The Penn's Grove record., 1886-05-22

mot one step until you Uell ule Whdl
passed, j." SAID the mother firmly. There's
more in all this than meets the eye"
"He asked me t0-give up talking to
Mr.. Vavasour."
"And you refused. WellP"
UsHe told me / must choose between
tbem.u continued Alison, bursting
into tears. "Oh, mother, it was all my
folly. all my temper; lie could not see
that, and when ne went away he said
he went for good"
Mrs. Reece drew in her thin lips
sternly. She was thinking.
And what does it mean about your
giving him a note for the dressmakerr
/ do not understand. You had moth
ing to write about" i,
The girl had got her hands free and
flung them before her face to deaden
the sobs, But Mrs. Reece was a reso-
lutte mother at times, and she extorted
the confession. Alison had improvised
the note and sent Thomas around the
long way to deliver it, and so keep him
from passing by the willow walk.
"Oh, child, dbl" moaned the dis.
MAYED woma. 'If he has indeed
fallen over the Scar it is you who have
given him his DEATH"
And it proved to be so. In taking
the two miles round between the cot
tage and the farm a high and perpen-
dicuIar precipice, called the Scar, had
to be passed. The lakeland, or pla-
teau on the top, was wide and perfectly
safe road by daylight, since a traveller
could keep as far from the unprotected
edge as he pleased, but OH a dark night
or in a thick fog it was most dangerous.
DscelyeI by the mist of the previous
night. Thomas Watkyn must have
drawn near the edge unwittingly and
fallen over it. There he lay, on the
sbarp rock. when the poor father and
others went to look Tor him, his DEATH
Ike face upturned toward the blue SKY.
''Speak to me, Thomas, speak to
mel" walled Alison quite beside her
lelf with remorse and grief, as she knelt
1y him, wrlnging her hands. "oh,
Thomas, speak to me! l loved you all
ne while"
But Thomas neither spoke o
moved. The voice that had nothing
out tender words was silent now; the
leart she had so grieyed might never
peat in sorrow or JOY again.
No person had seen. or spoken with
i'm after quitting her the previous
light. save the dressmaker, little in
lustrious MISS Ford. She had an.
iwered his knock herself, she related,
md he put the note into her hands,
saving, Miss Reece had asked him to
cave it in passing. what a thick mist
It is that has come on!" he remarked
o her In his pleasant chatty way. AYE,
t is indeed, sir" she answered, and
ihut her door as he walked away.
For many weeks Alison Reece lay
very ill with brain fever, lowering be-
;weeu life and death. Some people SAID
It was the shock that made her i'll and
.ook her senses away; others thought
that she must have loved the poor
goung man to distraction; no one, save
Ter mother, knew 1t was the memory
IF her last interview with him, and the
,cheming to send him on the route that
led to his accident, that had well nigh
killed her. But the young are strong
IN their tenacity of life, and she grew
better by slow degrees.
One warm April afternoon, when the
winter months had given place to
spring, Alison, leaning on the arm of
her mother, went to sit on the porch.
She was very feeble yet. 1t was the
first she had sat there since that mem
orable evening with her Inflated lover.
There she remained thinking and
dreaming. They could not persuade
her to come IN, and so wrapped her in a
shawl.
Sunset came on. and was almost as
beautiful, curious, perhaps, that it
should be so, as the one he and she had
watched together more than six months
The brilliant beams shone like
gold i'll the glowing west, the
blue sky around was fiecked with pink
and amethyst. Allson's eyes were fixed
on ,he lovely scene with an enraptured
gaze, her lips slightly parting with emo
ton.
ALLISON, what are you thinking off"
"Of him, mother. OF his happiness.
lie is living IN all that glorious beauty.
think there must have been an uncon-
scious provision in his mind by what
he SAID that evening as we watched it,
that he should soon be there. Oh,
mother, / wish L was going to himl l
wish l could be with him to- morrow."
The mother paused; she felt inclined
to say something, but she feared the
agitation it might cause
''Well, well, child. you r getting
she presently answered.
Eyes, L do get better" sighed the
girl. 81 suppose it pleased God that l
should"
Time smoothes a. things, Alison.
In time you will be strong again and
able to fulfil life's various duties with
a zest. Trials are good-oh so very
the soul. But for meeting
with them we might never learn the
way to Heaven"
Alison did not answer. Her feeble
hands were clasped in silent prayer, her
face was lifted to the glories of the
evening sky.
1t was at the same sunset hour, an
evening or two later, that Alison, who
was picking up strength daily, strolled
away to the churchyard, She wanted
to look for a newly-made grave in that
conner where 81 many of the Watkyns
buried.
She could not see it; the same grave
that were there before were
there now; there "a no fresh one.
''Perhaps they opened the old vault
for him." thought Alison, as she sat
down on a bench just inside the gate,
for she was too weak to walk back
again without a rest.
The sun was going down tonight
without any loneliness, just a crimson
ball, which seemed to give red light to
the atmosphere, and to light up really
the face of a pale, tottering man who
was coming up to the gate by the help
a stick. He halted when he reached
II. Alison turned sick and faint with
all name of emotions as she gazed at
him, fright being uppermost..
"Alisonl'
"Thomasl"
He held out his hand; he came inside;
bis pale, sad face wore for her its old,
sweet expression.
sob, Thomas, I thought you were
she burst out in a storm of
sobs. 81 came here to look for your
grave. / thought | had killed YOU"
SKTNhaU fhnnuhN 4 woa daoA OF Drcf