The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1901-07-11


said / would marry you, and then re-
ceived the telegram five minutes later
telling me to get ready for my hus-
bands funeral?'
"He amt been your husband for IA
years." persisted Bennington Brush,
land, if he had, he's dead now, any
how, and they are a-bringin' him
home on the five o'clock, though what
in the world they are luggin' him
back to you for, after all these years,
is more than | can see"
Il Mrs Brewster shivered, although
the night was warm for September,
and wrapped her arms in her apron.
Pennington feared she was taking
cold, yet still he fingered.
"You don't feel-that is, you can't
make it seem right-to give me an
answer tonight, | suppose"'
"Indeed, l cannot, she said, with
curling lip. You ought to be
ashamed of yourself to press such
question on a woman looking for her
husbands remains to come over the
hill at any minute"
dumb him!" muttered Brush; "he
cut me out of an answer just this
way Is years ago, and made miser-
able man of me-
Not just this same way, Penning-
ton, Mrs. Brewster said, soberly
enough; but Pennington saw twin
kle in her eye. 1t made him savage.
"You care so little about him you
can make a joke of him, yet you hold
me at arms length on account of
him. / presume you will feel called
upon now to go into mourning for him
for a man who deserted you II
years ago and has never shown his
face since!"
Mrs. Brewster sighed.
81 suppose | ought" she ownes,
then looked apprehensively up the
lonely country road, where the sol
= amn load might now appear at any
time.
Pennington Brush turned on fis
heel
"If he had known that your grand
mother left you her property. and
that you came into possession last
week, he'd a-come back alive instead
Ol tine WAY ne - A'llli'lS liz N''N
mean enough" Then he relented,
Rose, let me stay in my old room in
the tower tonight, where | slept
when your grandmother lived here
alone. You will need me"
NO; you so along to your own bed
in the factory. Old Mr.. and Mrs. Por-
ter are coming. They'll he here in
mi on a Ion y
"Wcil, just as you say. Good night,
Rose"
He came towards her and awk-
vardly made a move rs though he
would kiss her. She shrauk back hor-
rified.
Bloomington Brush! And he com
ING over the hill yonder?'
Pennington looked quickly towards
the hill, but there was nothing in
sight save the bare summit and the
darkening sky above. He babe her
good night again and walked rapidly
away towards the cheese factory.
where, since Rose Brewster had taken
possession her grandmother's
home, he had slept in a little room
in the attic.
Rose watched him until he disap-
peared in the cheese factory door.
She shuddered again and went in to
take a look around at the stiff rooms,
doubly gloomy now, in anticipation
of the coming of the pale guest. Her
grandmother had been a penurious
old lady, and as yet Rose nad no OPP
portunity to introduce the little
honey touches with which woman
of her disposition inevitably sur
rounds herself. For Rose was a coy
little body, who had been cheated out
Of her birthright of love and domes-
Y tic happiness by an unfortunate mar
riage with a scamp. She was 40 now,
but comely and desirable, as Penning-
ton Brush knew to his sorrow.
When Pennington arrived at the
factory he determined to sit outside
and smoke until he heard old Mr.
Porter's buggy. The night was still,
and he was sure he could hear it
when it drove up to Roses door How
ever, as the old people were to stay
all night, they might take it into
their heads to walk across the fields
instead of driving around the road.
He decided they must have done so,
for soon he heard the wagon bearing
his old rivals body creaking over the
hill from the opposite direction. He
saw lights in the parlor windows aud
in the porch, and he knew by the
sounds that Rose was receiving her
runaway husband into her home
again after IA years.
A telegram had come the day be-
fore telling her he was dead, and his
last request had been that his body
should be sent to her for burial. 1t
II touched her deeply. TO think that she
had been upon the point of yielding
to Pennington Brushs repeated plead
ings the very hour she had received
the intelligence of Brewster's death
and his belated remembrance of her
self.