The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1908-06-03
Che falling
Of Lucy.
BY CLARISsA MACKIE.
Copyrighted. 1865. by Associated
Literary Press.

Elwood Grained his neck as the train
drew in at the little station. Yes, here
WAS the low, red brick structure, from
either end of which the road wound
away between the young oaks, now
showing faint misty brown In the
late April sunshine.
With sudden impulse he arose and
grasped his hat and grip. In another
| Instant he stood before the station
house, while the train screamed away
through the wooded tunnel of oaks.
He looked around ut the familiar
scene, slightly bewidered at the result
| of his impulsive action. He had left
| New York With the intention of spend
| ing the week end With friends at
| Shrimp Cove, but the familiar scenes
through which the train had sped and
| which marked milestones In his mem
DRY had reused within him depths Of
feeling that he thought could not now
| exist
Evadng the puzzled glance OF the
right hand road Ultimately 1t would
take him to the village hostelry. Incl
dentally II would lead him over old
paths and permit his fancy to reyel In
banished dreams.
He plodded through the thick vel
low sand with eager eyes Oh the bud
ding hedges Gratefully he Inhaled the
delicate spring doors that seemed to
emanate from the golden afternoon
sunshine
| lie paused, once beside foamlng
| spring where sweetiiag was shooting
green blades from the black, oozy
where arbutus chung TO the steep
banks and the pink pouch of the moe
easn flower sprang from the lichened
tree stumps Each time he removed
his hat and stood with painfully knit
ted brow aud reflective eyes. Then he
| moved on.
| The village hotel WIS under new
management aud he passed unehal-
| lenged by old acquaintances. He
stroled down the irregular street after
| the evening meal was over and In the
| spring twilight revisited old hahnts
and revived old memories until his
mind was Il chaos of rage with him
self and grief for the unattainable.
| The next morning when clamoring
bells rang out from the white painted
| churches and the quiet streets We're
| ..ft h.. ut |.
lage bellies Eiwood made his way to Il
quaint old editice tucked away on thu
shore road, so that when he was seated
in II familiar place he could see thu
white sails In the hapbor and the thiI
drift of smoke from passing steamers
on the sound.
The gathering congregation looked
curlously ut the dignlficd, middle aged
stranger who sat In the old Elwoot
pew, but he maintained an attitude OF
slotionless rigidlty, with eyes fixet
steadily ON the ripping water beyond
the window He was listening with
painful eagerness for a light step.
II came. He heard the swish OF silk
and the soft slip OF her feet MS she
assembled the steps of the chancel and
took her place among the assembled
choir In his eyes mind he could see
her, cool and pale, with daxen hair and
dark blue eyes.
There would he little change In her
| appearance after fifteen years. Her
fair skin might have faded little,
and her sllmness might have become
angularty, but there would be no 9th
or visible alteration. StIlI. he could
not look.
Two women rustled into the seat be
hind him and eonversed IN Kissing
whispers that reached his ear with an
noying distlnctness.
Lucy Cliffords got on her blue fou-
lard silk, uln't sheY
"Yes l wonder II she's going TO sing
today?"
II suppose 80. Mr.. Larkin said 1t
would be the last year she could sing
IN the choir"
Her voice Is getting terrible thin,
aud once In awhile it gives out She
| amt sung for two or three weeks now.
| guess she was saving II SOS she
could sing today"
"Lucy's getting TO be regular old
maid Now that she's left alone down
TO the old place, guess she wishes
she'd taken up with young Elwood
after all"
81 hope her voice don't fail today,
remarked one of the women as the low
tones of the organ rumbled through
the church.
Elwood turned his head. Yes; there
she sat, her pale, pure profile outlined
against the red and purple of the chan
eel window.
She looked as his memory had limned
her save that she was not angular;
she still retained her youthful slim
ness There was pathetic droop to
her once proudly lifted head and a
usefulness In the full lidded eyes rs
she turned toward the congregation.
The organ ceased the white robed
minister entered and knelt IN prayer,
and then with a triumphant burst or
music the choir arose and the notes OF
the anthem rang through the little
church Elwood pressed hand across
his singing eyes as the familiar melo-
dy proceeded 1t seemed but yesterday
that he had stood beside Lucy Clifford
In the choir and lifted his strong young
voice In that same strain.
He heard the high notes of her thin
soprano above the reedy tenor and the
rumble Of alto and bass, and there was
an uncertain quality In It that caused
his heart to beat little faster In the
fear that her voice might fail altogeth-
er. Anxiously he followed her through
the anthem and sighed with relief
when the final "Amen' died away in
the rustic of the kneeling people.
The service proceeded as 1t had pro-
ceeded fifteen years ago. There was
another minister and, save for Lucy
Clifford, other voices In the choir.
There were strangely familiar faces In
the congregation, and his eyes eluded
many glance OF recognition. 1t was
enough for him that he could look