Oxford Democrat., 1906-04-24

had been at her best. After time.
finding that the more he tried to cheer
her the more brokenly she wept, he
grew silent, only stroking her head,
while the summer sounds came In
through the window. the mill whir Of
l0custs, the small monotone Of distant
farm bells, the laughter Of children in
the street and the gay arias of u mock
ing bird swinging in the open window
of the next house. So they sat together
through the long, still afternoon Of the
last day.
No one In Rouen found that after
noon particularly enlivening. Even
Mrs. Tanberry gave way to the COM
mon depression. and, once more her
doctrine of cheerfulness relegated to
| the ghostly ranks Of the purely theO-
retlcal, she bowed under the burden
Of her woe so far as to sing "Methought
| l Met Dal.sel Fair" Cher Of the burst
ing sighs) at the piano. Whenever sad
ness lay upon her soul she had acquir-
| ed the h.bit of resorting to this un-
happy ballad: today she sang 1t four
| times. Mr. Carewe was not ut home
and had announced that. though he in.
tended to honor the evening meal by
his attendance, he should be away for
the evening itself, as comment upon
which statement Mrs. Tanberry had
offered ambiguously the one word,
amen" He was stung to no reply,
and she had noted the circumstance as
unusual and also that he had appeared
to labor with the suppression of keen
excitement which made him anxious
to escape from her sharp little eyes;
an agitation for which she easily ac-
counted when she recalled that he had
seen Vanrevel on the previous evening.
Mr.. Carewe had kept his promise to
preserve the peace, as he always kept
It when the two met on neutral ground.
but she had observed that his face
showed kind of hard leashed vio-
lence whenever he had been forced to
breathe the air of the same room with
his enemy, and that the thing grew on
him.
Miss Betty exhibited not precisely
burning interest in the adventure OF
the damsel fair, wandering out Of the
room during the second rendition, wan
dering back again and once more away.
She had moved about the house In
this fashion since early morning. wear
ing what Mamie described as peak
ed look" White faced and restless,
with distressed eyes, to which no sleep
had come in the night. she could not
read. She could no more than touch
her harp. She could not sleep. She
could not remain quiet for three min
utes together. Often she sank into q
chair with an air Of languor and weari-
ness only to start Immediately out OF
II and seek some other part Of the
house or % go and pace the garden.
Here in the air heavy with roses and
tremulous with June as she walked
rapidly up and down late In the after
noon, at the time when the faraway
farm bells were calling men from the
fields to supper. the climax Of her rest
lessness came. That anguish and des-
pera ton, so old in her sex, the rebel
lion against the law tilat inactiOn must
be her part, had fallen upon her for
the first time. She came to an abrupt
stop and struck her hands together de-
spairingly and spoke aloud.
"What shall do? What shall dot"
"Ma'am? asked surprised voice
Just behind her.
She wheeled quickly about to behold
shock headed urchn Of ten in the
path near the little clearing. He was
ragged. tanned, dusty, neither shoes nor
coat trammellng his independence, and
he had evidently entered the garden
through the gap in the hedge.
II thought you spoke to me-" he said
inquiringly.
~ didn't see you," she returned.
"What Is itF'
"You Miss Carewe?" he asked, but
before she could answer he said reas-
suringly: why, Of course you are!
remember you perfect, now I git the
light OH you, so to speak. Don't you
remember me?"
mo, I don't think ! do"
"LOrdw he responded wonderingly.
II was one Of the boys with you on
them boxes the night of you pas fire"
Mingled with the surprise IN his tone
was respectful unction which init
mated how greatly he honored her IA.
ther for having been the owner OF SO
satisfactory confagration.
"Wcre you? Perhaps I'll remember
you II you give me time"
But at this point the youth recalled
the fact that he had an errand to dis
charge. and. assuming an expression of
businesslike haste too pressing to per.
NIT further parley. sought in his pocket
and produced sealed envelope with
which he advanced upon her.
Here. There's an answer. He told
me not to tell anybody who sent 1t. and
not to give it to nobody OIL earth but
you, and how to slip in through the
hedge and try AMI find you IN the gar
den when nobody was lookin', and he
give pencil for you to answer OH the
back of 1t. and dollar"
Miss Betty took the note. glancing
once over her shoulder ut the house.
but Mrs. TaIGerry was still occupied
with the maiden. and no one was IN
sight. She read the message hastily:
/ have obeyed you and shall always.
You have not sent for me. Perhaps that
was BECAUSE there was no time when you
thought II safe. Perhaps you have still
felt there would be n loss OF dignity.
Does that weigh with you against good
by? Tell me. II you can. that you have
II in your heart to let me 20 without see.
ing you once more-without goodby-for
the last time Or was II untrue that you
wrote me what you did? Was that dear
letter but little fairy dream of mine?
All. will YOU see me again. this once-this
@1