The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1889-02-23
FEBRUARY q, 1889.

There at the gate stood Malcolm.
Il heard your footsteps ever so far off, =
he said smiling. II am ike the bats
fond of the cleaning, you see, he added,
turning to me with soft laugh, sit suits
my eyes"
Then we all three went in together; but
he took my arm this once, because was
going in the morning. So the long, white
hand with its blood-red ring, lay against
my sleeve, and somehow on my long jour
ney next day the meaning of it haunted me.
After all we are very like straws or fall
len leaves on a river-drifted here and
there by the wind and stream of circum-
stances.
1 wrote to my good friends at Orchard
Farm; they, or rather Margaret, wrote to
me- The influence of her pure, sweet
nature left me not, showing itself in deeper
earnestness of life, in higher aim of life.
We even planned-in writing another
holiday for me ''among the lavender
when the Summer should come again.
And then family affairs of my own took
me abroad | travelled far. and from
place to place. Ny name and fame as a
writer were growing everywhere. l had
warm welcome; and so came Spring and
grew to Summer, and Summer ripened to
Autumn, an paled again to Winter, and
still | was a wanderer. But with Sum-
mer, like the swallows, l came back to
England-to the hum and stir and dear
delightful sense of life that only London
gives one.
My sister was at my rooms to greet me,
and had all things fair and sweet set out to
welcome me.
Il am 50 glad you like the lavender,
dear, she said II bought it of poor,
tired looking girl in the street to-day. |
bought all she had.
There it stood, miniature grove of
blue gray spears, set in a wide china bowl,
and its faint, pungent scent filed all the
room.
"Why, Stevie," said my sister, suddenly,
show strange you look After all, per-
haps you don't ike the smell of lavender p
did not answer.
was sitting before pile of letters,
proofs-what not ?-all waiting to be
opened; and there, among the rest, | saw a
small. square parcel ike box, directed to
me in a dear, familiar hand 1t had been
registered, and the date of the stamp was
that of three months back. l cut the
string. My fingers trembled The per
fume Of the lavender had taken my
thoughts back to Orchard Farm; and now,
what was this little packet that perehanee
smelled of lavender too?
opened it--almost dropped it-uttered
an exclamation under my breath--fell as
though some cold hand touched my
heart
Before me lay a ring with one blood red
stone; beneath it scrap of paper written
there these words
Il send you this in memory Of him
r."
Not another word.
The next evening, just at shutdown,
reached Orchard Farm.
The lavender was all abloom by the gate,
the easement set wide, as it was won't to
be.
Bat my heart felt like lead in nay
bosom, for strange dog barked wildly at
me as | lifted the latch, and gruff voice
asked me what l wanted, while dreadful
looking old croue came hobbling to the
door in answer to py knock.
Which of us has not known the agony
Of visiting some dear loved spot 20 find all
its surroundings changed to discord
Bad as l had imagined things might be,
the reality exceeded my worst forebodings.
awhat may be your business ?" said the
bag. whose rusty bonnet sat on end on her
shaggy head.
"Has Mrs, Rnthven left the Farm ?" |
said, in as steady voice as | could COM
mand. aHer husband-died' chow the
words seemed to choke me,) ''but-can you
tell me where she-what has"
Here my eloquence came to an end.
aOh. yes" chimed in the old woman, in
ouerulo1s voice, cher good gentleman
died. Ihelped to clean up after the funeral
He was sick long while, and they had
doctor from Luunon, But it weren't no
good, bless you! He just went off and
knowed nobody for days aud days, and she
a-standin by him, dumb like, strokin' OF
his and.
ayes. yes, said; ''but after that-what
of her-what of his wife ?"
"Oh, she was never much to reckon on
she wasn't. She looked like a ghost, as
the sayin is, ever after he was took and
she just died. "
"Died"
really think must have shouted that
one word-so strangely the old crone looked
at me.
GAY, all of a suddint; settin' BY the chan
as he'd used to be in. Died-why, OF
course she died; just six weeks after i'm
Didn't they send for me to streak her out
and didn't see her IN her coffin? She
looked like a picter in wax, for all thu
blessed world; and she's buried along 0
him, as you may see for yourself if you &C
down"
But heard no more.
l dropped a sovereign into the shriveled
hand of the amazed old creature and hur-
ried out of the sound of her voice.
But not before l had hastily gathered
a spray or two of lavender to lay upon the
grave where Margaret and her husband
slept
Vbov had nassed away out of my life