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at the appointed time on the lady,
Mrs. Cromer, -whom she found in a
hoarding house in a good part of the
city. Mrs. Cromer, good natured
and middle-aged, impressed her fa
vorably. "You see, it's like this," said the
lady. "I'm going to live in a country
town. I shall be ajl alone and shall
not know any one in the place. I
don't know of anybody to take with
me. It's going to be lonesome and
small pay, but you said it was most
ly a home you wanted."
"Yes," broke in Marian, "that's it
I think I should like to go."
So it was settled; she was to leave
with Mrs. Cromer the next week.
When she was told the name of the
place was Rackley she gave a little
start, but what did it matter? No
one knew her there.
"Pollock's Folly" had suddenly
taken on a new lease of life. A force
of workmen were going in and out
and the transformation was the talk
of the town. The owner must be in
tending to bring a bride; but when
the middle-aged Mrs. Cromer and
her companion moved in, Rackley
was again disappointed.
"You see," said Mrs. Cromer to
Marian, "I have just the dearest
cousin in the world. When my for
tune went to smash and he found
me in a boarding house, he said:
'Now there's that empty house of
mine going to rack and ruin, and
you without a home it's selfish. If
you'll live there, I'll fix it up.' Well,
I jumped at it" And she told the girl
how the woman he had loved had
left him and the house he had meant
for her had been for years' too sa
cred a place to be ever entered by
any one. She did not mention his
name, but the story set Marian won
dering. "Isn't such a love a wonderful
thing?" mused the lady. "And to
think that girl wasn't worthy of it!"
"No, she wasn't," answered Mar
Ian, "but she was young and foolish,"
The other woman looked up quick
ly. "Why, did you know her?" she
asked.
"You said she was young, didn't
you?" said the girl evasively.
"Why, there he is now!" cried Mrs.
Cromer, and the next moment Mar
ian was face to face with Pollock.
Both covered the shock "of meeting
as quietly as posoible with common
place greetings, but Mrs. Cromer
saw that something unusual had
happened and soon made an excuse
to leave them alone.
"I haven't any right," she said, to
even think you care to know, but "
And she told him the whole miser
able story of the last ten years.
"Oh, I came to know to realize
how foqlish how mad I had been,"
she added brokenly, "butit was too
late."
"Yes too late," he said. And with
no more words he went
'It seemed strange to Marian that
she should be living in the place
which had been so lovingly conse
crated to her, only as an interloper.
She found herself watching and lis
tening for the sound of his voice; but
days and weeks went by and he did
not return. One morning she saw in
the newspaper which had just come
in a notice of the death of the noted
j tenor, Marco Torini. There was to
her no. sorrow m the news, only a
feeling of liberation. She went out
in a secluded corner of the garden
to be alone. Suddenly a voice broke
the silence. Pollock's voice, speak
ing to a workman. She started' to
go back, when he strode up quickly,
detaining1 her.
"Marian," he said. "I have been
thinking it may not be too late."
Looking into her eyes he knew
that he was right.
o o
Connecticut courts are seeking to
punish a man for "blasphemy" be
cause he attacked the story of Jonah
and the whale. What would Jiappen
to one who disbelieved in Santa
iClaus?
t-etHummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmimi
