Waterbury evening Democrat. [volume] (Waterbury, Conn.) 1887-1895, 1892-08-17

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81 qUdS poor and uncolLth, but she nevcr
gr'tdgcd to put her little hands In mine"
Mrs. Beverley was in the habit of 90
ing at least once 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, as 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
ly flowing river. Around it, instead of
the usual wooden paling, was a close
cedar hedge, broken only at the spot
where the gate gave access to what is so
beautifully termed Gods acre" In
the ccntcr were three tall cedars, stand
ing so us to form triangle, and under
the shadows of their spreading branches
rested the dust of many generations Of
Beverlrys.
1t was soft, still, April evening. The
cloudless sky bent lovingly over the
earth, MS 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, violets unfolded white and pur-
pie petals and sweetened the air with
their fragrant breath, and lilies of the
valley and snowdrops were waiting coy
ly for the sun to coax and WOO them into
shaking out their snowy bells. On the
hickory, oak and poplar trees downy
little knots of leaves were bursting their
brown shells and coming forth to view
the world. In tho budding branches
birds twittered and chirped of love and
housekeeping, and every instinct was
for termination 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 little basket of spring flowers to
lay in loving remembrance on the gray
slab of granite that covered the grave O:
tho tall, fair haired soldier who had
wooed and Won her twelve long years
| before, and whose blue eyes still 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 a wreath around
the short inscription: Hector Beverley
| Obiit April, IS, ntat. 35." 1t was
only when her task was done that she
became aware of tho 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
| u 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-
| let's filled the air with perfume, and
Mary, attracted in spite of herself, and
| slightly curious, went softly over the
| short green grass and stood close behind
l. 4 - II
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, unlovcly 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 soc
from the center of the mound in the
shape of cross, and was planting il
thick and close with great tufts of hot
house violets, purple and white, whose
fragrance rose purely and seemed t.
breathe of love that was deathless.
After silently watching the strong
brown hands at their work for q mo
mcnt, Mary unfastcned bunch of white
and lilac crocuses from her bosom, anC
STOPPING laid them on the foot of tn,
grave, Anthony glanced up at her Will
u brief Thank your and went on will
his work. He was not surprised or star
tied; his trained senses had made hin
} aware of her approach from the momen
her hand touched the latch of the gate
and as she stood behind him he hat
taken sudden resolution. He woulC
tell her about himself, his connection
with her husbands family, his love TO
tho child whose little form rested be
Meath the cross of violets.
In that sacred place and presence h