Tazewell Republican. [volume] (Tazewell, Va.) 1892-1919, 1897-09-02
mo trouble at all" answered Walter.

mo trouble at al" answered Walter.
81 was thinking of running UP to say
good-by. start for Greece tomorrow"
"Greece?" Lucille sat down in the big
armchair rather suddenly. She felt a
little faint. "They're-they' fighting
there. It's dangerous isn't it?" she
asked.
"a correspondent has to take chances
you know. It's good thing-as far as
money is concerned, and 1 dare say I'll
get through all right; if not" he
laughed.
Lucille was not looking at him. She
stared down the street at forlorn little
Italian girl who was dancing to tho
music of a hand organ. docs Grace
Merton know you are going?" she asked.
"No--yes-I don't know whether she
does or not. Ipresume Whitley will tell
her tonight. What difference does that
make?"
81 thought you were engaged to her"
"Well, I'm not" said Hammond.
bluntly. lie hesitated moment. 'I'll
tell you a secret. You can keep it,
guess, and it's coming out next month,
anyhow She's been engaged to Burt
Whitley for two years, but they wanted
to keep it quiet until she was 21."
Lucille sat silent, twisting her hands
together. He looked down at her
flushed and changing face. "0f course,
if there was anyone that cared for that
cared enough for me to ask me to stay,
it would be different" he said. after
all, money isn't everything; and 1 can
earn enough now so it wouldn't be nee
essary-that is, if anyone cared"
He stood quiet for moment. Luciie's
eyes were still staring down the dusty
street, at the hand organ and the dane
ing girl. Hammond held out his hand.
"Good-by Lucille" he said.
"Good-by," she answered, just touch
ing his warm hand with the tips CT her
cold little fingers.
Hammond went downstairs and fin
ished packing. He looked ovQ' his let
tiers and burned them, and sorted out his
photographs. After all, he might never
come back again-and after all, what
did it matter? He was going home to
say good-by to his father and mother
that night, but it still lacked an hour
of train time. Our specia, correspon-
dent" sat down and stared gloomily out
of the window. The notes &C piano
came from the upstairs room.
An old tune, with a quaint refrain.
He hardly noticed it at first, but by tie
grees the melody penetrated his senses,
She was singing, too. He smil5d bitter
~ to himself as he listened.
Gould you come back to me- Douglas.
IN the old likeness that l knew,
I would be faithful, so faithcul
Douglas, Douglas, tender and true
Three times Lucille repeated the re-
frain, with strange persistency. Her
voice trembled and grew husky at last;
The notes on the printed sheet before
her were seen through a veil of tears.
Then her hands came down upon the
keys with q discordant crash, and the
music was ended. The girl buried herface
in the pillow of the old-fashioued sofa
and sobbed wildly. Her pitiful attempt
at reconciliation was ended. and moth
ing now was left.
Some one, coming into the room soft
ly, found her there, and gathered the
pitiful, disconsolate little figure in his
arms.
Darling" he whispered, "our mn
sic has been at cross purposes all these
months. Shall We try playing together
now?"
And Lucille nestled her head content
edly down in his coat collar and whis-
pered: Eyes. "-Peterson's Magazine.