Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1900-02-23
CHATTER Ill.
WAS ~ A GuosTt

With a sense Of fright aud rrcrrancy
imprllug him. Tom BroNlon deserted
his h,,l AT a hound. to stand. dazed aud
trembling. amid the familiar surround
ings of his own bedroom.
Had hr dreamed the uttcrInce. or
had the rrprnach been whispered into
his >lumhrr dullrd ears 10y voice of
mortal or spirit: lie passed his hand
rapidly over his hcwildprcd brow and
tried To- pierce the encircling gloom
with startled eyes. Was il part of
his Authorization that the gloom in
creased aS he stood and stared:
y dim. faint radiance seemed 10 re-
ccdc slowly from him. leaving his cham
her in the absolute darkness that had
CnShTincd il when lac retired. Present
ly everything came back To him the
utter WEAKNESS that had uvertakcn
him when the minister's momutonous
droning of his fathers summarized
merits had come 10 an end; his sickcn-
ing sense OF the futility of all the
wordy condolences pressed upon his
shrinking ears: his longing To Ice alone
and in utter darkness. alone with his
grief. yelled 10y friendly darkness; his
turning away with SENSE of dismal
relief from the ncighbOr crowded par
lorS and halls conscious of having paid
the last outward show of respect To the
only friend the world held for him.
Even Olivia Matthews had been an
unwclcome intruder upon his solitude
when, with sweet womanlincSS that
quantity crowned her childish head,
she had followed him up stairs with Il
mothcrly injunction about not sleeping
in n draft and had placed on table
10y his bedside the cup of tea she had
brought him herself. ollie was not
much given to serving others. and even
in his exquisite anguish Tom realized
this unusual element in her lowering
attitude.
Had he ever shown her the grace of
a word of thanks He could not recol
leCt The awful irrcVocahlencSs Of his
parionlcSs future. had swallowed UP
thought for anything else.
y portrait of his father stood on an
easel in one corner of his room. He
had knclt before it as soon as ollie
had left him and communicated the de
sire of his lonely young heart to the ia
thcr who had been father, mother,
sister and brother to him.
Il should like SO to carry out your
slightest wishes about everything, ia
thcr. if only you had waited for my
coming If it is permitted the angels to
stoop to poor mortality guide me still
so that may not miss the turning iq
the road that shall finally bring You
and me together again"
That had been his last thought be
fore falling into a sleep of utter eX-
hauStiUn. 1t was his first recurrent
one as he stood bordering his sudden
awakening. The easel that held his ia
TIERS portrait was hidden from him by
posted hcdstcad. How long he had
slept he could not compute.
ON retiring he had topped his bed
room candle with the eXtinguisher and
had excluded every ray of light from
the moon flooded world by drawing
the heavy broCatelle curtains. His eye
balls We're hot and swollen with the
tears that lay too deep to moiSten his
dry lids.
In the first second of his startled
a
the dim light that pervaded his large
room briefly nor upon its gradual with
dra wal. He was wide awake now and
self rcproachful. He had fully meant
only to take. a short. needful rest be
fore joining the watchers down stairs
He had thrown himself upon his bed
half dressed He lighted his candle
now and passed beyond the high
carved foOtboard. He would look once
more upon the dear, familiar face from
which h" had drawn strength and in
SEPARATION all the days of his short life.
Conscience Smote him for a coward.
He had purpoSely turned himself on
retiring so that he should not see even
the pointed tips of the easel that held
the portrait.
Death is very awe inspiring to the
young and the lusty. The revolt against
it is natural and strong. 1t is only as
we grow older and the prizes we have
failed to grasp show their tinScl side
that we come to think of the great
Mower and his personal attitude with
"A friendly tolerance born of sense of
the inevitable.
The boys ut Andover college would
have stared and perhaps protested to
hear Tom BroXton called Il coward
Among his fellows he was esteemed
one who was not Il provolier of quar-
rclS. but quite incapable of quailng in
the face of danger.
AID yet with his first glance toward
the easel that held his fathers portrait
he recoiled with an audible cry of ter
ror, but only for a second. Then he
advanced reSolutely toward it.
The easel was not as it had been when
he fell asleep. Dropping over the
| broad calm brow of the pictured face
| it h"ld was IA bunch of white cosmos
flowers prccariously clinging to the
frame of the portrait by a twisted stem
or two. Tom touched the flowers with
a skeptic finger. Were they real or a
part of his troubled fancy? They fell
to the floor at his touch, and from
about the green stems Il twisted paper
uncoilcd in their descent. He stopped
and picked the paper up.
Some one of his many kindly inten
toned friends had stolen in with flow
erS and more empty words of condo
lencc, he told himself, and held the pa
per behind his candle. Again that low
suppressed cry of terror from the boy:
startled lips!
Whoever had woven that loosel,