cination of fishing. It's the
constant expectation of getting a bite that takes your mind away from
all else."

With the autumn evenings came the time for open fires, and Liddy had
hard work to keep her spirits up. There were so many tender
associations lurking in the firelight, and so much that brought back the
past and gone hours of happiness that it was painful instead of
cheerful. Thanksgiving time and the holidays were days of sadness
instead of joy. The long eighteen months of constant dread and suspense
had worn upon her nerves and was slowly changing her from a
light-hearted, happy girl to a saddened, waiting woman. The winter
slowly dragged its weary length, and one evening, about a year from the
time she had attended the military funeral, she broke down entirely. She
had tried piano practice for a time and then reading, but neither
availed to occupy her thoughts or drive away the gloom. Finally she sat
down beside her father, who was reading, and said piteously:

"Father, please talk to me; tell me stories, scold me--anything! I am so
utterly wretched I am ready to cry!"

"My child," he answered tenderly, stroking the fair head that was
resting against his arm, "don't let your mind brood so much upon your
own troubles; try and think how many there are who have more to bear
than you have."

The delicate reproach, though not intended as such by him, was the last
straw, for the next instant her head was down in his lap and she was
sobbing like a child. When the little shower was over she raised her
face and whispered:

"Don't think it's all Charlie, father, or that I forget mother, or how
much you have to bear; for I do not. It's all combined, and the silent
room upstairs added to the dread, that is breaking my heart."

When the day that marked the anniversary of her parting from Manson
arrived she tried another experiment upon herself. The promise she had
made him that day seemed a sacred bond, and she resolved to go alone to
Blue Hill and see how it would affect her. The day was almost identical
to the one two years previous, and when, late in the afternoon, she
arrived at the top, the spot seemed unchanged. The trees were thick with
the same fresh foliage, the birds were there, and around the rock where
they had sat grew the same blue violets. Under a tree was the little
lattice table, just as they had left it. She sat down on the rock and
tried to live over the thoughts and feelings of that day. They a