Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1895-11-28

yard through the long summer twi-
lights, and when he came in to supper
his feet dragged YEARLY, and his eyes
were dull with misery.
you should not grieve So" said
Hepzibah softly, one night after sup
per. She was knitting in the fire
light: her head was bent over her
work
Tom woke as from a dream; he
| looked at her with seeing eyes.
"Ah, it's we'll to say that to a man
whose heart is breakingr'
His voice grew husky; he turned
his head away to the fire.
But you shouldn't grieve as one
without hope. Time must soften
things bit-you have your life before
you"
Tom laughed a short, bitter laugh
not good to hear
''She was all had-my Nelly. The
apple Of my eye What goods life to
me now? Such pretty ways she had.
too" he went or musingly; "such ten
der, loving ways
Hepzibah's needles flashed in the
freight
There are other women in The world
as fond as Nelly" she said softly, with
her eyes on her knitting.
There was long silence in the
room. The fire f1ickered; a cinder fell
on the hearth. Hepzibah could hear
her heart-throbs; she slowly lifted her
eyes to the mans face.
He was not looking at her at all, but
at china shepherdess upon the little
table against the wall His eyes were
troubled he was trying to remember.
my Nelly did not keep that oil
there. No, it was on the mantelpiece,
here, that she had it,
He brought the ornament over, dust
ing it with his handkerchief.
eve must keep the things as she left
them, Hepzibah," he said. But Hepzi-
bah had slipped out of the door into
the summer darkness.
She rested her arms on the little
gate, and stood looking far out to sea.
Her face shone white and ghostly in
the dimness. She shivered in the
warm air
"YOu dead woman-you Nelly" she
whispered tensely, "why will you not
give him up to me? You have your
Jack, you do not want him-and I
OH my Godr'
A great fearless sob choked her; the
shimmering waves Knocked her; her
face hardened
''Why should I not tell him? I shall
do you no harm. God, the life be-
yond-are these anything but words?
How can one hurt the dead? You are
asleep in the churchyard there; and I
love him-I tell you I love him.
The man was sitting smoking mood
lily, gazing into the glowing fire, when
Hepzibah glided in, and stood behind
his chair.
tom, 1 can't bear that you should
grieve so. She wasn't worthy of a
love like yours
'Hepzibahr'
He turned his chair quickly and
faced her. She shrank into the
shadow
81 have thought you ought to know
=" she faltered, because I can't bear
to her you spoilin' your life for love of
her-her who did not love you at all,
but Jack"
Her voice was frmer now, she
locked and unlocked her hands behind
her
woman! What do you mean?
What lies are you telling me?"
He had sprung to his feet, and came
toward her threateningly. She raised
trembling hand to keep him off.
cts true Don't you remember her
calling out about the letters the night
she died? She gave me packet
Jacks letters to her"
my Cod Give them to mel
She fumbled in the breast of her
blue gown.
"You must not mind so much, Tom.
There's many a giddy girl been false
to her good man before now, and a
fond, steady woman has come along to
make him happy after ALL"
"The lettersY'
Hepzibah laid the packet on the
table and crept away up the staircase
to her room. She fell on her knees
by the bedside, clutching the coverlet
tight over her mouth, that her deep
voiced prayer might be stifled. She
shook as with an ague. The gates of
heaven and hell we're open.
The still hours passed by. Night
waned, but Hepzibah, wide-eyed and
numb. crOuched by her bed, straining
her ears for any sound from the room
below. Anything, anything but this
deadly silence! The hours seemed
eternities.
An hour before dawn came the
sound of a chair scraping on the
tagged floor; he had risen. She held
her breath to listen. The drawers
were opened and shut; his footsteps
echoed to and fro. Then silence, and
the scratching Of pen.
1t grew unbearable. Disheveled,
wan. fearful, she crept down the stairs
and peered in.
Tom Thurgood sat at the table, writ
ing by the dim candle light. He had
on his rough pilots coat; bundle tied
in a red handkerchief rested beside
him.
Hepzibah's broken cry aroused him.
He rose and came toward her.
I'm going away-back to sea again"
he said gravely. you're welcome to
the cottage and the bits of furniture
There's no homo for me now-the