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Wiggin, Kate Douglas Smith, 1856-1923

"Story of Waitstill Baxter"


You're a Cochranite, ain't you? So was Hetty, and they're all
sisters, so you'll be telling no lies. Good-bye, Rodman, be a
good boy and don't be any trouble to the lady.'
"How I found the station I do not know, nor how I made the
journey, nor where I took the stage-coach. The snow began to fall
and by noon there was a drifting storm. I could not remember
where I was going, nor who the boy was, for just as the snow was
whirling outside, so it was whirling in my brain."
"Mother, I can hardly bear to hear any more; it is too terrible!"
cried Ivory, rising from his chair and pacing the floor.
"I can recall nothing of any account till I awoke in my own bed
weeks afterwards. The strange little boy was there, but Mrs. Day
and Dr. Perry told me what I must have told them--that he was the
child of my dead sister. Those were the last words uttered by the
woman in Brentville; I carried them straight through my illness
and brought them out on the other side more firmly intrenched
than ever."
"If only the truth had come back to you sooner!" sighed Ivory,
coming back to her bedside. "I could have helped you to bear it
all these years. Sorrow is so much lighter when you can share it
with some one else.


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