Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1880-01-02

whore he was except for the vague rumoi
that spoke Of him as sheep raising some
where in the Carolinas. II she had, having
sent him off in her prosperity she could mol
call him back in her calamity. So she braCeC
! herself TO bear her trials as she might and tC
bear them, as she sometimes said to herself
in a way Will would have approved and she
| laughed bitterly at herself to think OF the
sentimental idiot she had been, and OF the in.
nocent young Italian on whom she had
| poured out the burden of her vain fancies
and her clear, dark cheeks Redeemed reddei
than their wont at thought of the light in
| which the clear headed Will must have held
her infatuation.
Betty's cheeks though had never lost their
! carnation she was no older than before so
| far as her beauty was concerned only into
the radiant face there had stolen new eX-
| preston, perhaps called out by the necessity
Of so much tenderness to her sick father, and
disconsolate mother, perhaps by the longing
for once neglected presence, the hope,
growing more patient, that it might yet re-
turn-the sense, growing daily more humble,
that nothing had befallen her but what she
sadly deserved.
And then the long war broke out, and in
all its course no word Of Will She thought
he might be in il. She was sure his blood
must be stirred She looked for his name in
the bulletins, in the promoted, in the dead
and missing in the discharged, in the for
lorn hopes she longed to do something for
him-now that it was impossible-to encour-
age him, TO help him. If she could only once
find his name. She never did. And when
at last peace was declared, there came through
the obscure channels in which all such news
runs, not to be verified, and too authentic
for disbelief, the report that he had been a
conscript of the Confederates, had fallen in
his first battle, and had died in hospital.
And her act had killed him Betty Viii
marth sat down that day in despair. For
what had she been born, when, out OF her in
significance, she had wrought such evil as
this A murderess-that was what she was
The murdereBs, too, of the best friend a
woman ever had by whim, mere whim,
she had brought strong man down to his
grave. BY whim No, oh no by the
blacknoss of her heart And it was in sack
cloth and ashes that she sat while summer
and autumn crept by. She loathed herself.
She felt that even God must loathe her :;
every one must loathe her that knew her AZ
Will Maunders murder ss The earth was
dark for her the sun ceased TO shine the
faces Of all she saw were blanks; they seem
ed to belong to people of another race there
was nobody of her race-a woman with the
blood of her best friend on her hands Day
after day gloom seemed TO gather thicker
and darker over the world II was a place of
graves all those who went by were born on
ly to suffer and die, and after death the judg-
mentl
And then, her thoughts getting too much
for her Betty would start up and walk for
miles to walk of the horror that oppressed
her, the horror that made life seem not worth
living that made life seem impossible to
live, aud yet did not let her dare to die.
Nothing was any pleasure to Betty now.
Her fathers affairs had frightened; they had
retaken their old house her mothers health
was restored the girls had come home from
school content and happy, and ready to take
Betty's scepter where she dropped it. But
she was pleased for their sake-for herself it
made no difference. The color had forsaken
her sweet cheeks at length her eyes were
dim with her long crying she sat for hours
together staring straight before her con-
scious of nothing whatever but that she had
been the death of Will Maunder
How she missed him now at every turn
the ready smile, the tender word, the help
ing deed, the admiring look, the persuasion
that she could do nothing wrong! II he
were only here in her trouble, be would clear
it all away as the strong west wind blows the
clouds. But no she would be having no
trouble If she had not sent Will out of reach
she would see him again neither here nor
hereafter, for the place where Will Maunder
went with his white soul would be no place
for his muTderess. How strong he was in
those dead and gone days how generous,
how brave and true and all for her it might
have been. And she had been blind till the
need Of his 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
remembered that it was heaping his unknown
grave the cold terror Of it chilled her mar
row All 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 plying faces down stairs that she re-
solved 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 table they could spread
and lent them her dainty ornaments that she
used to value so, and that now, at %, she
WAS done with
1t was a great, white snow storm, though
"a fierce, driving, drifting. snow storm
that wrapped heaven aud earth and sky when
that day dawned, beginning the eventful
year, They would be friends indeed who
ventured through it. The girls and their
chosen companions, nevertheless, were Just
as gay in the parlOrs as they could have been
in the sunniest weather. imagining arrivals,
and when nobody arrived, receiving each 9TH
er in turn, az if there was procession of
callers at the door. They were none of them
so sweet, so wilful, so charming, as poor lit
tie 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 misery
She sat in the little spider parlor off the 9th
ers, staring through the window with her
wild and wretehed gaze, though for appear
auces book lay open in her lap. Her
thoughts had gone upon their flight; and, af-
ter 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 Of doors. The joyousness of the
day, like sunshine breaking through storm,
was nothing to her; she noted none of the
fragrance of the flowers, 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 60
if he were in the breathing world She
louged for him back with fresh longing to
take the stain and burden off from her and
then she lOnged for him back that he might
just put his arms around her and take her,
that she might rest in his presence Why
had she never loved him until he was lost?
And now he would never know it. "Oh,
Will, VIII. Win !" she cried-and cried half
aloud, all unaware. If you only forgave
me" And there the words were stayed by
a pair of bearded lips the arms that she had
wearied for were about her, her head was
pillowed on breast (-) Did the dead
walks Did the grave surrender, then He
had come from heaven to take, to forgive
her. Was it Will-with her father, with her
sister, Had he never died at all but gone
back from the hospital to a sheep farm, and