The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1897-12-22


solicitude which suggested womanly
sense that a man is bat poor helples,
creature after all.
1t was dull, chilly evening wher
'Tilda's short-lived spell of happiness
came Oan end. Tilda bad east many
anxious glances at the sky, fearing lest
rain should drive her to take Billy in.
doors. But the singer came first, and
it seemed TO Tilda that his voice wa:
more wonderful than it had ever been
before. He sang on and on, with only
the shortest pauses, in which he did
not seem inclined for conversation,
and at last he stopped abruptly.
"I'm giving you the whole lot to-
day." he said. AZ shan't be here again
yet"
The light went out OF 'Tilda's face,
and she stood gazing at him over Bill
ly's fiabby person with wide eyes. She
did not speak.
"Tm restless" he said, and an odd,
wild gleam lie up his eyes. "rm
going round the country for a bit--sea-
side. -
Still 'Tilda did not speak. Her lips
were quivering little. He spoke im-
patiently, but whether the impatience
was for her or for himself might have
been a nice question.
"Come, Gomez he said. ''You
mustn't take it to heart l shall come
back and sing to you again, you know,
and you must be a brave little soul
and keep up your heart See?"
'Tilda nodded. The conditions OF
her life had stunned all idea of lamen-
tation or appeal in her, and she made
no protest now. But she sat down
suddenly on a doorstep, and with one
glance at her he began to sing. When
he had finished he turned TO her.
Nov must go,'' he said. Good
bye for the present, little thing. He
hesitated a moment. lhen he held
out his hand, and she1aid her small
fingers in it.
you'll mind your coaghg" she said
family and appealingly. And he went
away.
In the unbroken discord and ugli-
ness Of the days and weeks that fol-
lowed, the misery of her life closed
round 'Tilda like dense fog Of despair.
Whether matters had really grown
worse during that fortnight, or wheth-
er the temporary tightening of her
wretchedness made it seem worse now
| that the darkness had settled down
again, she did not try to decide. But
as the winter drew on there is no doubt
whatever that all her troubles were
very definitely aceentuated. rhe cold
weather came early, with bitter rain
and piercing winds. Summer in George
Street had been bad enough, but there
had at least been an outlet in the sum-
mer time. The whole Gilkes family
had seldom assembled under the roof,
except to sleep. 'TIlda herself could
escape from the vigorous tongue-and
hand-of her step-mother, if il were
only to overtax herself by carrying Billy
about. But now no such escape was
possible, unless accompanied by acute
physical discomfort. Even the wet
weather, however, was not so bad as
that which succeeded it-bIs K, biting
I frost.
The cold was such as had not been
known for years, and George Street
suffered acutely. Everyone was ouI
of work. There was very little food
very little fire.
November gave place to December,
and still the frost held. OF the singer
there came no sign. For many long
day and week 'Tilda had hoped ana
believed that he would come back, and
she had Ionged until her poor little
heart was sick with longing, 70 hear
his voice again. But as Christmas
drew nearer, bringing no touch Of the
Christmas spirit into her life, leaving
her outside all hope and happiness,
she sank into something like apathy
There was no help for her anywhere in
the world, she felt, dumbly; the singer
would never come back; and even
Christmas held nothing for her.
She had been sent one afternoon by
Mrs. Gilkes to see if she could get loal
of bread on credit from any of the
neighboring shops. She was return
ing empty-handed, with dragging, re
luctant steps, dreading the blows which
assuredly awaited her failure even more
than she dreaded the piercing cold
Her head was swimming a little; il
often did so in these days. And heI
ears were ringing With one of the
carols she had sung 50 often and 81
happily-the first verse over and owe
again:
"Hark, the herald angels sing,
Glory to the newborn King;
Peace on earthiand mercy mild,
God and sinners reconciled."
She turned corner and Suddenly
stopped abruptly, clasping her thin
blue hands sinvoIuntarily over her heart
The first verse of the carol was no long
er ringing in her ears But away il
the distance the second verse wa
rising:
mild, He lays His glory by;
Born that man no more may die;
Born to raise the sons of earth,
Born to give them second birth"
She was not far from George Street
A few moments headlong run, grow
ing swifter as the voice grew clearer
and she reached the corner.
There in the darkness of the winte
afternoon stood the singer.
'Tilda did not move when once he
eyes rested ON his figure. She wa
rather behind him. and she stood 70
! rionless, her hands tightly clasped, ne