The Sedalia weekly bazoo. [volume] (Sedalia, Mo.) 187?-1904, 1891-03-31

against the March sky Miss Gray grew
strangely quiet.
And, also, that at these times she in
variably shut herself up in her studio
with its crimson curtains and fell to
painting ilies-lovely, satiny Easter
lilies.
"What was it that you said?' she
asked, finally, coming back from the
far-of, indefinite somewhere.
''The Easter service of the Russians, 81
resumed Olive, glad of hearing at
last, 'when all the people rise in the
beautifully-decorated churches and say
what is it that they say, Eunice?''
go" and Miss Gray begins softly,
reverently, ''each one clasps the hand
of his neighbor at the left, and, greet
ing him with a kiss, exclaims; Christ is
risenr Then, while the anthem rolls
and the lilies tremble on the altar, they
rejoice together"
''But," queried Olive, suppose your
tneighbor' happened to be your enemy
and wouldn't rejoice with you?"
"In that case should think it would
be sad, Indeedi Enemies at Easter
tide
Miss Gray's dreamy, brown eyes filed
with tears and her face grew very
white. Then she pushed back the Grim
son curtain, shut her lips tightly and
picked up the brush tipped with 'tsilver
lake" once more.
"Wouldn't rejoice with you" Eunice
bent over the clustering lilies and the
great tears rolled down her pale cheeks.
Olive West looked startled and panied.
A moment after she stole quietly out of
the room, feeling in a vague, uncertain
way that she had touched the chord of
sorrow, somehow, unwittingly.
so, it was who was the enemy and
would not rejoice" moaned Eunice, in
agony of soul, when alone with her
burdened heart.
The lilies on the easel Tom loved
lilies SOY seemed to nod in painful affirm
alton, as she repeated: 81 was the
enemy"
Yes, once Tom Ashley loved the
waxen blossoms passionately, but he
loved Eunice Gray far better than all
things else.
Now? Well! Among those that went
down TO the sea in ships and had gone,
none knew whittier, was handsome Tom
Ashley.
And in the days agone, before the es-
arrangement, he was all the world to
her, but she knew it not.
How many times they had carried
lovely lilies to the little chapel of the
sailors on the shore at Eastertide and
wreathed the plain railing with their
fragrant beauty; in those days his face
was joyful and bright and hers was
fairer and sweeter than the blossoms.
But it would happen no more; no, life
was bhghted. The Thomas doubt had
crept across their dream and blurred
the golden chapter, and the lilies bud
ded In strange unfriendly airs Other
hands might touch and thrill the pulse
with happiness under their spell; but it
would never be theirs.
No; that breezy April morning years
ago had sealed them as strangers; that
one on which Tom took his hat and
walked slowly down the pretty, white
street, overlooking the booming break
ers, and communed with his grieved |
soul. Eunice lived at the end of the |
street in the pretentious cottage stand |
ing apart from its neighbors-
Tom put his hand on the gate reso- /
lutely; he would go in and tell her how
he loved her still. His calling took him |
away on long voyages and no one knew
what might happen in his absence; and |
the day after Easter he was to sail.
"Joe, see who that is coming in, called
hiss Gag, i2nocently enough, from her