The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1909-03-31

1--WE had taken thought for ln~..
Edward, we had spoken of going
when was it,"
"To-morrow," said Beaufort, be-
hind his paper. "That's all settled. l
had meant to tell you this morning.
Tom. No need to have been in such
a hurry; you know your mother ID
not fond of the Towers"
Il didn't mean any hurry" cried
Tom, very red.
perhaps not, my boy, but it looks
like it. However, we're both of one
mind, which is convenient. The only
thing that is wanted Is a Bradshaw,
for we had not settled yet about the
trains"
"To-morrow's awfully soon. I hope
you won't 60 tomorrow, mother. l
never thought you'd move before a
week at the soonest. l say! I'll be
left all alone here if you go to-moH-
row." Tom cried. But Beaufort took
no notice of his remonstrance, and got
his Bradshaw, and made out his plans
as if it had been the most natural
thing in the. world. A few hours
after, however, Lady Car, who had
allowed that she was tired after the
racket of the past week, was found
to have tainted without giving any
sign of such intentions. 1t was Janet
who found her lying %insensible on her
sofa, and as the girl thought dead,
Janet flew downstairs for help, and
meeting her brother, cried, you have
killed mother!" as she darted past.
And the alarm and horror Of the
household was great. Tom himself
galloped off for the doctor at the most
breakneck pace, and in great com
junction and remorse. But the doc
tor was, on the whole, reassuring
when he came. He pronounced the
patient, who had by that time come
to herself and just as usual,
though a trife Ealer, to be overdone,
which was very we'll explained by all
that she had been going through, and
the unusual strain upon her-but
pronounced her unfit for so long a
journey so soon. When, however,
Beaufort informed him that the
Towers had never agreed with his
wife-an intimation at which the doc
tor, who knew much better than
Beaufort did what the Towers had
been to poor Lady Car, nodded his
head understandingly-he suggested
breaking the journey. And this was
how it happened that the family went
to st. Andrews, where many things
were to happen which no one had
foreseen. Tom, still compunctious.
and as tender as it was possible for
him to be, and unable to persuade
himself that he was not to blame for
his mothers illness, as we'll as much
overwhelmed by the prospect of being
nearly a fortnight, accompanied the
party to that place. He thought he
would take a look at the golf, and at
least would find it easier to get rid
of a few days there than alone in his
own house. To do him justice, he
was a little anxious about his mother,
too. To think that you have killed
your mother OF even had been in
strumental in killing her. is not a
pleasant thought.
Lady Car got quickly we'll amid the
sea breezes. They got her a house on
the cliff, where from her sofa she
could look out upon the sea, and all
the lights and shades Of the Forfsr
coast, and the shadows Of the far dis
tant ships like specks on the horizon,
like hopes (she thought), always ap-
pearing afar, passing away, never
near enough to be possible. She
foated away from all acute pain as
she lay recovering, and recovered,
too, her beloved gift of verse, and
made a very charming but sad little
poem called sails on the Horizon"
expressing this idea. Lady Car
thought to herself, as she lay there,
that her hopes had all been like that,
far away, just within sight, passing
without an approach, without a pos
sibility of coming near. None of
these ever changed their course or
drew near st. Andrews Bay, yet the
white distant sail would hang upon
the horizon line as If it might turn
its helm at any moment and come.
And hope had come only so to Carry
never to stay, only in the distance.
In the quiet of convalesceace and of
that profound Unreasonable despair
which took the form Of perfect peace,
that Remuneration of all that she had
wished for on earth, 1t was a pleasure
for her to put that conceit into words.
1t was only a conceit, she was aware.
TO be Continued.