Year: 1876

ter a long time ne ufIt1 MS neaOs ana
drawing out mia watch. took from the in
ner part of old fashioned silver case q
lock of hair, faded now, but once a
bright warm brown. Over it lay a lit
tie watch paper on which was painted in
water colors a wreath of forget-me-nois
encireline two clasping hands Under
meath the whole was the name Phoebe" !"
He gazed at these treasures long and
steadily, while the hard look of suffer-
ing went out of his face and his eyes
grew tender and moist with tears He
leaned his elbow on the window sill and
/ looked out across the happy autumn
field to the church yard where for so
many years poor Phoebe had rested
from her sorrows. Then his eye went
on to his bro;her's house, from the door
of which he presently saw little Lizzie
pass out and take the path TO the or
ehard. At sight of her his lips CULVER
ed slightly; he heaved one great sigh
and then said. as if summoning strength
for some final resolution, eyes, ] will
go and sell her."


Poor Lizzie had thought her cup was
full before; but this day she was sure
she could bear O more; and escaping as
soon as possible from her mother, she
sought the only place where she would
likely 10 be uninterrupted, that she
might cry her heart ont alone. She
hurried along till she reached her favor
ite seat beneath an ancient apple tree
whose long branches dropped so low IS
to almost ionch the ground. On one
| side was the wall, and on another a huge
| harherry bush, so that she was almost
entirely shut from view. and any one
! approaching could not be seen until
| close upon her.


| Now, not far distant from the Joce-
lyn orchard, and separated from il only
by a small field, was a pleasant strip Of
woodland. 1t wGs part of Mark Boyn-
tons farm: and up and down its shaded
paths their owner had been recklessly
walking ever since he left the church.
| He alone, of all present that day, had
understood in flash the old mans
| blnnder and Its cause. In that moment
when he drew himself up proudly in the
face of all who looked at him, he was
saying to himself, "She belongs TO me,
and she shall be mine. That notice
shall be repeated here, and it shall he
no blunder."


Now, as he restIessly paced to and fro,
quite convinced that affairs had reached
crisis and could never stay as they
were, he was fully resolved TO make a
good fight for his rights. lie was just
making up his mind 10 go to Robert
Jocelyn and have it out with him at
once, when he CHANGED to glance across
the field to the orchard beyond, and his
ewes caught the hntter of pink dress
among the trees. Well he knew who
had worn that pink muslin. in church;
he knew, too, the nook under the apple
tree, for he had sat there more than once
with Lizzie Heath. Without a mo-
ment's hesitation he sprang over the low
stone wall and went straight across the
field TO the old tree. There, as he ex-
pected, he found Lizzie. 1t is unneces-
sary to relate all the arguments he used
to bring her to his way of thinking; al
least they were not Immediately effec-
tive, for the poor girls conscience and
sense of duty were unfortunately array
ed upon the wrong side. They had been
thus occupied for perhaps half an hour
and were on the verge of a genuine quar-
rel. Lizzie, with tear-stained face, sal
pulling nervonsly at the long grass
Mark stood before her talking earnestly
She had said something about repairing
her mothers wrong. He interrupted her
almost angrily:


"How can you repair one wrong by
doing another? That your mother fail
ed to keep faith with Robert Jocelyn is
nothing to you. \ girl is not bound tc
marry every man her mother jilts. il
she did wrong by him you cannot make
it right by doing me the same wrong.
tell yon that my claim is better than
his. That he loves you have no doubt
how could he help it?-but love you
as well az he, and you love me, for you
have admitted it with your own lips
Oh, Lizzie! don't you know that love has
some rights as we'll as duty?"


What answer Lizzie might have made
I cannot tell, for just then the sound ol
a step in the grass made them botI
turn, and there stood Robert Jocelyn
Mark Strengthened himself with def
ant look, but Lizzie sat silent and trem


bling. 1t was to her the newcomer
spoke.


q thought TO find you alone, he said, but
perhaps it is better as it is. / have heard
part of your conversation, and whar
Mark says is right. l have thought il
all out myself to-day, and came to tel
you so. | have made great mistake
but, thank God, have found it out be
fore it Is too late. i hope you will for
give me, Lizzie. ! have not been faith


full to your mother, for | promised hel
upon her dying bed that would watch
over the happiness of her child; and
have not kept my word, but seltishly
sought my own happiness, forgetting
yours. Long ago | regarded you as III,


child; it was presumption in me ,o
think that you could be anything else


But my eyes are fortunately opened. !


will be all right between us, for l hav,


found my child again"


He stopped and kissed her twice upoI
the lips so like her mothers. Then
taking Marks hand, he said:


This child has promised to be mine
! give her to you. Be good to her, an,
may God bless you both"


Then he walked slowly away in tn
direction of his brothers house. Tn


young people looked after him in silenc
their own great joy forgotten for tn
time in their sorrowful sympathy fo