The St. Louis Republic. [volume] (St. Louis, Mo.) 1888-1919, 1901-06-23

broths and buildings had become extremely
popular. and when I saw one child making
her way to our gate I remembered that
three others had been told to come on the
same GRAND and that each would probably
have a message for me. By the time I was
ready to start II was growing dark and the
wind was even keener than II had been
earlier. As l looked UP the hill the scarlet
light OF sunset dazzled me; the leafiess tree
branches looked black against the scarlet
ana orange, and. higher up. the primrose
tinted sky. This year the tree buds had
swelled prematurely. and as the branches
crossed. the black twigs standing out from
them looked double their natural size.
! shfvered and drew my cloak round me
as I went up the bit Of hill between the
rectory and the church.
told myself I was too late. II would not
90 Tor poor Stonor to come out and garden
In the keen wind. ! could rave planted the
pansies on the graves. but he might not
like me to offer to do this.
heard his hard cough a. I unattached his
garden gate. ! found him by his freside.
erouching a. though he felt the cold.
are packed In damp moss. n II I put the
basket in your shed I think they will be al!
right till tomorrow"
Don't you think I might set them to-
night. ma'am-whsn you've been SO very
kind - to bring them7 Besides. I've a feel
Ing It's not kind to the plants themselves
to keep their roots above ground" A fit of
coughing Interrupted him
I'm afraid you mustn't think OF going
out In this keen wind. I nave often fol-
lowed your advice. and now you will take
mine. Will you not? I'll come up to-mor-
row by daylight. and tell you their names
a. you plant them"
I went into the little wood shed and put
the basket in a sheltered corner. Stonor
always declined any offers Of help: he said
II was robbing others who needed II more
than he did: but my cook had become
proud Of her popular buildings. and she had
begged me to ask II she should not send
the verger one. I told him this. and prom
ised to bring II when I came up.
But 1 must say goodnight" I said.
"0r I shall lose my way In the
dark"
He looked at me earnestly.
Not you ma'am"-his smile was singu-
larry bright: kindly light will lead you.
l was bent on telling you a story: but not
tonight. ma'am. not tonight"
He looked so weak this evening that l
felt sad as l left the cottage.
Il wonder why?' l asked myself. Il
ought to be glad that the poor fellow Is
going. as he says. home: he can hardly
find happiness in his solitary life"
And yet tears filled my eyes as I thought
how much Raymond and I should miss the
verger.
II he will only tell his story, We might
be able to give him some comfort"
II was very strange. l have never been
able TO explain why this reflection should
to me as l went down the lane. I
was startled when some one spoke to me at
the corner. 50 greatly startled that / did
not make out what was said
A tall woman dressed In black was stand
Ing close to me. She held her cloak to-
gether with one hand. with the other she
pulled a veil close over her mouth. and this,
perhaps. had made her words indistinct.
Il beg your pardon. What did you say?"
Il asked II the cottage Of a man called
Job Stoner Is near here?"
l looked hard at her as she spoke. There
was yet glimmer enough In the sky behind
to show q face that had perhaps been
pretty. with q ~roughened mass Of fair hair
under her black hat. She spoke as
she were more educated than courteous.
A sudden unaccountable instinct told me
this woman was the verger's wife.
Il have Just left his cottage: there 1t Is.
behind the c~hurchyard."
She was hurrytng on without q word, but
caught her cloak.
wait a Moment. Job Stonor is very iii,
Ind needs care: he has q bad cough, and
he cannot speak much"
She turned and looked at me.
May l ask who you are?'' she said coldly.
II am the wife of the rector here?"
Goodnight. Ma'am."