Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1922-02-10
CHAPTER XIX.

It was all strange and bewildering,
thought Peter. 1t was not like any.
thing he had ever connected in his
thoughts with Alix. yet it was all for
her.
The day was warm and still, and
the little church was packed with
flowers and packed with people. Wom-
en- were crying, and men were crying,
too, rather TO his dazed surprise. The
organ was straIning through the
warn, fragrant air, and the old clergy
man, whose venerable, leonine head,
IN lis crown of snowy hair. Peter could
see clearly, spoke In voice that was
thickened with tears. Strangers, or
almost strangers, had been touching
Peters hand respectfully, timldly, had
been praiSing Alix. She had been
good" to this one, good to that one,
they told him; she had always been so
interested" and SO happy"
Her coffin was buried in flowers,
many Of them tie plain flowers she
loved, the gillies and stock and ver-
bena, and even the sweet, sober wall
flowers that were somehow like her.
self. But it was the roses that scented
the whole world fer Alix today, and
fresh creamy buds had been placed
between the waxen fingers. And still
that radiant look of triumphant love
fingered on her quiet face, and still
the faint ghost of q smile touched the
once kindly and merry mouth.
They said good-by TO her at the
church, the villagers and old friends
who had loved her, and Peter and
two or three men alone followed her
down along the winding road that led
to the old cemetery. Cherry was
hanging over the bedside Of her hus-
band, who still mlraculously fingered
through hours Of pain, but as Peter,
responsive to q touch on his arm,
crossed the church porch to blindly
enter the waiting motor car, he saw,
erect and grave, on the front seat,
In bis decent holiday black, and with
his felt hat held in his hands, Kow,
claiming his right to stand beside the
grave of the mistress he had loved
and served so faithfully. The sight of
him, In his clumsy black, instead OF
the usual crisp white, and with a sad
and tear-stained face shook Peter
strangely, but he did not show q sign
of pain.
The twisted low branches of oak
trees threw shadows on the grave
when they finally reached 1t, and sheep
were cropping the watered grass of
the graveyard. The soft autumn sky,
the drift Of snowy clouds across the
blue, the clear shadows on brown
grass under the oaks, all these were
familiar. But Peter still looked dazed-
ly at his black cuff and at the turned
earth next to the doctors headstone,
telling himself again that this was for
Alix. How often he had seen her sit
ting there, with her bright face sobered
and sweet, as she talked lovingly,
eagerly of her father! They had Of
ten come here, Peter the more willing
ly because she was so sensible and
happy about It; she would pack lunch,
button herself into one Of the crisp
blue glnghams, chatter Oh the road
in her usual fashion. And II, for q
few moments, the train of memory
fired by the sight Of the old doctors
grave became too poignant and tears
came, she always scoided herself with
that mixture of childish and maternal
impatience that was so characteristic
of her, and that Peter had seen her
use to this very father years ago!
He remembered her, q tall, awkward
girl, with a volume of Dickens Slip
ping from her lap as she sat on has
sock by the fire, teasing her father,
Seeding and reproaching him. Blazing
red on her high cheekbones, untidy
black hair, quick tongue and ready
laugh that was the AliX Of the old
days, when he had criticized and pat
rOnized her, and told her that she
should be more like Anne and little
Cherry!
He remembered being delegated, one
day, 10 take her into town TO the den
tiSt, and that upon discovering that
the dentist was not in his Office, he had
taken her to the circus instead. She
had been about thirteen, and had eaten
too many peanuts, he thought, and
had lost petticOat in full sight Of the
grandstand. But how grateful and
hannv- she had been -.