Chapter 37 - Page 2

your memory and your heart and you will have none but harsh thoughts of it; nor can I blame you greatly, for you have grown far away from us, and we shall need many years to overtake you. Nor do you need me, Henry--I am too old to learn new ways, and elsewhere than here I should be a hindrance to you rather than a help. But in the larger life to which you go, think of me now and then as one who loves you still, and who will try, in her poor way, with such patience as she has, to carry on the work which you have begun, and which you--Oh, Henry!"

He divined her thought, though her tear-filled eyes spoke sorrow rather than reproach.

"Yes," he said sadly, "which I have abandoned. Yes, Laura, abandoned, fully and forever."

The colonel was greatly moved, but his resolution remained unshaken.

"Laura," he said, taking both her hands in his, "I swear that I should be glad to have you with me. Come away! The place is not fit for you to live in!"

"No, Henry! it cannot be! I could not go! My duty holds me here! God would not forgive me if I abandoned it. Go your way; live your life. Marry some other woman, if you must, who will make you happy. But I shall keep, Henry--nothing can ever take away from me--the memory of one happy summer."

"No, no, Laura, it need not be so! I shall write you. You'll think better of it. But I go to-night--not one hour longer than I must, will I remain in this town. I must bid your mother and Graciella good-bye."

He went into the house. Mrs. Treadwell was excited and sorry, and would have spoken at length, but the colonel's farewells were brief.

"I cannot stop to say more than good-bye, dear Mrs. Treadwell. I have spent a few happy months in my old home, and now I am going away. Laura will tell you the rest."

Graciella was tearfully indignant.

"It was a shame!" she declared. "Peter was a good old nigger, and it wouldn't have done anybody any harm to leave him there. I'd rather be buried beside old Peter than near any of the poor white trash that dug him up--so there! I'm so sorry you're going away; but I hope, sometime," she added stoutly, "to see you in New York! Don't forget!"

"I'll send you my address," said the colonel.