New Orleans Republican. [volume] (New Orleans, La) 1867-1878, 1871-07-23

and, leaving me in the carriage at tn
} gate, went up to the house on foot to Sc
/ Walters mother She never stopped yer.
long, though am sure that if Mrs. Cover
had liked to have had her she would hav
taken up her abode there to watch ant
: nurse by night and day. But the sicl
mother cared for no one; only counting thu
hours before her son should come, ant
fretting that Scot had not made him hasten
The day when Walter might have arrived
had passed, and only then | could see how
unquestionably Pennie had depended on hi
coming. She seemed bewildered, unable t.
believe he was not in the train, and she stood
on the platform as it rolled away, her yearn
ing eyes following it piteously.
There were so many hindrances pos
sible," L told her." $50 many unforeseen
things might have occurred to delay him.
But she never answered ME word; anC
then that whole week went by and still he
did not come, her silence grew more dis
tressing to me than passionate grief OIL
anger.
On the last day the post brought two let
tiers; one for Pennie, which she read will
cold, tight lips, then threw across to me
and one Tor Scot, which he had taken away
with him unopened.
The old lady was so fidgety. Walter
wrote that it would be ridiculous to suppose
that she meant him to come home from such
distance, and have the bore and expense
of going back when her little attack of fea1
had subsidized. She wanted him with her
In the meantime he had written to her and
1t would be all right.
l read no more. folded the letter and
handed it back to Pennie, asking her if she
did not think it would be better for Scot 10
have holiday for time that he might not
feel his duties pulling him two different
ways.
"No, Charlie" she said at once Papa
and both think las you would if you had
been to see Mrs COwen) that it is better for
| Scot to have his old work. If he were con-
stantly with her, fretting as she always is
| for Walter, it would harrass and weary him
more than this change does. She never ex-
presses wish to have him always there;
yet ne is tender, cheerful nurse, Charlie y
| did not answer, for just then Sc came
IN, greeting us both with his gentle smile
! He had been to the station-a fruitless
errand now, and PeInie had never been
since that first hopeful day-and | could see
| by her glance at his solitary figure as he
came up that the old hope had been with
| her this morning. l had thought it would
be so, because by this time Walter might
| have arrived, in answer to the letter She
Lerself had sent urging him to come.
Il think my letter must have miscarried,
Scot" she asked with quiet usefulness;
don't you p
'Oh, he would be sure to come" Scot
said, looking quickly away from her face.
There was no placing dependence on for
eign posts"
suppose you were to write again :" pro-
posed Pennie, deferentially.
That was exactly what he had been think
ing. There must have been some mistake
in the last address.
Wouldn't it have come back in that
case g | suggested.
I'VE certainly ought not to expect it back
so soon," he decided. But he would not
wait for it. he would write again at once.
And after he had left us, | could not help
telling Pennie what | had heard at the
postotfice-that every night letter went
from Scot TO his brother, with a large lin
mediate on the envelope.
Pennie turned away from me in angry
heat.
What does he write then! Why does he
not write what will bring Walter home. and
not fret and worry him. yet keep him there
while his mother is dying 7"
Then her wrath and courage broke down.
and she leaned her tired little head against
me. and sObbed out the fear. and love,
and disappointment which size had hidden
so long.
After that she was very petulant with
Scot more petulant even than in old times
And when the subject which | knew to be
always uppermOst IN her thoughts was men
toned, she would say impatiently that we
all made ridiculous fuss; that Mrs. Cowen
was not really very i'll, only fancying it
that Walter, of course, would come as soon
as he could; and that she was tired to death
of the worry there was in the house lust
through the stupidity of Scots letters.
Saving nothing of her own letter. which
had been equally unavaiIing, ! would try to
tempt her to read to me, or play, or drive.
but she would only refuse me with quick
No, and leave me suddenly. coming back
presently to throw her arms around me and
sob that she was a wretched ungrateful
girl, and did not deserve to be loved by me,
Or-Walter. And as this wearying time
went on, she went about the house with
small, tight lips and restless hands. and
grew always harder and more contradic-
tory TO Scot whenever, she spoke to him at
all.
Four weeks had gone by since Pennies
last letter had been sent to Walter. when |
early on one sunny August morning Scot |
sent messenger to tell us that his mother |
was dead | had to tell Penne myself, and |
when | had done so in few sad words. she |
broke from me and ran up stairs. Through |
that long, lonely day she never came near |
me, and began to realize what it would be |
TO live without either Pennie or Scot
l sent telegram off to Walter at once |
announcing his mothers death-though | |
felt sure Scot had done so. And at last nv |
father came in, and Pennie crept in her |
place among us.
Not once did she mention Walters name |
to me; and on the night before the funeral, |
when, following the arrival of the London |
express, a cab drew up to the door, heard |
her tell the servant she was engaged "to |
every one" He, knowing, he did not mis-
her quiet, firmlv-spoken order. |
Aal+ low lot ], 4
the darkness TO the home that was so doubly |
now.
It was the morning after Mr. Governs |
funeral and was sitting in our pleasant
study, basking, as invalids love to do. in |
the morning sunshine. Leaning at the win
dow, in her old attitude, stood Pennie,
looking out upon her cherished flowers, but |
seeing little of their beauty Scot was
S ting at his table, his head upon his hand.
Whether it was the long, vain watching for
Walter, or the sleepless nights and hard |
days work, or the hidden grief, / did not
know, but certainly his face was white and |
haggard as had never seen it before. Sud
denly he looked across at me with his own
brave smile.
Come, Charlie, we have been idle too
long, dear fellow"
l had risen and was sauntering toward
him, when the door was opened and famil-
lar face looked in upon us
Pennie, Pennie, darling! Fancy never
coming to meet mel" Walter cried, throw
ing down his hat and coming forward.
grand and handsome in the glowing sun
shine. " Pennie, darling, here ann And
be was close beside her, his arms open to
receive her.
She gave one look into his face, so swift
that she only seemed to have moved her
frOr he int n
Where are you going, Scot 2" she said.
. Please don 4 90 AWAY This il ro,,r roor,a j