The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1913-04-28
CContinued.)

(Continued.)
 Every day now 1 was expecting 6
 letter from my paper ordering me to
 leave Oglethorpe. Each morning rode to the postoffice as if to meet my
 fate halfway. I was in an agony of
 suspense. l resolved that if my orders
 came before I had reached some un-
 derstanding with Miss Ellen to resign
 my post and remain in the vicinity of
 the Pines until I had either won her
 for my wife or else forced her to de
 clare herself engaged to Squire Haw-
 kins. I never believed that she seri-
 ously considered such a step until she had told me to forget her. Even then
 l would not despair, but I was re- solved that if she thought me poor she should continue to think me such until she had become my affianced bride l fully believed her capable of marrying the squire for the sake of lifting the mortgage and freeing Bud from the hrudgery that was telling on his health and, what was worse, breaking his spirit. For herself she did not think. It was for the others. It had always been for the others. I had reason to think that in the matter of worldly goods I was the equal of the squire. but had told her of this verify be- lieve that it would have initiated against me, for she would not sell her self to the man she loved, while she might sacrifice herself to one whom she regarded almost as an aged rela- tive resolved to stand my ground and fight every inch of 1t with Squire Hawkins, and was equally determin- ed to tell my love at the earliest mo- ment, so that there could be no mis- take as to my intentions.
 The opportunity came sooner than thought, for, the next day being damp and chilly, we remained indoors, Bud alone being forced to face the rain. Mrs. Tufpin had gone into the kitchen to get warm. she said, for the sitting room was damp and bad for rheuma- tism- was only waiting for the colo neI to go for his afternoon nap to speak what was in my mind to Miss Ellen Presently she looked up from a book she was reading and said:
 Father, there was another of those letters copied in the Augusta papers yesterday"
 As heard her words nay heart seem ed to cease pulsation. had never known that they had seen these let ters, for they had not spoken of them before, probably because they did not want me to see them. My face grew scarlet. and I was thankful that the room was gloomy and dark.
 Yes. Ellen,' he said, "-even some of our own people laugh at us when they get rich, SC we can't expect our enc mics to do less Have you got the pa per. my dear2 had to laugh over that last description of what we had come to- It was very. very funny"
 Funny! Oh, father, to thInk that you can see anything funny in such misery as he depicted! The writer does not see with the eyes of a gentle man or else he is blinded by prejudice or prosperity. How I should loathe to be such a man! I did not want you to see this last letter, father, so I burnt the paper. It was too true, too truer'' 1 she cried, and saw her eyes fill with i tears
 She laid her book aside and went to | the window to mend rent in the lace | but l thought more to hide | her feelings from us. "The writer | does not see with the eyes of a gen | -leman." With that one sentence she | had shattered to pieces every argu- | nent had used to myself that day | n the room. She had not made use ,f any choice rhetoric, such as I had l 1sed to describe her, nor did she study | he effect of her phrasfng, but with | me natural sentence, spoken from the | aeart, she seemed to paint me as I | vas or as she would always think of | ne after this. I realized how far my had carried me and how low ny literary instincts, as I had thought | hem then. had sunk me. In the re- ction I saw myself as others would ee me, and in my remorse I believed hat had sacrificed her for some tenn 'oraKY advantage in my profession Ind had fancied that she would un- erstand, forgetting that her scale of onor and truth was as far above mine s heaven is above earth. Tn the si- snce that followed suffered life ime of ordinary Humiliation To be unknown and yet denounced was like 'eing alone with truth My identity hould be hid no longer, and resolved 0 tell her that it was l she. had de As low as l seemed at that moment. I was not so low as to take er hand until I had confessed all. he past month rose before me, and