Part 3 (2/2)

”I had so deterh-ton was on the point of giving a tart reply to this, but restrained himself

”Then I may look upon the matter as settled?” he said ”The Consolidation Bill is to becoet your bill” Mr Worthington had got his hand on the knob of the door when Jethro stopped him with a word He had no facial expressions, but he had an eye, as we have seen--an eye that for the second titon,” he said, ”a-act up to it No trickery--or look out--look out”

Then, the incident being closed so far as he was concerned, Jethro went back to his chair by the , but it is to be recorded that Isaac Worthington did not answer hiet that you are talking to a gentleman”

”That's so,” answered Jethro, ”so you be”

He sat where he was long after the sky had whitened and the stars had changed frolance upon the green leaves of the park Perhaps he was thinking of the life he had lived, which was spent now: of the ained from that place which would know hireatest of his victories there, compared to which the others had indeed been as vanities Perhaps he looked back over the highway of his life and thought of the woman whom he had loved, and wondered what it had been if she had trod it by his side Who will judge him? He had been what he had been; and as the Era was, so was he Verily, one generation passeth away, and another generation coton arrived at Mr Duncan's house, where he was staying, at three o'clock in the ht fro in bars across the lawn under the trees He found Mr Duncan in that room with Somers, his son, who had just returned frorave event Miss Janet Duncan had that day eloped with a gentleraph So He had long hair and burning eyes, and a title not to be then verified, and he owned a castle near some place on the peninsula of Italy not on the , as we do, an annual pass over the Truro Railroad Cynthia has been there all the summer, and as it is now the first of Septeain I do not by any means intend to imply that Brampton is not a pleasant place to spend the summer: the number of its annual visitors is a refutation of that; but to Cynthia the season had been one of great unhappiness Several tie in front of Ephraio to Coniston, and Mr Satterlee had come himself; but she could not have borne to be there without Jethro Nor would she go to Boston, though urged by Miss Lucretia; and Mrs Merrill and the girls had implored her to join them at a seaside place on the Cape

Cynthia had arden behind Ephraim's house, and she spent the summer there with her flowers and her books, many of which Lem had fetched fro and shbors who dropped in A these were Mr Gamaliel Ives, who talked literature with Cynthia; and Lucy Baird, his wife, who had taken Cynthia under her wing I wish I had time to write about Lucy Baird And Mr Jonathan Hill ca been foreclosed, after all When Cynthia was alone with Ephraienerally from books of a martial flavor,--and listened with an admirable hypocrisy to certain narratives which he was in the habit of telling

They never spoke of Jethro Ephrai cah his affections It is safe to say that he neverthe girl, but he had had a general andof it ever since the tione back to the capital; and Ephraiht home his Guardian or his Clarion now, but read theht not disturb her

No wonder that Cynthia was unhappy The letters came, almost every day, with the postmark of the town in New Jersey where Mr Broke's locomotive works were; and she answered theh not every day If the waters of love rose up through the grains of sand, it was, at least, not Cynthia's fault Hers were the letters of a friend She was reading such and such a book--had he read it? And he must not work too hard How could her letters be otherhen Jethro Bass, her benefactor, was at the capital working to defeat and perhaps to ruin Bob's father? when Bob's father had insulted and persecuted her? She ought not to have written at all; but the lapses of such a heroine are very rare, and very dear

Yes, Cynthia's life was very bitter that suhts were divided between Bob and Jethro Many a night she lay awake resolving to write to Jethro, even to go to hi herself to do so I do not think it was because she feared that he ht believe her appeal would beJethro as she did, she felt that it would be useless, and she could not bear toin the tannery shed would not serve, nothing would serve And again--he had gone to avenge her

It was inevitable that she should hear tidings fro with it And as week after week of that interrew upon Brampton that its first citizen had been beaten by Jethro Bass Soton's affairs was known: therun to their full capacity And then had coton was beaten, a local representative having arrived straight fro it to Ephraih she despised herself for it Isaac Worthington was hue her Despite her grief over his return to that life, there was so to compel her awe and ad afterof these sa but praise for hiton that night When the baron is defeated, the serfs co their curses across the lad when the day cahts which tortured it

And then, when she stopped at the post-office to speak to Ephrai behind the partition, and she stood, as one stricken, listening beside theOther tidings had coram The first rumor had been false Brampton had not yet received the details, but the Consolidation Bill had gone into the House that , and would be a law before the as out A part of it was incomprehensible to Cynthia, but so much she had understood She did not wait to speak to Ephraiain when a h the partition door Cynthia paused instinctively, for she recognized him as one of the frequenters of the station and a bearer of news

”Jethro's come home, boys,” he shouted; ”coht off to Coniston Guess he's done for, this tihty! Callate his day's over, froered to hear no more, and went out, dazed, into the Septeone to Coniston Resolution ca home, she wrote a little note and left it on the table for Ephraiain, ran by the back lane to Mr Sherman's livery stable behind the Bra that familiar road to Coniston, alone; for she had often driven Jethro's horses, and knew every turn of the way And as she gazed at the purple h the haze and drank in the sweet scents of the year's fulness, she was strangely happy There was the village green in the cool evening light, and the flagstaff with its tip silvered by the departing sun She waved to Rias and Lem and Moses at the store, but she drove on to the tannery house, and hitched the horse at the rough granite post, and went in, and through the house, softly, to the kitchen

Jethro was standing in the doorway, and did not turn He ht she was Millicent Skinner Cynthia could see his face It was older, indeed, and lined and worn, but that fearful look of desolation which she had once surprised upon it, and which she in that instant feared to see, was not there Jethro's soul was at peace, though Cynthia could not understand why it was so She stole to hi her arms about his neck, and with a cry he seized her and held her against hi Had it been possible to have held her there always, he would never have let her go At last he looked down into her tear-wet face, into her eyes that were shi+ning with tears

”D-done wrong, Cynthy”

Cynthia did not answer that, for she remembered how she, too, had exulted when she had believed hiton's downfall Now that he had failed, and she was in his are--only to rejoice

”Didn't look for you to come back--didn't expect it”

”Uncle Jethro!” she faltered Love for her had o, and she would not say that, either

”D-don't hate me, Cynthy--don't hate me?”

She shook her head

”Love me--a little?”

She reached up her hands and brushed back his hair, tenderly, froesture was her answer

”You are going to stay here always, now,” she said, in a low voice, ”you are never going away again”

”G-goin' to stay always,” he answered Perhaps he was thinking of the hillside clearing in the forest--who knows! ”You'll come-sometime, Cynthy--sometime?”

”I'll come every Saturday and Sunday, Uncle Jethro,” she said, s up at him ”Saturday is only two days away, now I can hardly wait”

”Y-you'll come sometime?”

”Uncle Jethro, do you think I'll be away from you, except--except when I have to?”

”C-come and read to me--won't you--come and read?”

”Of course I will!”

”C-call to mind the first book you read to me, Cynthy?”

”It was 'Robinson Crusoe,'” she said

”'R-Robinson Crusoe' Often thought of that book Know soain, sometime, Cynthy?”

She looked up at hireat hill opposite, across Coniston Water

”I will, indeed, Uncle Jethro, if we can find it,” she answered

”Guess I can find it,” said Jethro ”R-remember when you saw him makin' a shi+p?”

”Yes,” said Cynthia,” and I had my feet in the pool”

The book had made a profound impression upon Jethro, partly because Cynthia had first read it to him, and partly for another reason The isolation of Crusoe; depicted by Defoe's genius, had been comparable to his own isolation, and he had pondered upon it much of late Yes, and upon a certain part of another book which he had read earlier in life: Napoleon had ended his days on St Helena