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II KM : n N I" M 1IELE.V CHUKCIHXL'S LOVEIt. has come into the place, and married a you said you had been long out of ' the stranger found himself lingering on bonny wife, ,ho has.'V ' l England. Well, I shall be glad-tost still, talking to sweet, placid-laced Mar- Thoilvcry gray of a Fmniner.dawn "The old Squire had a daughter, had him backhand shako him by the hand, I gared Stisted was sireadinir itself oicr the landscanc. "0 not?" rendering soft ami indistinct all familiar ' " Two. You know them?" objects; yet, even seen by its dim, un- " I knew of tbcm," the stranger re certain light, lie looked more like one I plied, evasively. And then, pointing to grown prematurely old by reason of I a small white house that was visible hard work or withering care, than as if i through the trees " And to whom does he had Mi-rely pascd from youth to age that belong?" by the ordinary gentle gradations; ''That? Why, to Mrs. Sutton, poor His brow was lined, his hair silvered, j body." . , fl and there was a stoop in his shoulders' " And why do yon pity Jicr?" '1 which told of hard and continuous toil; I " You must be a stranger indeed, sir, yet, notwithstanding the-e drawbacks. to ask why!" there were the remains of youthful "Then, enlighten. me,, tTell me the beauty in the well-shaped head and ' story." clear gray ecs. I "Story! It is a queer story. and bid him forget the past. If there He had half a mind to ask her about is little else, there is still his mother to ' this village tragedy that was occupying come back to. What was he doing I his mind this morainr: but "better t . . .... when you saw him, sir? " " He had heard ho was frco." "And what was he like? and was he minded to forget the past, and return to England?" "He was a saddened, sobered man when I knew him, with only one hope left, out of the many life hail once offered; and he was going home." He had arrived at the nci'rhborin'r town.too late the evening before to catch the lst train to this lklle out-of-the way hamlet, too late.to do .nuglit but seek, a bed thorp; Jnt utter three or fourhonre, the rcsXlingcraving to complete - his journey mm crjKjwcrtd him that he rose and pursued ins way on foots And now with the ilelicaf o llght'of 'early morn sil vering the birches,, and dimpling the waters of the stream, he stood a length where his feet had not rested for fifteen years. Hut thecc fifteen years, awful as they had been at the time, seemed but not," he decided, " better wait now." And ho had waited so long, that a little longer could not make much difference. So he just dawdled on about the farm and the pleasant farm-garden long enough for the day's work to be well in hand, and then he wished his hostess ' Good-bye," and with quick, impatient steps took hi3 way to the village. Once there, he walked straight to the footpath across the meadows that led np " And what was the hone, if I mav i make to bold as to ask? l'prhms he Almoft , fcnr liie innttior Tifiil oT-rVujlirtt-fl Ihn from Hrtlinrnn Villlfrp tn Ttitlinrnn Min- tool sad In r.lll hv Rtielt ;i n;tmit Slio :i .l :r .. i; i 1 ..... I... .!. ......J .7- i. l was the doctor s wife, a sweet tpretty ' JIaybc; but he did not speak of her. I and gazed with tender eyes at the little woman as ever I -aw, fifteen years ago, with a fair, handsome boy, that she was that nroud on, that it would have done you good but to s-ee tho two together. perhaps because he was so surq of her. He told me that the last night before he left England you know ?" tho fflmiPf llOildoil tlifit Tin tiiil in intor. He, the doctor him.clf, was a bit cross-1 view with " graincd-lcastways, so I've heard say .. Yes, yes," interrupted Mr. Stisted, au.iuuu.i.iimji-iiji.1 Hiij me uiuiuur sagely; "we heard all about it, though and son should think so much of one , it was kept so dark. It was Miss Helen, 4UUIUC1. "The father did not over-like it: still. he was open-handed with tho young man, cuucaien mm nnciv; fending mm house on the opposite of the road, that exactly faced him the little creepcr- covereu cottage wlicre the Doctor's widow lived. He even made one half-step toward it: but "So," he murmured, "sAe comes first. We will go there together." But Still hft linlrpil. n if lrimrinir tn ,iTri-rt bless you, the little j cllow-haired Miss the mysteryof those drawn blinds; and Uliurclnll. sixteen years ago nearly, so j eien as ne tnus paused there was tho as a dream now, scarcely to'bc recalled I to cLo! anU, college, until it was easy on wakjng, as he stood, thus looking at eacn wcil-romemberetl sot. With a sigh, the wayfarer brought back his sinning thoughts from past to present, and" became aware that the sun had risen, the birds were chirping forth an early sngf and the dewdrops wcrofrlitlcring all anSi'rid '-on tho ro.e crowned hedge by which he stood, on the sprays of eglantine, and on the far awayjCTcen.nM.'adowathat lay between tho village of Ilythropo aqd" Hythrope Manor, V alf-way up Uio wooded slopes opposite. "At length lam homo again," then ho muttered; "at length," throwing his bend back with a certain Joyful ges ture, ami stretching out a rough, toil wonrhnnd, as if in token of greeting at length the years are over the work is accomplished the punishment wrought 'but andl am back to rlaim my prize! Ah!" tarting slightly, as a voice addressed him with u brief " Good-morning." " Good-morning sir." Something in the stranger's appearance apparently brought lorth that "sir," which had not formeil part of the original sentence, but was hastily added on as lie turned bis head to see who had addre.-ed him. " You are about lictimcs," the new comer went on. " It is not many of the gentry as troubles 1heml ves with the .sight of a summer sunrise." 'Thcymi.s much," said the gran ger, unelly. ; i hougli perliaps tn ns. seeing that the boy, who was fine-look ing enough, was beginning to think no small things of himself. Tis said he even lifted his eyes to one of Squire no harm in speaking of it now and all so changed since! Well, she saw him to say Hood-by.' " " Yes, so this man told me; and that they parted, she saying that, let her people say or do what they might, she woniu await ins return in perfect trust OnurchUrs. daughters leastways, at ' and patience. mo ia.it. jsut I am not telling it you , "A pity he did not give his love to straight on ! ou should como and see , the other sister," remarked Mr. Stisted, my wife, if you wish to hear the story " if -ill stories are to be believed." well told." . I it Whv?" " Because she was in love with him always ; and plain though she was. Miss .lane was a good, true woman, and has never lifted her head or looked at an other man since those sad days." "Is that really true?" " Xo call to misdoubt it, sir; any one in the village will tell vou the same "Hut was there such presumption ?" i quired the listener. " You say this vour lii- ivthis vmrnff man was well educated and good-look- ' ing, and perhaps" after a second's ' hesitation " the lady liked him." "He should havo known his place better," said Mr. Stisted. sturdilv: " leastways, he should have learnt it. "V - -f, -.'"""n" i'""t "--. came out auout tins poor young Sutton Mho possibly have seen, nncarly ,-very keeping company with Miss Churchill; morning of our In cs, it is a commoaaJ- for t sScms-the foolish young thin-, not fairenONgh!" .' being able to see him elsewhere: had What is a young lady's fancy worth? stoiy; and, as I said before, 'twas a She was but sixteen. Squire Church- pity, seeing as everv thing has worked ill s daughters were not for such as he. I round right, that'it was not on Miss However, this love-makin'r. or what- ' .Innn n h ur i.u fri;nne. f.,,. i.: ever thev mav chose to r.ill it. ms nnlr ert ..!:.. ;-i. -..'- t" discovered aftcrwanl, when every thing there would not have been such a great a urongiii in ngnt. aim in me mean objection to his bavin" her." .";,'.".',. . . 1"u stranger maue no reply, ap- Vnll3il .id-Ail I IA HHtlMI. lnn:n ., . . . .. . J? " , -" -i. isji, uauuij; parenuy oeing lost in thought over forward with interest on his face. . Farmer Stisted's last words. And he "A murder was committed here. , continued: Yes, you may start. In this quiet vil-1 " He would not have been such a bad lagc, where nothing was heard out of i mateh in those days, for her, at least; the common from one year's end to ( for he was a fine, gallant-lookim' young another; in this ullagc-in that lane . chap, with a pleasant word forevery whero it joins Squire Churchill's I one." grounds Squire Churchill's second son " You remember him?" was found dead." ) "Yes, weU. I never thought very ill !, iTT-' . .. , , . .,! of him, myself. A hasty word, a blow, "Ana then, as I said before, it all these come over-milel-ln- w).n tli M. came out about this poor young Sutton J is youn"." " Do you think I am like hnn?" The speaker drew himself ud. and stood look- ing with something almost like anxiety 1 into Farmer Stistpd's rn,l vimilr f.in agreeil to meet him in that lane on that ! into Farmer StisiP.l's nl rvm.lt- f.,n very night ; for one of the farm lalwrers ' " When I knew him," he added. " we said The farmer looked at tho speaker in some surprise, and he added immedi- ,,,anv;rZ:i VwCnrf 'KiT. i S?? h"P th.rouSh . usel to be often thought tQ resemble one ii7tl. 7 ii-i " .: . " i " meauows nome, only a lew minutes I another." r'Vi',"'T --i;u,ii.auiuu before he heard a cry, and ran forward ' "Icannot'ce it mvseii sir" sa '1 1 1 TCatlon ,rora arrer- to find poor MasteAlarry lying there , Mr. Stisled. slowly' " mfuh'en sir. "Man and 'boy. I have lived here lnf m, c . ., . ' &"?3. Paon' U is."ot casJ-to 4" these fifty j ears. That h my farm," , up ?" pointing with a proud, possessu e air in o tne uircction whence he had come, "Manor Farm." "Then vou ar Sutton was ' Of course, sir. But now comes the taken , comparisons between thn vnnnrr mil tho old." The man addressed unfolded his arms. , queer part of the story. For though he and leant once more against the stile! ' half escaped the tifully that he had killed Sir. Harry for heaving a uick impatient sih as hedid so. "It is fortunate, 13 it not, Mr. " 7 1 "" .,. u . U4U.M HJrtkUVIiaUAUICUilU, Jlilili II lilt dlf Mill lllini . I mi tli ik ti'nn.1. .n 3.1. ..1 1 all! 1 I I a.1 I. i. . " ..,.,.. ...v...v., .. .,ulUs ( . ituing uui wnai ne inoogiu 01 dh con-1 Stisted. that hearts do not alter .15 niiift-. sound of horses' feet, and there came in view, down the narrow street, a carriage drawn by two fine chestnuts. Before it the village children fell hastily back, and, standing on one side, gazed with mingled awe and admira tion. And assuredly it was a sight to call forth admiration, for every thing seemed so perfect; the carriage itself, the prancing horses, the fair-haired girl, so like the young, lovely mother by whoe side she sat, the two little golden headed children opposite. There was surely no fault to be found anywhere. Only, to a wayfarer standing by the roadside gazing at them, the sun seemed of a sudden to be darkened in heaven, the earth to have lost the beauty of a summer's morn. "Helen!" he cried, in tones of an guish wrung from a breaking heart, but she did not near. She saw him,' of course, for she was looking at him, wondering, maybe, who this stranger was in familiar little By thorpe. But that was all. The dust from the carriage wheels made thick the air for a moment, and when it cleared away the vision had vanished. " Who is it?" he questioned, when he could command his voice, turning to a villager standing by his side. " Yon lady? Ladv Edmcadc. She's goin' to I.unnon. She was daughter of the old Squire's," he added, " and mar ried Sir Wilfred Edmcadc." " Has she been married long?" " Let us sec.now. Twill be fourteen years come August, for it was the same dav, I mind well, as my voungest was born. Eh, but she has bonnie chil dren," he murmured as he turned away. And Itobcrt Sutton found himself alone in the bright early sun, scarcely four hours since be saw it rise for what was to have been the happiest day of his life, and already the end had come. He waited thus, reviewingthis ending to his romance, fora few seconds; think ing of the sunny-haired, broken-hearted girl, who had clung to him those long, iong r years a?o. tho tears streaming down her checks. " I believe in vou. Robert. Whatever the world may say, I believe in you Only swear to me that you will credit n.,.mi..i i. i,:j .,...:,. . i . , , " . . . . '-'""-" " ..n ts uu uui uult lis 0U1CK- ""ift .iuisi. luu iiiiki. uu may near, mu ted b his companion. I duct, and was condemned to be hung h-as faces do?" for I trill be true fo vnn. An.loh. Rolw be ,, ,!!S.?1 ?H. n 7 it J ' . " . a.,cr y let off rith " y. r, I cm not see asyou're right ert, directly you are free, come straight 410 repeated. 4,jiie now.as it was mv transnnrtRtinn fnr fifinn iik t- I i. . n.r n.. r . .. i . .. C ,. , , t i -ii r , v . -.-.. j..o jvuiuivic. iicuris irow ouicr aionc Willi " m wan, mouni ll oe lor iathersl-oremv.andwnU.pleaseGof, ' now it seems-" the faces thev beW .n. pli.i.Vi vears!" mn wivr Sfv;-;,.l Mm, "h llt.7Mnothe,aftcrall?" and wives would not get along as well And he hid kissed her and sworn it. "A iiertect life, .Mr. Sti-teJ. A home. , "How did -von ninuth.it? Thottinr t ,1. t , .5i, .. , - .1 .u ..i,i., ,. . , ,,i(.',i i:.,i , ,., ivi. , .,ii ; 1 .1. -1 TC .- , .,s mci uu. js bcotw uiuer ourselves, hj uun wjh luiuiieu ms pan aife,ad little ones. What could a day there comes tho news as another , we do nnt mi thvntl, in ti.a f ' of it. it lMst. hn,;.l m i.v "V?. .1 Tft in. . - ti..,s "lan.h1M.cn'f toke crime on his , posite ; leastways, 1 don't in Maggie's," i Then, th'oe few brief seconds over. V, . 1 i l'os them?" deaih-lied, ,so that aftcr all, young Snt-1 said the farmer, suuply. BO he crosd the little dustr road, passed ??rit !p JSJn' .1 rL1 ' t0D I'asfsner?11 thJ 3 r wtat " Perhaps that is bemuse you see the I the village school, whence issued the sup ri-e.1 at tho energj in the stranger's was no fault of his. Leastways, so the youth stiirthere; you remember it, you I und of many children's voices singing "I in, not mirrip.1" 1,.. .1,p 1 f U,?R V 'k v ' f J?J"' , . H" ' Eee' " .von had grown old far ' the morning hymn, and entered the low briP.L- -.P. A1 l' mother always believed in him," he apart, it would perhapslave been dif- cottage opposite, and knelt with a great lnell. . ' but, ' ho hastcnel to add, went on after a moment's pause. "Itferent." tearless sob at the feet of in old blind fearing ls reply imght have been wijl come right some day," she often j " Maybe," replied Mr. Stisted, doubt- woman, who, pnttin- out a w thered abrupt, "you know the place, you say ; said to mo : Mr. Stistccf, it wiU come fully, apparent y a litUe out of his hand, and stroking softly tho curls so then perhaps you can tell mo to whom ncht some dav. It is a misearrvino- of .wit,. .n. i :. .- :..?" .i.si.i .. ...Hi. ? ." belongs yonder house," pointing to- juatice.' His' father died-could noi I tack li the fa"' Pp hi' "'"" , 13S " M UZ 7 1 Z' wam tne UKtant towers of Hytliorjie lift up his head again; but hb mother like a bit of breakfast witn us sir Manor. "Until maybe I am detaining has aye waited" There'll be but little doing fo Thcfll J .x- ,, .-.x, c' , Something like la sob burst from his yet awhile, and my wife wUl be gladto " Io, no," replied Mr. Stisted courte- companion, and Fanner Stisted looked see you " ou.lv, "I'm not ..rested for time- up in surprise. The stranger acccptcl the proffered ondpr housc.belongs to S.uire Church. "I have heard something of thu," hospitality, and he and the farmer ill. The young squire we calls 'him 'he said, in a stammering fashion, in turned away together mostly about here, seeing that his fath- answer to the look. "I knew this man Maggio provSl quito as hospitable as er is dead l.ot so lonn siuce." that is, I have met him." her Imilnml ii1jijj ' .1 .u. "Hois dead?" " Is that so, sir? " said the fanner, breakfast h.i.1 W4 nrt.vV .i 1 vith fresh interest. "Ay, I remember t Mr. Stisted had gone out to his Wort 1 1 ' Ay, surely; and young Mr. Edward i 'My son, mv son! Havo vou come. then, at last? Ah! it has-been weary waiting; but I lived on, for I knew, the truth must be known some day, and that then you would come home." Leisure Hours. It is difficult to establish a charge of vagrancy. So lonr as n vounr man cats regularly at a free-lunch table ho ha visible means of sunuort. Ar. o. i wort, I Picayune.