The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1880-01-07

she is suffering agony all the while
But for this giving up, jealousy had hat
no place within her; now she grudges
the smiles he beStows upon this other
thinking that when all is over, if she
this other, should ever stand in the
place she has destined for herself, it will
be hard, very hard, to think kindly ol
her. A little piece of holly falls from q
wreath close by. she picks it up, and
then the spirit of the season comes back
to her once again.
rhen she looks calmly on the rest.
She sees Edward Carr standing apart
gloomily watching the other two. She
wonders if he loves Julia Hammond
She thinks he must or he would not look
so, and then she pities him and hopes
that all will yet be right for him in the
end. Pauline is gone now, soon she
will be back here to find her. John is
anxious, as she can see by the way in
which he watches the door for Pauline's
return. All, well! she will be brave
she will let John see that she can give
him up, and not even expect him to
care tor her now; and after that she will
trust to Jesus to bear her on. It is
wonderful how, having made up her
mind, she forgets self; she sees now
that Julia and Edward have exchanged
siancos, that Julia reddens considerably,
and that John, noting the cause, leaves
her as though to speak to his brother.
But he encounters Pauline instead, and
together they come now Elizabeth's
way.
Her courage is fast dying out, yet
when Pauline enters, leaving John out
side by the half-closed door, she man.
ages somehow to whisper that she is
strong, and that he may come in.
She trelnbles as she holds out her
hand for him to take; she cannot speak
in answer to his greeting. though he has
called her Elizabeth, though lie seems
well-nigh beside himself with JOY at the
thought of being near her. So she but
strokes the piece of holly she holds, the
while she wonders what Pauline has
told him, for she has promised to pre-
pare him somewhat for the change
which has taken place.
Elizabeth, you do not say you are
clad to see me-do not wish me even Il
Happy Christmas" and he bends low, as
though to read the expression of her
face.
But Elizabeth draws back. Poor
Elizabeth! Il am glad" she says,
nervously, "glad to come back too and
see everybody"
Say you are glad to come back for
my sake" he urges, gently, taking her
hands in his.
Il cannot say that-you will not
wish me to by-and-bye:" she begins,
but he interrupts her.
elizabeth, do wish it. I cannot
tell how strong you are. or if ! am wise
to speak like this to you tonight, but
darling, darling, it must surely do you
good, and not harm, to know that love
you-love you 50 much, Elizabeth, that
no Christmas joy will be mine unless
have your dear love too in turn. Oh,
Elizabeth. if you only knew how pre-
cious you are to me-" and he would
have kissed her, but that she gently put
him back.
Then he knelt at her feet. Eliza
beth, Pauline has told me of Il change"
he speaks softly, as though he scarcely
cared to mention it, "but whatever
change there is will be nothing to me,
can be nothing. Oh, Elizabeth, how
could you, can you dream Of its being
aught to me? Elizabeth. you love me" :"
"Yes. But-but it must, it must be
over now. Indeed, indeed it mustm
mot if you love me-"
Suddenly Elizabeth raises her head
and looks him straight in the face, al
though it is too dark for either to dis
Germ the others features. "Very well
-but-you must ask Inc again-by-and-
bye" .
For the last time then, Elizabeth" :"
he says, and rs she complains of feeling
tired, he leaves her to herself to think
it all over.
She watches him as he pauses by Julia
Hammond. He speaks single word to
her, and she sees how glad and yet rest
less the girls face grows at the bare
sound of his face. Then she sighs for
herself. as she thinks that after tonight
all will be over for her of youth, for she
is going presently, when she has strength
sufficient for the ordeal. to 60 out among
the rest, that so he may compare her
face with theirs, and then decide for
himself. For her own part, she will see
if he at all shrink, and then she knows
well what her answer will be. And
presently she glides forth, shadow, a
wreck of her old self, as she feels and
knows; and friends who have never
dreamt Of her nearness to themselves
gather about her, the while she reads
pity and great shock upon all their
faces. But her eyes wanders off to
where John and Edward Carr stand.
To be sure, Johns face changes little,
but it is only with surprise at her sud-
den appearance; the look which remains
is that for which she has longed, that
which she had resolved not to expect,
and then-all seems blank.
Presently, she scarce knows how ii
all comes about, she finds herself outside
in the corridor with John alone, his
arm about her, rs he supports her to a
chair standing near.
She looks up inquiringly-she feels
that she may look up ut him now, and
for reply he says. THE heat was toe
much for you in tlere--you were
faint, and so I brought you here. Eliza
beth Ibis voice is strangely tender
even for lovers" your one look told
me all. I shall never ask you the ques.
ton again." and then he kissed hel
faded cheek as ardentiy and more rever
emily than as though it had been fresl
and fair as it once was. Elizabeth
could you not understand and believe
! that for the past, and risking of youl
dear life, I should but love you tht
more? If my heart was ever yours
darling, it was yours most surely then
when you watched by that dying bed
and now that you bear the holy impress
of your charity upon your dear face,
can but glory in you, in that you have
followed the steps OF One who left US al
example long ago, which exampl
you have followed"
Oh, how her eyes shine, those liquit
eyes which are still the same as ever
and unchanged. Another couple stea
out on to the corridor. Lamps ar
burning here and there amidst the fes
toons and greenery which the servant
l.-, hrnp a boy,f W chou q GhrictYna