The Vermont transcript. [volume] (St. Albans, Vt.) 1864-1870, 1867-11-29

home. | had seen form | knew NOV
ing among the grsvestones in the
church-yard, and could think of moth
ing else. nfau
Just then the clerk, ilnging away a
bit of old carpet, called me.
"See, Miss Sophy. what a crack
They'll be sorry they don't Ii ed me
about this floor sometime
( There, Just ut the foot Of the stairs
leading to the gallery where the sing
ers sat, was indeed n crack, wide and
deep, leaving full four inches between
the floor and the lower step at the cor
ner.
The floor is settling, Hiss, said he
The church is getting old, you see; |
reckon it'll last my time, though, - and
he hammered away furiously, making
such racket that neither OF Us heard
any one approaching until voice
cried:
"Ah new carpets. Tie church will
be smart next Sunday"
1t was Andrew Hudson. He stood
looking down upon us with his great
eyes
Not before we need On, sir, said
Timothy. but what's the use O car
pets with floors ike these wearing
them out ? Beg pardon want to pass,
sir ?"
Andrew gave me look. 1t said
come. l felt my cheek flushing l
longed to hear him say that he loved
me, and yet the fancy that he might
be going to speak now, frightened me.
Il have a note / ought to read,
said taking it from my pocket
mo matter; let the note alone; lead
it at home Come sit in the gallery
with me until the rest come.
He said it III such pleading whs-
per, under cover of the old clerk S
hammering that l could not refuse.
We went up together, l not daring to
look Mt him. There was a pile OF new
music on the stand, and in my conlus-
ion sought refuge in that As bent
over the pages he bent over me, and
all in a moment he had caught me
about the waist and kissed me. Such
kiss, l feel it yet burning on my fore
head.
l was not angry 1 viii not tell
falsehood | was glad; but just then
Abby Adair's laugh came ringing up
the gallery stairs, and | wrenched my
self away from him In moment she
was with us, and half dozen more
followed and we were not alone again
that day How many mistakes | made
in my music with the memory Of that
kiss driving away every other thought
from my mind, l am afraid to tell
That evening | watched and waited
for Andrew at home / felt sure he
would come-sure that he would speak
at last; but though | listened all the
evening, did not hear his step upon
the path. At last went to bed, feel
ing sad and disappointed, and forget
ting all about the little note until
was fairly undressed Then | looked
in the pocket OF the dress l had taken
off for 1t. 1t was not there. 1t was
such a singular thing that it should be
gone that | suddenly became interest
ed l wrapped myself IN shawl aud
went all over the house with candle,
but in vain How had lost the note
could not guess, but it was lost I'M
doubleday and somehow the loss be-
gan to trouble me. unilnportaut as
believed the epistle must be
Wei, my trouble began that night
Andrew Hudson never came near the
house, and when Saturday afternoon
came / went to the church to practice,
feeling sure l should hear he was i'll;
but there he sat at the organ, and
never SO much as looked at me when
| came in. When he had occasion to
speak to me 1t was in an altered voice,
and there were great rings about his
dark eyes which made them look hol-
low
What could it al mean, was he i'll
or angry with me ?" longed to ask
him
But lie gave me no opportunity. AS
soon as the hour was over he fastened
away, saying something about an Zen
gagement"
l looked over the LalustraGe after
him and saw him descending the stair
very slowly, with spilitless look up
on his face, that brought hot tears to
my eyes.
Why did he look so? He had been
happy and bright eyed and eager when
we last met, Why did he neither look
at or speak to me? He had kissed me
thea.
L asked these questions of myself
thousand times, but found no answer.
He never gave Inc one. Week after
week passed and he did not come near
our house Time after time sang in
the choir and he never even spoke to
me; and the troubled look was ever
on his face, and he had grown older in
that short space of time.
To love him SO and be 50 utterly
separated from him, even where /
could have touched him with my hand
To feel to my hearts core the GOODNESS
of his look aud tone when he was
forced to speak to me. Oh my heart
was wrung in those days.
1t ached as young hearts only can
ache, and the worst was, it was grief
| could share with no one SO finding
there was no explanation coming, /
laff tho choir had N oOI1 al -