Part 2 (1/2)

”Confound him!” said Leonard beneath his breath; and if Jane heard, at thatto induce her to remonstrate

”Well, Jane,” he went on, ”the matter lies thus: either you o-by Listen: in six months you will be twenty-one, and in this country all her relations put together can't force a woman to marry aone whom she does wish to marry Now you know my address at my club in town; letters sent there will always reach me, and it is scarcely possible for your father or anybody else to prevent you fro a letter If you want my help or to communicate in any way, I shall expect to hear from you, and if need be, I will take you away and e If, on the other hand, I do not hear from you, I shall know that it is because you do not choose to write, or because that which you have to write would be too painful for me to read Do you understand, Jane?”

”Oh! yes, Leonard, but you put things so hardly”

”Things have been put hardly enough to me, love, and Ito you”

At this ht; it was none other than the distant voice of Mr Beach, calling from his front-door step, ”Jane! Are you out there, Jane?”

”Oh! heavens!” she said, ”there isme I came out by the back door, but one She watches me all day now What _shall_ I do?”

”Go back and tell theood-bye to me It is not a crime; they cannot kill you for it”

”Indeed they can, or just as bad,” replied Jane Then suddenly she threw her ar her beautiful face upon his breast, she began to sob bitterly, , what shall I do without you?”

Over the brief and distressing scene which followed it may be well to drop a veil Leonard's bitterness of mind forsook hiht best, even going so far as to le his tears with hers, tears of which he had no cause to be asharowing louder and ot,” she sobbed, ”here is a farewell present for you; keep it inher hand into the bosoave to hiether, and in another moment she had vanished back into the snow and darkness, passing out of Leonard's sight and out of his life, though from his mind she could never pass

”A farewell present Keep it in memory of me” The words yet echoed in his ears, and to Leonard they see heavily, he opened the packet and exae: a prayer-book bound in morocco, her oith her name on the fly-leaf and a short inscription beneath, and in the pocket of its cover a lock of auburn hair tied round with silk

”An unlucky gift,” said Leonard to hi on his coat, which was yet warm from Jane's shoulders, he also turned and vanished into the snow and the night, shaping his path towards the village inn

He reached it in due course, and passed into the little parlour that adjoined the bar It was a co its adornments of badly stuffed birds and fishes, and chiefly reht-iron dogs There was no laht of the burning as bright, and by it he could see his brother seated in a high-backed chair gazing into the fire, his hand resting on his knee

Thomas Outraile mould His face was the face of a dreae and reflective, and the mouth sensitive as a child's He was a scholar and a philosopher, a , with refined tastes and a really intie up absently; ”where have you been?”

”To the Rectory,” answered his brother

”What have you been doing there?”

”Do you want to know?”

”Yes, of course Did you see Jane?”

Then Leonard told him all the story

”What do you think she will do?” asked Tom when his brother had finished ”Given the situation and the woman, it is rather a curious problem”

”It ebra yearning to be worked out, I don't quite see the fun of it But if you ask me what I think she will do, I should say that she will follow the example of everybody else and desert me”

”You seem to have a poor idea of women, old fellow I know little of them myself and don't want to know lory of their sex to co on these exceptional occasions 'Woman in our hours of ease,' etc”

”Well, we shall see But it is reat deal more of their own hours of ease than of those of anybody else Thank heaven, here comes our dinner!”

Thus spoke Leonard, somewhat cynically and perhaps not in the best of taste But, his rejoicing over its appearance notwithstanding, he did not do much justice to the dinner when it arrived Indeed, it would be charitable toman at that period of his life He had sustained a ht he could never quite escape frorace, or put out of his mind the stain hich his father had di over him He had just been driven with contuuests; he had parted, moreover, from the woman whom he loved dearly, and under circumstances which made it doubtful if their separation would not be final