The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1893-12-28

railing and called. Her voice was still
sweet low and cold:
"Oh, Marg' ret!'
Marg'ret turned her ugly little face with
Its feeble wagering smile upon her.
Come back minute, / want TO tell 70
something
She came close to the edge of the porch
and looked up into Belyidera,s eyes.
Up and down the village street there was
no one In sight; the light that marked the
shadowy place was deeper in tint: wind
flowers lavishly.
Belvidera stopped far over the railing
"Pd sort o. made up my mind at I'd never
tell yo', but reckon 1t won't make no diff
ference now, since JOEL he's dead. an it
about that first Sunday 1 wore my organdie
with the pink blush roses in the stripes
Marg'ret looked weary at the reintroduc-
did Joel ever tell yo'," Belvidera asked
insinuatingly,. what he said when he run
after me at the sluice?'
He never mentioned the subtec an /
never asked him.
Joel. says TO me. says he. 'Beividera.
let's take everything back an begin all over
again. This is the last time IN ever ask
yo'.' / laughed. / didn't believe il. Lots
o men had said the same thing an come
back every time. l thought Joel was like
What did Joel mean by that?''
Belvidera answered relentessly:
cit was true what the people was a-sayin'
Joel was keepin' comp'ny with me unbe-
knownst, but he didn't want anybody to
know; he couldn't take setback Ike 9TH
rs that ali?'' asked Margret The feeble
smile had left her face; her face was trem-
That's all. 1 jes thought I'd tell yo'; I
hope yo dom mind 1t dom make no diff
ference now, yo' know"
She went away slowly.
''Yo' sure yo' don't mind now. Marg'r
Belvidera called again.
NO" answered Margret without looking
back.
At home she put the kettle over the fire
and laid the cloth for tea; she sat and
against her skirts and begged for bread;
| the dog came TO the kitchen door-he was
not allowed to enter-and whined. He want
| ed her to know that his supper hour had
passed, that he was hungry. She kept very
| still with her hands folded upon the edge
| OF the cloth. She had the dazed feeling of
| one who has received blow and is but
half conscious of the hurt.
Through the open door she saw the light
| die out of the street, saw the girls In their
| ly their laughter and calls to each other
| She arose, cleared the table, gave the cat his
milk and the dog his bone; after|a aisa6 she
| at nothing
At dusk she walked down a path between
rows Of tall bean poles and border of cur
rant bushes. crept under the fence bars and
| stepped out into grassy, unfrequented
lane. 1t was a. way of SORROW, narrow ano
rough. Only the feet of those who, went
and came to and from graves passed over
| it; it led between fenced meadows to the
| graveyard by the river.
| Marg'ret stumbled along to the gate; she
| grasped il with shaking hands she was
| little woman the gate was tall and she
| stood on tiptoe to look between the bars.
| Her eyes sought and found JoePs grave,
green with neatly cut grass, white mead,
| stone and a bunch of yellow marigolds and
them the 'f from the garden but yesterday Tears
| blinded her. She felt in her pocket Tor her
| key and put 1t back again.
| II CANT go in-I caint!" she cried, i
| don't ever low to go in again, KNOWN what
| I know now; an it was so much comp ny
| on'y JUS to set there with my hand In the
| grass. Oh, Lord, do wish yod kept this to
| yo'selfl 1 wish from the bottom o my
| heart I'd never needed to know it. l wish
| yo'd seen fit to rule at Belvidera neio
| ii for Belvidera, she don't lie, she never
did But SEEM things had gone on this far,
| | wish hadn't knowed 1t now"
She raised her head from her arm and
/ began to wipe away the tears with the
| corner of her apron; they flowed faster;
ba T ' AGAINST her eyes. She felt as If She
! had been bereft Of faith and trust and graf
itude-for she had ever been conscious Of a
| child and found the loss less hard than his
| The unsurpassed bitterness of a sighted.
oyeess girlhoed flowed from ron her lips Rber NC
| was young an everybody was head over
ears in love with Belyidera an l was no ?;
| love her for 1t. Kind feelin's an good
| hearts didn't make bit O. difference with
| others But I do say it now, IL don seem
| fair at Belvidera sh'd have everything.
| even this 1t dom seem fair at Belvidera
sh'd have the reddest cheeks an the black
| est eyes an be so handsome, an others be
| so white an peaked-lookin' with eyes
| Almost no color: at Belvidera sh'd have
| aTays such mess o. things to say. an
others not to be able to find a word TO lay
| their tongue to-never. 1t dom seem fair
| dom care what you say-It don, ii DOM
Her passion of wonderful feeling, rebel
| lion and disappointment exhausted itself
Night fell while she stood there calling out
| her complaint TO God. The terrace grew
| dark: the river was black; a thousand
| stars looked down into it.
| Marg' ret turned from the gate
4 II dom ever low to go in there again
| less'n it's to somebody else's funeral" she
| repeated between fluttering breaths thai
| would have been sobs had she been less
| self-repressed; 1T do maNe such differ
| ence He dom seem to belong TO me hail
| as much as he does to Belvidera."
| She made her way home, stumbling In
the darkness down the narrow, unfre-
| quented lane.
$ Edgar Benet, in Kate Fields Wash