The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1892-02-24

81 can 60 over it once more, then,
Rhoda answered, striving to keep steady
her soft voice-tfor I don't want to
offend you, Mr.. Olmsted-oh, you know
that! But I cannot marry you. Me, q
plain country girl, without money or
position OK advantages of any kinda
district school teacher, and the daughter
of farmer! And you, city man, with
with all that I lack and more-with a
family who would be horritied at your
choice, if they knew of it. 1t has been
a mistake, Mr.. Olmstead," said Rhoda,
bravely-"our having had so much to do
with the boarders here this summer-I
and the rest of the Easthampton girls.
It's been nice, going to the dances and
picnics and all, and having good times
with all of you. And you have been
very-vcry kind. But"-she ended with
q sort of desperate ferceness, for he1
heart was throbbi6g dangerously-"but
I would not do you the injustice to marry
you! 1t would be "a failure. YOU
would not be happy with me back in
your city home among your city friends.
You would be ashamed of me!''
"Ashamed!"
George Olmsted turned upon her a
look-a stare of amazement and hurt
feeling and indignation-which it seemed
to Rhoda she Gould never forget, truth
full though she believed her words to
have been.
"You will marry that fellow, Steele
Owen Steele: Shall you2" her lover said,
his voice hoarsened.
"He has asked me-" Rhoda answered,
letting her eyes dwell on the face which
had grown dear to her-for would it not
be the last time? "And I think-yes,
caa foresee that I shall marry him! Don't
you see how much better suited We
should be, Mr.. Olmsted7 We are of the
same sort. He would never be ashamed. !"
She had not meant to repeat the taunt
which had so hurt him. She looked up
at him rather pitifully.
"Good.by," she said, with tears in her
eyes and her voice-"good-byW
They were standing in the doorway Of
her little schoolhouse, for the Easthamp-
ton school directors had decided upon
beginning the fall term in August, and
Rhoda had been teaching for week.
"Good-by!" she said, for third time,
falteringly, and locked her door and
turned away from the pale-faced young
man, doing everything mechanically, and
conscious of an odd, dazed feeling that
her life-her life-was over and done
with now, forever, and left him motion
lcssly standing there.
She found her mother in the kitchen,
and bustling about in the service of a
middle-aged woman half-lying on the
settee, her calico dress fallen in limp folds
and her checked sunbonnet laid aside.
.'Why, it's Mrs. Petermanl" said
Rhoda, with kind interest, her saddened
young face warming sympathetically.
eyes. it's Mrs. Peterman, with one of
her awful sick headaches" said her
mother, hurrying with the canphor and
ammonia and hot water all at once.
eHere SQc COueS Clcut OFcr ucIe, 1oul
miles it's to her house, you know-with
the incest blackberries I've seen fol
years, 1 was going to say; bushel OF
more, and fine ones-and the sun has Sc,
her head to aching 80 she can't see hardly,
and she isn't fit to stir. I want her tc
give it up, and just rest here oil night.
She'll be welcome"
:sYou'rc awful good!" said Mrs. Peter
man, family; land l would, Mis- Mer'
ritt, if 'twan't for them berries. can,
let 'em go to waste and not git cen,
for 'em. The children and me worked
most all yesterday Citing 'em, and We
need the money. Sakes alive! l dom
know what ] be going to do," said Mrs
Peterman, all but tearfully, tapping the
floor with her worn old shoe, while she
pressed her aching head with her stained
hands.
"You wanted to peddle them al
through here, 1 suppose?' said Rhoda
with her quick sympathy.
81 was calc'lating to-ycs."
Chow much do ycu sell them for?"
"The most I can git" said Mrs Peter