The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1877-05-23
! remember---and she is sort of smart look
ina now T think"

| ! remember---and she is sort of smart look
ing now, l think"
1" She looks we'll enough, but she is
mighty proud---unbecoming in a deacon $
wife. Her name was Grace.--Martha
Grace; YOU know Thaxton was most crazy
after her.
Miss Dunlap paused, and looked into the
/ fire. | thought / knew she had spite
against the deacon for being bewitched by
| Martha Grace, when she herself was in the
bloom oil youth. She commenced knitting
and talking.
"This girls father is in Boston about
some business, and she is going to stay here
this winter. I should think it would kill
her. after that climate. They've given her
| the strangest name; it's been running over
in my head ever since / heard it--Runce,
| Runee Grace"
! A week after that, us | was carrying my
mother up to the village, she wished me to
stop, and leave her while at Deacon
! Thaxon's; she had not called there in 4
long time, and she owned she was little
curious to see Mrs. Thaxton's niece. Would
l 90 in with her?
The very question gave me tremor OF
! fear and delight. No, would not go n.
/ would stop for her when came back. l
caught fecting glimpse of the pale attrac-
tive face through the window, as l drove
away. 1t did not leave me once during the
! time that I traded at the store, and with
the farmers. When stopped my horse at
| Thaxton's gate, the front door was Instantly
opened, for my mother had been watching
for me. She came out, and Miss Grace fol-
lowed her down the pathway. She had
hastily thrown thick wrap of Mrs Thax-
toms over her shoulders, and she shivcred as
she leaned on the gate. thought her more
beautiful than ever, and my heart beat
heavily as she extended her hand TO me,
and said to my mother, who was waiting for
ME to help her into the carriage.
; "You did not know that had seen your
son before Mrs. Lyons lie once guided me
through the unknown wilderness that lies
between your house and this. Ii didn't
thank you at the time, Mr.. Lyons, / was
none the less grateful.
! | stood like the witess Ounce I,Tas, not
Knowing what TO say; l was too vividly
conscious OF the touch of those fingers TO
have had even my usual self possession at
my command. My mother relieved me by
speaking.
"Indced, did not know he had seen you
---he had never mentioned you to me; and
in such little village as this we are always
interested in new comers.
She laughed.
"That is unfortunate; am to suppose
that I was not OF sufficient Importance to
be mentioned.
My mother was now in the carriage. /
turned and said:
"To tell the truth, Miss Grace, was'al-
most sure that I dreamed l saw YOU coming
down that path from the woods. | did not
think of telling our meeting for fact, no
more than should have thought OF relat-
ing as such 4 vision of the night
"Am !, then, very ghostly?' she asked.
"Not ghostly; 4 vision is not necessarily
ghost. l am happy to be convinced that
You are tangible and will not fade away, so
that may hope for another meeting
! She smiled sweetly, notdistantlv.
II am so tangible that I think of trans
forming myself into Yankee girl. Can |
tell you anything more practical than
that
"No; that satisfies me. Now may hope
to see you again
bowed and drove away.
The days of that last autumn month ran
rapidly on. went to the little social gath
erings, the lectures, the singing schools be.
cause Miss Grace true to her promise OF
becoming a Yankee girl, went to them. At
first stood somewhat aloof; bolder young
men talked with her more than did. She
was q great favorite with all; even the
girls liked her. The sudden flashes OF
unique simplicity charmed them, and dis
sipated envy. Evening after eve'ing had
seen one handsome young fellow monopo-
lize her attention and walk home with her.
The fact actually made me morOse.
One night managed to sit beside her at
singing school. The cold night air had
given soft, warm blush to her face. had
thought that l liked her pallor better than
any color, but The color made her brilliant
Two or three drovping leaves of geraniunl
were in the braids of her hair. That per.
iumc ever after brought her to my mind
more vividly than anything else could do
, seemed gifted with power to move and
. act my natural self, and l allowed no one
else to approach her that night. As We
walked home beneath the glinting light Of
, the stars, noticed that she had become
almost silent. Did my presence opprcss
and bore her? 1t was too cruel to believe
. ~ hope am not defrauding Harlowc o.
, any right YOU have given him, by thus tax
t ing possession of you,' l said, at last.
/ She looked up her eyes smiled.
If I had given him right, you coulc
mol defraud him Of it,, she said.
, "Then it is not his presence that you re
sret,' l said, feeling my soul in my eyes al
spoke. "You arc lonely, k6mcsck, per
, hal,s, for the warm land OF your birth. Dc
you find cold hearts in this cold cline o
ours?'
"Thc hearts are warm, l believe, MIR
5 Lyons; but sometimes it seems as though
, were transported into some frozen region
, some place where there is nothing akin tt
me, and l shivcr with undetinable fear
That is foolish, / know"
/ We had reached the gate where | mus
leave her. | retained the hand in close
clasp.
"Oh, do not say there is nothing akin tt
. Won here. That leaves me III the land o
strangers; cannot bear that.
The earnc stness with which spoke call
ed color to her cheeks that had 50 latel,
, palcd.
Rccall that sentence" pleaded.
"IJo YOU really wish il?' she asked.