Shepherdstown register. [volume] (Shepherdstown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1849-1955, 1875-07-31

1he haunting voice became presence
all too soon. AS Will came home she
met him in the passage; a little, swift
gliding figure, with soft dark eyes set in
pale, fair face "Not bit like mother, y
he thought, with curious feeling of sat
isfaction; but as she passed he saw that
her eyes were humid with fear and grief
"What is the matter?" he asked, in
voluntarily.
willie! cholera! the doctor" she
answered, rushing by into the street that
was wet with recent rain.
Stay! | can go faster" cried Will,
following her. "You go back to your
brother" She obeyed at once, with the
quick docility of a gentle intelligence,
and he thought again, "Mother would
have talked for an hour"
The doctor soon came, but not soon
enough. Willie was very i'll. Bravely
the little fellow struggled, but the foe
was too strong for him.
Strange" the doctor muttered, i'm
patiently; the last cases are so often
the worst. thought it was over for a
year."
A week before another lodger in the
same house, gluttonous man, had made
himself ill, feasting on muscles, and
plums, and beer; he recovered, but the
poison thus brought into the house fas-
tened on the weakest there. The child
died There was nothing more to be
done for him. All at once. for the first
time in his little life, Willie wanted
nothing, not even his sister.
She went about her necessary work
with an oppressive, bewildered sense of
leisure upon her. And Will-if the joy
Gus voice alone had distracted him so,
how could he work now? now that it
recalled the meek, desOlate face of the
mourner, now that the cry had changed
into such a pitiiul beseeching Willie!
Williew
The day after Willie was buried it
happened that Will paid his rent, and
took the opportunity to inquire after his
fellow-lodger.
"Poor young thing" said the motherly
landlady, cit makes my heart ache to
sec her, up there in her little room,
where they were 50 happy, those two.
She says the very walls seem written
with his name, and the things he used
to touch, cry Alice, Alice just as he
called for her at the last; it is enough to
craze her; there isn't an empty room in
the house, or she should have it,"
"Ask her to change with me-" said
Will, eagerly; "tell her | should be so
glad, if She would not mind; the light
1
Alice consented doubtfully. " 1t seems
like deserting Willie" she said "and
vet one has no right to let oneself get
i'll; tell Mr.. Blake | accept his offer
gratefully"
She had grown little stately in her
solitary grief, and Will stammered over
his prcmeditated speech. only name is
Willie, too; couldn't you take me for
your brother"
go, no." she answered, with direct
simplicity; che was so naughty, the
darling; 1 never could have him out of
my thoughts for moment"
Alice, herself, had this kind of naughti-
ness for Will, and now, living i'll her
room, he seemed to be encompassed by
her presence; his tools and work felt
rough and coarse amid the dainty little
arrangements that marked womanly
hand.
"If it hadn't been for knowing moth
err be unused, one evening, q" | might
fall in love, | do believe; as it is, know
better"
So, knowing BETTER" he shrank from
an intercourse that might, in some sharp
answer, bring Alice down from her pc
dcstal on which he still chose to place
her, iustifying his bright dreams to him
self bv saving, "It is pleasant to make
believe, as the children say"
Alice, meanwhile, had found a cheer
ing employment in putting Wills room
straight. as she called it. Such pity,
poor man, for him to live in such mud
die, and him so clever, too"
She had found some torn drawings in
the Uttered fireplace, and carefully
smoothed them out as treasures over,
looked. Will, coming for book, found
her thus busy, and said, smiling:
"They are of no use; | don't want
thcm."
"They seem wonderful to me-" she
said, looking up frankly.
"Ah Just as women's work does to us.
put button on my cuff this morning,
and it is off already"
"Let me sew it on; | have a needle
here"
Will muttercd something about "troub-
ling her." but she answered, 81 ought to
do ANYTHING | can; you don't know what
good the change of rooms has done me.
/ suppose it is like rich ladies going out
of town."
"You have made grand improvement
here" said Will, looking around. The
same room, the same furniture, but what
had been dreary confusion was now fair
peace. :.
"I wish you would stay here always .
he added.
Alice was about to answer, / do not
mind" not understanding him; but
something in Wills eyes made her own
droop; the little fingers trembled over
their work; suddenly Wills hand caught
them. "Alice, will you stay here-will
you let me love you-be my wife,
She shrank away from him. Il must
not-I must not"
"Why not? tell me, darling"
"Mother said, when she died, Child,
never marry Father made her so un-
happy"
ave are kindred in trouble, then,
that is ALL" said Will; mother some
how tormented father, so that | resolved
to live and die alone. Let us both give
up our hard purposes-will you, Alice"'
Wills tone pleaded better than his
words; they gained him the victory.
From the wreck Of the past seemed to
spring bright future, like the flowers
from out of last years dead leaves.
By-and-by there was wedding; the
motherlv landlady gave Alice away, and
Will took her as the great gift of his
life.
L L L L