The Portland daily press., 1895-06-08

yard away to say:
'Is there nothing I can do fer you,
Miss Powell?'
Anne hid herself in the depths of her
sunbonnet before she answered, ''Noth-
g-unless-please see about the pass.
1 want to get home without fail /"
Colonel Grice disappeared. In three
minutes he came back, laid folded pa
per in her hands, and said, smiling
family: 'There is the first fruit of 10y
atty, Miss Powell. A special safe con-
duct that will pass the bearer through
any Federal picket line"
Anne.fung back her bonnet, sprang
upright, faced him with flashing eyes,
cried out as she threw the paper at his
feet: 81 am not loyal. hate the whole"
then, paling to the lips, "but-but
have sworn-I observation-disclosures for
give my rudeness-sir, know l ought
to-thank you. You meant to be kind. !"
With that she bent humbly, picked
up the crulnpled pass and walked silent
ly toward the door. With her hand on
the knob, she turned to find Colonel
Grice at her elbow, his face even more
disturbed than her own. His pallid fin
gers fell hard over her slim brown ones
as he said very low:
Promise, please, not to hate me-
That was the last thing about the day
that Anne remembered clearly. Dream
lily she knew afterward that a sense of
slipping away into black unknown
depths came over her; that she came
out of them week later to find herself
safe at home, with Caroline lamenting
in her ear that it had not been her lot
to go take the oath, faint twice and be
picked up by the handsome Yankee
colonel. He was certainly smitten. That
was Caroline's deliberate Judgment, for
had he not sent an orderly with escort
every day since to find out Anne's state
fof health? More, had he not put at the
family DOCTORS disposal all the riches
of the army medicine chest?
"And it," said Miss Caroline, she
does as much for Anne, what wouldn't
he have done if he had just got sight of
me?"
For that problem Anne had no ready
answer. Indeed she grew so white and
wild eyed at Caroline's chatter that her
mother strenuously forbade further men,
ton of anything that had led up to
Anne's illness. Inevitably, though, the
girl heard often of Colonel Grice, for in
this land of uncertainty all the talk was
OF war. Vaguely, with grotesque distor-
lions, all the titanic happenings of the
time sifted through breaks in the lines
to north or south, It turned out, after
all, that enforced loyalty had not done
much for communication, though GER
tainly it fostered trade Newspapers
were still contraband of war, even those
SUPERFICIAL sheets which saw in Hooker's
recoil from the Wilderness "a strategic
triumph of Federal arms. !" The south
bound train brought such journals to the
folk at headquarters The rest fed on
rumors, save when now and then some
venturous trader, coming back from
Louisville Or Cincinnati struggled a
news sheet through in ambush of the
breast pocket If he dared further to
pass it through the picket line, it was
literally read to pieces-passed from
house to house with the best speed of
horse and man.
And everywhere crowd listened to
It's reading, sometimes with sobs often
or with set teeth and eyes that flashed de-
liant denial to each prophecy Of Federal
success, immediate or ultimate Hope
full faith in their cause, their leaders,
was to these simple souls religion.
II to wise grayheads, how much more
to poor Anne! As spring went on to
summer she sat through the long days,
her heart riotous with impatience for
the coming in of her own. She choked
sometimes at the thought that she had
forfeited her right to welcome them.
Enforced though it was, she felt bound
by the oath until the Confederacy's tri-
umph should make it null and void.
Only thus could her soul be freed from
this prison of her own building. 1t was
pltlful to see her put aside the knitting,
the spinning ''for Jack, - to hear her
say, with catch in her breath. "Moth-
er-give me your work. cannot dc
mine any more. jack is-my enemy, but
maybe you will send'-
eyes, yes, daughter, never fear.
Mother knows what you want and will
do it," Mrs. Powell said soothingly as
she took out of her daughters sight the
warm home wrought garments whose
every fiber enmeshed loving thought of
the destined wearer. She honored her
child s keen conscience. Caroline laugh
ed at it. cannes just like father, and
everybody knows he's worse than Don
Quixote," she oonfded to Cousin Tom
Gregory, now habitue of the house.
'She's foolish, I must say" Mr..
Gregory admitted, IAN must say fur
sher, Cousin Carrie, it's aggravatin. Eff
she wuz only like you, now, why, your
father an me could run this county to
suit ourselves while Colonel Grice staid
here, an that will be till the war is
over. He don't get er bit better. Will
never be fit for active service, the doc
tor says. An he's just plumb crazy about
Anne. Why, his breath gets short, an
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