Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1908-07-09

tne SarQen, Wnere lie was very Speeuiiy
Joined by Miss Matty herself. Stand
ing on tiptoe at the door of her own
apartment, this young creature had al.
ready guessed at, If she had not &C.
tually overheard the greater part of the
conversation between Jane and Mohun:
and she knew that if YattOn was ever
to be gained by sudden and deter
mined stroke, now was the time. If
Clifford were once allowed to cool, and
to think over James words, who could
say how much of the truth might not
remain even upon his most hopelessly
stupid mind, -.
And Jane? Reader. have you ever
seen a small, unoffending child struck
dumb with passionate pain by Il sudden
Glow from one coarse and brutal arm
that should tave shielded him? To a
chid's agony-so unwilling, so utterly
without hope, so helpless, so mute-1
can only liken James under this blow
that she had newly got at Clifford's
hands. Matty FERGUSON, and her feel
ings toward her, and her disappoint-
ment--her jealousy, If you will-were
forgotten. She remembered nothing;
she felt that she could never again re-
member aught but this-GiffOrd's hand
had struck her; Gifford's hand had
wantonly smitten the poor quivering
wound. so barely healed over at any
time-the dishOnor of her birth!
She could not have spoken-to have
saved her soul, she couldn't have shed
a tear; but she walked to the glass and
looked at herself, and saw that her
mouth was white and set as 1t had
been that first night on her return from
Mr.. Clithero; and then, standing there
and looking on her own face-a ghastly
companionship!-she began slowly to
think. to think as free human soul,
Just set loose by single blow from its
long slavery; and as the mists cleared
from her she knew (but with intenscst
agony that she had wasted her life on
a mistaken idolatory; and that Mohun
was. and had been from the first, un-
worthy of her; and that it was better
to be that mans daughter whose she
was. than his wife whose coward hand
now so cruelty smote her!
Jane Grand saw and felt all this in
about the space of five minutes-for the
great crisis, the death agonies of cur
lives, take place mercfully qulck-thcn
she walked calmly upstairs from the
window of her room she could see Gift
N{o%t ;nc
upon the lawn-Gifford evidently con-
strained and Matty's face. bright as
sunbeam, tenderly upturned to his).
put on her plain village bonnet and
shawl, and started alone for her usual
Saturday walk to visit those outlying
parishioners of Chesterford who lived
far away beyond Yatton woods upon
the moor. 1t was delicious spring
day. The birds We're exultine in low
strains over the few crossed twigs and
straws upon which they We're laying
the foundatiO of their future domestic
bliss in the still leafless hedges. The
smell from the new-plowed fields was
fresh upon the sharp air Every pool
of water along the lanes gave back the
reflection of blue bright as ever shone
on an Italian sky.
ooh. God, Thy word is good!' cried
poor James stricken heart, ''Thy word
is good! Thy creatures rise up and
thank Thee after the chill of their win
ter is gone, but mourn forever! 1t
shall be so 10 more. This day | cast
out earthly love from my heart, and
give myself wholly to Thee! Disap-
pointment and cruelty shall l never
meet with from Thy hands,
And then, walking along, she wept;
scalding, but still very wholesome.
healing tears, different tears to any
that she had ever yet shed in the Mo.
hun cause.
She paid her visits on the moor, en-
tering with more warmth than she had
felt for years into the poor, common
troubles of those hard, uncared for
lives; then, swayed by know not what
feeling. she returned home, not, as was
her custom, through Yatton, but by the
high street of the village, and past the
vicarage gates. The windows of the
little study stood open to the bright
March sunset: and in his accustomed
place beside the hearth was the vicar,
his head bowed upon his book, and a.
look of untroubled, quiet interest upon
his face. James steps Jagged, and in
voluntarily she sighed at this glimpse
Of life that she felt to be so far bet
tes and happier than hers.
IF he only knew my sorrow he would
come to me-" was her thought as she
wistfully fingered by the garden gate.
''If he knew what l had suffered this
day, he would come and speak to me,
as he did in my first troubles, as he
used to speak to me when / was little
childw
But the vicar read on, and the sun
set faded from the study window; and
as some feeling distantly akin to shame
kept Jane from boldly ringing at the
vicarage bell as she would once have
done, nothing remained for her but to
go home-home, bearing her own bur
den of unaided care, and to learn what
ever news Miss Matty Ferguson might
have to give to her.
When she reached the cottnge 1t
struck her as in some way looking diff,
ferent to what it had ever done before,
1t lay cold and shadowed over by the
neighborng Xatton trees (also 1t held
Matty Fergusson), and the little vicar