The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1908-06-05
CHAPTER Y.
Continued.

Continued.
81 have told you that | walked in my
garden with feeling almost of rap
turous thankfulness on the morning of
the child's birth. At nightfall of that
day paced along the same path, under
the same blossoming trees, with the
despair of death upon my heart. Mar
garet was sinking fast. All through
that night l wrestled fercely against
the well-nigh accomplished will of God;
1 called Him as only those bereft Of
reason call; sought to turn away the
inevitable by my weak prayers, my
resolutions, my passionate promises for
the future: and 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 little while
before death, l thought l saw more
light gathering in her eyes, and l asked
her to speak to me once more. l sup
pose some vague shadow of my mean-
ing reached the poor soul, just fiutter-
ing out of its pain, for she spoke. Yes,
Jane, yes-she spoke
''Not of me-not of my child-not of
anything belonging to the life in which
1 had ever known her. The name she
called upon was not mine; the place
and time of which she murmured were
a place and time of which knew moth
ing. Faint whispers of love. faint part
ing promises-none of them for me
were the last sounds I heard from
the lips of the woman 1 had made an
idol of!
"WelI. 1 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
l picture myself with q bright-haired
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, and | stood
beside it, and heard the service read
again, with a feeling almost of relief
. mat uON iuuSSu dli w ue o'CI Lttei
10 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
Won ever heard her Speak?'
''Wefe simply what Shave already
said, Jane, words of love and promise
given to another man than me! l ought
to have told you that my engagement
to Margaret was Il very short one.
met her first at large village festival
in a remote part of the country, and in
less than two months she was my wife.
Her father was the squire of the
parish, a man of considerable means.
and from the first it somewhat sur
prised me that he and his wife should
look so favorably upon my suit, con
sidering that 1 had nothing whatever
to recommend me personally, and only
q little village parsonage to offer tc
their daughter. 1 understood after
ward why they were glad at her ac'
cepting the offer even OF a poor mans
love. Yes, Jane, l understood it all but
too we'll at last.
"Margaret'S mother was in the same
room when her daughter died, and of
course heard the words she uttered as
clearly as did myself. She offered me
no explanation of them. nor did | ask
for any. until after the child was gone;
then, just as she was preparing to
leave my house, 1 asked her-I was
quite calm and unmoved, recollect-to
tell me what they meant.
"A very few explanations sufficed to
show me the extent to which | had
been deceived. Margaret had engaged
herself, when she was almost Il child,
to man of whom her parents disap-
proved, but, after vdinly trying every
means to shake her i'll her misplaced
attachment. they at length gave her Il
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 60 to the West Indies. AMI
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 go into its dc
tails. A few weeks after Margaret's
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. / don't much believe in break
ing hearts. 1t is a favorite figure of
speech. but l don't think we have much
evidence TO go upon in the subject
This | think that if they had let EoT
take her grief naturally, and from the
hand o God, she would have got
through as other people get through
such strokes, both to body and mind
rs /. in time, got over my loss in her.
But they were afraid, her mother and
father and friends. to tell her the truth
at first, and i'll their wisdom they in
vented a falsehood. Her lover. they
told her. was faithless-had married
,another woman even OH his passage
out. and she need never think of him
again.
She took down his picture from the
wall, and all the presents he had
given her, and his letters, and burnt
them. one by one; and when she had
done she laughed, and told them never
10 mention his name before her from
that hour; and she went about the
Il
excited. and insisted she would go, TO
show people she WIS not brOken-heart-
ed to Il public ball that was TO be held
next night at the nearest county town.