Waterbury evening Democrat., 1892-05-24

Miss Mayhew humbly hoped that he, frightened grasp on ife-the little hectic flush of hope that came to her that au tumn morning-was not due to a presen timent of Sister Martha's near depar ture. The world looked very beautiful tC her eyes that crisp, blowy day. There wa a little gap between the Woods house anG old MT. Simons' place, where she could catch a distant glimpse of the hills witt the yellow foliage shining against tho blue like golden pillows fringed witt flame. The pale glimmer of the fad ing willows, the white stems of young birches seen through thinning veils oi leaves, seemed like new and delightful picture. Today there were no troops oi school children passing by with thei1 dinner baskets and books, but great company of emigrating birds settled down in her front yard, preened their feathers and consulted together with noisy talk on the wall, and at last rose and flew away with a great whir of wings. The smallest incident made her happy.
 It was easier to love her neighbors when her head ached less and the films of weakness, spotted with black, ceased to dance before her eyes. She held up the little rose colored garment she was making in her thin, pale fingers, and felt an unusual sense of comfort and warmth steal over her as she listened to the soft snapping of the logs on the old brass andirons. The large empty house seemed warmer and cozier now that she knew Sister Martha was speeding homeward on the train. In country phrase Mrs. Whitcumb was "no company" for her sister-in-law. They could not find com mon meeting ground, and to have her in the house, even though unseen, brought with it a sense of oppression.
 Meantime the captain sat just where his visitor had left him, when she closed the front door and he heard her foot steps retreating down the walk. He felt utterly weak and unnamed; the water stood in great drops on his forehead as he lived over the scene and saw what was in his heart when he was tempted to clutch the woman's throat. He had knocked down mutinous sailor once on shipboard with belaying pin, and he remembered having had the same sensa- tions then, before the fellow began to show signs of life. But there were other things to think of, terrible as that mur- derous impulse looked to him, and deep as was the precipice over whose brink he had taken flying glimpse.
 The confession of that woman came back to him bit by bit out of the turmoil of his sensations. He saw how poor Vinie had been tricked by Martha Whit cumb and her own mother, who was rabid to seize upon any rumor to his hurt, however black. But Vinie had loved him all the time. Her soul, inno- cent and white, had taken no stain. Even if she believed he had wronged her she had forgiven him. She had faded and withered and suffered in silence through the years, but had kept 8 glimmer of trust in him alive in her gentle heart. She had sat by her win dow to watch him as he passed with averted head. She had listened for his footsteps and lived on the signs of his existence-the smoke going up from his chimney, the light in his window, had known when he came and when he went, had trained her ear to catch all reports of him in the wind.
 He felt his strength quite broken as he sat there with his dark head in his hands, and the tears began slowly to trickle through his brown fingers. The impress of the mothers hard, unjust words seemed all washed away by those drops wrung from the soul of stalwart man, to whom an outward show of emo tion was 8 kind of agony. George Bligh had shed no tears when his mother died or when he buried his last sister and was left alone. But now he was crying like child. These were the drops of awe and pity that are said to purge and purify the heart.
 He never knew how long he thus sat- The sunlight faded out of the room and travelled westward. His Maltese cat jumped upon the table, stepping softly among the neglected dishes. The par rot, in a weak, cracked voice, kept scold- ing and fussing about on his perch. 'tHullo, Georgep he would cry, "don't be fool" He had lived long time on shipboard, and the sailors had taught him the use of bad language, and some times he varied his advice to George by the introduction of ''swear" word.
 But the captain did not hear him. He was reviewing all his past. He seemed to be standing outside himself, where he could see his life in all it's deformity- the warping and peryersion of his better nature, layers of hardness and selfish ness that had gathered in moody, un- sympathetic years, the appetite for greed and gain that had grown upon him stealthily like a creeping mold. He had struggled for advantage like other men, and some weaker brothers had neces- sarily gone to the wall. A strong, masterful, self willed man, he had made his purposes tell in the world of affairs, while he shut himself away from his neighbors and lived in a marrow groove. A good lover. good hater, q valiant fighter, half way measures were not poaEilla @ Caorna RIiah. Rnt nonr hia