Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1898-12-17
THE COMING HORSE.

The curate sat in old Mr.. Robson 3
chintz covered arm chair, nodding
now and then as the mistress of the
farm paused in her outburst of ex-
cited speech. He was married and
the father of ten children, but bour.
geois youthful affectations still hung
thick about him, for, instead of leav-
ing his cup and saucer on the tray,
he held them in his lean white hands,
crooking his little fingers daintily,
while his speech was usually pune
tuated with many "sweftly pretties"
and "passionately fonds,'' withal
a good man, according to his lights,
and endowed with certain liking
of the dutiful in his fellow creatures.
He had come up by the widows
request, for her daughter was dying,
and she was too proud to speak of
her wild trouble to kinsfolk who
had never viewed her with any cour-
tesy since her marriage to a man
aged enough to have been her father
She was slightly incoherent in her
request for advice, but the curate
thought he understood.
"RealIy, Mrs. Robson" be said
gently at last, cit is most painful
case. Yes, thank you, another cup
of tea-three Jumps, yes; I have a
sweet tooth. OF course think that
you should have consulted me be-
fore, when Hannah was in better
health, and then | could have adj
monished her. Now we can only
pray. But none the less it is our
bounden duty 10 tell her that she
should wrest her affections from all
unworthy worldliness and look up
to the skies, whence COMFORT
Mrs. Robson's face had grown
cold and hard, heavy Precipitation
shone on her forehead.
ST didna mean that" she said,
"when I sent for yo'. I thowt that
yo' would understand. IT'S O. Squire
Amberstone's son as I wished to
ask. Ny wench is dyin'. All as /
beg is as he may COON oncet again,
ridin' on his bay, an' gil her a kind
word.' She softened suddenly.
"Ob, Mr.. Fryston, for th' love O.
God, do this thing for me. Twas
bu' boy and girl playin' at love.
Theer was no thowt O i'll. Ny
dowter's as pure an good as a
chrisom child, bu' what VII him was
just laugh an a jest wiz TIL prettiest
girl on tn country Iside, wi her
meant MISUNDERSTANDING. I've no
blame forahim, bu' he's broken her
heart clean i twain: An only to-
day has hoo told me all what hoo's
suffered"
"You were much to blame," said
the cnrate sententiously, balancing
his spoon on the rim OF the teacup,
Every much to blame
She clasped her hands and wrung
them painfully, SO that she might
not burst into hysterical daughter.
"Mr. Fryston," she said hoarsely.
I'm a clean minded woman, an
Hannah scarce II. l thowt nothin'
oft. He were wisest o. us all. for
he must ha' seen danger, an he staid
away, an three months has killed
herr
~ can do nothing-nothing," be-
gan the curate.
"Aye, bu' yo' cam" she walled.
"Yo' know what love is. Fetch him
to her for a goodby. Hoo Gamma
pass i peace what him. Hoo's my
only one-my only one."
The curate was touched at last.
He rubbed the corner of his more
susceptible eye furtively. "Ill go
to Paulton and bring him back if l
can" he. said, tomorrow"
"'Tiso' no use sayin' tomorrow"
she interrupted impatiently. Hoo
may pass at any moment. IT'S bu'
4 o'clock, an It's to- last thing my
wench II ever want"
The sound of knocking on the
floor above stopped her. "Hannah's
wakcd," she said. There's ovid
Lizabeth beating the planks VII a
stick. I nun leave yo', Mr.. Frys-
ton. know as yo' wunna fail me.
She did no. wait for his reply,
but hurried up stairs to the chamber
where Hanna lay ia a little bed
afront the hearth The mother had
been pretty in her youth-indeed
she was not uncomely even now
but the daughter was wonderfully,
| piseously beautiful. Her face was
pure white. save for tie daintiesi
husl in she checks; Ter lips were
scarlet huca and finely cut. her great
brown eyes luminous. She bad
snreadsher mt hrnwn hair over thf