Wee Wifie

rs, I know not

depth of some

art, and gathe

n the happy

f the days tha

on's P

a picture,

bling in a grass ditch; and a brown baby asleep on a bench; beyond, low broad fields of grain whitening

air; some one, trailing a white gown unheeded in the sandy dust

s and dead-brown hair, the shade of withered

n to the end; who, from the depths of a noble, selfless nature, looks out upon the world wi

side her, her wistful eyes looking far away seaward, one could have compared her to a Norman or a Druidical priestess unde

th a lusty cry-a suggestive human sound that effectually breaks up the stillness; for at the same instant an urchin whittling wood in the hedge sc

mar tran

flocks of snow-white geese waddle solemnly across the grass; the boy leaves off whittling wood and chases the yellow-bills; through the leafy avenue comes the loaded corn-wai

th winding through the bare harvest fields, where the gleaners are busily at work. From under the tamarisk hedge comes the shadow of a woman; as t

ing steps to the spot where the other woman's feet have rested, and there she

the whirling of insects in the ambient air; under the shadowy elms a girl smiling b

*

ell cat asleep on the great wicker chair; beyond, the sunny little herb-garden with its plots of lavender, marjoram, and sweet-smelling thyme, the last monthly roses blooming among the gooseberr

; his tiny hole of a mouth just opened ready for the small moist thumb, and his bare rosy feet beating noiseless time

er pleasant face; yes, those were her very words, as

her beautiful eyes. Oh, but you are a saint, Miss Margaret-every one knows that; but, as I tell Martin, it is a sin and a shame to r

rgaret?" and the shadow that had come from behind the tamarisk he

om her eyes with something like

e before one like a flash of lightning on a summer's da

the young stranger, bitterly, "my good Catha

your poor face in the sun; come in and I'll give you Martin's wicker-chair by the open window, where you can smell the sea and the fields together, and I'l

ate woman, Catharine, and fetch me a draught of Daisy's sweet milk and a crust of the old brown loaf, and I will than

little enough, I'll be bound." And so saying, she hustled up her dress over her linsey petticoat, and, taking a tin dipp

at lay like a furry ball simmering in the sun, but on the old brown settle behind

ay on the table beside her; and the sunlight stre

beautiful too, in spite of the lines that sorrow had eviden

curled lips and grand profile, might have befitted a Vashti; just so might the spotless queen have carried her uncrowned

oth on the small oaken table beside her, and served up a frugal meal of brown bread, honey, and mil

e; "I have done justice to your delicious fare; now draw your chair closer, for I am starving for news of Mar

enough you'll think mine bad when told. Hark, it only wa

whom are you tal

but of the young master?" but the girl

soft tongue of yours. How can Hugh Redmond be marri

s-Sir Hugh Redmond weds to-day with a bonny bit child from foreign parts that

olive complexion grew pale. "You are jesting, Catharine; you are imposing on me som

est face grew overcast. "Do you think Miss Margaret's own foster-sister, who was brought up with her, would deceive you now?

ed hand and pressed it between both her own. "I will try to believe you

d his deserts. He loved her true, Miss Crystal; he loved her that true that

hey had been engaged nine months; yes, it was nine months, I remember, for it was on her birthday that he asked

, or Miss Margaret and Mr. Raby at the Hall; and when he was away, for he was always a bit roving,

had forgotten

s in bad health, and he had a strange hankering to die in the old Hall. There is an awful mystery in things, Miss Crystal; for if it

Sir Wilfred obje

off things to the morrow as should be done to-day, and either ha did not tell his father of his engagement to Miss Margaret, or his letters went astray in those foreign pa

nsent? Margaret was beautiful, rich, and well-born. Do you mean to sa

and she heartened him up, and bade him wait patiently and she would win over the old man yet. Well, it is a sad story, and, as I told you, neither Martin nor me know what rightly happened. Sir Wilfred came up to talk to Miss Margaret, and then

an loved man, Margare

hat the light had gone out of her life, and that her heart

e, Catharine, if I had any tears left I t

y will cool the fever in your heart, and make

will only talk of my poor Margaret

was right to forbid their marriage, and though it was a cruel trouble to them both, they must bear it, for it was God's will, not S

hom do you me

yngate Priory, the big place, up yonder, some of the land ad

olonel Mordaunt

fter Sir Wilfred's death they found a letter with the will, charging Mr. Hugh by all that was sacred not to marry Miss Margaret, and begging him to go down to Daintree, and see Colonel Mordaunt's beautiful young daughter. Miss Margaret

re is some myster

thing, and going on reckless-like, but Miss Margaret she was like a rock-she could not and would not marry him; and in his anger against her, and b

d lives, and the sun shines, and the birds sing-one hungers, thirsts, sleeps, and wakes again,

ly Mr. Raby-he passed an hour ago with the pars

im lift the latch of the gate; you wi

ot see you. He is only standing in the porch, for a sup of m

not there," murmured

t him on most likel

et voice from the porch, "how long

ndeed," answered Catharine's

ame voice; "waiting will do me g

t and peeped through

th labor; he was in clerical dress, but his soft felt hat was in his hand, and the grand powerful head with its heavy dead-brown hair and pale face were distinctly visible under the shadow of the ivy. He did not more at the sound of the st

d it is yellow and rich with cre

s from Catharine and held it to him; he drank it with seeming unconsciousness and with lowered e

n evident alarm. "Ah, there is Johnnie come for you, he is waiting at the gate; h

strange; Catharine's hand never felt like that; it always seemed puckered and rough to me, but this felt soft and cold as it touc

r, only

, I am always fancying things;" and then he sighed and put