Hopkinsville Kentuckian. [volume] (Hopkinsville, Ky.) 1889-1918, 1909-08-03
THE WALL THAT
WAS NOT.
A Story Of a Girls TreaChery to
Her Sister.
BY HELEN RAMspELL.

den sisters, was gathering her sun
flower seed. Miss Emily the younger,
sat on the porch watching her sisters
movements, her sewing lying idle on
her lap. Presently she ventured to
demonstrate.
"Pm quite sure, Rachel, that the
seeds are not nearly ripe enough to
gather and that you are only spelling
your next years crop"
Every we'll In that case I'll buy
some new ones" answered Miss Ra-
chel, cor perhaps we can afford to build
six foot fence on our side Of this
one and grow it over with vines. Any
way, not one Of these seeds is going to
fall on their side"
Miss Emily rose and walked over to
the fence, speaking very softly.
81 don't want them to hear us, Ra-
chel It's like trying to quarrel with
them, and they've always tried to be
friendly. I really can't see why you
hate them so. You used to like Steve
once and his wife is a pleasant, sweet
spoken woman"
SWEET SpOheH-yeSs SuOulu say
that's how she got him"
Miss Emily sighed wistfully.
81 don't see why you hate them So
she repeated.
"You don't2 Humph! Well, you
just once try being nice and polite to
them, and-you needn't be my sister
any longerw
At that moment a girl some twelve
years Of age came out of the house
hold thus condemned by Miss Rachel,
and both the sisters grew silent. They
had been speaking much too low for
their neighbOrs to hear what they
said, and in innocent ignorance the
girl called over, though timidly, as if
half expecting one of the snubs she
so completely failed to understand.
aren't you gathering your seeds
awful early, Miss Belden? It's better
to let them get ripe. They're the
finest sunfowers we've ever seen.
We're sorry they've quit blooming"
To the girl Miss Rachel was silence
! itself. To her sister she replied in
| tones of unuttered indignation too low
for the girl to hear.
eth be a six foot fence next year if
l have to live on dry bread"
sob, Rachel, how it would loOk!'
"We can cover our side with vines"
"But in winter the vines would be
dead, just the same as the flowers"
Without reply Miss Rachel gathered
up her apronful Of great staring seed
cups and assembled the stairs to her
room. Here she went straight to an
old fashioned writing desk and open
ing it, placed the package of seeds in
one of it's many compartments.
Once it was out Of her sight the hard
lines in her comely face relaxed, and
gradually as they faded her natural
expression returned, revealing tears of
suffering and of genuine Kindness as
well.
For a long time she sat there alb
| sorbed in her reverie, and as the sun
light died without new light touched
Miss RacheIs face from within and,
| led by some touch of previous mem
DRY, she opened small locked drawer
and took out a quaint old box Of faint
ly fragrant sandalwood.
1t had grown too dark to see its con
tents plainly, but Miss Rachel did no
need to see them. She knew every
line Of the faded letters that lay there
every detail of the girlish forgetme
not ring In its tiny box beside them
every word of the newspaper notice
of death that lay beneath them, while
every feature OF the photograph that
lay on top was craven deeper in her
heart
Tonight she went over it all once
again-her joy. her passionate, silent
grief then her awakening from her
own bitter sorrow to find that her sis,
ter was suffering also. Then she had
opened her eyes, so long blinded to all
save her own bitter grief, and looked
for the cause Of her sisters to find
that Emily's lover, Stephen Loring
came to see her sister no more.
Questioned, Miss Emily had replied
proudly, with swift flushing cheeks,
that she did not wish him to come,
and Miss Rachel probed no further
Scarcely a year later stephen married
a girl Of a neighboring village, and
Emily, growing paler and gentler day
by day. gave all the love left in her
heart to Rachel which Miss Rachel
silently but deeply reclprocated, all
the more tenderly that Miss Rnily so
often seemed inwardly shrinking be-
fore her, as II in shame at her fate.
With true New England reticence,
mingled with Unborn delicacy, neither
ever spoke OF the others love and
loss, but when Stephen LOring some
twenty years later had come to live
beside them Miss Rachers wrath rose
high against this destroyer Of her gen
tie sisters happiness in life.
"Rachel!'
Miss Emily stood at the door peer
ing into the now dark room.
"Old Mrs Clayton is dying, and
they want you right away"