Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1894-10-17


deep seas. She chose to share the lot of
no man to whom she could not give her.
self heartily, wholly.
81 knaw ye like me, Andrew" she
said frankly. ''I've al'ays knawn it, an
thank you. If ever I come to think i
that other way, an if see ye're i the
same mind still, I'll speak first. Don't
ask me any more Andrew. I'll speak
first"
Henceforth, as before, they were
friends-close, firm friends-but no fur
ther. Season after season Andrew sailed
off in his yawl for the whiteishing on
the Dogger, returning each time with
brain af1ame for the sight of her. And
she met him with mere smile and hand
shake, in her eyes no token of change.
no ghmmer of awakening affection.
Eight years thus numbered away
eight weary, joyless years-and neither
Hilda nor Andrew had sought to break
through their pact Of silence. About
this time Hilda was sorely stricken with
typhoid, then rife in the village, and
for an anxious space she dwelt on the
very border line Of here and hereafter.
On Andrews persuasion-he stalking
his word that great mans fees
should be forthcoming called in
DR.. Ratcliffe of Morperland, under
whose care Hilda slowly began to mend.
1t was while Andrew was away at the
banks-the Doctors comforting assur-
ances for company-that the truth strip
ped itself before Hilda, to torture and
af1ict her with its mocking ghastliness.
As yet she was not able to leave her
bed, but lay there with pinched face, her
hair tangled on the pillows, her thin
blue fingers twitching idly at the garish
patchwork quilt, her eyes wandering to
the half open lattice through which was
borne the distant sough of the waves
and whence she could see their sun
fecked crests far out beyond the Fork
rocks. Then she would turn to answer
some question put her by her little niece,
Mary-Abel's eldest daughter, ''rising
1O"-who had crept into the sickroom.
Presently the little maid fell to bab-
bling, childlike, Of the doings and say
ings of her school friends.
"Aye, but ye'ill be gettin a fine
scholard. Mary" said Hilda. "Itwas a
guild thing for the weans when t. parson
opened school I wish it had been done
long SIM"
"It was our Examination today, re-
piled Mary. eager with fresh news.
"Mr. Harvey heard me read an patted
me O. the head. Out of newspaper
hard ords they was too
IAN maybe we can read writin,
Mary?"
"Oh, yes," said she, nowise disposed
to belittle her attainments. when you
get any letters, Aunt Hilda, I'll read
them all through to you-every word.
I'm sure could"
"Well, I'm going to try ye," said
Hilda smilingly. 'Now, open that
drawer. No, the second one, an bring
the little black box to me- Yes, that is
it"
Tenderly picking out the finery with
which the box was filled, Hilda placed
the various articles by her side on the
bed. Underneath, untouched since that
day, lay the very letter which had told
her its sad tale through Andrews
mouth.
"Now, what name's that?" said she,
pointing to the signature
Mary screwed her eyes into beads,
hung her head sapiently on one side and
spelled the words under her breath.
"B-e-n, Ben; Webb, Webb" she
announced at last, with ring of tri-
umph. ''It's ain bad writin, butt
"No, nol'' cried Hilda, rising excit
edly upon her elbow. ''Not Ben-Ben
Webb Are you sure, Mary?"
"B-e-n, Ben; Webb, Webb" re-
peated her niece
Hilda sent up choking cry. "He
said it came fro Captain Worsley," she
CALCULATED gaspingly. "He lied to me.
It's fro Ben. Ben isn't deadP Her
whole frame a-tremble, she turned to
Mary with: "Begin at the first. Read
it all to me. Can ye, can ye?"
Mary at all events was willing to try,
and although she blundered often and
painfully under the task between them
they managed to piece ithe words into
sense
''Dear Hilda, it ran, "I didn t mean
to say word, but can't do it without
telling you first. Don't hate me, for
did love you and do, more nor her. Any
ways you can't say didn't tell you all
about Polly Barclay-how we was to be
married and how it was broke off.
Well, mo and her have made it up
again. Her uncle's dead and left her
everything-his three houses and e4OO
in the bank You see, didn't have
free hand, SO you can't blame me. Be
sides there's Andy Copley only too
glad to have you, and the banns has
been read twice in Grimsby church. ]
think things are best left alone, and no
fuss made, especial as don't ask the
presents back, not
Mary had plodded through the letter
so far when Hilda, with loud shrek,
dropped back upon her pillow. Abel and
his wife hastened up stairs to find her
again sitting up in bed, round eyed and
gesticulating with her clinched fists.
81 might ha' won him back-I would
ha'," she cried shrilly. ga lie, Andrew
Copley 1t was lie!'
In this fashion she raved all through
the night and long into the next day.
DR.. Ratcliffe said it was brain fever,
and although he eventually brought her
back to bodily health her mind never
recovered its sanity.
u 4
Poor Hilda! She knows not that for
the bread she eats for the shelter above
her head, for the very clothes upon her
back, she is beholden to the man whom
she for 40 years past has daily exc
Grated.
'She never sees me but she throws
them awful words i my face" said
Andrew to me- 81 thowt I were actin
for t. best when did as did thowt
SO truly
81 suppose you have never met this
Ben Webb since?''
''Oh, but I haze. went to Grimsby
O. purpose to spoil his beauty. If he's
livin now, he's livin wi the nose O.
him all askew. That prank cost me a
week O. Jail, but I'd stand hundred
years O. lookup for the comfort that job
gave me. "--Chambers' !-..s'
Of late years the rigors of perfunctory
mourning have been greatly modified.
There is little heard nowadays of how
IL ,4o- h.