Middlebury register. (Middlebury, Vt.) 1886-1937, 1896-10-23

scent of the flowers in the little garden
below.
Nelie's big, sad eyes took in all the
beauty of the morning; then they gently
closed.
So Nellie Thurgood Tom Thurgood's
young wife, died and was buried in the
little churchyard by the sea, and the
tide came in and the tide went out
through the long summer days and
nights and peaceful order reigned in the
little cottage, for Hepzibah was nota-
BILE housekeeper, and Tom was grateful
to her in dull, impersonal way. His
heart was buried in newly made grave
on the cliff side, and nothing seemed
real to him but that.
Hepzibah watched him from under
her white eveashes and kept silent, but
his pipe was always ready for him
when he came indoors and his favorite
food simmered Oh the hob.
Hepzi bah S hair grew brighter as the
days went on Her cheeks had a comely
blush. She began to take thought of her
dress. She bought blue gingham gown
III the village and muslin handl1er-
chief for her neck Her voice took a
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 i'll to his supper his feet
dragged YEARLY, and his eyes were dull
with misery.
"You should not grieve so, said
Hepzibah softly one night after supper.
She was knitting in the freight Her
head was bent over her work.
Tom woke as from dream. He
looked at her with unseeing eyes
"Ah, it's well to say that to a 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
bit You have your life before you.
Tom laughed short, bitter laugh not
good to hear
''She was all l had-my Nellie-the
apple of my eye. What goods life to
me now? Such pretty ways she had,
tool" he went on musingly. "Such low
ing, tender ways -
Bepzibah' : needles flashed i'll 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 a long silence in the room.
The fire fickered A cinder fell on the
hearth. HepMbah could hear her heart
thrObs. She slowly lifted her eyes to the
man face.
He was not looking at her at all, but
at a china shepherdess 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 mantelpiece
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, epzibah, " 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 Nellie, - she
whispered tensely, why will you not
give him up to me? You have your
Jack. You do not want him-and L
oh, my God!'
A great fearless sob choked her The
shimmering waves Knocked her. Her
face hardened.
"Why should not tell him? l shall
do you no harm. How can one hurt the
dead? You are asleep in the churchyard
and love him-I tell you l love him!'
The man was sitting, smoking mood
lily, gazing into the glowing fire when
Hepzibah glided in and stood behind
his chair
tom, cant bear that you should
grieve so. She wasn't worthy of love
like yours.
"Hepzibah!"
81 have thought you ought to know"
she faltered, because can't bear to
see you spelling 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?"
II lluS' OOH you IciltuubtI HtI
calling out about the letters the night
she died? She gave me packet-Jack' 5
letters to her. 3"
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 a chair scraping on the tagged floor.
Then drawers We're opened and shut.
His footsteps echoed to and fro; then
silence and the scratching of pen.
1t grew unbearable. Disheveled, wan,