The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1896-10-28

ing seemed real to him but that.
Hepzibah watched him from under
her white eyelashcs, and kept silent;
but his pipe was always ready for him
when he came indoors, and bis favortte
food simmered on the hob.
Hepzibah's hair grew brighter as the
days went on; her cheeks had comely
flush; she began to take thought OF her
dress. She bought blue gingham
gown in the village, and muslin hand
kerchief for her neck. Her voice took
softer note, she began to sing about
her work.
But Tom would sit in the churchyard
through the long summer twilights,
and when he came in to his supper his
feet dragged YEARLY, and his eyes were
dull with misery.
"You should not grieve So" said Hep
zibnh, softly. one night after supper.
She was knitting in the freight; her
head was bent over her work.
Tom woke as from a dream; he looked
at her with unseeing eyes.
"Ah, it's well to say that to man
whose heart is breaking!"
His voice grew husky, he turned
away his head to the fire.
"But you shouldn't grieve as one
without hope. Time must soften things
a bit-you have your life before you."
Tom laughed short, bitter laugh,
not good to hear.
'She was all had-my Nellie. The
apple of my eye. What goods life to
me now? Such pretty ways she had,
too," he went on musingly; "such low
ing, tender ways"
Hepzibah's needle flashed in the fire.
light.
There are other women in the world
as fond as Nellie" she said. softly, with
her eyes on her knitting.
There was long silence in the room.
The fire flickered; 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, out
at china shcpherdess upon the little
table against the wall. His eyes were
troubled, he was trying to remember.
my Nellie did not keep that on there.
No, it was on the mantlepiece, here,
that she had it,"
He brought the ornament over, dust
ing it with his handkerchief.
1--WE must keep the things as she left
them, Hepzibah," he said. But Hep
zibah 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 sbivered in the warm
air.
-sXou dcau wOmau--you NeIIIe," 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 God!"
A great fearless sob choked her; the
shimmering waves Knocked her; her
face hardened.
"Why should not tell him! shall
do you no harm. How can one hurt the
dead! You are asleep in the church,
yard; and love him-I tell you love
him!"
The man was sitting smoking mood
lily, gazing into the glowing fire, when
Hepzibah glided in and stood behind his
chair.
TON, can't bear that you should
grieve so. She wasn't worthy of love
like yours"
"Hepzibah!"
II have thought you ought to
know" she faltered, because 1 can't
bear to see you spoilin' your life for
love of her-her who did not love YOU at
all, but Jack"
woman! what do you mean? What
lies are you telling me?"
Its true. Don't you remember her
calling out about the letters the night
she died? She gave me a packet
jacks letters to her."
'My God! Give them to mel"
'You must not mind so much, Tom"
"The letters!"
Hepzibah laid the packet on the table,
and crept away up the staircase to her
room.
The still hours passed by. Night
waned, but Hepzibah, wild-eyed and
numb. crouched by the bed, straining
her ears for any sound from below.
An hour before dawn came the sound
of chair scraping on the tagged floor;
then drawers were opened and shut;
his footsteps echoed to and fro. Then
silence and the scratching of pen.
It 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. He rose and came towards her.
I'm going away-bacll to sea again."
he said grayely "Yo,l're welcome IN