The Pacific commercial advertiser. [volume] (Honolulu, Hawaiian Islands) 1856-1888, 1861-01-31

~ MUCH interest III one : dudlT>. is one : Own Ee-
lations.' Her comments did not give me much
uneasiness. however.
| went home one day a little earlier than usual.
| thought a quiet chat with my housekeeper. over
the dining-room fire. would not be unpleasant. |
had begun already. to take altogether more inter
est in her than | was prepared to acknowledge 10
myself. | pictured, a | hurried home. the cheer
fl room. the table handsomely laid. and Mrs.
Smith in her neat, quiet dress. sitting by the fire
with book or work, waiting for the dinner 10 be
brought w. A. | reached my own door, how
ever, | found il open. and three children IF vary
M ages. taking 4 most affectionatc farewell Of
my housekeeper. | had never cared enough for
any one before to experience such an emotion Is
jealousy, but | think no other word would ade-
quately describe my feelings as ! walked into the
Parlor and shut the door. Presently Mrs. smith
made her appearance.
am very sorry, sir, she began.
Not at all, madam
80. but | am. | remember your stipulations
about the children, perfectly. | surely did not
intend they should annoy you. | presumed YOU
would have no objections 10 their coming some
times in your absence, and | like To see them as
often Is | can, hut they shall not be here again
at an hour when you are likely 10 come home. :"
She must have thought me an ungracious boor,
for | growled out, merely,
"NO matter-nO matter II all
| was in an i'll humOr. The pleasant anticipa-
tons with which | had hurried home had not
been realized. Moreover. l suspected | was be
coming too much interested in my housekeeper to
like to be reminded that others had stronger
claims upon her. That evening | sat ON one side
of the bright FIRE, and Mrs. Smith on the other.
| abhor lurnaces-it is one of my whimS. |
loved, when L was a boy. to make pictures in the
fire, and the habit and | have grown old together.
We had sat silently for some time. | was watch
ing in two embers two little boats sailing on low
ingly side by side. At length | asked, abruptly,
"What was Mr.. Smiths business, madam ?"
80 4 n,arahan- H. ura= - q, IT, ra.l- E-,,
and able to give us every luxury until ne failed
50 that was it. He had failed and died, and
LETT her all those children u support. | looked
into the fire again. The boats had driftcd far
apart, and were sailing down a fame colored
river
He on the oen side-she on the other"
unused on, half s~orrowfully, until at length |
said, speaking unconsciously out loud
s. Perhaps l could have stood the children, if it
weren't for thinking that she had loved somebody
else. She'd be looking back, and all the time
comparing me with No. l."
Sir"
My voice had attracted Mrs. Smiths attention
from her book, but she had evidently not under
stood what | said, and was looking up inquiring-
ly. Thank fortune for that. | laughed, a little
nervously, ! imagine.
Nothing. l was not speaking to you. In fact
l think | was talking in my sleep"
She looked down again, and | watched her, in
stead Of the fire. She was pretty-prettier than
| had given her credit for at first. | thought, too,
she might be younger than thirty, as l surveyed
her now. There was a delicate peach blossom
color on her cheek, an innocent, almost girlish
expression on her face. Well, cheek and express
sion were nothing to me. | got upand went dis
consolately to bed.
The next day. my sister-in-hw came to see me.
As usual, she had plenty of suggestions to make
to Mrs. Smith, which that lady received in silence,
but with q peculiar twinkle in her eyes. At
M R;eB,- Fl1n~aZ mo mt, FL, 1;Ir,r-
well, Sandie, " she remarked seating herself,
: since you do not seem disposed to fulfil my pre-
diction and marry your hoUSckeeper, | suppose |
may speak of her freely. | have thought, from
the first, that she was Il very artful woman. |
have no doubt that when she came here, she
meant to marry you. She is very attentive now,
but of course she has her own motives. | can
see. If any trial should come, you would find
out who your friends are
Mrs. Bishop was right in this, for the trial did
come, and l saw who my friend was, my own
friend.
was taken i'll early in the Spring. My sick
ness anne on suddenly. | was attacked with Sc
we're headache and sharp pains in my back. The
first two days Mrs. Bishop spent in assiduous care
of me though, to confess the truth, her atten-
lions were unwelcome, and | would far rather
have been abandoned to the tender mercics of my
housekeepcr, who rarely came into the room when
my siSter-in-law was there. The third morning
my physician pronounced my disease smallpox.
Even in that moment of terror | looked at Eliza
Bishop. Her face paled, and | could see her
hands shake. She spoke in Il trembling voice
Il wish | could stay with you, Sandie | wish
| could. If it were only for myself, / would, bat
my children
- would not have You stay, | answered. Il
would not have you run the risk for worlds. |
trust you have not endangered yourself. Good
bye, sister Eliza"
She went out of the room. and | turned to Mrs.
Smith. who was standing near.
Now you must 60, also. Tn doctor will
find some one to nurse me. and you, too, must
look out for your children"
- must look out for YOU, sir. My duty is
here, now, Live or die, l shall stay with you
while you need me-
The little woman's voice was firm and her eyes
shonc with a clear, r~csolute light. had not
thought she possessed 50 much will and courage.
CONSIDER | said. "Do YOU realize all the
risk You run? OF loathsomc disease, d~isiSure-
mcnt, perhaps a terrible DEATH
:" have considered all. sir. and shall stay"
Was | selfish to allow it? PERHAPS 80, but
even in that hour of deadly peril, |. who had
never loved woman before, longed to have her at
my side, to share my danger, nay, to die, If |
died u live for me, or, failing that, for no other.
| need not give the details Of the sickness which
weeks of terrible suffering when
my body and soul could scarcely cling together.
| look back upon it, strong man as | am, with
shiyering dread.
1t was owing, under God, 10 her, that Death,
who stood waiting at my pillow, day after day,
IT length passed me by. What a nurse she was!
-vigilant, ~sleepless, untiring. Perhaps it was
to her calm courage that she did not take
the disease. She seemed to be always near me,
md yet she found time to make herself look as
neat and even tasteful rs usual. Everything in
the room, after | was able TO notice anything,
in scrupulOus order. Delicate flowers, as
rcsh and sweet a herself, bloOmcd ON my table
| pleasant dreamy, h~alf-light filled the apartment.
What a change from the old clearinghouse
| was thinking of all this gracious care and
a. | sat up for the first time at the
Mary had learned to call her 50
Turing NV illneSs-was out OF the room. but the
okens of her presence were all around me. Pre-
emily she came in and sat down by my side.
.Marv.N said. almost invOluntariIv. I" have