Custer chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, Black Hills, D.T. [S.D.]) 1880-1890, 1886-03-13
KINDER Than WORDS
CAN TELL,
Or
A SISTERS SACRIFICE,
by
VARY CECIL HAY.
GcoNcLUED.l
MARY CECIL HAY.
(cONCLUED.l

She had stopped at that very spot
upon the cliffs where Walter Clive's
horse had loaped over Lena, and as
she thought these dreary thoughts, she
leaned her elbow upon the little stone
wall, and looked far out to sea, with
eyes so bright and wide that it seemed
as il the relief of tears could never
visit them. at must have a place no
longer in my heart" she moaned to
herself. 81 will bury it here in the
dismal sea forever; if l can't l can
tear it from my heart!"
For q long time tho silent figure
stood there in the anne despairing at
titude, seeing nothing but the mist OF
the cold, gray sea; feeling nothing
save tho cold, gray mist that was
wrapped about her heart. AT last there
came a quiet step behind which she
did not hear, and in a moment the
figure she was tearing from her heart
- the figure she would bury in the
misty sea-was opposite her, waiting,
waiting, without a word, his flashing
hazel eye s full CT unspoken thoughts.
She clasped her cold hands together
on the wall, still in her leaning atti-
tude; then, in a low, wondering voice,
sho spoke: 'Will you not speak to
me? Will you forgive meP"
He opened his arms, his face chang
ing.
"Does it pain you nowp Does it
grievo you now, my best belovedp"
She bent her face upon his arm sob
bling; but he knew what comfort such
tears gave her, and what the hope
lessness must have been before. He
did not speak nor move until her sobs
were over; then he said, very low:
ut there rest foryou hereP"
She looked up, the large loving eyes
telling their own tale.
do you forgive me? Can you love
me stillp"
just as l loved you before-just as
I must love you ever. / could not say
more. for could not love you more"
"And-you. forgive meP"
"For what, my sweetp"
~'For-not telling you l loved you"
<tNo, l have not forgiven that" said
Walter. with a glad laugh, ''but l
shall. il you tell me now"
lido love you"
ITO whom are you speaking,
~Georgiep" he asked, low and softly.
ITO you," she said, looking up at
him, shyly and humbly, but ner old
spirit rose in the delight of seeing his
face again. ITO whom else in all the
world do you think l could say thatP"
"But have i no name for your"
Yes. Captain Give, of course you
have u name for NO."
"Miss Georgiana Golburn, / stand
corrected" said Walter, with a stately
bow. while his eyes were full of merri-
ment.
Il am not sure that l know another
NAME" said Georgia, laughing, too, a
llttle. us III alter!
Eyes. sweet. Now what will you
say to mep"
What ought to sayp l have said
everything"
:'Tell me anything you like, only
call me Walter"
II will be true to you till death, and
should have been, ever il you had not
cone, Walter"
He bent his face to hers, and in u
voice of inexpressible love and tender
ness, no murmured:
each other! All! Georgia, what shall
1 do to show my gratitudeP"
CHAPTER TX.
The bells were pealing jubilantly
from the tall white steepie of st.
Simon's on the Hill, in the county of
Essex, and a crowd poured through
the high-arched doorway, down the
pretty churchyard, and out into the
road. There they clustered, talk
ing together eagerly, for this day OF
the reopening OF their church-what
had been their dilapidated, tumble,
down old church-was a grand day
not for the village only, but for all the
country round. There was a move
ment among them presently, as the
last group came through the church
yard gate. There they are. to us ia
miliar faces, all of them. Most Of all
familiar the two orphan sisters, whose
first work of loving thankfulness was
the identifying of the old church. This
living. lasting memorial they had
raised to the memory OF ihoso they
loved.
They paused at almost every step in
the crowd, greeting and questioning,
with that strange, subtle power of
giving and exacting sympathy which
is never lost upon the poor. What
glad words and pleasant smiles met
them! And il the clercyman's wife
came first in their thoughts, and they
looked more tenderly upon the fair
little girl who was their true conf
dante, their gentle helper, the smiles
were merrier, and the hearts lighter,
as they answered Georges quaint, gay
questions. and laughed W her funny
method of giving help and sound adj
vice. while she simply seemed to be
promulgating new and bewildering
ideas.
I'M