The Wahpeton times. [volume] (Wahpeton, Richland County, Dakota [N.D.]) 1879-1919, 1917-07-19
4 FORGOTTEN LETTER
BY SUSAN Z. cLAoaErT.

The morning was dismal. In that It
was no different from the other morn
ings that had preceded it for six
weeks; but day after day of dull
weather had at last had its effect upon
Patience Winthrop, and she was I'M
deniably depressed. This was strange,
because, as girl and woman, she had
spent cher life in a village that was
more or less enveloped by fog. But
today she hated the fog, the sea, every
thing pertaining to the place she had
called home for thirty-odd years.
She had been watching night after
night with On old friend who for long
had promised herself, and her &C.
quaintances, that her life would go out
"when the sun crossed the line"
Mrs. Wainwright took to her bed
twice year about ten days before the
first equinoxial storm, and there she
would stay until the day following the
twenty-first, when she would get I'D
! feeling as spry as sparrows. Her
neighbors had heard her demands for
so long they had no other thought than
that she would be about as usual after
her ten days. rest. And then the un-
usual happened. Her life went quietly
out as Patience Winthrop watched
with her alone.
This was two days before, and is
only pertinent to the story in so far as
it shows one of the causes of the de-
preston that was pressing her down,
like great hand choking the breath
out of her. The other was the finding
of the letter.
In the gray dawn Of the September
morning as she was turning the leaves
of the Bible lying upon Mrs. Vain
wright's bedside table, she came upon
it, her own name staring up at her
from the following envelope. Mrs.
Wainwright saw it in her hand and
gave little gasp.
II forgot it, Patience. When I re-
membered did not see you and then
I forgot it. John gave it to me long
ago, but forgot. He hadn't ought to
have given it to me. He knew old
peoples mem'ry amt good. But he
did an I jes' plain forgot it." She lay
quiet for little while, then asked the
time. Patience told her.
-Four o'clock an the tides runnin'
out an it's most time for the sun to
cross the line" Her breath came halt
lngly. 'I'm-going-out-t his-time-
Patience, an'-Im-sorry- 'bout-the
| -1ottor-for- 1,o,,sx,o hoon-voo1-
good-to-me." She ended with a
/ sigh. That was all.
All through that day and the next
Patience had felt that life was not
! worth the living. She had not read
the letter. For some reason she was
afraid, but as she stood by the win
dow peering out into the grayness Of
the fog and listening to the ceaseless
rush Of waters against the headland
whereon stood her home, she held 1t
tightly clasped within her hand.
| It was ten years since she had
heard John Wainwright's name.
She heard the bell booming its warn.
ing from the lighthouse across the har-
! Dor and family, afar off, the whistle
of siren. A steamer was in distress
off the shoals.
The rubbing Of her cat against her
brought her back to the warmth Of the
tidy room as knock sounded upon her
door. It was late. too late for visitors,
and she paused an instant before open
ing 1t. She heard fumbling against
the panel as II a hand was searching
for the latch, and she reached the door
as it fell open. A man staggered in,
lurched forward and sprawled upon
the door.