The Elbert County tribune., 1909-04-22
CHAPTER XVIII.

"Ath thC tCaiE Sne SHtu us Sle ar
ranged the driftwood. For Mary Anne
was veritable Niobe these last days,
poor soul, and every spare moment
was given over to weeping. She was,
she told us as she struck the match.
going home to England. where she
hoped she might die happy some day,
If only she could learn to forget. She
could live on her savings, and II not,
work was always to be had when one
about us, too, with protestations of
affection and regret at all that had
happened.
Il looked out fur you." she said; "I
done what could, fur l come to love
you all. and 'ow could 'elp it? 1
made 'em give back your ring, Miss
Elizabeth. which she took often your
finger before you very h'eyes, miss,
when you was 'olding of 'er and on
the rocks in the moonlight Oh, she
was clever. she was. But l made 'er
give it up. I went out that night, but
she was away wi AIRY Graham and
couldn't git it till next day. Which
1t was my shadder and WHY'S you
seen that night, Miss Elise. He, 'alf
crazy, pore lad, because jest as soon
as you was out of sight she up and
jined AIRY Graham and went out on
the water wi i'm. And them red
roses. Miss Gabrielle-you seen 'ow 1t
was And she alwiz 'ad em, alwiz.
couldn't do nothing"
Here she paused for breath.
"And / never, never drugged you
but the once" she continued-"i the
chocolate, you know. I wouldn't do 1t
for neither. of 'em. and very ard they
thought of me for 1t. too; but 'ow
could go for to do 1t and you trustin'
me. even when you card me and
Willy tall1in' in the cellar? And l
brought you the tea myself that last
night, Miss Elise, when she wanted to
give 1t to you 'erself and put powder
in it to send you to sleep; but
wouldn't let 'er. for all she was my
sons wife. Oh, Willy, Willy"
We got rid of her after awhile. and
settled down for our last evening.
while the fire burned with its green,
blue, lavender. and red lights, where
in now found wonderful pictures and
not so very, remote either and the
ocean rolled monotonously outside.
In the first long silence l told the
girls about it-glad that the lamp was
not lighted, and glad also that the
freight did not shine upon my face
Well, they were very. very nice. and
considerate enough to ask but few
searching questions-although they
have since told me they were con-
sumed with the desire to do so.
So the evening passed, and at last
we went unwillingly upstairs, careful
not to mention that it was our last
night in the little cottage, which, in
spite of everything, we still loved.
lay broad awake for long time,
listening to the washing of the
waves and thinking the thoughts that
come to girl but once In lifetime,
when | heard low voice from the
next room. and knew the others were
wakeful also.
Were you surprised, Elizabeth"
Yes, | certainly was"-the en-
phasis in Elizabeth's tone left no
room for doubt. Somehow, never
associated Elise with marriage-or
men either, for that matter"
Neither did l. She'll never be the
same again. but oh, Elizabeth, If it
had been you, what should / have
done?"
And ] was just lying here thinking
how dreadful 1t would have been If It
had happened to you. So long as we
have each other, nothing else mat.
ters."
mo, nothing else matters. | hope
she'll be very happy, but Elise is
well, she's Elise, and can't help won
dering how she is going to like mar.
ried life"
And I wonder. too, for, after all, it
is always like starting a very small
ship across very broad ocean. But
am not afraid of the voyage, for Cor.
don is going with me, and we have
engaged pilot whose name is
spelled with four letters; he is war
ranted to steer a safe course through
every sort of weather, and we both
believe he will bring us safe into port
at last.
THE END.