Waterbury evening Democrat., 1890-07-17

unDcOAon now, Sno tne oto bsru Suone e c vault.
 went back to the house, fearing that my constant dread and suspense was affecting my brain. Aunt Jessie must have gone to bed but this morning told her. It seems as if (though can bear in silence my one all-absorbing sor- soW) I cannot bear these trihing doubts and uncertainties. Do others ever feel SO. I wonder, when one great over whelming grief has swallowed up every joy or hope that they have ever known or dreamed of?
 But I never expected Aunt Jessie to be SO angry with me as she was, or to speak so scornfully and tremulously of my unhealthy fanoies, sternly ordering me to keep silent on such subjects.
 "Once throw suspicion on the house, and no servant will stop with us. It is a tumble-down, gloomy old place as 1t is, without your bringing ridiculous stories of ghosts to make the girls avoid it."
 So I said no more to Aunt Jessie, and I have not been down to the old barn again.
 I wish might sleep tonight but how can I? The moment l lie down, it seems as if the thoughts that had been coming singly through the day all start up to crowd around me at once, and grow gigantic, and burn into the dark ness. And my eyes get wide and hot, and the lids ache and will not close, and my head losses from side to side and feels like lead.
 An. me the night is worst of all Where is Gerard? Oh, Gerard, how my heart cries for you in its anguish And wonder where is the false friend who committed the sin. I know he committed it, though I cannot read these plotted lines which may tell me. But 1 know full well whose was the real sin.
 Midnight, and the house so still I never noticed until now how different is the stiffness of happy, guiltless house from one in which shame and sorrow brood. Once more will try to rest. It was of no use, could not sleep; I repeated all the hymns knew; count ed thousand tried to think of noth- ing; but, after it all, sleep was as far from my eyelids as if they had never sweet relief. And so, before the first dim vestige of the dawn appeared, I was leaning from the window, watching for it with tired, hungering eyes. Slowly there grew out of the silence the sound of wheels; slow, heavy wheels, in that part of the yard which I could see from my window mean which could have seen if there had been light. At first wondered little, but then remembered that had last night heard grandfather tell Aunt Jessie to have a man and cart sent into the town, as soon as it was daylight, for tiles.
 had been so long unaccustomed to Il T.. -s-.I> that that was why had begun so sud- wheels. But while leaned there, still idly looking where the sound was, some one came into the yard with lantern, and I saw by its light that this was Aunt Jessie.
 Then my eyes grew eager indeed. Aunt Jessie there in the yard before daylight, with a lantern in her hand, and Q black shawl untitled about her bent gray head! I watched with quickened breath, for connected this at once-as connected everything beyond the regular routine of daily duties-with | Gerard.
 AhI we'll might I connect this with him, for Aunt Jessie had only stood one
 minute beside the horse, when Gerard himself came up to her, from the gloomy | him until he came within the light of her lantern, but I heard his step, and knew it. And then watched-oh, with such feverish pain and excitement, and dread and jealousyl If he would but take me with him. If he had only thought it would be safe to take me with him, what could have stayed me from joining him now?
 But I clinched my hands upon the window-sill, and quite silently watched him, knowing he was going away from me. Oh, if could only have been Aunt Jessie for these few moments, to kiss the sad face and to feel his arms about me 1 But-far away. cold and alone-I could only watch him go.
 | He was disguised as a carter, and he wore an old servants hat slouched down over his face, but, for all that, knew him in an instant through the disguise, as had known his step in the darkness. saw Aunt Jessie meet him with her hands stretched out, for she had put down the lantern on the edge of the empty cart, md I saw him kiss her just as he used to kiss her in the old days. With a quick throb at my heart, that Has more like joy than anything I had haown for long days, I felt that Gerard Gould never have kissed her so if there had been the shadow of guilt between them.
 Then I saw her take up his hands, bend her gray head over them in the light of the candle, which already burned low in the lantern socket, and then speak to him anxiously. I E my brother Rtoop and rub the wet s' a his hands, with actually smile upon lis face, then take the whip, turn the horse by the rein, and leave the yard slowly. That was all I saw or heard; but know how Gerard is making his escape. And somehow it seems easier for mo now to pray for his safety.
 After our early breakfast this morn ing, I heard Aunt Jessie tell the wagon CT to go to Penzanoe and bring the cart back with the tiles.
 "Your master sent it in carly" she said. "and you'll find it where you al-