The Miller press. [volume] (Miller, S.D.) 190?-current, 1907-07-25

cloud. She was i'll, dangerously. TIL
long night hours had brought fort
this much, that there was no vagu
anxiety, but a terrible agonizing fear
in the hearts of those who watches
about the pillow where the sweet fac
rested in unresponsive silence.
Among the many who raised the mui
fed knocker at the rector's house
that day, came the methodical figure
of the curate, who made his few
stiff inquiries, In his usual constrain
cd manner. He had learned that
member of the family was unwell
and so had stopped on his way home
to inquire as to their progress. This
was all. But his mediocre face was
pale in its sallow way, and when the
servant replied to his question, it be
came paler still. The invalid was not
better, indeed, was even worse; and
then the woman who gave the answer
stood for a moment, looking in un
certain wonder at the odd change which
had come over the caller.
81 am-very sorry-to hear this"
he faltered hoarsely, at last. II did
not imagine there was any danger,
L She is 20 young. Perhaps there
will be a change for the better to-
night. ! hope so. I will cali again
In the morning" And then he turned
hurriedly away.
Through the slowly dragging hours
Of that sad winter night a light burned
steadily in one window of the rectory,
and inside the room its brightness
fell upon a shining, tumbled lass Of
pretty hair, forming a halo about an
innocent face upon the pillow; and
the watchers who moved noiselessly
to and fro, turned back to this pillow
always, whatever might have been
the task they left to perform; and
their wearied eyes bore a fresh shadow
of anxious fear. In this fear and
grief not one of them dreamed that
there might be neal them other watch.
ers than themselves. And yet If one
Of them had raised the curtain for a
moment and glanced down into the
cold darkness of the street below, she
would have seen another watcher
a watcher. of whose d~espairing dread
they knew nothing, but who watched
with them nevertheless. They might
have seen this figure any night
of the many that the light fell
in subdued, prophetic dimness up
on the pillow, and they might have
seer it n morning of the many that
Noel Lowther called to make his meth
odically worded, constrained inquiries;
but their hearts were Sc bound within
the four walls of the dim room, that
not n of them had even the slight.
est shadow of a thought of its near
ness, even when the end came to
them, and he shared it with them.
There was a knot of Grape on the
door the next morning, when the
staid, respectable figure stood there,
and the servant who replied to his
summons met his glance with eyes
heavy with weeping.
1T is useless to ask" he said, in
the strange breathless way the wom-
an had noticed before. "She is"
And he stopped. and pointed with a
mute gesture at the Grape upon the
door.
Dead" was the ~low-spoken answer.
'Yes, sir; last night"
He passed into the house without
another word. He had a right there
now. They would expect him. Dead!
Yes, he had known that hours ago:
and yet he had not taught himself
to believe it anything but a torturing
dream.
He stood in the mysterious dimness
before the marble presence at last.
t seemed, and the soft gloom was
shadow. There was only one
hing il the Dor to this man, the
black casket, wherein rested
he lost Jewell ife's purest pearl
Deaths setting of ebony. The
cheek rested against the soft
y rising pillow of satin; the bright
flowed softly over it; fair flowers
ay in the fairer hands. He had no
light to weep. He had been so far
part from her life, and he was so
ar apart from her innocent, dead
body. He stood at the casket's side
Ind looked down in utter silence of
agony. He had never hoped to wake
her to a realization of his man
Owe; but l;fe's despair was not the
of death, the dumb pang OF
down upon her sweet dead
ace. There was only for him this ST.
ence, and this last look. He passed
,ut of the door and into the fast
larkening street. The dull room wait.
ID for him beyond, the dingy walls,
md the old torture of the leaden
of labor. And to this he went,
With his memory of the fair dead face,
n its setting of gold: with the mem
Try of the words the sweet young
-oice had uttered, and the echoes had
up, and carried into the vault
ID roof.
ooh, Lamb Of God, who takest away
he sins of the world!"
Grant rs thy peace"
"Oh, Lamb of God, who takest away
he sins Of the world!"
Ottawa marcy m,on us0 L