Year: 1873

Certainly not, John. I am only sorry l
cannot 90 about as usual but if this is all
you wish me to do, I think I can safely prom.
ise it shall be done. But why do you ask me
this?'


He remained silent for moment; then his
pale face flushed with emotion, as he an
swered--


81 thought 1 would like to leave home for a
short time"


"Where are you going?"


81 have not decided yet; in fact, don't
care much where co.


"Does Mary know of your intention?"


As called her name, he rose and said,
hastily


"Don't speak of her to me now, Matte; 1
cannot bear it."


. And then 1 saw through it all. Mary and
himself were not reconciled, as I had hoped,
and he was going to leave home until he could
better command his feelings. knew this was
the last opportunity I should have of speak
ing to him on the subject, and after lifting my
heart in silent prayer that God would bless
my efforts, I said .a


"John, know the cause of all your sorrow.
1t is delicate subject for a sister to mention !;
but I cannot let you be unjust to Mary and
untrue to the nobler instincts of your own ma
ture, without trying to prevent it. You will
believe what tell you, will you not?''


"Of course I will, Matte; but it is not
worth while for US to discuss the subject l
have been deceived, and all have to do now
is to try to bear the terrible life which is be-
fore me"


"But if I can prove thatyou have not been
deceived?"


"That is impossible"


"Listen to what I have to say, at any rate,
John. 1t is the last time shall ever speak
to you on the subject" And then [ told him
everything. I did not try to shield Mary
from blame on the contrary, said she had
done wrong; but added that she acknowledged
it also, and was truly sorry for her fault
He remained silent until had finished, and
then said


"You have not heard all, Matte, or you
would not think as you do. Henrietta
Lewis"


"Hush John. I will not hear one word
about that woman. If you believe her state
ment rather than that of your own true and
loving wife, and your sister, 1 have nothing
more to say. You cannot be more disappoint-
ed in Mary than I am in you"


"Don't get anrgy with me, Matte. have
suffered so much lately, that am scarcely re-
sponsible for ,ohat say or do"


"Then, John, don't leave home You will
never cease to regret it if you do, my darling
brother. Iknow Mary to be all that is pure
and lovely and true don't break our hearts
by your unjust suspicious"


"Iam not unjust, Matte. You know how
much I love Mary but it is because do love
her that I cannot bear to be near her, believ-
ing that she has deceived me-"


"Very we'll, then; 60 if you think proper.
But if I have to choose between Mary and
yourself, I shall stand by her, for kno'o her
to be in the right"


I suppose my positive assertion must have
had some effect, for he said


81 will wait day or two, then," and after
a moment't pause he added, sadly


II thought nothing would ever part US,
Matte, but it seems very easy for you to give
me up"


could only place my hand in his, and
look in his face.


His eyes filled with tears he bent over and
kissed me, and then hurried from the room.


saw nothing of Mary that day; but the
next morning, she came into my room on her
way to breakfast. She had only time to
whisper: ut is all right now, darling" and
then she was gone.


One glance would have convinced me of
the fact, even if she had not spoken. Her
whole face was beaming with happiness, and
could scarcely believe it was the same on
which I had seen


g. The tint of grief


The settled shadow of an inward strife"


John and Mary came. in together to see
me. They both kissed me, and John said,
feelingy-


"How can ever repay you, Matte, for all
your kindness to my little darling?"


81 am fully repaid now, John, by seeing
you both so happy. She is very dear to me,
and she ought to love me very much, for l
never doubted her."


eyes; but then you had heard the denial
from her own lips, before the proof was pro-
duced. However, it is all over now. The
letters have been burnt, and Mary and my
self are going over to pay our bridal visit to
Mrs. Howard this morning. I don't think it
will take her long to see that her efforts to
make us unhappy have proved frutless."


Are you going to say anything to her on
the subject?"


"No, please do not" said Mary; ~ never
wish to hear those. letters mentioned again.
We can forgive her now for all that she has
DONE"


"Do you intend to say, that if we had not
made friends as the children say, you could
not have done so ?" asked John, smiling.


81 intend to say exactly what do say,
that neither Henrietta Howard nor any one
else, can make us doubt each other again"


She looked up in Johns face, as she said
this, and I was not surprised at his kissing the
sweet lips which had just finished speaking.


CHAPTER XIV.


Il uas the first day I had been able to ride