Year: 1877

"Call all your fortitude, all your endur-
ance, Miss Grace, said, I" for to a child of
the sunny East this must be almost unen-
durable


"If / were only warm she replied, in
smothered voice from under her mutflings,
" / should think this grand. You see it's
a novelty to me"


Night and the storm came on apace. My
horse began to lag through the thick coming
snow. We had reached that part of our
journey where there were no houses. Lone
ly pasture lands or woods stretched away on
either side. The cold was intense. began
to fear it myself, and felt it, too, accustomed
as / was to its intensity. Miss Grace had
been silent for a long time. | bent toward
her. She raised her eyes to mine.


~ feared you might be feeling the ef-
fects of this cold" said. GLOW does it
affect your


every strangely" she said, slowly, in a
low voice. at is harder to bear than l
thought; but l don't suffer so much as I
did,


| Her words pierced my heart like knife.
| threw my arm about her; | drew her
close to me.


Miss Grace, rouse yourself! Oh, for
Gods sake, do not yield to that feeling of
rest and peace that is coming to you! 1t
is death. Throw it from you!


Her head sank on my shoulder; her
breath sighed over my face, and thrilled
me even then.


ooh, it is sweet! Let me sleep| she
murmured.


at is the sleep OF death y | said, with
my soul in my voice. GAS you love life, as
you value the happiness of those who love
you, rouse yourself. Stand up in the sleigh,
stamp your feet, swing your arms. Do not
keep still


She obeyed me; the first moment caused
an exclamation of pain, but for moment
would not let her desist. She sat down.


"Mr. Lyons" Her voice was faint and
low. bent my head to hear. Unless we
can reach shelter soon, shall be obliged
to yield. 1t is really beyond my endurance. p"
| could not speak my heart was weeping
tears of blood. | could have offered her
the libation of my life, could have mitigated
the agony / knew she was suffering. re-
membered the log cabin of wood-cutter
, and his wife. had ,een it perched upon
the side of one Of those hills. | had
watched for it ever since having tnt> red
upon the deserted road. | knew that unless
light burned within | could not find it
even then 1t might be doubtful. / thought
that, Notwithstanding my efforts, which
did not for one instant remit, if did not
soon find shelter, Miss Grace would yield
to the cold iend that sought her. Her
vigorous will could not long sustain the
attacks upon frame always unused to
cold.


My straining eyes were at last rewarded
by the faint glimmer OF light through the
storm. Fiercely, impatiently, urged my
tired horse up to the door. With Miss
Grace in my arms tried to enter. At first
the inmates were startled by my imperative
summons, but in moment they unbarred
the door, revealing the ruddy glow of the
fire within Motionless, senseless, laid
Runee on the wooden settle, where the yell
low light played over her ice-cold face.


The woman who had welcomed us under
stood the treatment needed to restore ami.
nation to the almost pulseless form. She had
a fire built in the inner room, and took
Runee there. All night she watched, and
worked, and when morning came, the
smile in the languid eyes of her patient
would have rewarded hours of even greater
anxiety.


Early in the morning l rode home, to
tell the story to the fearing ones, who had
waited through the dark hours for US.


Two or three months after the fearful
night, l stood alone with Runee in the little
parlor at Deacon Thaxtons. / stood hold.
ing her hands in mite, looking down at
eyes that shown sweet and humid through
tears which were not of sorrow.


u And the sbssHt lover is q myth" ] said