Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1908-06-11
CHAPTER MI.
Continued.

You may imagine the mental coHdi'
ton of the vicar-a man so many years
past his youth; incredulous to morbid
degree respecting his own powers OF
pleasing, and possessing perfectlv
accurate knowledge as to the very airy
and unsubstantial foundation upon
which his best hopes were, in reality,
based!
81 don't think the flowers are looking
ill. Jane. l think it is yourself that IS
changed. You don't care for your
flowers now as you did year ago.
81 don't care for my flowers" Her
hands ceased from their employment in
an instant. and she turned full around
to the vicar. "Why, Mr.. Follettt,
think they are all l do care for now
What have l left to care for but my
own poor, small, selfish pleasures, and
and"
Was that sudden hesitation propi'
tious? The vicar deludcd himself into
thinking so.
"And what else, Jane? What else do
you care for, except your own poor
small, selfish pleasures?'
"A memory, sir" looking straight
into his eyes. Not much, you will say,
to live upon. but still all | have got
YOU know, all have got
And then she turned away and began
abruptly to walk up and down with
quick, short steps. along the garden
path A habit that had rather grown
upon her since Miss Lynchs death, as
many such mechanical means for the
suppression of thought do grow upon
persons in whose minds ghosts walk at
times. and who live much alone.
Mr.. Fo.lptt watched hor as she took
two or three of these short turns in
silence; then he met her midway in the
path.
"Janc. child, | don't like to see you
walk like that. That walk is the few
erish action of one whose mind is i'll at
case. ! would not have your mind so,
Jane. if could help IT,"
The expression of his face quite melt
ed her. She held out both her hands
to him.
"Oh. sir, how good you are to me-
what should | do without you? When
when some thoughts come to me. you
know, | begin to walk like this. without
thinking what do; but | will try never
to walk again, rs you don't like II. The
tricl; came upon me Il night or two
after auntie died and | can scarcely
help it now. | would not do that or
anything else in the world to give you
a moments pain"
The pressure of her hands was warm:
real honest regard shone from her eyes;
and from one ordinarily so cold any eX
preston of feeling ought to have made
an aspirant lover rapturous. But the
vicar felt chilled as though n harsh
December wind had suddenly swept
unon him. standing there among the
summer roses. 1t is one thing to write
OF the influence of kindly hands and
eyes. and another to feel it. Mr.. Fol-
lett was sensible that no woman ever
caught the hands and looked into the
eyes OF the man she loved as Jane was
doing now. She was grateful. dutiful,
affectionatc to him, as to Il father-no
more.
He hid his embArrA ssmcnt, and disen-
Gagged himself from her cruelty kind
hands by stoopingdown and picking up
one of her gardening gloves. AS he
presented it. he remarked. quite in his
usual collected tOnc-indeed It struck
on James heart he spoke little for
mally-that he always recommended
persons who lived much alone to break
themselves early from all the habits
that loneliness engenders. Tie had bad
great deal of experience himself that
way. and he knew how apt all recluses
were to fall into habits and thoughts
rulike those Of other people, unless
they carly forced themselves to associ-
ate with the world about them.
II feel that. too" said Miss Grand
Il feel that it will not take n great
many more years to make me as eccen.
trio and unlike any one else, as old
Miss Brown. And do you know, Mr..
FolIett. I sometimes wonder II 1t isn't
duty owe to myself to give up this
lonely life and try-a terrible effort 1t
would be-to bring myself to live with
Others"
If ever a man had an opening made
for him, here surely was one. Without
waiting to think. the vicar broke forth
into speech hurried. disconnected
speech very unlike any that Jane had
ever heard from his lips.
"Jane, that is what I have often
wished to say to you. You are too
young to have done with life. 1t Is
monstrous that you should waste your
best years over one lost hope. You do
owe 1t to yourself TO try to be happier
and live in the world, and-and, Jane,
single woman cannot mix in the
world-in marriage you might forget
the past-cnd be happy"
1t was the vaguest declaration of pas
sion probably ever made; but from the
fearful agitation of the Wears heart,
hn, beyond all doubt meant it for one.
For Jane, she simply looked ut him
aghast.
Marriage" she exclaimed-"mar-
riage? Great IIeaven Mr.. Follett,
don't misunderstood me so! meant to
live In family. family containing
other staid persons of my own years,