The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1897-10-27
HER CONFESSION.

Long after the speakers words had
died away the listening people waited
in hushed expectancy, unwilling to be-
lieve that he had finished and unable
to descend all at once from the heights
to which they had been raised.
John 0rdway and his wife came
from the chapel among the last. Both
had been strongly moved by the even
ing's sermon, but in different ways, in
dicative perhaps of their wide differing
temperaments.
Ordway helped his wife into the
wagon, the horses struck into swift
trot, and the driver leaned forward to
draw the rug more closely about his
companion, peering up into her face
solicitously.
They moved swiftly past the scatter
ed houses of the village and out into a
stretch of open country. Three or four
times the woman raised her head as
though about to speak, but checked
herself with an effort
al have something to tell you, John"
she said at last. I'll am afraid L
ought to have told you long ago."
"Are you sure you ought?" he asked
gently. MAYBE there amt any need
of it."
"There is a need" she answered. al
have known all along that it would be
better to speak out, but somehow L
never felt that could until tonight"
She paused as though to gather cour-
age. ats about myself and Willis"
she said. "You remember"
Ordway bent forward suddenly with
a warning shout to the horses and the
wagon jolted heavily in deep rut.
That's me all over" he said, with a
chuckle. al took special notice of that
hole SO as to skip it on the way home,
and here Pm driving right into it
again, like an old fool. That's what
comes of listening to sermons you can't
quite understand"
"Won't you listen to me John?' his
wife asked pleadingly.
"Ofcourse | WILL" he answer, "only
my nerves bein' so wrought up Pm
sort of afraid to have any big shock
come on me sudden"
Ordway put his arm around her and
drew h II closer To him protectingly, as
a mother soothes a nervous, sleepy
child.
al wasn't jokin'," he said. 'Pm
always glad to listen to you, only L
think you'd best wait till We get home.
We are most there now."
$50 in by the fire." said John Ord
way, when at length they ratified into
the farmyard. "It'll take me some
time to fix things up"
But when he came from the stable,
he found her waiting, leaning against
one of the square posts of the porch and
looking out across the darkness of the
valley.
al wanted to wait until We could go
in together" she said.
The long, low kitchen was full of
changing shadows which danced across
the time polished floor, and lost them
selves in the corners of the ceiling,
when Ordway crossed to the huge fire.
place and pied some sticks Of soft
wood on the glowing ashes.
AT length she spoke slowly and with
| evident effort at calmness.
"You must try TO be patient with
me,n she said. "You will be astonish-
ed, know, and am afraid you'll be
angry-and | couldn't blame you-but
I-I--want you to wait till have
finished"
She hesitated as if TO gain strength,
and he marked how the slender figure
auivered with the effort of her hurried
breathing.
II had promised to marry Willis be-
fore / knew you," she said, unsteadily.
ave quarreled about some little thing,
and each was too proud to speak first.
Finally he went away without seeing
me. You know how we heard that he
died in Africa. I believed tive all
did-ind / cried myself to sleep night
after night because 1 hadn't acted diff
ferently.
"As time went on began to forget,
little by little, and after a while it all
seemed like sort of dream.
'sThen you came into my life and
taught me to trust you and turn to you
for help in everything. And, in truth,
/ loved you more than you could ever
understand" Her voice trembled.
"You believe me, John?" she asked.
''Say that you do believe me-"
az amt never doubted" he answer
ed softly.
al was happy and contented for two
long years. 1t was like heaven, and
you were happy, too, john"
"Happyw he said. "Ah, yes! No.
body'll ever know how happy"
"And then little Dora was born, v
she went on, ''and somehow all oui
trouble began right there, for 1t seem
| ed as if her baby hands took hold o
our hearts and pushed them apart, q
little at first and then more and more
"Well, things got worse and worse
and when she died 1 almost believet
you were to blame in some way
don't know how. On, it's awful I
| think about, but couldn't help feel