The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1866-1891, 1886-07-08

hunted at Its cause. Dear old 1elloW, Ol
course he had loved her then, and Of
course he loved her now.
Uncle Jabez's distracting gossip could
be easily explained. To think otherwise
was absurd
"Jehu! I was satisfied 1 heerd some
thing smash" cried that simple individ-
ual, pushing the door ajar with his moe
casined toe, and shuffiing in, his arms full
of wood "There, there, ma'am, l
wouldn't take on so about the clancy.
Your husband won't feel getting you q
new sugar dish, bein' he's in the crockery
line"
"It breaks the set, you see," equlvo-
Gated the proud little matron, humorlng
his conceit. Better pass for ninny than
q jealous wife.
'"We all have our pesters," philoso-
phized Uncle Jabez, placing the sticks
in the wood-box with fond deliberation.
"Now you know how twas at my house
last spring My wife was sick, and l
had narrer squeak to get along; but
now my wife's dead, and I'm out OF debt,
and I thank the Lord! Hullo! here's
Lunt's team"
The entering grocer nodded affably to
Mrs. Gerrish as he dropped his parcels
upon the table. 'Warm morning,
ma'am. Shower brewing. Mr.. Gerrish
to be gone long?"
"Only till noon. He has run up to Bos-
ton."
"Oh, supposed he was going further.
Noticed he carried a valise, and got
checks for New York"
"Guess he was seein' to jimmy Eb-
bits traps" volunteered Uncle Jabez,
following the grocer out to beg ride.
she's started for New York. They're
tinkerin' the meetin' house, and she's free
to run off,"
"And to stay off, for all of me, NUT
tered the little matron, sweeping up the
scattered sawdust with a spiteful firt of
her broom. "Why didn't Warren tell
me she was going2 He's amazingly coy
about speaking of his old love"
Old love in more senses than one.
Miss Ebbitt was thirty at least, for all
she would persist in dressing as youth
fully as herself-ninetecn this very day!
What ravishing bonnets the coquette did
wear, and " nat airs she did put on in the
choir, where she always sat next to Mr..
Gerrish! Often whispering to him too.
Was it necessary for organist and choris-
ter everlastingly to confer with each
other? In that case, aggrieved Mrs.
Gerrish wished that she might be the
organist herself. With little more
practice in the nse of pedals, she was
sure she could play as we'll Miss Ebbitt.
at all events, she could have played as
we'll before she left her fathers home and
the dear piano. Warren had praised her
execution in those days. He needn't
trouble himself to praise it again, If
Jenny Ebbitt was "everything to him."
What else had he to say to Miss Jenny
that day. Had she been in Uncle Jabez's
place, Mrs. Gerrish felt sure she should
have heard every word, had her husband
whispered never so softly. Was he at the
present moment holding Miss Jenny's
shawl about her ii The cars, as he had
held it in the carriage! Didn't the woman
possess shawl-pinl
Ten o'clock, and the dishes unwashcd
The belated little housckceper barred her
dimpled arms and made feint of haste;
but the stroke of eleven found her hands
still in soapsuds, and her thoughts in
Boston. Warren called Miss Ebbitt o
superior woman. Pity he hadn't married
her!
Twelve o'clock! Well, by this time
he had doubtless seen Miss Jenny off to
New York, and he must be on the train
for home. She would put the pudding
at.s!ls n 70 eake; rue.usuar hour 81 dining, the
pudding was dough, and the lamb not
half roasted. What allied the oven7 For
once in his life her husband would have
to wait for his dinner. Mrs. Gerrish said
to herself that she didn't care. He had
been partaking of IN intellectual feast
with Miss Jenny; he must make that do.
But when at two o'clock the dinner was
smoking in the warming oven, she
chafcd at his non-appearance. Why
shosld he delay on this of all days, while
the heavens bewailed furious tempest?
He knew her dread of lightning. He
had never before neglected her so
cruelty. What if--absurd fancy-$hat
if he had really gone on a journey, as
the grocer had supposed! Gliding her
self for the thought, she rushed up
stairs to prove its fallacy. Through
gathering gloom she glided straight to
her husbands closet, suggestively open.
Where was the valise that had stood in
one corner? Where indeed2 The space
it had filled Knocked her with it's blank
ness. A new suit fresh from the tailor's
had also vanishea-yes, and the bank
book! In PHYS name, why had her hus
band needed that2 Had he gone on to
New York with Miss Ebbitt1 Transfxed
with horror at the suspicion, the miser-
able young wife glared at the dismantled
wardrobe till reused to physical fear by
terrific thunder-bolt. Then, half
frenzied, she lighted the lamp, drew the
shutters, and flung herself on the bed.
| In the grasp of that memorable tempest
the cottage trembled like living thing,
and the ground shook as with an earth
quake. Older and braver women than
Mrs. Gerrish shuddered that day, and she,
poor fasting soul, was all alone, and bat
ting with her first angui h. Oh, the cru
city of it Gradually the storm subsidized.
She grew calmcr. Spent with excite
ment, she may have drowsed. Suddenly
she started up in a prnic. The clock
was striking five. The September night
was shutting down upon her. She could
not confront it unattended; but, on the
other hand, how could she proclaim her
descrtion to the neiphbors? Could she
ever tell living mortal of the tress OF
hair hidden among her husbands old
letters-a snaky curl just the shade of