The weekly Union times. [volume] (Union C.H., South Carolina) 1871-1894, 1890-01-17
CHAPTER XVII.

rection OF her sons steps that morning.
and could not help knowing whittier
he was bound.
The morning passed noontime came,
but did not see him returning. Her
lonely meal was eaten, and the table
was cleared.
In the pleasant April sunshine she
rat outside the door half the afternoon,
with her knit 'ng, anxiously Watching
the long stretch Of the crossroad down
to the highway.
About three o'clock she saw Edgar
approaching. He moved unsteadily
and slow.
She fastened down the road to meet
him. His eyes were bent on the
! ground; his knees threatened to sink
under him ut every step.
eddie, dear boy, what is the mat
Ter? ?" she nnxiously asked.
He raised his face. Its CHASTITY pallor
,mcte her with fright.
She wound her arms about him, she
called him endearing names, she even
kissed his cold hands as she supported
! him back to the house. He ONLY said.
in voice raised little above a whis-
per:
II am not we'll. / must go home"
80 you shall; and you shall lie down
md rest, and I'll make you some of
my nice cordial to strengthen you.
What has happened, son? Is it any-
thing about that girl?"
Il shall never see her again." he
whispered.
Have you two quarreled? I feared
you would, sooner or later. Don't take
it to heart, Eddie; cheer up; perhaps
you'll make it up next time; if YOU
don't it may be the very best tiiir,5.
Tor you that G"SlA SlsAl-dhlaayss% dhlaayss%en. t-o'ef
Ills hand wasst..c..ssl.iiss's'e5 .iisse5- .-sssii5..l
protest against her chatter. She
ceased. Supporting him through the
gate, she was leading him TO his bed
! DOM, when his strength wholly gave
ing chair that she had just vacated, and |
his head dropped to his breast.
Thoroughly frightened by his looks
and actions, the mother flew into the
house for restorative. The strong
ralts ut his nose revived him little.
The fearful woman had flung herself
down Mt his feet, and now held his
hands, imploring him to look ut her,
to speak to her.
A weary smile lighted his wan face
for an instant only as he saw her. He
tried to speak, but he could not utter a
syllable.
40, Eddie, my darling boy, don't
look so!-don't act so! You haven't
been we'll for long time. / have seen
it plainly. That girl never loved you;
YOU wouldn't have been happy with
her; don't grieve yourself about her.
1 must nurse you back to health and
strength. We might take little jour
ney as soon as the weather becomes
settled; you want change. Shall we
go across the lake?-or would you
rather"
She stopped abruptly. His hands
lay limp and cold in hers. his eyes
stared in stony way down upon her.
The troubled soul had taken the last
iourney-the silent voyage beyond the
river!
Not the shock of his rude overthrow
in the wood by the stalwart arms oi
Randall Belmont had wrought his
death. The physical pains of that as
sault had almost passed; he had slept
them off beneath the tree.
If ever men die of broken hearts,
that fate was hin.
! The discovery at the Bryson house (;
| the conflict of anger, modification, and
despair that had since ragged in his
! breast; the conviction, emphasized by
the Language of~l2andali belmont in
the wood, that Jessica was lost to him
| forever these had united to snap the
cords of his existence, and his suffer.
ing heart stood still.
CHAPTER XVIII
| CLEAN OF HOPE
The events Immediately following
the death of Edgar Van Wyck may bt