The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1876-09-06

floating up above the horizon of the long
interval below. It cheered him mex
plicably, like an omen, promise; he
stood up and struck one palm into an
other. "I will have her yeti" he cried
and went into his dreams.
"Can you think of anything, Rose,
where we can economical" he said, nexi
day.
Economic |" she repeated, gayIy
"For what2 In what9 With what 2
$50 that we can raise two Thousand
dollars" he answered, gravely.
She sat down as suddenly as if some
gigantic hand had been laid on her hea6
and had crushed her into the seat.
"Two thousand dollars !" she gasped
"We couldn't economizeit in two thou
sand years, for I don't know where we
waste cent"
81 must get it in some way, then, il
I have to 60 out saving wood after
hours"
"Why, Roger 2"
"For.capital to go into business"
"The house would sell for five hun.
dred more than you want"
"The house!" he said. "That is not
nine"
Rose stood up, moving one thing and
another nervously about the table; her
lips trembled, and all at once she ran
out of the room. "Oh, he cares moth
ing for me-; he despises me he disre-
CARDS me ; he would take nothing from
mel Because it is mine, it is not his,
and he wants nothing of me"
"She takes no interest in it; she
doesn't care a whit whether I 60 into
business or not; it matters nothing to
her." he sighed. "She flashes out Of
the room and about her business as in
differently as though I were the merest
stranger at the gate" And he jammed
on his hat, and went to his work, head
down, hands in pocket, and gloomy as
the grave. All day long that rosy,
dimpled face fitting between him and
every customer; all day long the awful
figures, $4,000, writing themselves on
the wall before him like Meae, meme,
tekel upharsin;; and when, late in the
day, cloud slowly rose and hung over
the fields and marshes, till all the sky
was purple and all the land was in
shadow, and low thunders begun to
growl in its breast, and sharp lightnings
leap from it, it seemed to Roger only
something in accord with his feelings,
for it beftted nature to be as dark as
his own outlook. "...
It was terrible storm, though, be-
fore another hour had passed. Peal
after peal the thunder crashed over the
little village, and tumbled it's deafening
bolts among the hills; flash after flash
the lightnings cracked and unrolled,
and from moment to moment wrapped
the place in sheets of fame; and after
one report, when the heavens seemed
to shrivel like bit of burning parch-
ment, the bark of the century old elm
in the square where the little band
played on summer nights had been torn
off in one long spiral from top to bot
tom, and the tree had answered the bolt
in a pillar of fire. As the storm in
creased, Roger remembered Roses fear
of thunder, and plunged out into it, de-
termined that she should not be alone
in such q moment of absolute terror.
The rain met him half way, worse than
any ightnjngs-a gray, sitting down
pour, in which it was impossible to draw
his breath, and his only refuge was to
take to his heels and run as fast as ever
any Lampad ren race.
She must have seen him coming, for
she set open the door, though she stood
behind it. "What made you leave
shelter in such a storm as this ?" she
cried, and just then there came an over
whelming flash, the fire of which seemed
to penetrate her brain. She clapped
her hands to her face with shrek, the
house rocked and the door swung and
slammed, and she fell fainting upon the
floor.
When Rose came to herself, she was
lying on the lounge where Roger had
placed her, and the storm was slowly
rolling off below the horizon, with now
and then a smothered growl, and the
rain was pattering only in thin showers,
which the freshened breeze shook from
the vines and boughs. She sat up di-
rectly, and presently, as soon as she
found her feet, went to the window to
look about. The whole world seemed
sweet and rich and glistening in thesun-
set, with sort of delicious underlight,
aud the birds were wild with music.
Roger stood beside her at the window,
looking out into the enchanted atmos-
phere. They were both silent; and
just then good old Mrs. Vance came up
the garden walk rom her own adjoining
one, fearing Rose was alone, and not
having dared herself to come to her be-
fore; and she staid to tea, and wanted o
game of cribbage in the evening; and
when Roger came back from escort duty
to old Mrs. Vance, Rose just lifted the
candle fame between her face and his,
and saying goodnight, hurriedly, was
away to her slumbers.
Roger went to his, that is to say to
his room. Sleep he could not. His
thoughts were whirling at such q rate
with his emotions that he was wider
awake than ever before. He stepped
out on the old broken balcony of his
window and watched the slow wheeling
of the consultations, and heard the tiny
cracking sound OF leaves and raindrops
and pebbles in the garden, of some night
bird, maybe, tapping the bough, &r else
the dead vine branch beating on 8 win
dow pane, and be thought how hard and
bitter thing was life, and half cursed
it; and then the vision of Rose would
steal before him-the sweet, smiling
face, the dimpled velvet cheek, the shin
ing eye, gentle motion, gentle spirit
and he said to himself that it was
enough for any one to live in the same
world with such a thing as she.
But at length it occurred to him that
this was enough of star gazing. If he
were ever to be man fit to win her,
even if unable, he must cease his day
dreams and work, and to work he must
sleep. He returned to his room, and all
at once, as if something stung him at
every pore, he staggered back. What
strange odor was this2 what strange at
mosphere after the cool night fragrances
The room was full of thick pungent
cloud-it was the smoke of burning.
"Fire! fire! fire!" he heshouted, and sprung
through the door for Roses room, only