The Dupuyer acantha. [volume] (Dupuyer, Mont.) 1894-1904, 1894-09-22

Her tears had ceased some time before,
but there was q tense look III her
strong, disfigured face. In spite OF
herself, old scenes still surged through
her brain, wearied with night-watching
and grief. Now she saw Leander, his
gray hair ruff1ed, his gray eyes looking
indulgently over his newspaper when
he spoke. She saw him leaning on
his scythe, big drops on his bronzed,
impassive forehead, pulling deep
draughts from the jug she brought
him. She saw him still with herself,
on the doorstep, after a hard days
work-for no n could say he was not
a good farmer, did not keep things up,
for all his oddly silent ways. There
was a great Stiffness in the air, and
themselves at peace, they watched the
fading sky. Full of anguish she saw
him on his death bed, the fierce color
in his long, unshaven cheeks, the soft
ened, yet clear look of his eyes, the
tumbled sheets which she could not
straighten often enough. And she
heard again, alas! the strange words
he had let fall with such evident sin
cerity. That evening had seemed very
still. With her strong arms and knees
she had pushed his bed to the window.
His eyes had swept the sky, before he
spoke.
"She was allus a purity c%reetur, Lott
with them lips an eyes O hern,' he
had said. "Singlar how I've allus felt
as eff she blonged ter me, by rights
spite Of all. 'Praps eff I hadn't made
her marry him-right off-she'd come
round. Women do. I've thought o
that a heap o'times. But I was crazy
like them martyrs they tell bout,
Lott. Yes, twas like boilin' oil
Sence this fever, it feels jest's I did
then-only now I kinder like it-yes, 1
kinder like it now It's bein' young
again. An 1 see her palmer n ever 1
did-an' I've seed her purity plain, too,
sometimes-heard her, too. Did you
ever think that leetle brown bird that
sung them dry nj in the elm
sounded like her? Wal, / guess 1 should
ha, struck hiEl-Sooner r later-ef he
hadn't zone off fore the weddin'. But,
I.or, 1 guess't warn't no way ter do.
l s'pose he's gin her heaps O fixins',-
fust an last-but 1 allus said he warn't
no great hand with women-folks, fur
alfs fine ways. But eff she vas sorry,
whose fault vast? I've thought O.
that a powerful deal, too. But l listen
ed enough. AFTER she was gone ter
bed, an you was quiet upstairs, I'd
creep out, an listen, an listen. When
she was sObbin' so. eff she'd said a
word about me, my name or any thin
yer knoW-an' she might ha' said that
I'D ha' opened the door, an gone in.
an TUX her in my arms-or else I'd
struck her. I've often wondered which.
It's most craZed me sometimes-seein'
her round so. But most likely I've
liked it. I guess there amt many
places bout the old farm. where she
amt been with me. I've had her in
my arms, sometimes-but in a dream
yes, I guess mostly in a kinder dream"
His sister had held her breath for
| him to go on. Il kin feel her pantin'-
best he had said, then; that was
when 1 asst eff we hadn't better git mar
ried, yer know. 1 thought I'd dot
bout this time O. day-when yer don't
see each other so awful plain; n /
waited fur a real good sunset. Seemed
ter me 'twould make a heap o differ
whether twas red or yaller. Maybe
eff I'd TUX a yaller one I'd a done bet
ter; but somehow 7 allus liked this red
kind best. There she is! I declare eff
she's altered a mite this evenin'. ,"
AS his sister had heard the words
they had seemed to burn her, as if
they, too, were full of fever. He was
not raving. He had only spoken him
self out-at last.
Miss Longman was M of those who
cherish the past for it's simple tender
nesses, it's homely devotions, but she
must feel herself moving, pre-eminent
among those memories, to give then
value. Now in the t~orturing confusion
of her mind. before this passion, sur
prised as it were, still living in the
sick man, one feeling predOminated-
an intolerable sense of repulsion, of al
most physical disgust. as before some
thing so strange, so unexpected, as tt
seem unlovely, uncanny-Shameless al
most.
But now the graveyard was in sight
From a slope the two women saw tn
few tall shafts shining pallidly; tn
dingier tablets standing at many an
giles; here and there a faded nOsega.
on a mound. That morning Miss Long
man her veil d~ecorously drawn owe
her working face, had solemnly ap
preached the cemetery from the villag
TOau. NOW, Hcl NCll thlo"h ooSNs SA
rapidly picked her way between thu
graves.
Suddenly she stopped. Sarah" sh
said, with a kind of gasp, will you tel
her to go away-that I'm here?'
Mrs. White stood petfif1ed. By TIL
grave they sought stood Il woman. Sh
was very pretty. Her roses We're
little faded. for. she was no longe
young, but the curves of her face an
figure still retained a charm. For tn
second time that day Mrs. White ne
ticed how her soft lips trembled-an
also the smoothneSs III delicacy @
her quiet dress-but everybody sal
Harry Longman had made a forum
~"inventin'." AS in a dream. Mrs
White saw the woman beseech Mis-
Longman by look and gesture, . IN
when the other did not respond tur
slowly away. Then Sarah Whit
reused herself. All her Christia
meekness and forbearance seemed t
surge within her. They overcame th
intense repellant power she felt for /
tho woman beside her, and she SPOKE
Call her back" she said:
Call her backy' said the othel
fiercely.
You asst her ter come" went o
the admonitory' voice.
mo, he asst her" said the other. a
: most with a wall. The secret of a
her bitterness was in the cry. Sh
tossed her hands again. with tia
touch of the tragic which had vaguel
!, alarmed her friend. Her face grew re
as if in the glow of a hot fire.