Year: 1875

no means ordinary ones in this case,
however, and Mr.. Brecse ought to
have known it, although, as l said
before, there was no way in which he
possibly could have found out the
facts that made the ground he was
treading on unsafe. He felt as if he
had been struck in the face, therefore,
when her black eyes flashed again
as she said:


"What have we to be thankful for,
either to Providence or to you Yam
KEGS, that we should join you IN
keeping your Puritan feast? We have
been reduced to beggary, and your
Thanksgiving Day is the one ap-
pointed for the sale of Middleton
Hall by the Sheriff."


Mr.. Breesc was quiet, almost
plegmatic person, in whose character
patience was the most strongly mark
ed feature. He was man, however,
and logical, wherefore he fell into the
error OF supposing that to win pardon
for his slip it was onl Y necessary to
plead the ignorance which had caus-
ed it.


81 really beg your pardon, Ruth,"
he began. "If l had known a word
about this, T."


"But you ought to have known it,"
she exclaimed, and 1t was at this
point that she stamped her foot.


GLOW could II" he pleaded.


"Don't let US QUARREL" replied the
young gentlewoman, "and that we
may not, we had better say good
bye"


"But, my dear Miss Middleton"


"There, it's of no use to argue the
point. My mind is quite made up
We ought to have known from the
first that We should never get on to-
gether. We shall never be able to
agree, and it is better that all should
end now between u.s.


And with that the young woman
swept past him and into the house.


Fred Breese was resolute fellow,
and before he had fairly quilted the
place he had determined his course
for the future. Hiring horse at a
stable in the vii age, he rode away
toward the railway, and was heard of
no more in the neighborhood.


"Ruth is right he wrote to his
sister next night. "My cold gray
eyed nature would never fully COM
prehend her black-eyed one, and it is
better that we should part now; but
it is sore sorrow, and if l had no
great purpose in life, l fear it would
work me i'll. As it is, shall be too
busy and too much absorbed in my
one life's work to grieve overmuch." :"
II.


Miss Middleton saw that she must
bestir herself to keep the wolf from
the door. In sending away her lover
she had sent away her mothers only
boarder, and it became her to do
something by way of compensation.
But what could she do? She might
teach, perhaps, If there were any pu-
pills to be had able to pay for their
tuition; but there were none, and the
young woman determined, as all fair
Is educated young women do in such
cases, to write for the magazines
Nothing is so easy as to write, and
Miss Middleton found the labor of
production so very light that, by the
most moderate calculation she could
make, she thought, herself certain to
earn more money every month than
she dared mention even to her
mother.


She hoped that the publishers
would pay only in checks, lest the
abundance of money in the house
should tempt burglars. She wrote
her manuscri pit upon beautiful paper
Covering both sides, of course, with
delicately sharpened pens, and tied it
together at the top with the .jauntiest
blue ribbon imaginable. Then she
sent 1t to an editor, who, after keep
ing it fortnight, returned it with
very polite letter indeed, explaining
the crowded state of his columns, and
suggesting the probability that some
other editor, less absolutely over
whelmed with manuscript than he,
would eagerly accept it.


The next editor was a trit1e less
elaborate in his epistolary style, but
polite and encouraging, nevertheless.
The next returned the manuscript
with a printed circular, very neat
and extremely rich in courteous gen
eralitles, but rather less pleasant to
receive than written reply to her
pretty note would have been. Final
ly 1t came back without any note at
all, and so soiled by much handling
that she threw it into the fire, in dis
gust with it and with herself. The
editors had not been unkind, howev
er. Had they not let her down gen
tly and quietly? She had written
dramatically and with profusion
Of pretty phrases; but she had moth
ing that she real ly wanted to say to the
public, and nothing that the public
wanted to hear, and it is the business
of editors to stand tor the public in
this matter of periodical literature.
Miss Middleton was a sensible wo-
man and she saw all tins. She knew
when she threw that manuscript into
the fire that it vas worthless, and
that writing was not her proper bust
ness in the world; but she was dis
couraged and fairly frightened as
well. The family income had ceased
when Mr.. Breese went away, and the
family purse was well-nlgh empty
Miss Middleton sat by the fire until
it died out, thinking, thinking, think
ing, but all to no purpose. She must
do something, was the thought OF one
moment; there was nothing that she
could. was that Of the next. She
threw herself on her bed at last and
slept. She had nothing to be thank
full for, she had said, and she thought
so still.


The next day came letter from
lady in the North, whose name she
had never heard before. The lady
apologized for troubling Miss Mid
dleton, but explained that she had
got her address through friend, and