Dodge City times. [volume] (Dodge City, Kan.) 1876-1892, 1879-04-05

dignantly-"tOrg1ve her! what you
talkin' about, Ellie? Why, Hannah
Merrick never did any harm to you, nor
nobody else, as l ever hearn tell.
'Twould be more nat'ral she should for
give you, for not settin' more store by
her than you ever did. l reckon the
Lords forgiveness was all she ever
needed"
"Yes, father" said Drusilla, "Han-
nah and l always got along well
enough"
Capt. 'Lank limped into the house
with his CLAIMS, and Drusilla-
a moment to tell her mother how she
had left their neighbors in their bereave-
ment-went to her own room.
She sat down By the window, which
overlooked the wide, beautiful bay, but
her thoughts were not of the world
about her. She wanted to recall all
that Hannah had said to her the night
before, and to dwell joyfully on the
thought that Burton Allen was not false
and tickle, as he had seemed.
This time last night, when it was
growing dark, and the storm coming
on, Uncle John Merrick came in.
Hannah's very poorly tonight" he
said, after the usual remarks on the
weather, to Capt. 'Lank-" her mother
thinks she won't last the night out.
She's got a notion to see you, Zillie, and
no doubt must come over after ye.
Susan Lane offered to set up, but Han
nah's uneasy to see you, an SO I've
come, though faint tit for you to go
out, know"
"Oh, she'll go, of course" said Mrs.
Ward-and Drusilla made herself ready,
and vent through the storm and dark
ness to her vigil by her dying school
mate.
She found Hannah, as her father had
said. every poorly" but anxious
strangely so, she thought (for they had
never been intimate friends) to see her.
Satisfied with Drusilla's presence, Han
nah fell asleep, and the household soon
retired. Drusilla, left alone, wondered
why Hannah wanted her tonight instead
of Susan.
1t was lonely sitting there, in the dim
light, with only her own thoughts, and
not cheerful ones, for company-and to
listen to the surf, laundering on the
beach, and the wind whistliug and beat
ing so furiously against the house; and
she was glad when Hannah woke and
called her. "Zillie," she said, cliff me
up on the pillow, l want to tell you
something. l mustn't die till I've told
you. Will you forgive me?" and she
looked at Drusilla, with great imploring
eyes. "Why, Hannah, I've nothing to
forgive you," she said, as she raised the
slight form to more comfortable posi-
ton. "Don't say that, Zillie, you don't
know-but hope and pray it isn't too
late to undo the harm, and Zillie, make
him forgive me, too, won't you?
Promise"
Drusilla thought her delirious, and said
gently, "Don't talk, Hannah, it tires
you so; some other time you can tell
me-" A paroxysm of coughing seized
the sick girl, but when she had recov-
cred strength to speak, she said, "No,
Zillie Ward, must tell you now. Don't
you know, I'm going to die? was
afraid you wouldn't come and it would
be too late. It's about-about-Burton
Allen. l did it, Ellie. Will you say
now. you forgive me?" "Yes, Hannah,
but don't understand; what did you
doP" "Hear the waves roar, Zillie,
I've been afraid nights when it blew so.
They sound so awful-like an angry
voice-and always say, tell Zellie, tell
Zellie, and when l thought couldn't,
they said-oh, such awful words--I can
not bear TO think land she covered
down in the pillow. Drusilla knelt
beside the bed, striving in vain to quiet
her own agitation, anxious now to
hear Hannah's story, and yet afraid to
have her talk. 81 sent Burt that letter,
Zillie," Hannah continued, family
"What letter do you mean, Han
nah?" "The letter that made him go
away. Didn't you know? What did
you think it WASP" Zillie only shook