The Washington times., 1923-01-02

Oh, IL you chose to sweep a cross
Ing I shall be only too happy to
stand beside you rather than be
left aloneT' she sobbed between
tears and laughter. "And after
that don't you dare to tell me
must not come to yOur'
He stood for q moment not an
swerins, his eyes on the barren
field. and the indecisicn in his face
seemed slowly, to change to a
strong determination and resolu-
ton.
Then he turned and took her in
his arms, looking down into her
tear-wet face with something like
alteration in his eyes. I'm not
worth it, 1 ought to be down in
the dust at your feet, but I can't
send you away, my dear, can't!
Wen 80 away together and begin
life again. and you shall never re.
greet it as long as you live" Then
he bent his head and kissed her.
He topk her back presently to
Cherry Lodge. but he would not
60 in with her, and she smiled q
ready assent when he said he
would go down to Long End Cot
tage.
There was no longer q doubt Of
him in her heart; the last cloud
and misunderstanding had been
swept away forever; she knew
that he loved her as she loved
him, and that nothing could sepa-
rate them again.
She went into the house with
such happiness in her eyes that
Mr.. Harding could find no words
with which to greet her when
they met in the hall, but she went
UP to him at once.
Uncle. I'm going to be married.
Soon, think-in day or two
and we're going abroad some.
where"
Glen Harding gave q stifled ex-
clamatio7.
"oh. my dear: I beg Of you-for
your own sale-I want your hap.
piness, heaven knows. more than
anything on earth"
She lifted her face and kissed
him.
"If you do, then you will come
and see me married." she said.
There is only one man in the
world for me. I don't care about
the past, think I'VE forgotten 1t
already, but I know and he
knows, too-that the future is 60
ing to be all right"
Old Fernie was on his hands
and knees trying TO coax a smoky
fire to burn in the kitchen at
Long End Cottage, when the For
tune Hunter lifted the door latch
and walked in.
For a moment his son stood
watching him unheard; then he
went forward and took the bun
die Of chips from the old mans
wrinkled hands.
"I'1l do that" he said; I'm used
to lighting fires" Old Fernie did
not start: he just rose stifny to
his feet and stood watching while
the Fortune Hunter coaxed the
fire into blaze and added some
pieces Of coal. He looked a little
dazed. but after a moment he
drew his armchair up to the fire
and touched the Fortune Hunter
on the shoulder.
sit down and warm yourself"
he said. We've both been I'm
all night. III make some coffee"
He came back presently with
some cups and an earthenware
jug.
80 you're not tired Of Sonner-
ton yet, then?" he asked with a
twinkle in his eye, as he had
asked the Fortune Hunter once
before when they met on the
bridge one morning. The Fortune
Hunter looked up.
mot YETI" he said, and then,
after a moment, he added: "And.
IL / may, Til take hack tba ra-
fusal Of help you made me the
other night"
He rose to his feet. IF you'll
give me a hand, I'll make. good
yet. give you my word of
honor" Then he flushed and
laughed almost apologotically. "I
suppose you think that sounds
queer?" he added.
Fernie held out his hand.
She's going with your" he asked
bluntly.
The Fortune Hunter looked
away from the old mans wrinkled
race to where the sunshine had
chased away the river mists and
the golden autumn tints made a
wonderful background for the
river, and his heart was full of a
great thankfulness and humility
as he answered:
Eyes, thank God!'