The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1908-07-31

of the YattOn pew, was, by turns, Won
derine how the deuce he would get
through his first meeting with Jane
and asking himself in what fit of utter
idiocy he had ever been led in to prom
ise marriage to Matty. For the rest
the farmers. as usual, were comfortably
nodding in their places. the elder plow-
men in deep sleep, with their heads
buried over their arms; the younger
ones staring aloft, with the sort of ex-
preston one might imagine in very
stupefied young gorillas, at the knot OF
smartly dressed girls who formed the
village choir in the gallery; the school
children alternating between vertigo
and resonant blows from the prayer
book of the ancient women who nre-
sided over the Chesterford Sunday
school.
All the Chesterford st. Mary's con-
gregation at its ordinary for I leave
unmentioned the few female orthodox
censors, who, of course, found hidden
footprints Of the Beast-Broad Church
in every one Of Mr.. Folletts SEN
tences). all except Jane. She knew the
wears meaning well. She knew every
faintest shade of that gray atmosphere
through which to-day be bid them look
at the picture of life. She knew every
note throughout that minor key in
which he spoke of the insufficiency and
hollowness of human affection and de-
sire. She coul1 inagine-and here,
where tie wears words waxed faint,
her heart carried them out with ex-
ceeding strength-how great shall be
tie rapture of looking on picture no
earthly mists can obscure and listening
to q Voice in whose tones there shall
be no more dissonance throughout all
eternity.
The lingering remembrance Of that
sermon strengthened her wonderfully
throughout the interview which took
place in the course of the afternoon
between Clifford and herself. Miss Fer
gusson had the grace to leave the room
when she heard his ring at the bell,
and so, alone and face to face, the two
old lovers first met under the new as
pect in which from this time hence
forth they would have to regard each
other.
Clifford was excessively agitated,
much more so than Miss Grand, and
for some moments after he took her
outstretched hand in his he was liter
ally, and without affectation, too much
moved to speak.
"I was a brute Janer' he stammered
out at last. 81 lost myself altogether,
and spoke to you like cursed brute, as
[ was, yesterday! Can you ever forgive
me for what have said, or-or forget
it?"
Clifford, felt then as if would like
to die. I felt more cruelty wounded
than 1 ever did before. even in all my
bitter experience. But now-Giford,
not only forgive you from my heart,
but I feel it was we'll that you spoke
to me of my birth as you did. Well,
and, in the end, kindest to me-"
"Kindest to you. Jane!-and as her
hand drew back, and her steady eyes
rested on his, Clifford felt with
spasm of Jealous pain that she had a.
ready ceased to worship him. ''Best
for you that should insult you. after
all cur Ions years of friendship? That
is the cruelest repr3ach that yo1 could
have devised for my punishment.'
But no tone of his could soften Miss
Grand into agitation now. Her heart,
that had been as wax to every unrea-
sonable wish, or word, or look of Gift
ford Mohun's. was shut, close and cold,
against this really natural and neither
ungenerous nor unfeigned remorse OF
Matty Fergusson's lover.
'That blow from you was lard one.
Clifford, but it prepared me. I better
bore what was to come to me after
ward when once felt that you did not
no, that in all your life you had never
really loved mev'
ga harsh judgment. Jane, for few
words of hasty passionv'
But still. harsh or not, the judgment
that will always be mine," and Jane
turned from him almost coldly. "My
eyes are opened at last, and If 1 could
I would not 60 back to my former
blindness, Clifford. You will be happier
far with Matty Ferguson than you
would ever have been with me-"
you speak bitterly, Jane, but you
F., don't mean what you say, no, by -!
| you can't, you don't mean it! If had
married you when I was a lad, as I
| ought to have done, should be diff
| ferent man to what l am now. You
! know that as well as | do: and you
know, too. that l did love you better
than I've ever loved any one else-bet-
| ter than I ever shall love any woman
on earth. If you hadn't been so cold
and sanctified, you would have warmed
to me, and have let me love you again
when I came back here, broken and
miserable. a year ago, and l should
| have you by my side in Yatton now,
| and have something to look forward to.
| by =. and some chance of happiness
| In nv life, instead of being entangled
| cursed fool that l am! into this idiotic
engagement with Matty Ferguson,
| In her.
| Clifford flung himself down sullenly
| in the arm chair beside the fire, and
something very like tears gathered in
| his eyes. Regarded from my own point
| Of view, this was just the one occasion
| in Mr.. Mohun's life when he appeared
! TO the least advantage. His passion
| was that of child allowed to have his
own way. and then enraged because
| his own way has not made him happy.
| Still it was a natural passion-an lm-
| pulse in the direction of good, giving
| token, by it's very weakness, that,
taken early into cunning hands, some
thing quite different to what he now
| was might have been fashioned out of