The Rector of St. Marks

"Then, if that is so and Arthur loves her, as I know he does, it is

surely right for them to marry, and they must," Lucy exclaimed,

vehemently, while Thornton laid his hand pityingly upon her head and

said: "And only you be sacrificed?"

There was something wondrously tender in the tone of Thornton's voice,

and Lucy glanced quickly up at him, while her blue eyes filled with

the first tears she had shed since she came into that room.

"I am willing--I am ready--I have made up my mind and I shall never

revoke it," she answered, while Arthur again put in a feeble

remonstrance.

But Thornton was on Lucy's side. He did with cooler judgment what she

could not, and when, at last, the interview was ended, there was no

ring on Lucy's forefinger, for Arthur held it in his hand and their

engagement was at an end.

Stunned with what he had passed through, Arthur stood motionless,

while Thornton drew Lucy's cloak about her shoulders, fastened her fur

himself, tied on her satin hood, taking such care of her as a mother

would take of a suffering child.

"It is hardly safe to send her home alone," he thought, as he looked

into her face and saw how weak she was. "As a friend of both, I ought

to accompany her."

She was, indeed, very weak, so weak that she could scarcely stand,

and Thornton took her in his arms and carried her to the sleigh; then

springing in beside her he made her lean her tired head upon his

shoulder as they drove to Prospect Hill. She did not seem frivolous to

him now, but rather the noblest type of womanhood he had ever met. Few

could do what she had done, and there was much of warmth and fervor in

the clasp of his hand as he bade her good-by and went back to the

rectory, thinking how deceived he had been in Lucy Harcourt.

* * * * * Great was the consternation and surprise in Hanover when it was known

that there was to be but one bride at Prospect Hill on the night of

the fifteenth, and various were the surmises as to the cause of the

sudden change; but, strive as they might, the good people of the

village could not get at the truth, for Valencia held her peace, while

the Hethertons were far too proud to admit of being questioned, and

Thornton Hastings stood a bulwark of defence between the people and

their clergyman, adroitly managing to have the pulpit at St. Mark's

supplied for a few weeks while he took Arthur away, saying that his

health required the change.