllable of the
truth"
81 was thinking of you, and Of You
alone, Mr.. Follett. I was wondering
how you would take it when you heard
I meant to go away from Chesterford."
"And you will stop in Chesterford
now?"
ST believe so-but I will let Mr.. Mo-
hun have the cottage"
Two hours later, when the vicar was
preparing to leave, she united the black
ribbon from her neck and took from it
her wedding ring.
"I can send it back to him, you know,
Mr.. Follett," she remarked, after going
through all the story Of that ill-omened
gift Of Mohun's. "Some way it seems
to me like remembrance left from my
own youth, not from him, and feel it
would be hard to put it away now. But
1 will do as you WISH" she added
quickly; "and If you will tell me, !
will send it off to Cheltenham by to-
morrow's post"
"Send to Mr.. Mohun's hands the ring
that you have worn and made your
companion for seven years! Nay. Jane.
keep it, and look at it as often as you
will-so long as you wear my ring upon
your hand and my love in your heart!
The past is dead, child. I am not
afraid that NIohun's first gift shall
bring it back too wildly from it
grave again"
This was all the vicar answered.