Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1908-03-05

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no relations, certain something
constraint, doubt, condescension, or en-.
couragement-cannot but be remarked
in the manner Of extending or with
drawing the hand. Chapters-wh0le
essays-great books-might be written
on the differences, shades, and grades
Of shaking hands, from the affable
greeting of a prince to the cheerful
grasp which work-house chaplain be-
slows upon his sheep.
Katharine. however. noticed nothing
unusual in this welcome.
"You are quite strong and well again
now, are your" asked the young lady.
"Quite, thank you."
"Are you still living in the same
house?"
eyes," Katharine replied, without In.
terest in the matter. "They are quiet
people who leave me alone"
-"May I call upon you some dayf'
certainly. why not?"
''It must be on Sunday, after service.
I shall not interrupt you then. My
name is Katharine, like yours-Kath.
arine Willoughby. You will tell me
yours, perhaps, when I call at your
lodgings. 1 should SO much like" she
added, in lower voice, ito be your
friend, If you will let me-"
Katharine made no reply. But her
eye fell upon the girls dress. There
was a colored scarf round her neck,
and bit of bright color in her hat
and tan.colored gloves.
II thought" she said, "that you were
in deep mourning. Was dreamingi
Sometimes strange feeling comes over
me, as If everything was dream"
"You are quite right. / was in deer
mourning. But, oh, Katharine, on the
very day that I found you the most
joyful news that ever reached any CIR!
came to me. 1t told me that the-the
person for whom I mourned was not
dead at all. but living, and I put of
my mourning"
"Was it your lover?"
Eyes, 1t was my lover. Thank God
he was restored to those who love
him"
"Come on Sunday" said Katharine
suddenly interested. II will tell you OF
all my trouble, If you are not too happy
to hear It,"
On Sunday morning Miss Willoughby
called. But she could not hear the
story that morning, because the girl
lay in bed with some kind of fever,
Her head and her hands were hot,
her words were wandering. She spoke
of the fog and of the night, and called
upon Tom to come back and help her.
But as for her story, she could not tell
It, because reason and will and knowl.
edge and self-rule had left her brain,
which was the abode of delirium.
They carried her TO the hospital for
women in the Marylebone Road. There
was nothing to show where she came
from or who were her friends. In her
pocket-girls no longer, except in books,
carry treasures in their bosoms-lay
tied together packet of letters. They
were from man who signed himself
"Tom"-tout court-nothing but "Tom"
and addressed her as Katharine.
What can be done with "Tom" This
Tom was madly in love with her. He
called her every endearing name that
fond lover can invent; he recalled the
past days of happiness together; he
looked forward to the future. He was
In railway train; he was on board a
ship; he was among soldiers; he spoke
Of natives; he spoke of Arabs-clearly
therefore, Tom among Egyptians.
Probably Tom who had been killed.
He did not somehow write like an
officer; his letters contained no news;
for that he referred her to the papers.
All he had to tell her was that he loved
her-he loved ,her--he loved her--and
was always and forever her Tom.
The Sister Of the ward read these
sacred letters, and placed them. with a
sigh that so much honest love should
beslost, under Katharine's pillow. Time
enough to try and find out, II she grew
worse, what had become OF this Tom,
and who his Katharine really was.
She did grow worse, but she had
youth ON her side and good constitu-
tion, which had certainly not been
spoiled by luxurious living or the want
Of exercise She even lay at the point
of death; had she died there would
have been nothing to establish her
identity but those letters and her hand.
kerchief marked *. r. c." Then she
would have been buried, and Lily's
prophecy would have come partly true.
"She Is better this morning, said the
Sister Tier head Is cool. She has
been sleeping long Time"
She is more beautiful than ever In
her weakness. twas Miss Wfllougil-
BY who stood beside the bed with tho
Sister and the nurse. "Sister, think Of
It! She told me she was without
friends or relations. Is It possibleY'
1T is certainly not possible said the
Sister. There Is perfect innocence In
her face and than that--in her |
talk. We hear the delirious talk OF /
women whose lives have not been limo.
cent, and we learn their past This
girls mind is as innocent as her face.
You might make a painting Of that and /
call 1t Eve Before the FALL or Una" !
Or Mary, the Sister Of Martha. She /
may be friendless, but-v The Sister
shook her head and went away.
Miss WilIoughby sat by the bedside
and waited.
mo friends and MO relations How 4