Greene County herald. (Leakesville, Miss.) 1898-current, 1903-07-31


was over. 1t was a temptation re-
sisted-but felt better after hav-
4 ing done it. AS / was sorting the
letters preparatory to putting them in
| the mail bag for Birmingham; one let
| ter turned up and sent a jealous shock
through me that sent my heart throb-
bing and my brain swimming with a
| sudden dizziness. I might have ex-
pected to have seen it there, but none
the less did it affect me when l did see
it. 1t was addressed to "Mr. John Nor
ris, Trent Hall'-and / knew that it
was his. had a dear little note in the
| same hadwriting next to my heart then
| few graceful words thanking me for
a book 1 had sent her-a little note l
| had read over countless times, and
kissed often, wondering if it would dis
please her to know how fondly l cher
ished it. thrust the hateful letter out
of my sight, and leaning my hand ON
the table, lived over again the hopes,
the fears, the wretchedness of the
last twenty-four hours.
The day before, while distributing
the mail, / came across letter adj
dressed to myself, and on opening it l
| had learned that through the generosity
of a distant relative, whose name /
bore; had been left an Inheritance of
| 100000 What change a few strokes
of the pen had made-transforming
Charles Maurice, postmaster of Sc
4 Guided English village, into Charles
Maurice, the possessor OF a competence,
well invested. yielding certain in
come. And how before my good for
tune l had thought of Annie Merrill as
one separated from me by my poor cir
cumstances, my salary barely support
ing my mother and myself. and how
| could l ask any woman to share my
poverty? Now the burden of poverty
was most Unexpectedly lifted from me,
1 felt at liberty to tell her the hopes /
had never dared to entertain until now.
What would her answer be? That l
would learn that very night
In the same post with my letter was
| 6ne addressed to her, post-marked Bir-
mingham. Her correspondence all
passed through my hands, but had
never seen that writing before. Itwas
large, clear, decisive, the writing of a
self-possessed man. Who could the
writer be7 Annie's uncle; Dr. Merrill,
had male correspondents in Birming
| ham. But this letter was the first that
| had come to her since she came or
phaned from the city year before, and
had been received into her uncles heart
and home. But other thoughts put the
! question Of the letter out of my mind.
| sent by a messenger few hurried
lines to my mother at home, to prepare
her for our good fortune, and then
| counted the hours that must pass be-
fore I could offer my inheritance to
Annie. encountered with its possessor.
When I reached home 1 found her
| there before me. My mother. who had
taken her into favor from the first. her
sweetness and orphaned situation prov
! ing passport to her heart, had sent
for Annie to communicate the good
news to her. She was strangely quiet,
/ thought, and there was a troubled
look in her blue eyes had never seen
there before:
In fact, after a while subdued feel
| ing stole over us ALL Annie's disquiet
seemed to impart itself to us. | was
thinking how l could venture to tell
her all my hopes, and my mother,
guessing what my thoughts were, left
us together most of the evening, but
my heart failed me. It was only when
I was walking home with Annie to
DR.. Merrill's that 1 found courage to
speak. She helped me by saying that
/ must not think from her silence that
| she did not rejoice in the happy change.
in my prospects, for no one could be-
more sincere in her congratulations
than herself / answered that my goud
fortune would be valueless to me I'M
less 1 could share 1t with the girl ]
| loved.
1.-THE girl You love?'' she repeated
| questioningly.
1 felt her hand tremble on my arm.
THE girl / love-" l answered, in
tones that she might have interpreted,
butfailed to do.
She ought to be happy woman
she continued. ''NIay 1 ask If 1 know
herY
IF you know herr I cried "If you
know herl Oh, who could she be but
your
"Me?'
She drew her hand quickly away
from my arm, and stood quite still be-
for me.
Me, Oh did you say me?''
And then I saw the moonlight falling
on her face, and it was not the face of
a girl shining in happy confusion when
she hears the story of his love from the.
man she prefers. 1t was pale and
shocked, and then she hid it from me
in her hands and burst into tears.
I needed no other answer. l knew
my suit was hopeless.
Done cry, dearp' said I. II never
thought to wound you.''
| Il thought you knew" She went on.
sobbingly. 81 thou ght my uncle might.
have told. I am to marry Nh. Norris.
I had letter from him today. Oh.
can you forgive me n
She stretched out her little hands I'M
ploringly. ! took them in mine. ana
kissed them while nv heart was break
Ing
Forgive YOU. my darling" / said. 81
would forgive you ii you killed me,
think. Don't grieve, Annie. viii Try
to bearitn
we parted ait her uncle's without an
other word, and went home to the
motherly heart that 1 knew would suf-
fer with me- but whose tender sympa-
thy would uphold me in this hour of
bitter trial.
The next day I sent in my resigna-
ton, for my mother and l agreed to
leave the village where we had passed
SO many quiet years. It was in the
afternoon. of the same day that lie
letter of which / have spoken, that /