The Morris County chronicle. [volume] (Morristown, N.J.) 1877-1915, 1909-10-19

S4A1ANJ4N1O 4 ~ L}kClyk1 4
then killed himself like 4 coward.
leaving wife and children to face the
world aIone!"
Don't say such things Of my faith
err" entreated Jacqueline. "TIe did
not fling away his fortune--he was
betrayed and robbed. And when he
killed himself his trouble had driven
him mad--as mad as any maniac in
padded cell"
Enough of your father!" answ.
cred Mrs. Bradshaw, sternly, Doris
is weakling, like him, though she
has her mothers face. But you, I
thought, was of different mould. Lis
ten to me, Jacqueline; the woman
at the dinner table spoke truly
Doris is pauper, living on the char
ity of the Wingates. What, then,
has she to share with you? Only
her poverty Does she not tell you
in this letter that she is seeking en-
ployment? Be sensible, child-you
now have nothing in common with
your sister. For five years she has
been separated from you--leave her
still to her good friends. the Win
gates. Doubtless they will continue
to care for her, and she will marry
Mr.. Craven, the clerk, who Is mot
such a simpleton as he looks But
you, Jac--I have another path,
marked out for you Remain with
me and / will make you my sole heir
ess-leave me now, and ] will dis
own you-I will never see you again,
and of my possessions you shall not
receive one penny"
Tears gathered In JacQueline's
eyes-her lips trembled.
For your money I care nothing,
Aunt Bradshaw; but you have been
most kind and generous; and in OPP
posing your wishes and wrecking
your plans for my future, feel like
a thankless beast. But Doris is alone
and unhappy. She is my sister-her
claim is stronger than any other.
cannot help it must go to her,
and at once!"
Something in the white, young
face made Mrs. Bradshaw's heart
sink Her dreams of social triumphs
for her niece--of a brilliant, titled
marriage, toppled like house of
cards. Smarting with disappoint-
ment, she stormed, coaxed and en-
treated-in vain. Jacqueline re-
manned firm. Then Aunt Bradshaw
changed her tactics, and fell back
among her cushions with an air of
exhaustion.
my dear" she said, sadly, ''let
us not talk of this matter any more
to-day-Heaven knows 1t is serious
enough to demand plenty of thought!
Wait until tomorrow before you
make your final decision Now,
Marie shall dress me and you must
order the pony carriage for our
morning ride"
JAG made no demur. Her heart
was heavy. She was quite willing to
postpone the struggle for a few
hours. The two were soon rolling
along the highway in the genial sun
shine, talking of everything but the
subject which filed the thoughts of
each.
Just at the entrance of the market
town a brawling river came tumb1-
ing down from the moors, and on
the stone bridges which spanned it.
JacQueline deserted a male figure in
tweed, leaning against the parapet,
and gazing absentiy into the flood
below. She gave an involuntary
start.
There is the surly Englishman
that met on the top of the hedge"
she said. She had just been relating
the incident to Mrs Bradshaw. The
latter put up her glass.
THAT man is not English" she
answered, with visible annoyance
He is your own countryman, JAG.
Who would have thought to encoun-
ter him here? There are some
things in life that will not stay bur-
led"
'sDo your know him?" asked JAG
Queline.
"Yes-that is-perhaps he will not
see us. Touch the pony with the
whip, my dear"
Jacqueline obeyed; but as she did
so the man on the bridged turned,
and looked straight at the carriage.
Recognition unmistakable appeared
on his face--seeing which Mrs.
Bradshaw assumed her society man
ner, and the fat pony came to
stand
my dear st. George" said Mrs.
Bradshaw. holding out delicately
gloved hand, what delightful sur
prise. / did not know you were in
England"
To be Continued.