The Marion daily mirror. (Marion, Ohio) 1892-1912, 1908-02-29

udtuTc buc Wdb HuTOIy yet quite sure.
At the same time, she loved her grand.
parents more deeply even than she
herself suspected; and now, realizing
as she had never done before the pain
which she would cause them by her
going, she shrank at the thought of It.
She did think of It. however. nearly
all that night; and rising in the morn
ing. dulieyed. from sleepless pillow,
she told her grandparents that for a
whole year. at least, she would say
no more Of Boston. Their 10y was an
illumination to her. A gladder sun.
shine seemed to stream down upon
Stony.Lonesome, and she heard her
grandfather whistling like a boy over
his work in the cornfeld. For days
she herself had calm, contented
spirit, and turned her eyes no more
to the notch in the hills.
II could not be expected that this
contentment, reached so abruptly.
should prove lasting In a few weeks
the young girl felt again the sting of
the old restlessness But she would
not let 1t appear In the autumn,
when several girls of her acquaintance
went away, full of sanguine enthusi.
asm, the gnawing fever in her veins
grew almost intolerable. She fought
1t with resolution which might have
moral fiber; but II took its revenge by
stealing from her cheeks the color and
round young curves. The old people
noted this. and grieved over II, and
redoubled their furtive efforts to
amuse her. Lydia wept at night over
the struggle, but succeeded, after a
time, in cultivating CHEEKY lightness
Of manner that deceived and relieved
her grandparents All through the
spring and summer they grew more
and more happily reassured; and all
the time, under the restraint which
she had put upon herself, the fire in
Lydias heart gathered heat.
At last. with the next coming Of the
fall, and the going of the birds, and
the aching unrest which troubles the
blood when the days grow short and
chill with the diminishing year, Lydia
could bear,it no longer. She cried out
% them one day, with a sudden storm
If tears. that she must go away; that
they must let her go for little while,
to come back to stony.Lonesome in
the spring. The poor little house of
'ards which the old people had been
building all summer came straightway
to the ground in piteous ruin.
John Cassidy said nothing The
look upon his face cut Lydia to the
heart but she hardened herself to
meet 1t. lt-had been his rule, in
ringing the girl up, to cross her
FISHES but rarely, and then with a
nality that left no more to say. Now
le shrank from entering into direct
conflict with her will. That his posi-
i've command would keep her at home,
at least for the present. he knew; but
le feared the ultimate result. With
aaggard eyes he gazed at Lydia for
'ew moments: then got up and went
out. His wife set herself despairing-
". with tears and tonder entreaties,
md arguments which Lydia had al
eady threshod over and over in her
purpose. But Lydia was now in the
I'LL torrent OF reaction from her long
ielf-conIrol, and neither argument nor
ntreaty could touch her. She fled to
Ter own room, her handkerchief re.
iuced to wet and crumpled ball, her
yes red and angry. Throwing her.
self on her face upon the bed, she
ricd hard to fix her mind on such de.
ails as what clothes she would take
With her and what time she would get
away She thought and thought, but
Ter grandfathers haggard eyes kept
Trusting themselves between her and
her oplans. till she sprang up and set
herself feverishly to an examination of
Ter wardrobe.
Downstairs Mrs. Cassidy sat rock
ng to aad fro, dropping hot tears
lpon the gray woolen sock which she
vas knitting. In her heart was dark,
ialf-realized phantom of fear that
her husband, in his anger, might do
something dreadful to Lydia She re-
nembered that sudden. awful threat
which had been wrung from him; and
-hough she had lived with him these
10 years, she did not even yet know
he tenderness of his rugged heart.
She trembled, and waited for what
night happen.
John Cassidy came In. an hour later,
md got his coat. He had harnessed
Up his old driving horse, and was going
to tAe Colners,-"to do an arr'nd,"
ne said. in answer to his wife's query
IN fact. he felt that he would have to
Jet away from Stony-Lonesome in
,rder to think clearly. He was bewll-
Tered by the problem which confront
I'd him. But 1t was an unheard.of
hing for him to 80 In to the Corners
without taking Lydia along. The girl
watched him from the window as the
wagon went jolting down the lane, and
read his bitterest rebuke In this soil.
tary departure. II made her feel as If
she were suddenly thrust out of his
life. keen foretaste of homesick-
ness came over her.
AS John Cassidy. with bent head
and hands that scarcely felt the reins
they held moved along the quiet