Rock Island daily Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1886-1893, 1892-03-05

gu itf' 'ti!i' -
~ tCdS poor and Uncouth, but she neUer
| grudgct to put her little hands in mine"
Mrs. Beverley was in the habit of go
! ing at least once a month, sometimes
oftener, TO the family burying ground,
to see that everything was neat and
trim, and the place free from fallen
twigs and rubbish. 1t was a lovely, |
peaceful spot, on the crest of the hill
Just beyond the orchard, which it over
looked, IS well as the house and yard
and a magnificent stretch of view made
up of hill and dale and wooded noun
tains and broad shining reaches of slow
| ~ flowing river. Around it, instead of
the usual wooden paling, was close
cedar hedge, broken only at the spot !
where the gate gave access to what is sol
beautifully termed Gods acre" In :
the center were three tall cedars, stand
ing so as to form triangle, and undeg
the shadows of their spreading branches
rested the dust of many generations Of
Beverleys
1t was soft, still, April evening The
cloudless sky bent lovingly over the
earth, as the bridegroom bends over the
bride, and the earth smiled with the
JOYOUS promise of the season of love and
hope. Soft green things pushed up
through the brown mold, crocuses
opened golden hearts to the kisses of the
breeze, yiolets unfolded white and pur-
pie petals and sweetened the air with
their fragrant breath, and lilies of the
valley and snowdrops were waiting coy
I 70 I
shaking out their snowy bells On the
hickory. oak and poplar trees downy
little knots of leaves We're bursting their
brown shells and coming forth 10 view
the world. In the budding branches
birds twittered and chirped of love and
! housekeeping. and every instinct was
| for germin; ton and growth and press
! ing upward
| Mary passed through the orchard I'M
der the budding apple trees with feel
| ing of peace in her heart that was partly
the outcome of deep sympathy with ma
ture and partly the atmosphere of her
own sweet soul In her hand she car
( ried a little basket of spring flowers TO
! lay in loving remembrance on the gray
| slab of granite that covered the grave o:
/ the tall, fair haired soldier who had
wooed and won her twelve long years
before. and whose blue eyes stiIl gazed
/ into hers from under little Rams brown
curls
| Her mind was full of thoughts of him
and her mood was soft and tender as
she opened the gate gently and entered
| the sacred spot. She did not glance
about, but passed straight along the lit
| tie center walk to the granite slab which
was close to the trunk of one of the
cedars. She shook out all her flowers
and formed with them wreath around
| the short inscription: Hector Beverley
Obiit April. IS, Rtat. So 1t was
only when her task was done that she
became aware of the presence of a man
in the corner by the cedar hedge kneel-
ing beside the grave of little child
His back was toward her, and he had
a trowel in his hand and large basket
on the ground beside him, from which
he took clumps Of green and planted
them on the grave. The breath of vio-
lets filled the air with perfume, and
Mary, attracted in spite of herself. and
slightly curious, went softly over the
him, looking down. She had known at
once that it was Anthony, and seeing
him there beside the grave of her hus-
bands little sister brought to her mind
the thought of the lonely boy, with his
hard, unlovely childhood, and she knew
with one of those swift intuitions women
have, that that boy was kneeling there
at her feet.
Anthony had cleared away the sod
from the center of the mound in the
shape Of cross, and was planting it
thick and close With great tufts of hot
house violets. purple and white, whose
fragrance rose purely and seemed to
breathe OF love that was deathless.
After silently watching the strong
brown hands at their work for a mo-
ment, Mary unfa stoned bunch of white
and lilac crocuses from her bosom, and
STOPPING laid them on the foot of the
grave. Anthony glanced up at her with
a brief Thank your and went on with
his work. He WIS not surprised or star
tied; his trained senses had made him
aware of her approach from the moment
her hand touched the latch of the gate.
and as she stood behind him he had
taken a sudden resolution. He would
tell her about himself, his connection
with her husbands family, his love for
the child whose little form rested be-
meath the cross of violets.
In that sacred place and presence he
forgot to wonder how it would affect
her, or what change if any it might
make in their relative positions. He for
got to think of himself at all
Rising to his feet, he turned his face
which was not no ole in line or express
sion, and yet was honest and manly and
straightforward, full upon her, and