Clarke courier. [volume] (Berryville, Va.) 1869-1997, 1902-01-01

NY iVONeu at the reflection to-
gether, as though it had been a pic
ture.
is it game?" she asked, smiling
at his amused face and forgetting
her awe of him.
Yes; you shall sit on the floor
again and sing to me-"
i can't sirg-Only HYMNS"
"Then, failing that, YOU shall
come and talk to me while I have
my dinner; then well stroll in the
gardens, and III have a smoke"
Hepzibah was delighted: this was
going to be better than watching
goldfish and reading books.
Mrs. Vincent returned early
Knowing she had left her little a1iest
alone The drawing room was light
ed up and Cons well known voice
was waited into the night. He was
singing little coon song that was a
favorite with him
Say, boys. have yer seen e. gal
That, iookin' fer a coon Ike me
while llcpzibah sat near the piano
softly humming the tune after him.
with the yellow daisies fastened in
her waist belt and happy smile in
her ewes.
Two months passed. and then
there came letter from Mrs. Wort
ley which said:
Me and her father thinks En-
py's been long enough AT yours. dear
Hepzibah. and. thankin' YOU very
much for Your kindness. would he
glad to have her home, bein' har-
vest an Us busy"
"Oh. Con" Mrs. Vincent cried.
Just as she was getting on 80 nice
ly, and I'm SO fond Of her,
Cant YOU write and ask them to
leave her a bit longer ?" looking up
from his paper.
At this iuncture Hepzibah came
in, and Mrs. Vincent held the letter
out TO her
"Nour mother wants YOU to 80
home. my dear" she said. "She
thinks YOU have been here long
enough"
All the color faded from Hepzi-
bah's face and il was second ere
she spoke. In that second Mrs.
Vincent looked at Con, but he had
gone back for his paper.
81 have stayed a long time" Hep
zibah replied deliberately, so that
there might be- no BETRAYAL in her
voice. Il think mother is quite
right; she'll be busy. as she saws
No word from Con. a cold dread
settled upon Mrs. Nincent's kind
heart. Had she brought suffering
upon this child unwittinglv? Her
intentions had been for the best.
She blamed herself bitterly: she
could not blame Con. who had
laughed at her matchmaking from
the first and was laughing now may
be. And Hepzibah? As though in
answer the girl raised her eyes, and
Mrs. Vincent was stricken with re-
morse at the tale they told.
II don't reckon that's done our
Eppy much good, goin' ter town,
MASTER" Mrs. Wortlev told her hus-
band for the hundredth time. "The
mawther can't eat her vittles, an
'as lost all her color"
"SheM dew nicely in q while
them people has turned her head WI
q lot o. nonsense about fine clothes
an pianner playin'," returned Eli
jah complacently. But Mrs. Wort
ley was mother, and mothers see
with different ewes from other folks.
HcpHbah had been home a week.
Was it a week? 1t seemed like a
decade She had taken up the
threads of her old life at once, but
il was a woman-not a child-who
went in and out-a woman who
was trying TO forget.
'Draw a pail O. water, Eppy,"
Mrs. Wortley called, looking up
from her breadmaking. Hepzibah
took the pail and went out to the
well. As she fastened the hook on
to the handle "A man came round
the bend of the road whistling a
well remembered tune. 1t was not
the poStman this time.
Say bows. have yer seen a gal
That's lookin' fer = coon like me2
The pail fell with a splash as far
as the chain would permit, and Hep
zibah, trembling from head to foot,
turned to see Con vault the gate
and come across the grass with a
word on his lips.
"Mimosa!"
Ten minutes passed, and then
Mrs. Wortley came to the back door
to find all the color returned tc
Eepzibah's cheeks and a strange
young man drawing the bucket up
from the well-Chicago Tribune.
Origin Of an Old Saying.