Orangeburg times. [volume] (Orangeburg, S.C.) 1872-1875, 1872-07-24
EANGEHsURG vvEnNIasDAY, IA

tales of misery and distress in the circu-
lating library9"
s s Nonsense, Mabel!" Hts tttcw tessI
growing darker. Mahel's eyelids dropped
lower. Apparently she was deriving in
tense satisfaction from their coliloquy;
ztaI have allowed myself to be triAed
@ithelong enough, Mabel. One way or
he.other, l must have my fate decided
today ~ 'fs ''.'&
y Mabel yawned. .1 wish I could fur
ynisll you with a nice old fortune teller,in
q. red cloak, to decide it for you, Gerald"
xviii you give me my answer, MabelY'
She Strengthened up het 1.-the, willowy
figure with sudden moti6fi.
staPleass fikg the bell. I forgot to order.
tea, and papa will be home in ten min
Ntes."
he rose quietly, rang the bell, rnd bade
her good evening. Apparently tile slen-
tier thread of his patience had given way
last.
q Are you going, Gerald?"
II am going, Mabel. and I shall not
return"
81 He stood nm instant, to give her the
opportunity TO cali him back to her side,
e she wished to do so; but she only stuck
her worsted needle ruthlessly through the
Patriarch Abrabam's nose, and folded
her work, and so they parted.
And Mabel gathered up her brightcol-
cred work, singing softly to herself; with
6ufJous smile dirnpling her mouth
SCI wish was man." said Mabel, half
aloud. II know wouldn't make such a
goose of myself for the best woman that
sger lived. Not return, indeed. He'll
be back again tomorrow morning. Oh,
dearl whele did that provoking little ball
dc pink floss roll to? And Abraham s
color won't be worth a fig without itw
81 Fiftecn minutes later, Squire Wayte
tamc iii, stamping the vet off his boots,
and rubbing his hards together.
"Why, how dark it is! Where are your
lights, child? What thunderstorm we
have had. The little bridge at Rikcr's
is Washed completely away. The banks
have been shclved in, they say."
"The bridge in Riktr's Gieh?
Mabel dropped the basket of work from
her hand. She remembered with sud-
den start of unsyllabled fear that Gerald
sillingsby had plunged into the woods,
taking the very path that led through the
Glen. She knew that it was very dark
even in the open landscape-bow much
more in the tangled shadows OF the Glen!
Gle will not know that the bridge is
gone-he will miss his footing and be
dashed in pieces" was the wild fear that
rose up to her brain. ooh, Gerald, Ger
ld!-but perhaps it is not too late to save
him yet"
And before the astonished Squire coald
venture word of question or remon-
STRANGE, Mabel had futtered out into the
twilight, and vanished.
Down through the lovely glcn-path,
needless Of the sharp stones that cut
through her dointy kid slippers, reckless
of briars that caught at her garments, and
showers of moisture that descended from
dripping bough and tangled underground
Mabel Wayte hurried on, with beating
heart and face that was alternately flush
ed and colorless. If she should be too
late!
And then it rose up before her like the
blank wastes of a dreary deseft-what
life would be without the faithful love
and worship of Gerald Silingsby?
But Mabel was only weak girl after
all, and her strength began % fell and
her limbs to yield beneath her ere she
had gone half way. A mad impulse of
despair took possession of her heart, but
the next instant it was supplantcd by a
ray of hope.
Charley !thank Heaven, there's Char
ley He will hasten on--he will warn
Gerald" 81
How thankful she felt in her heart for