Keowee courier. [volume] (Pickens Court House, S.C.) 1849-current, 1921-11-02
O1SterS
BY
KATHLEEN
NORRIS
nutun1innnilif HnffiET'
CopTtGht b. Ksthjssn Morris

But 1t never seemed as If" she shut
her eyes and shivered-"as if--this-
would come of i'll" she whispered.
"This!" he echoed aghast.
"Oh, think this Is punishment"
Cherry continued. In the same lifeless.
weary tone.
There was silence. The rain
dripped and dripped from the red
woods, the room in which they stood
was in twilight, even Mt noon. Peter
could think Of nothing to say.
About two weeks after the accident
there was change in the tone Of the
physicians who had been giving al
most all their time to Martins case
There was no visible change In Mar
tin, but that fact in itself was so sur
prising that 1t was construed into q
definite hope that he would live
Not rs he had lived, they warned
his wife. 1t would be but a restricted
life; tied to his couch, or permitted,
at best, to move about within Il small
boundary on crutcheS.
"A1artin =! his wife exclaimed pite-
ously, when this was first discussed.
"He has always been SO strong-so
independent He would rather--nc
would infinitely rather be deud" But
her mind was busy graSping the pos
sibilities, too. "He wont suffer too
much?" she asked fearfully.
They FASTENED to assure her that
the chance Of his even partial recov-
cry was still slight, but that In case
Of his convalescence Martin need not
necessarily suffer.
Another day or two went by in the
silent, rain-wrapped house under the
trees; days of quiet footsteps and
whispering, and the .ispinE Of WOOD
fires. Then Martin suddenly was con-
sclous knew his life, fanguidly smiled
at her, thanked the doctors for oc-
casional ease from pain.
"Peter-Tm sorry. It's terrible for
you-terrible !" he said III his new,
hoarse, gentle voice. when he first saw
Peter. They marveled among them
selves that he knew that Alix was
gone. But to Cherry, In one Of the
long hours that she spent sitting be-
side him and holding his big; weak.
strangely white hand, he explained
one day. II knew she was killed." he
said, out Of a silence. II thought we
both wereI"
"How did she ever happen to do it7'
Cherry said. "She was always so sure
Of herself-even when she drove fast :"
~ don't know" he answered. "It
was all like fash, Of course!
never watched her drive-I had such
confidence in herr
Hts in'.rest dropped; she saw that
the tide Of pn'n was slowly rising
again, and glanced at the clock. II
was two; he might not have relief
until four. In his own eyes she saw
reflected the apprehension Of her own.
"You might ask Peter to play some
of that-that rambly stuff he was
playing yesterday" he suggested.
Cherry, only too happy to have him
want anything, to have him helped by
anything, flew to find Beter. Busy
with one Of the trays that were really
beginning to interest and please the
invalid now, she told herself that the
house was different place, now that
one nurse was gone, the doctors COM
Ing only for brief calls, and the dear,
familiar sound of the old piano echo
Ing through the rooms.
Martin came from the fiery furnace
changed in soul and body. It was
thin, gentle, strangely patient man
who was propped In bed for his
Thanksgiving dinner, and whose pain
worn face turned with an apprecatiye
smile tt the decorations and the gifts
that made his room cheerful.
The heavy cloud lightened slowly
but steadily; Martin has, Ii long talk.
dreaded by Cherry from the first hours
of the accident, with his physicians.