Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1878-09-18


spreading branches, was laden with fruit
even TO the topmost bough-great balls Of
green and gold, that were slowly reddening
in the sunshine.
Hard as Rock Dunder," said my com
panion, making slight indention upon one
Of them with his thumb. "They will not
be fully ripe in fortnight" lu.a'f
"Cousin Hiram said I, suddenly, while
my heart seemed to spring TO my throat;
"Cousin Hiram, do you know that Hope
loves Willard Remington ?"
| was frightened before the words had
fairly passed my lips. / had broached,
well knew, tabooed subject. People were
not in the habit Of talking to Hiram Gardner
about the Remngtons. ventured one
glance at his face. 1t was stern and dark,
and his breath came in quick, labored gasps.
Presently Ne turned on his heel, and was
about TO leave me. But, having put my
hand to the plow, it was not my nature to
box back. | ran after him aud repeated
my question.
"Pshaw he said, tossing an apple into
the air with the toe of his boot. That's
all over long ago. There was some nonsense
or other between them when they were mere
children, believe"
You believe Do you not kno,o, Cousin
Hiram, that Hope loves him to-day ?"
"Well, what is to be done about it What
If she does ?" he asked, turning upon me
like lion at bay. Do you suppose can
ever humble myself enough to give my
laughter TO that mans son I'll see her die
first But there's no danger; girls don't die
of broken heart, except in novels"
DO not be too confident, Cousin Hiram"
| said. Can you not see that she is dying
do not say that you will be compelled to
lay her under the sod this year or next.
Something will be left, probably, that will
move about your house in pale, still way;
something that will work, and speak some
times, and-suffer; something with sad,
weary eyes, and an air of hopeless patience.
But your Hope, your bright, joyous, loving
child, your sunbeam, your song-bird, will be
dead-dead as her brothers and sisters in
the graveyard yonder !"
He shvered from head to foot that soft,
balmy summer night, and his mouth worked
in sudden spasm of pain. But went on
pitilessly:
" 1t is killing her mother, too; can you
not see it Can you not see how her eyes
follow Hope, how she grieves over her, how
ner own cheeks pale whenever Hopes grow
white, how"
"Stop !" he cried. Do you think am
blind, Winifred, or fool ? Do you think
have no eyes Do you think ! am in this
position from mere wilfulness But women
never can look at things from mans stand
point. How can | help myself | don't
want to mar Hopes life. | don't want to
make her wretched; yet what can be done
can't undo the work of the last seven years,
and can't let Hope marry the son of the
only man on earth, | verify believe, who
hates me-and whom | hate. That's the
char af Wa'r in
bad fix, hut it can't be helped"
=" But you don't hate Willard 7"
"No-I like him. He's fine, manly
young fellow, sure to make his mark in the
world, if he is a Remington. | have no
fault to find with him."
"Then, oh, Cousin Hiram" | began.
But he interrupted me, laying heavy hand
upon my arm.
"Theres no use talking, Winifred You
can tell Inc nothing that do not know al
ready. ! am as sorry for all this as you can
| be. Is not Hope my own child But | am a
man, and cannot go back on my own rec
ord. | never shall consent to this marriage,
unless some voice speaks 10 me out of a
cloud and says Do it. ,"
A sudden thought struck me as glanced
up at the laden boughs of the apple-tree.
"Then if miracle were wrought in their
favor, your pride might be persuaded to
yield ~ said, doubtless with little tinge
| of bitterness.
He answered augrily:
when a sign is sent to me direct from
heaven, I'll give Hope to Willard Reming-
ton, but not before"
| sat up late that night, but early the next
morning, when the gray dawn was just
Frightening in the east, stole softly past
Hopes door, down the stairs, that creaked
perversely despite all my caution, opened
the hall door as silently as dream, and flew
down the garden path and over the wall
into the orchard.
For some days things went on from bad to
worse. One evening Hope threw a light
cloud over her head, and wandered off
toward the little clump of hemlocks down
by the falls. knew we'll enough where she
was going, and what she was going for.
Probably her father knew also. But, if so,
he did not interfere. He could trust her.
was in the hall when she came in. Her
face was white as marble, and Just as set and
cold. Her eyes were fearless, but heavy
and blood.shot. She went up to her room
and went to mine. She had never spoken
to me of Willard Remington since that Sun
day at church, and | respected her silence.
The next day at the post-ofiice heard that
: he had gone back to his Western life.
This was Tuesday. The next Thursday
we were all out in the porch, when neigh
Dor, who was going by, stopped for chat
leaning with both arms upon the gate.
By-the-by," he said "have you heard
! of the accident on the New York Central
Cars ran off bridge into fifteen feet Of
water, and a third of the passengers were
: killed Willard Remington was on board
and they say is among the missing"
e Hope raised one hand to her head, with 8
= faint scream, and fell to the floor as if bal
T had pierced her heart.
+ We carried her into the house aud laid hel
Il upon the bed in her mothers room. 1t wa
an hour before she gave signs of returning
!, consciousness Then, when the pale lips be
!, gan to quiver little, and there was sligh
d tremulous motion OF the eyelids, CousiI
$ Rhoda said, in hushed voice
= "Go away now, both of you. When sh'
comes to she will want to see no face but he
mothers. Hiram Gardner, if your pride ha
= killed our child, may God forgive you !"
r, We went out of the back door, and fol
e lowed the little foot-path that led to the or
d chard, till we stood under the tree with th
e spreading branches and golden fruit. tool
long stick from the ground and pointed i
e to great crimson apple that swung iron
the nearest bough, yet far above our heads
P, There, in letters of pale green upon rub.
'r ground, were the words, "Willard"-"Hope.
% lie started violently. my God Wini
n fred, what does that mean ?" And the man
L. lips were white as ashes.
Or alt means, answered, perhaps with lip
N as colorless as his, for the very depths of IN
being were stirred-"it it means that if Wi
is lard is alive he belongs to Hope, and yo
have no right to keep them apart"
le For full five minutes he stood beside m
ID with his face buried in his hands. Then h
looked up, with a faint smile playing abou
ID his resoute lips.
"There is some hocus-pocus about thii
Winifred. We don't have miracles in tn
lie nineteenth century. However, | accept tn
omen. am going over to Mr. Remington
I'd to ask if Willard was on the train, or if h
Id has been heard from. Don't touch that appl'
An hour afterward Cousin Hiram cam
;" home and walked straight through the si
ting room into the bedroom where Hope sti
III lay with closed eyes, speechless, motionless--
n white statue that scarcely breathed. lie ben
lg down aud kissed her lips.
)y 81 have been over to Mr., Remington
IN Hope" he said. "Wilard has Just tel
I'd graphed. He was not on the train Ope
: your eyes, my child, and look at me. | war
IN you to send this apple to Willard, and te
re him it means that you belong to him, an
0 he to you"
K She Just kissed him that was all.