Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1876-04-01

suddenly to Marcia, as they were at
work in the kitchen together:
"Dick Gresham was here yester-
day to see you. He said he was going
away last night, and didn't know how
far he was going, nor how long he
should be gone. He has joined the
engineering-party goin gfrom Hilbury
to the West He told me to tell you
goodbye for him."
''That was all?" Marcia said it
sharply, as if the words cost her
great effort. Her face was very
pale.
eyes, that was ALL" answered Mrs.
Stanhope, busy with the milk-pans.
He never cared for me, I'm sure"
Marcia whispered to her pillow that
night. and then cried herself to sleep.
1t was pleasant afternoon in Octo-
Der when Mrs. Stanhope died. The
sky was full Of dreamy vagueness-a
haze through which the sunshine FL
tered goldenly, and hid the noun
tains far off, and made the hills near
by seem like the hills Of some ghostly
land. The leaves Of the old chestnut
by the door were dropping softly and
with a slow rustic that kept time
to the ticking Of the old clock in the
corner.
Mrs. Stanhope had been failing
slowly for years. Her life had faded
as the day fades; you scarcely can tell
that the light is going out, but the
first you know it is gone. 1t was so
with her. The light was almost gone
out, now. 1t only flickered for
a moment; then there would be dark
ness.
Marcia" she said family.
"Well, Mother?"
'There is something want to tell
you. I ought to have told you long
ago. Dick Gresham left letter for
you when he went away. 1 read it,
and hid it in the old clock. 1t is
there yet. When I am gone, find it
and read it. But not till then, Mar
cia." She looked up pleadingly into
Marcia's face.
mo, not till then," Marcia prom
ised, with a strange feeling of expec-
fancy, regret and anger at heart.
What did that hidden letter have to
say? Perhaps and then she tried to
put all thought of it out of her head
until the time came for her to know
what Dick had hadt to say. But she
could not do that.
By-and-by Mrs. Stanhope said she
wanted to go to sleep. Marcia ar
ranged her pillows, and the sick wo-
man closed her eyes wearily.
She slept long and we'll, for she
never woke again.
The funeral was over. And then
came that awful sense of desolation
which follows ''after the burial"
Whoever has passed through this ex-
perience Of life can never forget the
dreary lonesomenesS, the solemn ST.
lence that is about the house. The
world seems to have stopped for a
little time.
Tick, tick! the old clock kept re-
peating that night, and Marcia went
to it to solve the mystery it held. She
took off the old door, and removed
the curiously-carved front. In the
bottom covered with the dust of tif-
teen years, she found the letter she
had never known Of for so long.
She read it through with a curious
blending Of pleasure to know that
Dick had loved her, and bitter regret
for what she had lost. Ifshe had only
known then! Now her life must 60
on as it had gone so long, but she
should have it to think of that he had
loued her!
She laid her head down against the
old clock and cried softly. His love
would have been so sweet. 1t would
have made life so pleasant. But it
was lost. It had been lost for fifteen
years.
There was knock at the door. She
got up drying her eyes hastily, and
went to admit her visitor, hardly con-
scious Of what she was doing, but act
ing more from force of habit than any
thing else.
A man stood on the threshold.
Marcia, he said, and held out his
hand. "You don't know me, guess.
am Dick Gresham. came back to-
day. heard of your mothers death.
and Iknew you'd be lonesome, and 1
thought perhaps you'd be glad to
SCC OIL oAA AilCLI, ~ uluuo DOlu 10
come"
"Oh, Dick, Dick!" she cried, and
then broke down in true woman
fashion. 81 wonder what sent you
here tonight? 1 have just found the
letter you wrote and left for me before
you went away. never knew there
had been one until three days ago.
You can't blame me for not writing,
as you asked me to, Dick" and then
the face of this woman, whose years
were thirty-five, and out Of whose
heart you would have supposed all |
girlish romance had fled, grew sudden
ly hot with sweet shame to think Of |
what her words meant.
God sent me, guess" he said,
with great gladness in his face, and |
he caught her to his heart, and kissed
her. Il was sure you loved me, Mar
cia. but the letter I looked for never
came, and 1 thought your mother had
got you to thinking as she did So
I gave up hoping for that which I
took it for granted had lost and T |