The Columbia herald. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 18??-1935, 1897-02-19
softer note. She b

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
Hepzibah 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 we'll 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 a 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 -
Hepzibah' s needles 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 a long silence in thereon.
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 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.
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 OH 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 Godw
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 churchyard,
and l love him-I tell you love himP'
The man was sitting, smoking mood
lily, gazing into the glowing fire when
Hepzibah glided in and stood behind
his chair.
tom, can't bear that you should
grieve so. She wasn't worthy of love
like yours.
"Hepzibahp'
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?'
Its true. Don't you remember her
calling out about the letters the night
she died? She gave me packet-Jack' 8
letters to her. "
my Godl Give them TO mer'
"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 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 candlelight. He had on
his rough pilots coat. A 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 ses
again." he said gravely. You're vel
come to the cottage and the bits Of fur.
niture. There's no home for me now
the place would kill me. Get back tC
bed, woman. Goodby; there, gor'
He turned back to his writing, and
the room was quiet again. Presently hi
threw down his pen and passed his inky
fingers through his hair.
THE wind means terrible tonight, ,
he said.
Itwas Hepzibah above crying for hei
lost paradise. -Chapman's Magazine.