The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1908-06-30
Cbe falling
Of Lucy.
By CLARIssA MAcKIE.
Copyrighted, 1903, by Associated
Literary Press.

| was the low, red brick structure, from
either end of which the road wound
away between the young oaks, now
showing a faint misty brown in the
late april sunshine.
| With a 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 at the familiar
scene, slightly bewildered 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 men,
DRY had reused within him depths of
feeling that he thought could not now
exist.
Evading the puzzled glance of the
station agent, he turned down the
right hand road. Ultimately it would
take him to the village hostelry. Incl
dentally 1t would lead him over old
paths and permit his fancy to revel in
banished dreams.
He plodded through the thick yell
low sand with eager eyes on the bud
ling hedges. Gratefully he inhaled the
delicate spring odOrs that seemed to
emanate from the golden afternoon
sunshine.
He paused, once beside a foaming
spring where sweethag was shooting
green blades from the black, oozy
mud, and again in the Honeyspot road,
where arbutus chung to the steep
banks and the pink pouch of the moe
casin flower sprang from the lichened
tree stumps. Each time he removed
his hat and stood with painfully knit
ted brow and reflective eyes. Then he
moved on.
The village hotel was under new
management, and he passed unchal-
lenged by old acquaintances. He
strolled down the irregular street after
the evening meal was over and in the
spring twilight revisited old haunts
and revived old memories until his
mind was a 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 were
gay with the Easter inery of the vii
lage bellies Elwood made his way to
quaint old edifice tucked away on the
shore road, so that when he was seated
in a familiar place he could see the
white sails in the harbor and the thin
drift of smoke from passing steamers
on the sound.
The gathering congregation looked
curiously at the dignified, middle aged
stranger who sat in the old Elwood
pew, but he maintained an attitude OF
motionless rigidity, with eyes fixed
steadily on the ripping water beyond
the window He was listening with
painful eagerness for light step.
1t came He heard the swish of silk
and the soft slip of her feet as 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 fiaxen hair and
dark blue eyes.
There would be little change in her
appearance after fifteen years. Her
fair skin might have faded a little,
and her slimness might have become
angularity, but there would be no 9th
er visible alteration. Still, he could
not look.
Two women rustled into the seat be-
hind him and conversed in kissing
whispers that reached his ear with an
noying distinctness.
Lucy Clifford's got on her blue fou-
lard silk, amt sheY'
Eyes! wonder If she's going to sing
today"
81 suppose so. Mr.. Larkin said 1t
would be the last year she could sing
in the choir"
"Her voice is getting terrible thin.
and once in awhile it gives out. She
amt sung for two or three weeks now.
| guess she was saving it SOS she
could sing today"
"Lucy's getting to be regular old
maid Now that she's left alone down
to the old place, 1 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 a pathetic droop to
her once proudly lifted head and a
wistfulness in the full lidded eyes as
she turned toward the congregation.
The organ ceased the white robed
minister entered and knelt In prayer,
and then with triumphant burst OF
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 thai same strain.
He heard the high notes of her thin
soprano above the reedy tenor apd the
rumble of alto and bass, and there was
an uncertain quality in 1t that caused
his heart to beat a little faster in the
rear that her voice might fail altogeth-
err. 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 it 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 a glance of recognition. 1t was
enough for him that he could look
upon Lucy Clifford's sweet face once
again. In the morning he would go
away.
When the long sermon was finished
the organ commenced a well known
prelude, two gray haired wardens
creaked up the aisle and received the
oaken contribution boxes, while the
choir arose to sing the offertory.
Christ the Lord is risen today. Al
le-lu-iaw
That was Lucy's voice rising high
above the other singers, and again Ell
wood felt that tender apprehension
lest she should fail. When the second
stanza was begun her tones were
strained and tremulous.
"She's going to break down. whis-
pered one of the women In the seat be-
hind him.
10 our suns eclipse is GER
1t had happened. With a discordant