THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 139 



CHAPTER III. 



PRIDE VERSUS MONEY. 



THAT afternoon, about four o'clock, Mary Wellson could 

 be seen dreamily walking up and down the gravelled walk 

 at the lower end of the garden. With downcast eyes she 

 paced back and forth, apparently lost in thought, yet really 

 with sharp eyes and ears, ready to catch the sight and sound 

 of any passers on the little path which wound over the grass 

 in the pasture just beyond the wall. Every few moments 

 a quick glance was cast towards the field, or to the house at 

 the upper end of the garden. From one direction she 

 hoped for some one's coming ; from the other she feared any- 

 body's approach. 



" Why don't he come ?" 



An old, old question asked once more by fresh lips. 



" Why don't he come ? He knows I wait for him." 



More steps alone, and further efforts to quell the rebellion 

 in her young heart. A rebellion and protest against the 

 family fates. Why did these wretched money matters come 

 in just now to ruin all her hopes ? 



The pretty fingers twisted themselves together tightly 

 over her breast, and the bright eyes were sparkling with 

 unaccustomed tears. 



