The Starkville news. (Starkville, Miss.) 1902-1960, 1904-09-30

/ 0eaFy IOOtSIcpS VI INC UcdiCIS. nv
dead man was in all their thoughts just
then; he had been great gardener,
and had planted little while before
| his marriage the lilies which his bride
now brushed with her stiff crepe skirt
/ In the garden which he had given life
| to it was difficult to believe in his death
They looked at each other, recognizing
| between them an added sensation Of
loss.
And in the porch they found him
waiting for them.
! Afterwards, when they came to talk
about it, no one could quite remember
what he wore or how he looked. Only
he was there, standing in the doorway,
as he had been accustomed to stand
looking at his flowers after morn
| ing's work at the desk. There was an
air of entire reality about it.
| His father, tongue responding auto
matically to the stimulus of sight, be-
gan to say: Hello, my boy!" Then
he stopped, looked hastily at the others,
and hoped they had not heard him.
For just five seconds there was a
| dead silence. The father heard the
watch tick in his waistcoat pocket and
the sound of his own strenuous breath.
He knew that the three girls were all
looking at the figure in the porch. Then
the bride gave little cry. Her hus-
band had stepped towards her, holding
out his arms with that boyish gesture
of affection which she had always liked
so much.
Bertha, darling, couldn't leave
you!" he said. His voice had the joy
| full note of traveller come home.
| She turned away from him and flung
| herself against her father-in-law, hid
her face on his sleeve, and began to cry
Historically.
I'm so sorry" said the young man
T've startled all of you. l thought,
! somehow. you'd understand when you
saw me here; but. of course you don't
1t was stupid of me. The point is, I've
come back. Bertha wanted me; and
leaving her alone seemed so horrible" !"
He turned back into the house, and
the others followed him, staring stupid
| Iy, and not liking to speak to one an
| other. No one as yet had said anything
to him.
| They went into the dining-room. He
was not there The cloth was laid for
lunch; there was faint scent of cab
bages and stewed rabbit
They all felt reassured It was so
evident what had happened. They had
been the victims of a collective hallu-
cination-a natural thing enough un-
der the circumstances of nerve strain
/ ch hriI
| and on her small white face there were
| traces of relief as well as of disappoint-
ment She went upstairs to take her
things off,
| They heard her light footsteps and
rusting dress, and then a heavy foot
step that went after her. The elder
daughter rose quietly and went to the
open window 81 can't breathe; this
room is sitting" she said.
"a sound came through the opened
sash-the grating sound of spade, and
| then the heavy, regular thud of wet
| earth thrown from height. The new
| grave was being filled up.
Whilst this still held them with a
reminder of the mornings work door
above was opened and shut quickly.
Then they heard a confused falling
sound and a scream. They rushed up
stairs, feeling sick with an unacknowl-
| edged terror The bride lay on her
bedroom floor in dead faint.
He joined them at lunch and spoke re-
| gretfully of the fact that Bertha was
not well enough to leave her room.
| 'I'd looked forward so to this, be
said. 'To the being with you all again.
Of course, see now that was bit OF
fool not to have prepared you in some
! way. But was so anxious to get back.
| And it seemed to me that being Chris
| tians, you would find it natural enough.
wonder more don't return. But it's
an effort. | suppose Incidence keeps
them on the other side"
You mustn't think I'm hurt or any
thing of that kind" he began in dep
recating, explanatory tone. ".Of course.
| / know how glad you all are, but you're
| startled You mustn't fancy | don't
understand. In day or two the shock
will have passed off, and we shall all
| be happy together as we used to be.
/ Poor little Bertha The sudden Joy was
almost too much for her, wasn't it?"
After lunch the elder daughter drew
her father on one side. "All those,
| wreaths.' she saId, ought to be ar
ranged on the grave, oughtn't they?
| People will wonder
| YES" he answered. You're quite
right-it ought to be done.
She got her hat and went across into
| the churchyard, grateful for the fresh