The Dickinson press., 1889-08-24
TOMORROW
By 1zA DUrFUs HARDY.

By 1zA DUFFUs HARDY
would have been that the interview they
interrupted was anything out of the Or
binary kind.
Lucy Williams leaned back in a low
chair, just outside the circle of yellow
lamplight, idly screening her face from
the fire with ono of tho big japanese
fans off the mantelpiece. Mr.. Beres-
ford, the handsome stranger. stood
before the log fire-the Nortons liked
good, old fashioned wood firc-push.
ing back fallen log with his foot;
he was looking down, but smile was on
his lips Us he thrust the smoldering
wood back into the CRATE
well, and l hope you've been enter
tanning this gentleman in our absence
Miss Lucyl" said tho head of the house
held, his ruddy, kindly face, beaming
with good nature-its chronic express
sion.
II have done my BEST" answered the
sweet, low, level tones that were music
in Paul Norton's car.
Miss Lucy is capital company" said
Henry Norton, who always spoke out
exactly what he thought.
Mr.. Beresford bent his head smilingly,
with a civil speech. Paul had made his
way promptly to Lucy's side and bent
over her chair, while Mr.. Norton entered
into conversation with the visitor, and
gave him information and counsel on
the subject of Higgins land-a good
deal more information than was really
at all necessary
Mrs. Norton took up her knitting;
Paul presently went to the window at
the further end of the long parlor, lifted
the lowered blind and looked out, and
remarked that the moon was rising and
the sky looked frosty addressing the re-
mark to Miss Williams. She accepted
the hint i'll her graceful way. She glidcd
across the room and looked out of the
window with Paul Norton, and listened
sweetly while he talked low voiced
about the rising moon-and other things.
MIR Beresford cast more than one
glance in her direction, while he was ap-
parently engrosscd in tho heintcresting sub
jcct of Higgins and his acres. and OBJ
served to himself:
Just the same Lydia! The old camel"
BUTT was not quite the Lydia he knew,
who stood pale in the lamplight, looking
up into Paul Nortons honest eyes, later
on that evening-so late, that it was good
night that they were saying, that they
had slipped apart from the rest to say
yet not very late to those "of the world,
worldly" for early hours were the rule
at Hazelmead; and Mr.. Beresford regard
ed the evening as only just beginning
when the Nortons looked upon it as
closed.
1t was the face of Lydia, indeed, but
not the look that Mr.. Bcresford had over
seen in Lydia's eyes, or on her lips, as she
stood by Paul Nortons side.
Tomorrow, Lucy darling" lie said,
clasping her hand as if he could never
let it go, tomorrow you will give me
my answer? | shall not sleep tonight
for longing for tomorrow! 1t is Christ.
mas eve, you know"-
She burst into laugh that almost
startled him-not a loud laugh; Lucy's
laugh was always low and soft-but with
ring of bitter mockery in it that he had
not heard from those lips beforehand did
not like to hear
"Yes. Christmas eve" she said, ''thc
season of mirth and lappiness-of peace
and goodwill to all men!"
why do you laugh. Lucy lie asked,
graspinS her hand with unconscious
force; "arc you-no! you are not playing
with me? YOU are not that kind Of
woman! But why do you speak like
that? and why put mo OFF until to-
morrow? If you have nothing but NO
to say to mo, say it now-now, this mo-
mcnt will not endure suspense, un-
Iess-unIess it means hope. Oh, forgive
me if l speak roughly to you, Lucy. l
am not worthy Of you. so delicate and
gentle a flower.'
"Do YOU think you are not worthy of
mel? she rejoined, with pale smile, and
her eyes dwclt OH his sadly. even tender
ly We'll. told you'll would talk to
you tomorrow So will. But now
good nightr'
Call ME Iy my name tonight" /" he
piSa'It' odJ 6Ood duls
"Paul!" she nurmured. and sudden.
deep convulsive sigh heaved her bosom
and caught her breath Good night,
dear Paul."
MY darling!" he exclaimed, enrap-
tured. "Oh. Lucy love, before we part
tonight, mayn't say My own?'"
"If the words please you," she an
s,,.oroH ,,.;tl, q, o,,r;,,,o .,f toL;ro p,oc+
unaccountable bitterness in her tone, yet
not shrinking from his enfolding arms.
Then, with one of those sudden revul-
sions of mood which had always charac-
terized her-and those quick turns and
transitions which were part of her fas-
cination-she softened, sighed, and her
golden head sank on his shoulder.
"Oh, Paul am tired, SO tired." she
whispered. "Let me go now; and to-
morrow
Tomorrow, dearest:"
YES, tomorrow, Paul, if you still
care, you shall call me your own!" The
words were sweet, and in their sweetness
he lost note Of the under current of Bit
terness and defiance in her tone.
ollc Cdloeu ucI idCc W tll5. liz lAteu
her hands and gently clasped them round
his own neck rs he kissed her. They
closed and cluns there-as if in him she
were clinging to peace and safety, to very
life itself! Happy Paul! He did not see
the fixed look of anguish in her eyes as
she hid her face upon his shoulder; he
believed that embrace was the dawn of a
life long day of love.
The long winters night wore away;
and all the Nortons slept the deep and
drcamless sleep of sound health and easy
conscience; and Christmas eve morning
came-a white azure morning Of silvery
frost and cold clear sunshine.
"Merry Christmas!" shouted Tommy,
rushing down stairs late to breakfast
ood a. <1,o hroo lrfocf roor, loov