354 



THE AMERICAN BEE-KEEPER. 



Decembei' 



family, ruy liie hcie vvtre, I hotcd, be- 

 youd reproach. Even if it were a ques- 

 tion of ruouey, I iiad eiiougij piivato 

 means, as you linow. As for Miss York, 

 well, of course, it would be lonely with- 

 out Ella at first, after so many years' 

 corupanionship, but surely she didn't 

 expect her never to get married. It was 

 preposterous. 



"I was destined to know her objec- 

 tion. As I approached the lodge tne 

 pcrteress met me. 



"'Oh, Mr. Bourn, this is shocking. ' 



"I was more puzzled than ever. Why 

 juy' engagement to Ella should be 

 'shocking' I couldn't see, and I, no 

 doubt, expressed it in my looks, 



" 'So sudden, too, sir," said the wom- 

 an. 'Nobody expected it. ' 



" 'Whatever's the matter?' said I. 



" 'Why, haven't you heard that Miss 

 York is dead? No. Oh, dear! Poor 

 thing. Had a fit in the night, doctor 

 says ; was quite unconscious when Miss 

 Ella got there, and died at 9 o'clock this 

 morning. ' 



"My heart sank. I felt faint and gid- 

 dy. It was some minutes before I could 

 move. You will never know how it 

 feels, Howson, unless you should have 

 euch a blov\', which I hope you never 

 ■will. But I am bound to say that my 

 one thought was 'my poor, lonely dar- 

 ling, Ella. ' 



"There were no more details to be 

 learned about Miss York's death. She 

 was buried in Lowmarket churchyard,, 

 Ella was ill for weeks and could not see 

 even me. When she was well enough to 

 attend to business, it was found that she 

 inherited all her aunt's money, and an 

 fhe had already accepted me we were 

 mari'-'ed a tv.clvemonth afterward. She 

 bad beeji awfully lonely, she said, since 

 jyiiss York's death, but no couple had 

 ever lived happier and been nearer and 

 dearer to each other than Ella and I. 

 May God bless her!" 



"Amen!" said I solemnly and rever- 

 ently. 



"Ella and I, " pursued Jim, "could 

 never give the remotest guess as to her 

 aunt's objection to our engagement, 

 and it would probably have remained a 

 mystery to me, as it has to Ella even 

 now, had it not been for the following 

 eircumstanccs. Some time ago I was 

 sent for at the prison to see a rather des- 

 •oerate character, whose end was very 



near, hb naa t»een sent to seveiryBarB' 

 penal servitude some three years before 

 for forgery, and after serving two years 

 at Portland had been transferred to 

 Lowmarket. His appearance was supe- 

 rior to that of the ordinary convict, 

 even when a forger. Although I had 

 seen him several times, and certainly 

 been struck with his face and appear- 

 ance, we could not be said to be friend- 

 ly, as he had been indifferent to all my 

 advances. 



"I found him lying in the hospital, 

 and I soon saw that he would not live 

 very long. 



" 'You seem pleased to see me?' I 

 said. 



" 'Yes, sir,' replied No. 152. *I am 

 glad you've come. I hardly expected 

 you would, considering how stand offish 

 I've been. But I wanted to see you, a.« 

 the doctor says I'm not likely to lasl 

 much longer — perhaps not till tomor- 

 row. ' 



" 'There, well, never mind. Keep 

 your courage up, and you'll probably 

 deceive the doctor. ' 



"I talked to him about his soul and 

 spiritual things. That we may pass by, 

 Howson. I believe he was thoroughly 

 penitent. I asked him if there was any 

 thing I could do for him. 



" 'Yes, sir; there is one thing, if you 

 will. It's such a curious one, I hardly 

 like to ask you. ' His eyes looked eager- 

 ly at me. 



" *Go on,' said I. 'I'll do it if possi- 

 ble.' 



" 'I've had a queer life, sir,' said the 

 convict. 'I might have been somebody 

 and done some good, but I got led 

 astray after marriage and broke the 

 heart of my wife, who died soon after- 

 ward. Yes, I've led a bad life, and it's 

 precious few friends I've had lately any- 

 how. But I hope I may be forgiven, as 

 you say God will pardon even the worst 

 of us. And if you'll promise me to do 

 one thing when I'm dead I shall die 

 happy. ' 



'' 'I'll 1 remise as far as I can,' said 

 I. 'What is it?' 



" 'It's to take care of your wife,' an- 

 swered No. 152. 'Ah,' said he smiling, 

 'I thought that would astonish you.' 



" 'Take care of my wife.' I gazed an 

 him in amazement. ' Why, of course I 

 shall. But what is that to you?' 



" 'A great deal,' said he. 



"'Why?' 



