large/5636/lmm_short_stories_1902_1012_librivox_64kb_mp3/lmmshortstories1902_07_montgomery_64kb_5
large/5636/lmm_short_stories_1902_1012_librivox_64kb_mp3/lmmshortstories1902_07_montgomery_64kb
English
5636
Emily's mother had died at her birth, but Amelia Phillips, twenty years older than the baby sister, had filled the vacant place so well and with such intuitive tenderness that Emily had never been conscious of missing a mother. John Phillips, too, the grave, silent, elder brother, loved and petted the child. EMILY'S MOTHER HAD DIED AT HER BIRTH BUT AMELIA PHILLIPS TWENTY YEARS OLDER THAN THE BABY'S SISTER HAD FILLED THE VACANT PLACE SO WELL AND WITH SUCH INTUITIVE TENDERNESS THAT EMILY HAD NEVER BEEN CONSCIOUS OF MISSING A MOTHER JOHN PHILLIPS TOO THE GRAVE SILENT ELDER BROTHER LOVED AND PETTED THE CHILD
reek beyond the barns where the pine boughs were thrashing in the storm. Emily suddenly thought of a weird story she had once read years before and long forgotten--a story of a soul that went out in a night of storm and blackness and lost its way between earth and heaven. She shuddered and drew the counterpane over her face. "Of all things I hate a fall storm most," she muttered. "It frightens me." Somewhat to her surprise--for even her thoughts were generally well under the control of her unbending will--she could not help thinking of Stephen--thinking of him not tenderly or remorsefully, but impersonally, as of a man who counted for nothing in her life. It was so strange to think of Stephen being ill. She had never known him to have a day's sickness in his life before. She looked back over her life much as if she were glancing with a chill interest at a series of pictures which in no way concerned her. Scene after scene, face after face, flashed out on the background of the darkness. NT MURMUR THAT CAME UP FROM THE CREEK BEYOND THE BARNS WHERE THE PINE BOUGHS WERE THRASHING IN STORM EMILY SUDDENLY THOUGHT OF A WEIRD STORY SHE HAD ONCE READ YEARS BEFORE AND LONG FORGOTTEN A STORY OF A SOUL THAT WENT OUT IN A NIGHT OF STORM AND BLACKNESS AND LOST ITS WAY BETWEEN HEAVEN AND EARTH SHE SHUDDERED AND DREW THE COUNTERPANE OVER HER FACE OF ALL THINGS I HATE A FALSE STORM MOST SHE MUTTERED IT FRIGHTENS ME SOMEWHAT TO HER SURPRISE FOR EVEN HER THOUGHTS WERE GENERALLY WELL UNDER THE CONTROL OF HER UNBENDING WILL SHE COULD NOT HELP THINKING OF STEPHEN THINKING OF HIM NOT TENDERLY OR REMORSEFULLY BUT IMPERSONALLY AS OF A MAN WHO COUNTED FOR NOTHING IN HER LIFE IT WAS SO STRANGE TO THINK OF STEPHEN BEING ILL SHE HAD NEVER KNOWN HIM TO HAVE A DAY'S SICKNESS IN HIS LIFE BEFORE SHE LOOKED BACK OVER HER LIFE MUCH AS IF SHE WERE GLANCING WITH A CHILL INTEREST AT A SERIES OF PICTURES WHICH NO WAY CONCERNED HER SCENE AFTER SCENE FACE AFTER FACE FLASHED OUT ON THE BACKGROUND OF DARKNESS
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