The Portland daily press., 1877-12-29
daily care had made ber tnrn and ,ook. ond

daily care had made her turn and look: and
now 1t was too late. When the first snow
storm of the winter came, and she remem-
bered that it was heaping his unknown grave,
the cold terror of it chilled her marrow. Ali
the gay Christmas season that he used to like
so much, she sat in darkness. She forgot her
father, and all the need of household cheer,
and it was only when she saw the pitying
faces down stairs that she resolved to forget
herself, her sin and her grief, and help them
all to gather what sweetness there was in this
life she found so bitter. And she made her
New-years gifts ready and helped her young
sisters decorate the rooms and the simple ta-
BILE they could spread, and lent them her
dainty ornaments that she used to value so,
and that now, at twenty-five, she was, done
with.
1t was great, white snow-storm, though
a fierce, driving, drifting snowstorm-that
wrapped earth and sky when that day dawned,
beginning the eventful year. They would be
friends indeed who adventured through it.
The girls and their chosen companions, new
ertheless, were just as gay in the parlors as
they could have been in the sunniest weather,
imagining arrivals, and, when nobody arrived,
receiving each other in turn, as if there were
procession of callers at the door. They
were none IF them so sweet, so willful, so
charming, as poor little Betty had been; not
one of them had the dark, rich beauty that
belonged to her yet; they never would have
the train of gallants at the door that used to
cross its threshold for Betty's sake. She
wondered what they found to laugh at; in all
the wide, sad world there was nothing at
which she could smile; the very blowing of
the gale, the whirling of the snow and sleet
through the white, cold heavens seemed only
to answer her own misery. She sat in the
little side parlor off the others, staring through
the window with her wild and wretched gaze,
though, for appearances, book lay open in
her lap. Her thoughts had gone upon their
long flight; and, after the first CRATE and jar
of it upon her, she heard nothing of the
laughing and twittering, of the suspended
music and the opening and shutting doors.
The joyousness of the day, like sunshine
breaking through storm, was nothing to her;
she noted none of the fragrance of the flow
ers, none OF the gay cries OF the echoing
voices; her thoughts were under that snow
heaped sod with Will. 1t seemed to her if
she could only once see him, and see him
alive, the very relief would kill her; but, oh,
how hard it would be to go if he were in the
breathing world! She longed for him back
with fresh longing to take the stain and bur-
den off from her; and then she longed for
him back that he might just put his arms
round her and take her, that she might rest
in his presence. Why had she never loved
him till he was lost? And now he would
never know it. ''Oh, Will, Will, WHIP she
cried-and cried half aloud, all unaware
''if you only knew how loved you'll If you
only forgave me-" And there the
words were stayed by pair OF bearded lips,
the arms she had wearied for were about her,
her head was pillowed on breast Did the
dead walk? did the grave surrender, then?
Had he come from heaven to take her, to
forgive her? Was it Wil-with her father,
with her sisters, crowding in behind him?
Had he never died at all, but gone back from
hospital to sheep farm, and only come at last
by some wild magnetism in the strength of
her longing for him? The questions surged
through her mind as the snow-fakes surged
outside; and then it seemed that he must be
some great, accusing appartion, come only
to destroy ner; the world was reeling blackly
away from her, end it was, maybe, nothing
but the kisses on her lips that held her firm
to life, that called her back to light and joy
in Will Maunder's arms, on this one New
Years in thousand!