Prev | Current Page 357 | Next

Reed, Myrtle, 1874-1911

"Old Rose and Silver"


"It wasn't far from town, either. We could take a train at two o'clock,
and reach Holly Springs a little after three. It was half a mile up the
main road from the station, and, as we had no horse, we always walked."
"Nice walk," said Allison, dejectedly.
"I have never been back since--since I was left alone. Sometimes I have
thought my little house ought to have someone to look after it. A house
gets lonely, too, with no one to care for it."
"I suppose so. Is Rose coming back?"
"I have often thought of the little Summer cottages, huddled together
like frightened children, when the life and laughter had gone and Winter
was swiftly approaching. How cold their walls must be and how empty the
heart of a little house, when there is no fire there! So like a woman,
when love has gone out of her life."
Allison sighed and began to sharpen his pencil. Madame observed that his
hands were trembling.
"I see," he said. "I don't deserve to know where she is, and Rose
doesn't want me chasing after her. Never mind--I had it coming to me, I
guess. What a hopeless idiot I've been!"
"Yes," agreed Madame, cordially.


Pages:
345 346 347 348 349 350 351 352 353 354 355 356 357 358 359 360 361 362 363 364 365 366 367 368 369