The Somerset reporter., 1898-10-06
THE COMING HORSE.

The curate sat in old Mr. Robson IS
chintz covered armchair, nodding now
and then as the mistress of the farm
paused in her outburst of excited speech
He was married and the father of ten
children, but bourgeois youthful affeo-
tations still hung thick about him, for
instead Of leaving 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
punctuated with many sweetly pref
ties" and "passionately fonds," with
al 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 re-
quest, 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 courtesy since her
marriage to a man aged enough to have
been her father.
She was slightly incoherent in her re-
he understood.
Really, Mrs. Robson" he said gen
thy at last. cit is a most painful case
Yes, thank you, another cup OF tea
three Jumps, yes; | have sweet tooth.
OF course think that you should have
consulted me before, when Hannah was
in better health, and then l could have
admonished her. Now we can only pray
But none the less it is our bounden duty
to tell her that she should wrest her af-
fections from all unworthy worldliness
and look up to the skies, whence com
fort
Mrs. Robson face had grown cold
and hard, heavy perspiration shone
on her forehead.
II didna mean that, she said, "when
/ sent for yo' | thowt that yo' would
understand. IT'S O. Squire Amberstone' s
son as l wished to ask. My wench is
dyin. All as | beg is as he may COON
oncet again, ridin on his bay, an gi'
her kind word" She softened sudden
ly. "Oh, Mr.. Fryston, for tn love O.
God, do this thing for me. Twas bu'
boy an girl playin at love- Theer was
no thowt O. ILL., My dowter's as pure an
good as chrisom child, bu' what wi
him was just laugh an a jest Wi tn
prettiest girl on tn country side, wi
her meant NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS. I've no
blame for him, blu he's broken her heart
clean j. twain An only today has hoe
told me all what hoo's suffered. "
"You were much to blame, said the
bal HI g
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 laughter. "Mr
Fryston, she said hoarsely, I'm a
clean minded woman, all Hannah scarce
II. thowt nothin o. it. He were wisest
O. us all, for he must ha' seen danger,
an he staid away, an three months has
killed her.
IL can do Notwithstanding, began
the ourate.
AYE, bu' yo' can" she walled,
"Yo' know what love is. Fetch him to
her for a goodby. Hoo Gamma pass i
peace wi att him. Hoo's my only one
my only one. "
The curate was touched at last He
rubbed the corner of his more suscepti-
BILE eye furtiyely. "Ill go to Paulton
and bring him back if | can, " he said,
tomorrow y
""Tis o. no use sayin tomorrow, "
she interrupted impatently Hoo may
pass at any moment. 'Tis bu' 4 O'Clock,
an tbs tn last thing my wench IL ever
want.
The sound Of knocking on the floor
above stopped her. Hannah S walked, "
she said. There's ovid Lizbeth beating
the planks wi stick l nun leave yo',
Mr.. Fryston. know as yo' wunna fail
me-"
She did not wait for his reply, but
hurried up stairs to the chamber where
Hannah lay in little bed afront the
hearth. The mother had been pretty in
her youth-indeed she was not income
ly even now-but the daughter was
wonderfully, piteously beautiful Her
face was pure white, save for the dain-