Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1882-02-23
Au 0rigiual Storg.
Written for the Yorkville Enquirer.
THE HOUSE ON THE HILL.
BY HERBERT JOHNSON.
CHAPTER X.

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CHAPTER X.
Another cherries winter dragged itself
along. Again spring returned, and In It's turn
gave place to summer. Itwas June. Already
more than twelve-month had elapsed since
the ill-starred vessel, which bore the freight OF
Sophy,s most precious hopes, had gone to the
bottom of the sea.
We find Sophy now engaged in new occu-
pation-that of painting ornamental flowers
and birds for a manufacturer of fancy articles
in New England town. 1t had become ne
cessary for her to obtain some remuneratlve
EMPLOYMENT, in order to exc out their slender
means. Teaching had proved to be impractic-
able, and having really a fine taste for drawing
and coloring, which Mr.. Erskine's Instructions
had very successfully developed, she found this
the easiest and pleasantest work which could
have been chosen for her. 1t was through MI.
Erskine's instrumentality that she obtained 1t.
Indeed. the latter had made it worth the while
of her employer to give her regular work, and
also to pay her very fair salary for the same.
1t is probable that had the employment come
to her through a different channel 1t would
have proved less profitable than it did in the
present case but with the good offices OF so
interested a medium to ensure it success, she
found it all that she could desire. The regu-
lar occupation was good for her, inasmuch as
it compelled her, in a measure, to give up that
indulgence of her own thoughts to which she
had formerly continually yielded; while at the
same time, it did not prevent her from attend
ing to her mother, in whose room, whenever
the latter was not able to come into the par
lor, she carried on her pretty work.
Mrs. Nays health continued delicate. In
deed, sometimes she would appear much worse,
and poor Sophy would be weighed down by the
dread that fatal termination of her illness
was near at hand. Then again she would rally,
and regain some degree of strength. 1t seemed
impossible to determine what would be the re-
suit but, at any rate, she required unvarylng
care and attention, and her condition remained
a constant weight upon her daughters mind
Although Sophy was not actually overwork-
ed, yet mingled anxiety and application to her
sedentary employment, could not but show
their effects upon her, and Mr. Erskine was
tormented by the apprehension that her health,
too, might break down under the pressure
All this time he had not ventured to breathe a
word, or hint to her of his love. He could not
forget the conversation she had once had with
him in regard to her lost lover, and he feared
that rash betrayal of his feelings would only
inspire her with dislike or miStrust towards
him. She had never, except on that one occa-
sion, mentioned Harry's name in his presence;
but he had no reason to guess, from her man
ner, that her sentiments were in any way
changed. Nor would he have wished to see
her heartlessly forgetful of the brave, bright
boy, who had been the object of her tenderest
affections, for such indifference would have
proved her less worthy of esteem. But he did
long for the time when the wound should heal,
and sometimes an irrepressble, bitter feeling
of jealousy of the fondly-remembered past
would rankle in his heart.
There came time when Mrs. May grew Wis
IDLY worse, and in unspeakable anxiety her
daughter lowered around her pillow, putting
aside everything, in order to be able to devote
her whole attention to her. These attacks,
chiefly nervous ones, came upon her sometimes,
but had become less frequent of late, and it
was so long since any had occurred that Sophy
had ceased to watch for them. The present
one, however, proved unusually severe, and
for two days and nights her daughter never
left her side.
The mental strain, consequent upon spell
of this sort of nursing was excessive, and by
the time that she could relaxher vigilance and
seek little rest, Sophy felt completely worn
out. She had been obliged to employa woman
from the village, to assist her, and leaving this
person in charge of her mother, she went, on
the first afternoon that she felt justified in
quitting the sick room, to breathe little fresh
air in the shrubbery. Sitting OH rustic bench,
beneath the wide-spreading boughs of vigor-
GUS old oak, she leaned her head back against
the rugged trunk, which offered her friendly
support, and closing her eyes, foated off into
a melancholy reverie. This had been Harry's
favorite spot in the old garden. His own
hands had constructed the bench on which she
was resting, and they had often sat there side
by side, and discussed their hopes and plans
On the bark of the oak. he had once, with his
pen-knife, cut his initials and hers The let
tiers still stood in bold relief, just above hel
head. She remembered the very day he had
carved them there, and the conversation that
had passed between them at the time, anC
could recall his handsome figure, with the
bright. boysh face, and curly head thrown
back, as he called her to come and admire hi:
work.
''See, Sophy, when I'm man and am away
at sea, these letters will put you in mind O
me, and tell you never to forget me. I've pu
the H. F. and the S. NJ as close together "a
l could, because, you know, though our live
may be sometimes apart, still our hearts neve
can, and these letters are emblems of our hearts
I would have made them into cipher, only
didn't know how.'
Il can remember you without looking at tht
letters, Harry" she had answered. ''Ther
will be plenty to remind me of you, beside
those though, indeed, shall neverneed any
thing to recall you to my mind, if we shoult
have to part"
1t needed nothing, indeed, to recall to he
those happy days, when care and anxiety hae
been unknown to her, and life had been like
fairy dream. Looking back through the visit
of but two fieeting years, she saw herself agail
walking beneath the shady trees, by Harry