Life at High Tide | Page 9

talk, eagerly, of his
invention; but reasonably, it seemed to Lizzie. Indeed, except for the
idea itself, there was nothing that betrayed the unbalanced mind. His
gratitude, too, was sane enough; he had been planning how he could he
useful to her, how he was to do this or that sort of work for her--at least
until his eyes gave out, he said, cheerfully. "But by that time, kind
woman, my invention will be perfected, and you shall have no need to
consider ways and means."
Lizzie, smiling, had left him to his joy, and gone back to sit under her
elm in the twilight, and think soberly of the economies which a
husband--such a husband--would necessitate.
And then Mrs. Butterfield had come panting up to the gate; and now--
"I don't see as I can tell him!" she thought, desperately. To go and say
to Nathaniel, all eager and happy and full of hope as he was, "You must
go to the Farm,"--would be like striking in the face some child that is
holding out its arms to you. Lizzie twisted her hands together. "I just
can't!" But, of course, she would have to. That was all there was to it. If
she married him, why, there would be two to go to the Farm instead of
one. Oh, why wouldn't they give her her pension if she married again!
Her eyes smarted with tears; Nathaniel's pain seemed to her
unendurable.
But all the same, the next morning, heavily, she set out to tell him.
At Dyer's, Jonesville had gathered to see the sight; and as she came up
to the porch, there were nudgings and whisperings, and Hiram Wells,
bolder than the rest, said, "Well, Mis' Graham, this is a fine day for a
weddin'--"
Lizzie Graham, without turning her head, said, coldly, "There ain't
goin' to be no weddin'." Then she went on upstairs to Nathaniel's room.
The idlers on the porch looked at each other and guffawed. "I knowed
Sam was foolin' us," somebody said.
But Sam defended himself. "I tell you I wa'n't foolin'. You ask Rev.
Niles; she told me only yesterday he said he'd tie the knot. I ain't foolin'.
She's changed her mind, that's all."
"Lookin' for a handsomer man," Hiram suggested;--"chance for
yourself, Sam!"

Lizzie, hot-cheeked, heard the laughter, and went on up-stairs.
Nathaniel was sitting on the edge of his bed, his hat on, his poor coat
buttoned to his chin; he was holding his precious bag, gripped in two
nervous hands, on his knee. When he heard her step, he drew a deep
breath.
"Oh, kind woman!" he said; "I'd begun to fear you were not coming."
"I am--a little late," Lizzie said. "I--I was detained."
"It does not matter," he said, cheerfully; "I have had much food for
thought while awaiting you. I have been thinking that this wonderful
invention will be really your gift to humanity, not mine. Had I gone to
the Farm, it would never have been. Now--!" His voice broke for joy.
"Oh, well, I don't know 'bout that," Lizzie said, nervously; "I guess you
could 'a' done it anywheres."
"No, no; it would have been impossible. And think, Lizzie Graham,
what it will mean to the sorrowful world! See," he explained, solemnly;
"we poor creatures have not been able to conceive that of which we
have had no experience; the unborn child cannot know the meaning of
life. If the babe in the womb questioned, What is birth? what is living?
could even its own mother tell it? Nay! So we, questioning: 'God, what
is death? what is immortality?' Not even God can tell us. The unborn
soul, carried in the womb of Time, has waited death to know the things
of Eternity, just as the unborn babe waits birth to know the things of
life. But now, now, is coming to the world the gift of sight!"
There was a pause; Lizzie Graham swallowed once, and set her lips;
then she said, "I am afraid, Nathaniel, that I--I can't marry
you--because--"
"Marry me?" he said, with a confused look.
"We were to get married to-day, you know, Nathaniel?"
"Oh yes," he said.
"Yes; but--but I can't, Nathaniel."
"Never mind," he said. "Shall we go now, kind woman?" He rose,
smiling, and stretched out one groping hand. Involuntarily she took it;
then stood still, and tried to speak. He turned patiently towards her.
"Must we wait longer?" he asked, gently.
"Oh, Nathaniel, I--I don't know what to say, but--"
A startled look came into his face. "Is anything the matter?"
"_Oh!_" Lizzie said. "It just breaks my heart!"

His face turned suddenly gray; he sat down, trembling; the contents of
his bag rattled, and something snapped--perhaps another mirror broke.
He put one hand up to