'Cause I hate you, an' I
hate myself!"
For an instant the man gazed at her, perplexed, irresolute; then
he took her right hand and guided it until the revolver muzzle
touched his forehead.
"Peachey," he whispered tenderly, "you hate me--but could you
kill me; Little Peachey?" And he smiled his great, full-hearted
smile.
Then her hand fell, her head sunk upon his breast, and a strong
shuddering filled all her young body.
"Oh, Man, Man!" she breathed, as his arms closed about her.
*****************************************************************
Vol. XXIII No.1 JULY 1910 {pages 74-83}
By Alice MacGowan and Grace MacGowan Cooke
Authors of "Return, A Story of the Sea Islands," etc.
"Is Ellen worse to-day?" The opening and closing of the front
door brought in a swirl of red and yellow leaves from the porch
outside. There came, too, a breath of sharp, sweet October air to
tired little Mrs. Kendrick where she paused, foot on stair, the
tray steadied in her hand, looking back at her husband.
"No. It's just that I got Mary Louise Jackson to come over and
play with her. I can't ask Aunt Dicey to wait on a negro child
like Ma'Lou is, and she's got to eat with Ellen; so I'm----"
"So you're waiting on her yourself," supplied Kendrick, hanging
up a shabby overcoat on the hall rack.
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