The Press., 1894-12-06
"But we won't %. "s she began again

But we won't go. she began again, her courage. Brother Simon would turn right over in his coffin to think of our going to such place. Wild horses can't draw us. Sister and will stay in bed and let him get Of icers if he can to set us and our things out by the side of the road. He may starve us if he wants to. We won't go and be inmates of Marm Brittan's old house." and Miss Prissy clutched the bedpost with nervous vigor. I've know better what belongs to us as Hinghams. 7
 Elsie patted and kissed her old friend, who was like an obstinate, self willed baby, impossible to reason with. Miss Hetty was still extinguished under the bedclothes, and Elsie heard her saying her prayers: Lord, have mercy! O| Lord, have mercy" When she tried to go away, Miss Prissy caught hold of her gown as last defense, but at last she had cAressed and coaxed her into d little quietness. She found Hapgood in the kitchen, where the fire had died away. standing before the great empty fireplace.
 II am hungry as bear, !" said he, looking at his watch. Are we to have no dinner?''
 Elsie glanced at him meditatively as if examining him from head to foot 'Not unless you leave me to do my work in peace. l will not lift a hand if you stay around here. ''
 ''So we have not made up our little quarrel, it seems. You are still disposed to be cross and ill natured. You ought to know, Elsie, that it does not improve your beauty.
 My beauty is nothing to you," said Elsie, tossing her head.
 "What has got into all the women! They are behaving like the very deuce, muttered Arthur as he betook himself to the sitting room, where he whistled. drummed on the pane and looked out at the blowing trees and drifting clouds. In silence Elsie prepared the meal and made ready the tray for the poor old women, who were still crying and strengthening each other ill the deter imitation not tG rise. It was a slow, wretched, heavy day, as distorted and unnatural as nightmare In the after noon, to escape from Hapgood, Elsie took refuge with the calves and sheep on the hill, where her pet lamb Topsey thrust her black nose into her hand and looked at her with sympathetic eyes. Arthur Hapgood meantime wandered over the house from garret to cellar, cal culating the changes he would make and the probable cost and jotting down figures in a pocket diary.
 Elsie waited upon MT. Hapgood at supper in almost total silence She placed lamp iE the sitting room, at tended to the old ladies wants for the night and saw them drop off and lose their troubles in quiet sleep, washed the tea things, put out the fire and closed the kitchen and then went to her own room She could hear Arthur Hap good still wandering restlessly about the premises, and once he came to the stair foot and called her, but she kept still as little mouse and did not an swer. She sat by the window of her room, where the moonlight began to steal in across the uncarpeted floor. Her few gowns, hung on nails against the low sloping wall behind her little bed, made dark shadowy corner, but the chest of drawers, with its rustic orna- ments, tho small looking glass and 8 the splendor of the unclouded moon just at the full.
 Elsie's view was up the high pasture toward the way of the woods. As she sat there she thought of Paul lurking in the tall ferns under the helnlocks waiting to hear the whippoorwill's s call. Her curly head rested against the wal by the side of the window. Her fingers were locked together, and her heart was disgusted within her. She remembered a little prayer her mother had taught her long years ago and whispered it for Paul and the poor old women and her self. The night was warm and pro- foundly still. Not leaf moved on the trees; not bird chirped in the bushes. There was faint twinkle of cowbells and the bleating of lambs in a distant pasture. =
 Suddenly, as if by magic, the scene changed. She was no longer gazing up the steep moonlighted pastures listen ing to the cattle bells in the dewy grass and thinking of Paul. She was not even in her familiar little room under the sloping roof, but was in Uncle Sis chamber, just as she bad seen it the other night in her dream, with the white bed, and the eoyerlid drawn over the pillows, and the streak of moonlight stretching across the floor, with its braided rugs. On the chimney piece lay Uncle Sis great silver watch and the we'll thumbed family Bible. As she looked quite speHbound with surprise she saw Uncle Si dressed precisely as in life, in his brown clothes and broad brimmed hat. She saw him turn toward her pale, deathlike countenance, the mouth drawn with pain, the eyes very sad. He motioned to her to come near CT, but she stood transfixed with fear, cold and clammy ill every limb. Slowly again he opened that closet door in the corner of the room where the mourning piece hung, and where Elsie knew there was only solid wall took out a bundle of papers which he held toward her.
 Then the strange picture vanished. Elsie came to herself, with gasp and stifled cry of fright. She had been asleep she knew not how long, with her head resting against the wall Her neck felt