The Ohio Democrat. (Logan, O. [Ohio]) 1886-1906, 1888-08-25

tne VanuerpOOls nau lUuer1teu Inc wealth
aud high standing OF many generationsi Or
was It because she elected to bear her
poverty and disgrace alonel She flushed
now as she recognized him.
"One minute" he said.
mot now. can not watt" she insisted,
and he stepped back without word.
What could he wish to see her fort She
remembered what he had said that time.
''1f you were rich and honored should have
been too proud to address you" She had
resented the speech then. Recalling II now
she could not help admitting that 1t did
honor to John Ashton. She was thinking
OF John Ashton the boy, the little ragged
fellow who used to do chores about her
fathers house, picking up an education at
the public schools, devoting himself to her
service on holidays. John Ashton the man
was separate entity, and she had never
trusted herself to analyze her impressions
Of him. He was liked and trusted by all
men, and very probably admired by women
She knew his errand to the place. He was
q celebrated engineer now, and had come
down to take charge of a great project for
reclaiming the tide-lands. People called the
enterprise "the march Of Improvement
but Miss vanderpool hated the march of
improvement and did not care for benefits
to commerce, but liked best the wide stretch
of salt marshes with their rusty vegetation,
their black pools and fitting fogs. She
was coming to them now, for her path lay
along their border, and soon she was
beside them, and drew long breath in-
haling the fresh ocean air with its briny
smell She looked out to sea, where lumi-
nous glow along the horizon commemorated
the going down of the sum- and sullen
clouds above presaged the gathering Of q
storm. She hoped, with a feeling Of pity
new to her, that it might be clear for an
hour or two on the morrow, that the burial
of the little child might not be made drear-
Ter by .clouded skies and driving rain.
Not far away on the marsh, surrounded by
broad pools which reflected the distant glow
in the sky, she saw the tall chimney Of q
steam derrick and low, barge-like shape
that seemed to be anchored in the mud.
She did not give herself much time to specu-
late now. Night was fast falling, and a
little ahead she saw the tiny brook she
sought. But think moment! Was it the
right placel She hesitated for an instant in
doubt and perplexity, then looked quickly
about to determine her bearings by some
familiar landmarks. There on the bluff
were the square outlines of her old home,
just visible against the sky, and there, off to
the right far beyond, were the harbor lights.
Just little further on, then sharp turn to
the left, a climb UP the rocks to the little
bench that lay between the bluffs and shore,
and she should find the flowers. She pressed
hurriedly on to gain the place before it
should be wholly dark. She knew way up
the bluffs, steep and winding path, by
which she could gain the lighted upper
street whom she was done. If only she
could ence find the flowers, the dewy,
spring flowers, with their faint, sweet odor
and their fresh sheltering leavesl All
worldly thoughts seemed to fall away from
her, the weight of disappointment and care
was lifted from her heart, and she felt like
an eager child, bent on her innocent quest.
But what was this-the solid ground CIV
ing way beneath her feet, every step taking
her deeper and deeper into q bottomless
ooze her feet drawn down and held as il by
leaden weights! This was not the way it
used to be along the banks of the little
brook. In a moment the full horror Of the
flashed upon her. Deceived by the
light or rendered careless by her own wan
dering thoughts, she had strayed further
from the town than she had supposed, and
what she had mistaken for the little brook
was really an estuary Of the sea, bordered
by treacherous bogs, portion Of the great
waste of tide-land which the company were
seeking to reclaim. Quick and sharp came
other recollections. She remembered that
children had been lost there when at play.
She remembered that every now and then
some man or woman had mysteriously dis
from sight and knowledge, and 1t
had been whispered about that they had
been last seen walking along the border of
the tide-lands. But these were people Of
the lower classes about whom the Wander
pools had given themselves little concern.
She remembered now-ah, how sharply!-
that she had read with curling lip that por-
ton of the young engineers argument be-
fore the harbor commissioners, when he
was pleading for permission to go on with
his work, wherein he had advanced, as one
of his strongest pleas, that many lives
would be saved by the completion of the en-
terprise. And now she, Judith Vanderpool,
the last of her name, was about to succumb
to thiS most unheroic destiny. It was bet
ter So Sac would have chosen this very
way Of death, if she might. She had been
by one dread, over and over again,
during these years Of poverty and privations
and she gave little hysterical laugh as she
it now. II she should have
broken down and died in the midst Of her
unsuccessful struggle she had not the where
WltAdi W Duy uSt 1uu0IaA SuEOuus ANVW nO
one would know, no one would care.
o, the terror of It'll Not death. Many
were there who would know her and greet
her gladly; father, mother, brother, friends
of her childhood-the only friends she had
kept. But that last thought! To drop out
and never be missed; to leave behind her
not a human being who would care. Why
should she grieve over it now3 She had, of
her own will, separated herself from all
human interests; sho had never cared for
human companionship or love.
But, oh God! she did care. She knew IL
now. Face to face with this terrible and
lonely death she had come to q knowledge of
herself. Nursing her foolish pride and
family traditions, measuring all the world
by false standards, she had wronged herself
most of all. What was 1t that had so
touched her in the humble home she had Just
left, breaking down the barriers Of her own
reserve, drawing her on and out OF herself,
until she longed to claim some little part In
itl What was it but the glad and sacred
atmosphere OF pure family sffectiona o, her
life had been empty; empty. And the one
human love that she might have had-she
knew it now-would have made her happy
woman, she had scornfully rejected. o, II
she could only live her life over, if she could
but take up its tangled threads again with
cleared vision and humbled heart
1t was then that she sent up her first and
only cry for help Hitherto she had been
silently resigning herself to death with
oalmness and dignity betitting Vanderpool.
Now a prolonged and mournful cry went
out over the marshes, startling the seagulls,
which rose and wheeled aimlessly about
against the darkening sky. The cry was
taken up and answered far out on the
Inarahas Thara xuas n anddan GoIn rnnfior,