The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1911-01-30


 all the cold, starry light of the sky when lying awake at nights. There was no ease, no relief from his tor turing thoughts. No murderer in the condemned cell could suffer greater agony than he did. His true nature was uppermost. He was only the disaster from which his whole being weakly sharnk.
 His plans were ready: he had left nothing to chance, nothing unoa1cu- lated. And at Shndown he left his l camp and set out across the veldt. He had made certain that he would find Mary alone.
 Since the burning of the farm Bl- wood had built temporary home for Mary. It was plain, even humble in comparison with the past grandeur of the other. The whole place was characteristic of the country. merely consisting of a cluster of six large. circular Kaffir huts of adobe and thatch, the latter projecting in wide eyes. which formed deep, natural stoep surrounding each building. These were linked together by cover ed wattle passages, and the whole was contained within high kraal wall of the most approved native con 1 struction
 Simple though it was, Mary found it home such as the other had nov | 1 CT been. It takes more than mere furnishings to make home. Mind and heart must be tuned in perfect sympathy with it. with those who share its shelter, to give the title any meaning And som mething of this must have come to tho young wife. Her life had suddenly become tinted with the rosy light of content and hope. The old unrest and dfscontene. even the grey monotony, seemed to have passed. giving place to a feel ing of pleasure in her surroundings which suggested something more than mere content. The guiding hand of l Tanta had been at work in the home; the wise councils of Emily verricker were always in the girls ears; but 1t was not these things that had wrought the change in her. It was from the girl herself that inspiration sprang.
 | She loved the home from the first. And Emily. watching the way in which her protegee threw herself in- to the ordering of 1t, nodded her head in approval.
 "It's coming all right" she assur- ed herself in the privacy of her kitchen. And she was thinking of the younger wonan's motives rather than of the work she was actually engaged upon.
 1 And she was right. Mary was hap py. She still lived her life apart from her husband. This could not well have been otherwise. But she loved him now as she had never con ceived 1t possible for her to love him, and her whole heart and mind was set on winning back that love which had once been hers.
 It was the dawning of new life for her. and it's morning light was ripening to the radiance of perfect day It only required the sunlight oe l her husbands love to flash out through the veil of morning clouds to | perfect the prospect. Would those 1 clouds melt? Was there a sun some | questions she asked herself. This was the one bitterness that often made her best efforts seem utterly futile to her.
 she longed to. She must wait. She must watch. No opportunity should be lost Or neglected. She was happy because she loved him; but her very l love had become as a two-edged sword. It often hurt her, wounding her and setting her heart bleeding. She had only too much reason for believing that she mad killed the mans love: but now that she under stood her own feelings she would not | accept the belief. She hugged her hope to herself, and it brought her comfort
 Ferman was no longer the auto maton that was only a part of Mary's | life in that he was there to provide l it's necessities. He had become 8 living interest to her; his quiet, un- demonstrative personality had sud denly become a delight. He was so strong. so great in his quiet, simple power. Where these things had only been a source of annoyance to her be- fore, now she saw in them the lofti- ness of the master mind-a mind which dominated every one with whom he came into contact; and she revelled in the thought that she too must yield to it's sway. And this man was her husband. His love had once been hers, and she wanted 1t again. | CTo Be Continued) l AS the noonstone is supposed to | bring good luck to it's wearers a | dainty bit of bitouterie with this sen.