The Bamberg herald. [volume] (Bamberg, S.C.) 1891-1972, 1903-10-01
|)

| IL Oily Hdu NY pdIdSOI, Sne
thought; ''but l was thoughtless
| enough to leave that at home"
She saw team coming rapidly to-
ward her, and thought possibly 1t
might be her father, but it proved to he
a stranger with q man and a trunk,
Fastening toward Haven, probably to
catch the morning train.
Disappointed and discouraged, she
sat down by the roadside to rest. I'm
der the shadow of great elm she
watched and waited for some one to
come by and ask her to ride; but, as
no one came, she plucked up courage,
in spite of the burning sensation in her
feet. and started on.
She judged she had walked about five
miles, and then she began to reflect
:! again. IA
Il wonder" shesGsked herself, film
not folish for undertaking such walk
! as this? Supposing,I didn't keep my
enga cement with Walter. what differ
ence would it maze? I'm not sure
that he'd care, and 1 don believe he'd
so to all this trouble for me. Besides.
what view will he take Of it? Will he
| / Think Pm crazy to be with him, or see
the principle involved in it? Well"
she exclaimed. after "A few moments
more Of reflections, "I've never broken
lmy word to anybody vet, and I'm NOT
going to begin with him. I told him
would surely be home tonight. and
I'm going to keep my word. Oh she
continued, these feet will be the death
of me-" when she haard a rumble of
wheels approaching her from behind.
| She looked around, aud to Eer delight
she recognized Nj. Cline, an old friend
Of her fathers.
"Why, Nilda Wright"' he exclaimed,
;; refining in his horse. "What in the
name of sense. are you doing here this
hot day?" f,s.s = >. :
"I'ather didn't come after ne last
night, 50 I thought I'd walk"
Walk. child! Why. you must be
crazy. Why, it's twelve miles, If it's
an inch."z - sf.7ya
"Ten, father calls it," replied Vida.
eyes, by taking some cross-cuts. But
what's the stress bout your getting
home? Homesic.a, eh?" he asked, peer
ing under her straw hat.
"No, not exactly that" said Vida.
preyaricating a, little. "But it's been
two weeks since I've been there
"Well, you're q plucky girl. to say
the least; and if 1 wasn't in such
confcunded hurry to ge- back with this
cutter-bar, I'd take you clear home.
But you see,', he added apolegetical)y,
''the men can't so on with the haying
until get there" ~
ooh. that's all right, Mr.. Cline. 1
don't mind it. L can just as we'll walk
as net."' said Vida, brayeiy, at the
same time secretly wincing at the pain
that was getting more intense in her
feet.
"But you won't get home for dinner
he said solicitously. =
."oh, yes SHALL" replied Vida. I'll
be home long before that"
'It will be a little out Of your way.
but get in and ride as far as my house,
he said, refectiyely. anl then drove
rapidly into the south FORK o. the road.
From there you can go cross lots and
insthe end You will save time" ."zssss
.'Yes,"" said Wilda. thinking the While
that their way led right by Walter
Mather's house. ~&% 4
Perhaps m see Walter" Z she
thought. "and he'll recognize the effort
it is costing me to keep my promise"
Long before they came in sight Of the
house, she plainly discerned the maple
grove which sheltered the white farm
house. When they neared the place
her eyes searched eagerly under the
low-hanging branches for a familiar
form. At last she diseerned two people
swinging leisurely in hammock, one
a girl of her acquaintance, the other,
Walter Mather, With his arm around
her waist.
. For a moment Wilda's, heart beat
wildly, then it seemed to stand still.
He teeth closed like n wise, and could
she have opened them to speak her
tongue would have-hissed out TRAITOR"
Suddenly Walter caught the sound OF
wheels, and looking up recognized her,
withdrew his arm, and bowed.
Mr. Cline had caught the drift of
things too. and, giving his horses
clip with the whip, in the midst Of 8
cloud Of dust they assembled the hill. a
8 naWhoswas that tsyou4g woman with
Walter Mather:" he asked, as soon as
they were we'll over.
Miss Wood. !. said Wilda, savagely.
"The bold minxr' he calculated, to
which Wilda dare not trust herself to
reply. az "a -. 1913 IS -
Soon now they were at Mr.. Cline's
gate, when Wilda, unassisted, clam
bered out Of the wagon, and after
thanking him for her ride, started
down the road toward home.
"Take it cross lots, Wilda," Mr.. Cline
called after her.
Cali right, Mr.. Cline. Excuse me,
forgot" she called back.
Then she turned in toward the high
rail fence, climbed over it, and when
she was we'll into the field beyond, In
sheer desperation she sat down on the
ground with her back against an old
stump and began to cry.
"Only to Think she burst out indig-
nantly. "of my going to all this trouble
for him. The mean, deceitful wretchr'
and the heavy heads Of grass bent
low and answered "Yes" "Now !
know why I could never tell whether
loved him or not. he don't deserve
it." and the waving grass bent its
heads still lower and whispered, "No,
he's deceiving you." ''I'll never, never
speak to him again." she cried.
II wouldn't if I were you,' croaked
a blackbird as it lighted on the stump
above her head.
!. sI don't believe Theodore Graham
would be guilty of treating girl like
that"
Indeed he wouldn't" again croaked