Year: 1875

from her glances to speak to her. He
| offered her his heart and hand and
she whom a glance or a word once
| thrilled so accepted them as she might
a boquet of flowers.


It troubled him a little that the
bushes and sweetness of the old time
did not return but perhaps the society
manner he admired so much forbade
that. At last she was his; and when
she was his wife she would no longer
refuse those which he found 1t so diff
cult to beg from her now.


The man who SO coOlly sat aside the
tenderness of that fresh young heart
| that loved him SO pined for it now as a
weary traveller pines for the cool spring
and sbadowed resting place. Yet had
she not given linn that eyes" that meant
she loved him2


| He put by his doubts and looked for
ward, lOngingIy, for the wedding day.
! And Maud, what was in her heart?
| Why did she laugh to herself as she sat
! alone? Why did she recall over and
over again the cruel parting at the cot
| tage door ? Remembering that then she
was poor, and that now she was so rich
! Were these memories to carry to the
altar?


The day was set. Every one knew it.
Maud her7ef told fifty confidential
| friends. Reporters would have an ac-
count of it for their papers. It was not
| like Maud to desire such publicity. but
| she had made sure of this for some
private reason, and the happy Eair were
to meet at the church. It was
church. which at an early hour of the
appointed day was crammed from one
end to the other with people in full
| dress. It took two clergymen to man
| age so fine an affair. They were there.
What hustle, what a crash AndnOw
they are coming No; only the brids-
groom and his party-nOt the bride
yet. She must be here in a few
moments. The ladies grow more rest
less. Ten minutes passed twenty
thirty.


8" The hairdresser, 4" said one. ''That's
the delay"


"No, the gloves. They are always
tight, whispered another.


Al hour. There must have been an
accident. She must be dead, or at
least dying, otherwise she would come.


People are on their feet now. They
look at the door. Some one is coming.
It is only a footman, but he wears Miss
Herman's livery.


He advances to the bridegroom and
hands him little note. He tears it
open. This is what he reads, as the
eyes of the great throng turn upon
him


"Poor fool do you forget that there
is no demon like a woman sc0rned ?
When you Tilted me long ago you turned
my love to hate. When you cOUrted
me again because I was an heires5 you
made me burn for revenge. I know
you love me now, snd 1 know you are
proud man. [ am sure you Will suf-
fer very much, for 1 shall not meet you
at the church, or ever again, l hope. !
leave to-day for the continent"


Maud mad written this sitting in her
room, in the brides dress she had al
lowed her maid to dress her IL that
there might be no suspicion of her plot,
and she had called her fOOtman and
sent him to the church with this note
in its white envelope. And now revenge
was satisfied; she had punished him
she was triumphant; she had avenged
the wrong done to the other self who
loved him so.


They stood at the window looking
down the street, watching the groom as
he hurries away, when suddenly dusty
tramp with a kerchief over her head,
stepped out into the middle of the
street, and began to sing an O. d tune
Maud knew well, an old love song that
she had never heard before:


sfrove to tear thee from my heart,


The effort was in vain;


The spell was ever on my life,


And l am here again


Oh! I have ranged in countries strange,


And vowed no more to meet


But power was IN thy parting glance


To bring me to thy feet.


We cannot 90 against loves viii


When he has bound US fast;


Forgive the thought that did thee wrong, /


And be mine own at last.


Maud listened the tears stood in her |
ewes. Suddenly her heart softened. |
What years had not done this song had |
ACCOMPLISHED in a few moments. She |
was a girl again. She loved Paul Red |
law once more. All this fendish long |
ing for revenge was gone. Yes, she |
love 4 him, she would be his wife. She |
could ovartake the messenger yet. Her |
carriage stood at the door. She rushed |
down the stairs and hurried into it.


''Drive for your life" she whispered |
to the coachman. g Overtake Thomas; |
he has q note that 1 must have back"


The cOachman obeEet. He drove her
as bride was never driven yet. But the
footman's feet had crossed the thresh-
Ola OF bl6 CHURCH ere JLlcS u4O uCdACu
it.


She stepped from the carriage as
bride has seldom stepped, unattended
She had forgotten those who were to be
with her; she thought only of him-of
her lover. The crowd did not turn at
her entrance. It had massed itself IN
the aisles and stood on the pew cUsh-
ions.


"Let me pass, let me pass" she
pleaded. What is it-What has hap
pened?'


Then some one said, Toe bride, "
and they all looked that way; but in
stead of making room they tried to bar
her advance, and then somehow the
clergyman had made his way to her and
took her by the arm; and the voice of
an hysterical woman rent the air


"The doctor says he is dead"


Maud knew no more.


There is an odd, half crazei woman
wandering from place to place with a
maid aud courier. They call her old
Miss Herman, and tell how the bride
groom died in church on his wedding
morning, but they do not knOg all. No
one ever guessed the contents of the
little note tina was swept away next day
when the church was swept, or guessed
why Paul Redlaw died.