Year: 1871

let thines 20 on and I shall forget
him, or grow Indifferent 10 him know
myself-I shall live in down.


You need not, poor child. Tor be loves
you too.n


Yes, know that" she answered with
the RECKLESS openhess that made her what
she was.


Alter that, 80 much Of the world A,
knew the Blighs and Dundeos had a fresh
and delightful source OF wonderlnent for q
time. The marriage between the owner Of
the Chase and MAdge was broken of, and
still they were friendly; and still neither
would listen 20 one word against or con-
ment on the conduct Of the other. Time
would tell, people said sapiently, reserying
their belief as TO what time would tell to
themselves.


Six months passed, and then Theo Bligh
received those letters of which mention
has been made. One was from Madke, and
contained these words:


Your uncle has promised 20 explain
everything. ! need only say that | shall
always be your faithful friend, MadgC
Dundee


|
tained free forgiveness, this was only
implied, not coarsely volunteered,) and 4
full account. "Come back and win what
have lost, and as love you as my SON.
so will love her as my daughter That
was something like an invitation from Q
defeated 10 a successful lover
Once more fate was against things right
ing themselves in the clear and good way
that was made so open. Theo had by this
time taken a situation in a mercantile
house in New York-a situation of trust
which he could not hastily quit, or place
another man in rashly. Great interests
were involved in it, which he could not
endanger by his absence for a year al
least. But life was bright TO him again
and he bore the delay bravely, having
illimitable faith in the girl he loved and in
himself. Had she not calamity won this
faith, by avowing her love for him, and
losing the richer man and the better posi-
ton by the avowal? Had she not, of her
own free will, written to him those few
sweet words of promise? Small wonder
that he could live contentedly through the
present, when such future loomed before
him.


At last he was iree-free to 90 home
and win his bride, and obtain personal
absolutioh from his uncle for those sins
which love had made him commit. Fate
favored him now. The steamer was fast
one, aud in fortnight he was down at the
Chase, grasping his uncle's hand.


And now you know what my next
m l.,O ha
were over, subduing his own gladness as
much as he could, out of respect for the
sorrow by which his uncle bad bought it.
"What is the matter2" he added in alarm,
seeing a change in the kind cordial face
that was bent on him. "You know have
come to ask her to be my wife,


81 have borne an awful grief and disap-
pointment, but I'd bear 1t again rather
than have to tell this to you, my boy.
You have stayed too long"


"Good heaven? is she dead 2"


"Not dead, but as lost to you as if she
were; and you must go back, and she must
never hear you have come, or she will be
true to herself pityful and overland, and
like women generally, shall ! say
She is married, you have stayed too long.n


1t did not kill him, and it did not send
him to the bad, convenient locality to
which fiction-writers frequently consign
their Tilted heroes. But it dulled his life,
and robbed him of his belief in the good
ness and fidelity of women.


Notwithstanding which he forgave her,
and was friendly with her in the after
years; and though her fickleness had
earned his contempt, he never paid the
debt. And so poetical justice was not
awarded to the " fragrant firt" Bonnie
Dundee, who would have been a better
woman if she had not been so thorough a