The county record. [volume] (Kingstree, S.C.) 1885-1975, 1905-04-13
UNEOVED


She turned to her Grossly.
There's no use to argue WHINE,
Libby Anderson. amt goin'r'
But what about Dave?"
"You can jest write Dave, and say
his mother don't want to leave the
place. Dave won't have nothin' further
to say
She looked off at the meadowland as
If it were all settled. Libby would
have to tell her.
"Ma," she said. it's no use to write
to Dave"
"Why not?" she demanded. in half
frightened. half-aggressive voice.
Hes sold the place, MAJ
whats that you say? Something
about Dave selling my place? Are you
gone crazy, kbby?"
"You know you decided it to him,
ma. 1t was his after you did that.
And he's sold it, and we'll have to
move out"
Hearing no answer, she turned
around, and it was then she coveted
Dawes gift of saying things smoothly.
The old woman was crouched low in
her chair, and her face was quivering,
and looked suDken and gray.
II didn't thiIik he'd do that" she fall
tered.
"Never mind, ma" Libby said awk-
wardly. poor MAJ
1t was the nearest to caress that
had passed between them since Libby
was a little girl.
Nothing more was said until after ma
had gone to bed. Libby supposed she
was asleep, when she called Quaver-
ingly to her.
Libby" she said, you mustn't be
thinkin' hard of Dave. He must have
thought it for the best"
Libby. was used to caring for ma,
and she needed care now.
Eyes, ma" she answered; I'm sure
he must"
1t was not until the morning of the
fourth day that the silence between
them was broken. Libby got up to
take down the clock, when she heard
a strange noise behind her, and, turn
ing, she saw that mas head was down
low in her hands, and she was rock
ing passionately back and forward, and
crying as though her old heart had
broken.
She put down the clock. and again
she wished for little of Daye's sikh
ness Of speech. But she did not have
it, and the best she could do was to
pull mas chair out from the barren
room out into the sunshine Of the
porch. The hills, she thought, would
still look like home.
Ma did not get up at all next day.
Perhaps she was i'll. or perhaps it was
only that she did not want to go out
in the sitting room and see how un-
like home it looked. But the next day
she did not get up either, and then
Libby went to town for the doctor. He
said the excitement had weakened her.
and did not seem very certain she
would ever get up again. That night
Libby wrote a letter to Dave, asking
him again to let his mother die on the
old place. A week passed, and an an
swer had not come. and still ma had
not left her bed. The packing was ali
done, it was the 1st Of May, and she
was just waiting-she did not know
for what.
Her whole soul rose up against NOV
ing ma from the old place now, when
her days were so surely numbered;
and so she sent a telegram to Dave,
telling him his mother was i'll, and'
asking leave to stay little longer.
There came reply from his partner,
saying that Dave was away, and would
not be home for two weeks.
That night the old woman raised her
self and sobbed out the truth.
Its Dave that's KILN me! It's to
think Dave sold the place, and turned
me out to die"
And then the way opened before
Libby, and she saw her path.
The disinherited child wrote letter
that night, and to it she signed her
brothers name. Out in the world they
might have applied to it an ugly word,
but Libby was only caring for ma. She
was a long time about it, for it was
hard to put things in Dawes round,
bold hand, and it was hard to say them
in his silky way.
The doctor said next morning that it
was a matter Of but a few days at
most, for ma was much worse.
ut amt that I'm goin' TO die" she
said, when Libby came in and found
her crying; "but 1 was thinkin' of
Dave. 1 keep thinkin' and thinkin' of
him when he was a little boy, and how
be used to run about the place, and how
pretty he used to look; and then, just
as 1 begin to take little comfort in
some of the smart things
he said, I have to think Of what he
has done, and it does seem like he
might have waited till" But the
words were too bitter to be spoken,
and, with hard, scraping sound in her
throat, she turned her face to the wall.
Libby put her hand to something in
her pocket, and thought of last nights
work with thankfulness.
About II o'clock she entered the
room with the sheets of a letter in her
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