The silver messenger. (Challis, Idaho) 1890-1912, 1909-06-29

Inc Ola woman came SLOWLY lot
ward.
I've just slipped down to smell
your lavender" said the minister's |
wife. How / love it," She held her
girish face towards the delicate lilac |
bloom Il wonder if you won't sell me |
just one little root. Mrs. Field. I'd
like to try 1t in my garden"
Il amt going to part with one OF
them roots, Mis- Bowden. But I'll give
you some cuttings, If you want me-
"Oh, thank you. I'm just wild to
do something with that garden. We've
been here a month, and we haven't
seen a flower in it yet How long
has that hedge been growing, Mrs.
Field?"
Some of it's twenty year-old,
maybe more. The last l planted was
eleven year ago."
Mrs. Bowden drew a long breath
How dear and oldtimey and strag-
gly it is! Now if my cuttings grow
and you must show me how to manage
them, Mrs. Field,-Ill be the proudest
woman in the world. And when you
sit in church and smell the blossoms,
they'll be SO sweet you'll think it
your own lavender and not mine at
all?"
Il don't go to church." said Mrs.
Field.
On one side of the fence rose the
graves, very distinct in the clear yell
low of the west, and beyond them the
church, distinct and dark On the
other stood the narrow old house,
side window one sheet of quiet ra-
dance. The hedge looked dim and
cloud-like, and seemed to float away
into the softened space. Beyond the
hedge stretched acre after acre of
market-garden, whose already fur
rowed levels were filling with phan-
tom mist. and out of this ghostliness
was blown primeval aroma that
could be subtly detected under that of
the lavender
/ Il don't go to church, repeated Mrs.
Field Il got tired of hearing preach
ers talk about Mary Magdalenes and
the thief on the cross. You'd think
there was only two kinds of COM
m,ndments that ever got broke"
Mrs. Bowder looked rather vague
Il guess everybody gets tired of
preaching sometime" she said. Then
she laughed. 1t seemed easy for her
to do so.
Her neighbor gone. Mrs. Field stood
a moment gazing out into the church
yard. If she had put her hand over
the sunken palings. she could have
touched her husbands tombstone He
had been hard man. A certain rig
idity of conduct had brought him an
enviable reputation. which. after his
death, had ripened and mellowed into
that of the saint. Some fleeing recol.
1ections of their early youth. when
they had both lived away from the
neighborhood, came into his wifes
mind. Then some later and keener
ones that reused and stung her. All
at once she spoke out sharply. "You
helped to drive her to it, John
Field, and then, just like a man. you
had to go and die. and leave me tc
bear it," Her voice rang out, peltine
the air as though with stones. Sin
ner. sinner, sinner."
She went back to her humble tasl
of tying the lavender stalks, but the
, light grew DINNER. the yard begar
to melt away into the gathering dark
ness, and presently she flung hel
apron over the unfinished heap on the
. little table and looked around ant
) about her. II wonder if she'll come,
she said. An added breathlessnes!
took possession of her. Her body ap
peared to strain forward in an atti
: tude of almost painful watchfulness
Il wonder If she'll come tonight" sh,
= repeated, as she went into the house
G Out in the lane each tree was a soft
blurred black, behind which stretche,
the distant and exquisite west. TIL,
, road itself was half-botted track
9 There were the old, shrill noises il
= the hidden grass.
:. Mrs. Field came out to her front
door. Jean" she called softly.
r 1t seemed to her, so sharp was he
t longing. that the girl must rise up be
s fore her out of the brooding darl
All hopes, her desires, her schemes
her ambitions, had resolved then
e selves into that one cry of her forlor
:. heart. She had given up church, mai
s ket, friends, all the petty but absori
e ing threats of country life, and live
(. eleven lonely years in a lonely hous
e that she might be at home wheneve
Jean returned. Against that hour tn
chamber had been kept ready, tn
r. garden pruned and tended in the oil
fashion. There should be nothin
new. nothing accusing and strange
II Jean" and her voice struck int
X the dusk with a passion that was lik
- flame. IF you're dead. come back,
k A step came faltering along the Ian
ID outside.
e jean"
i There was no answer
m Old Mrs. Field went swiftly dow
d the gravel path.
70 The step began to draw nearer.
IF 81 knew you'd come back, Jean, Nv
q been waiting. There's only you an
ID me now. Your fathers dead"
IN Tho guests came and rocked again,