, 1915-09-23

called him Gardener the day they had
set out the roses) OF perhaps even
"Sweetheart7" 1t would not be long.
only q mere Yes or Come to me-"
perhaps; yet even the shortest mlssive
had fts beginning and its ending.
He opened and read
For an instant he stared unbeliev'
ingly. Then the paper cracked to a
ball in his clutched hand, and he made
a hoarse sound which was half Try,
then sat perfectly still, his whole face
shuddering. What he crushed in his
hand was no note of tender love-
phrases; II was an abrupt dismissal.
The staggering contretemps struck
the color from his face and left every
nerve raw and quivertng. To be moth
ing to her. a g she could be nothing to
him7" He felt a CHASTITY inclination to
laugh. Nothing to heri
Presently, his brows frowning heav-
ny, he spread out the crumpled paper
and reread 1t with bitter slowness,
Weighing each phrase. Something
which she had learned since she last
saw him. which lay between them"
She had not known 1t, then, last night,
when they had kissed beside the sun.
dali She had loved him theni What
could there be that thrust them irrev-
ocably apartf
without stopping to think of the
darkness or that the friendly doors of
the ediice would be closed. he caught
up his hat and went swiftly down the
drive to the road, along which he
~1.,n-Al hraathIaaa1u TtA h1,xA 49,.
spangled sky was now streaked with
clouds like faded orchids, and the
shadows on the uneven ground under
his hurried feet made him giddy.
Through the din and hurly-burly Of his
thoughts he vas conscious of dimly-
moving shapes across fences, the
sweet breath of COWS, and a negro Pc
destrian who greeted him in passing.
He was stricken suddenly with tho
thought that Shirley was suffering,
too. 1t seemed incredible that he
should now be raging along a country
road at nightfall to find something
that 81 horribly hurt them both. i
1t was almost dark-save for toSe
starlight-when ne say the shadow Of
the square ivy-grown spire rearing
stark from its huddle of foliage
against the blurred background. He
pushed open the gate and went slowly
up the worn path toward the great
ir%on-bound and hooded door. Under
the larches on either hand the outlines
Of the gravestones doomed pallidly,
and from the bell tower came the faint
inquirtng cry Of q small owl. Valiant
ofNNl lN0lrJn0 ohput hfrn Uyhox -1,Il
he learn here? He read no answer to
the riddle. A little to side Of the
path something showed snowflake on
the ground, and he ven toward 1t.
Nearer, he saw that it was a mass of
flowers, staring up Whitley from the
semi-obscurity from within an iron
railing. He bent over, suddenly noting
the scent; 1t was cape jessamine.
With the curious sensation of almost
~prescience plucking at him. he took a
box of vestas from his pocket and
struck one. 1t Jared up Illuminating
a fat granite slab in which was cut
a name and inscription,
EDWARD sAssooN.
tForgtve ID our trespasses,"
The silence seemed to crash To earth
like q great looktng-glsss and shtver
INTO a million pieces. The wax dropped
from his fingers and In the superven.
ing darkness q numb fright gripped
him by the throat. Shirley had laid
these there. on the grave of the man
his father had killed-the cape jessa-
mines she had wanted that day, for
her motherl He understood.
It came to him at last that there
was a chill mist cropping among the
trees and that he was very cold.