The gold leaf. [volume] (Henderson, N.C.) 1881-1911, 1891-12-24

but she always took with her small ia,
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 60 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 wilderness in the
daytime. Now, from the church the whole
scene was like delicate picture in gray.
From without the observer could only see,
against 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 begun 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, was hateful to him." she confided
to the evergreens, and any angel who mil ht
happen to be listening. "Oh, l 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 step sounded in
her ear, and in aAmoment more some one
had entered the church and was coming
up the aisle to the spot, where she sat- It
was young man she had met very fire.
quently of late, since his family joined tho
church.
"How devoted you are" he said. "Real-
ly, quite like sister of charity, and how
quickly you work. I've been watching
you from outside; quite mediseval picture;
/; like an illumination, you know. Really
there was halo about your head, and you
looked-you'l have to forgive me for say
ing it, I can't help it-you looked SO beau
tiful"
1t is very hard to make an answer to
such speech. Marjorie Chadwick could
only say, ooh. Mr.. Stanisland."
And he answered. "Oh, but couldn't
help thinking it, really"
He was one of the young men from the
Heights; the only son of very wealthy
resident. His clothes came from London
and he had that indescribable look which
the word stylish does not fully express.
Marjorie was seated on a little carpeted
Eassock. He took another and sat near
her.
do you know Pm SO glad happened
to pass and see you,' he said. He paused
and showed his white teeth in a smile.
eyes," ne went on, very glad, for l want
to talk to you. Pve resolved to talk to you
for a long while The very first moment
saw you, you seemed different to me from
any one else, and the feeling increases.
really like you SO much that do rot know
how to tell you about it; don't, indeed
J
liked me. Won't you, can't you, will yor
marry me, Miss Chadwick? Will yous Oh
pray say you will" He was very young
was very much in earnest. AS Marjorie
listened, the thought that if he were not /
millionaire he was certain to be one die
occur to her. If she accepted him, all sh'
had longed for, people long for wha
they feel sure they can never have, would
be hers. A residence on the Heights,
carriage, diamonds, trips to Europe, posi-
ton. She gave great gasp. For a mo
ment she was tempted. Then she remem
bered her VOWS of remuneration. Sh
would be true to Herford's memory, tru
while she lived: She would do penanc
always, always. t.-sr y,
Marjorie, the young man was saying
Marjorie, won't you speak to me?" ant
she answered:
''Mr. Stanisland, I shall be very sorry
1 give you pain, but 1 have done with al
that forever 1 have loved once, 1 cal
never love again, 1 have promised mysel
that will not"
The young man came closer to her ant
put his arm about her waist.
THAT is all very beautiful, being true t.
some ones memory" he said. "But wit
long life before you it's not possible, yo'
say mo- now"
'Oh, must always say no to any on
who asks me-" Marjorie said. The ever
green had dropped out of her hand. Youn
Stanisland still sat with one arm light
about her. Now he took her fingers in hi
and lifted them to his lips AS he did 8
his back was turned to the door, and owe
his bent head she saw figure standin
there. The fading light fell full upon it
face. 1t wore the features of the dead.
resembled Herford Wayne AS she gazed
it turned and moved away, and where tn
three gravestones stood side by side-hi
fathers, his sisters and his own-seeme
to vanish. With him all else departed ais
for awhile. The first thing Marjorie kne,
Stanisland was kissing her forehead. II
had brought some water and held it to be
lips.
I'm sorry l distressed you," he sale
"Shan't l get cab? You'll not be able t
walk home"
She was strong enough, she averred, bu
he went for the carriage nevertheless.
"Goodbyy," he said at the door. Gan
perhaps after all you will think it over"