The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1910-08-09

undDle to sleep that night. HOul after hour he tossed in his bed, and then presently, when the first dawr of morning appeared. he rose anc went to the window.
 How quiet and peaceful everything was. Save the faint twitter of the birds, who had not yet begun thei1 glad thanksgiving chorus, and the gentle ripple of the river, no sound was to be heard. The valley lay ir light, thin haze, the dew hung or millions of blades of grass, the air was sweet with the purity of the morning. It seemed impossible fo1 any one to cherish dreams of ven- geance amidst such a scene, but there was no softening in Ricordo's eyes.
 He dressed quickly and went out The sun had now risen, and all na- ture had burst into new life. Every where the birds poured forth their song of praise, the lambs sported in the meadows, the cattle eagerly ate the dewy grass; everywhere life was joy. He looked across the valley and up on the hillside where Olives home could be seen between the trees. The peacefulness and beauty of the scene seemed to affect him. A look of wonder came into his eyes, and there was an expression on his face difficult to describe. But it quickly passed away.
 "No, mo-" he cried, there is no hope for me. There is nothing worth living for now, save that. Oh, how I hate her.'
 When he came back to breakfast, he was still the same polite but cyn- ical man whom Mrs. Briggs had grown accustomed to.
 Beautiful mornin', sur. 'Tes love- ly 'ere in the summer"
 "But the winter will come, Mrs. Briggs"
 Then let us enjoy the summer while we've a-got ct, sur.''
 You are philosopher, Mrs. Briggs; but each must enjoy in his own way"
 '1ss, tha's true; but I a. often feel as low Vale Linden must be some thin like the Garden of Eden where our first parents lived together"
 "But the serpent came in. Mrs. Briggs"
 "Iss, he did. But you know the promise. The seed of the woman shall bruise the serpent's head And it did, va knaw, it did"
 ''The serpent seems to be pretty much alive," remarked Ricordo.
 Throughout the whole day he tramped the moors. Taking with him a pasty which Mrs. Briggs had baked, he stayed the entire day alone, and did not return until the sun was beginning to set the western hills. At precisely the same time as he had visited Vale Linden Hall the night before, he again approach ed the house. He was on the point of ringing when he saw Olive sitting beneath the broad-spreading branches of a great tree.
 Eagerly he walked toward her.
 ''Signorina,'' he said eagerly, "'I answer depend the issues of my life Am I to be lifted into paradise, or am to be cast away into outer dark ness?"
 Olive was silent for a moment, then she said.
 Before I can answer you, signore, I have confession to make"
 "A confession? he said. "Oh, but I shall be very lenient confessor, if at the end-but you know what I would say. It would weary you to repeat what said last night, neither is there need that I should. Surely you know what is in my heart. Since saw you last night, no sleep has visited me. Half the night tramped the moors, the other half tossed sleeplessly on my bed. How could I sleep when I do not know what my future will be? Never mind the confession, signorina-tell me to be happy"
 'I do not think I can," she re- piled.
 "But you must, you must" he cried imperiously. ''I tell you I will sweep away your objections like the wind sweeps away thistledown. You do not know what your refusal would mean to me-"
 There is something I must tell you,'' she said quietly. Last night you asked me to be your wife; at least let me tell you why-why I do not think I can.''
 A strange smile passed over Rieor- dos face.
 "Yes, tell me- he said quietly.
 "I cannot marry you, because l promised I never would"
 Promised you would never marry me?" he cried. Promised who?"
 She told the story which we al- ready know, little thinking of the eff feet it had upon the nearer. She omitted no detail which had any inn portance in the story. The mans