The Sunday morning news., 1891-12-20

1ODJlS came anu WtuU ttlu utSttc q year.
Again the church was decked with ever
greens, again the grocers and confectioners
made their windows gay, again fond moth
ers played the pretty Santa Claus farce,
and stockings hung in the ingleside, and
Christmas trees were dressed with sugar
doves and glistening colored balls and
golden stars and tapers. The old herb
seller went about, and the man with spice
berries, but neither of them went near
Annah Wayne's door. 1t was known that
she would buy nothing. For twelve
month after the death of a relative all Gro
ton people tied their shutters with black
ribbon. Annah Wayne did it every year.
"This is the way keep my Christmas"
she once said bitterly to neighbor who
saw her at her task and who only shook
her head in answer.
On that day she kept fast and vigil in
her darkened kitchen, swinging to and fro
in the big rocking chair. She had never
been given to tears. Now her eyes seemed
utterly dry, but her heart wses weeping.
Another woman in Groton cried for two
during the holidays. This was Marjorie
Chadwick. Marjorie had become teacher
in the district school and seemed to have
renounced all idea of matrimony. 1t was
a known fact that she refused to receive
sort of modified widows mourning for Her
ford, which she still wore. She never went
to parties She gave presents only to poor
people who needed them, and though she
regularly went to the church to assist in
decorating it with evergreens, she would
never allow a wreath to be hung in her
own window. In fact, poor Marjorie was
doing penance, being firmly Convinced of
the fact that she had brought a Judgment
upon herself by her own wicked discon-
tent, and especially by saying things she
should not have said during that last walk
with her betrothed husband when she
should have been so thankful and happy.
She had resolved to take life sadly forever
more, to do her humble duty and not dis
tress people or talk of her own trials. To
wear her cross beneath her cloak if need
be, but still to wear it all her life.
Now and then she called on Mrs. Wayne.
They never talked of their mutual trouble,
but she always took with her small jar
of jelly, as she did to those who were i'll.
She did not, however. pay these calls at
Christmastide.
On the fifth anniversary of the day Of
her walk with Herford, Marjorie was alone
in the church dressing it. Evening was
closing in and most Of the ladies had felt
obliged to go to their homes, but she had
fingered. The occupation pleased her.
And when it was too dark to go up the
ladder and hang the evergreens she could
still tie the small bits together, making
long ropes for wreaths and festoons. The
heater had been lit and the church was
warm. One of the doors stood open. Be
yond lay the smooth stone path that led to
the street. There had been talk of remov-
ing the graveyard, but it had not been
done. Few new headstones had been added
of late years however. The last funeral
that had passed between the stone urns at
the gateway was that which she should
never forget while memory remained TO
her.
From where she sat she could see Mrs.
Wayne's little plot Three stones stood to-
gether there. The last, on which Her
ford's name was craven, was distinguished
from the others by its whiteness in the
daytime Now, from the church the whole
scene was like delicate picture in gray
From without the observer could only see,
against a mysterious background, the yell
low globe of light that flung it's radiance
over Marjorie's bright tresses and fair
face. and her white hands defined clearly
by her black dress as she bound the bits of
evergreen together.
She WAS unconscious of an observer, and
worked on, dreaming the while of the
pleasant face and merry ways of the boy
who had begnn to make love to her before
his school days were over, wincing as she
thought that her last afternoon was spent
In stabbing him with cruel little filings.
''Oh.sl was hateful to him." she confded
to the eyergreens, and any angel who might
happen to be listening. "Oh, was hate
full But it does seem hard that should
never be happy again in all my life" Her
eyes were full of tears, but she quickly
brushed them away. for a step sounded in
her ear, and in a moment more some one
had entered the church and was coming
up the aisle to the spot where she sat. IL
was young man she had met very fre-
quently of late. since his family joined the
church.
How devoted you are, )" he said. "Real-
iy, quite like a sister of charity, and how
quickly you work. I've been watching
you from outside;Quite medieval picture;
like an illumination, you know Really
there was a halo about your head, and you
looked-you'll have to forgive me for say
ing it. can't helpis-you looked so beau
tiful"
1t is very hard TO make an answer TO-
sarh speech. Marjorie Chadwick could
only say sOh. Mr.. Stanisland."
Ce1sssnsed on Sixfh puos.