The Evansville journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ind.) 1866-1870, 1867-01-10
FIVE YEARS OF A LIFE.
BY LOUIS CHI ANpLER MoULroN.
TCONCLUDED.l

Four weeks after that she sat down
alone in her room "a little room
which she had hired in the house of
a kindly, good-tempered neighbor,
whom she could trust to be neither
intrusive nor unfeeling-and set her.
self to look her new life In the face.
Father. lover, home, bright dreams.
happy spring time of youth-all were
i gone. At eighteen she was utterly
alone in the world-alone, and with
her own way to make. She reviewed
her resources, and found only her
needle, that one bright, tiny shaft,
with which to fight her worlds battle.
She had given up all; now she only
to 60 on. Was it 80 easy to do right,
to be good, to live true life, as she
used to think? How far back in the
past that used tt" seemedl A feel
ing of utter desolation, against which
she had struggled successfully before,
overcame her now, and she burst into
a passion of bitter tears
The next morning found her fever
ish and ill, but she would not give up.
To her brave, resilient nature. work,
she felt, would be the best medicine.
And she was not long in finding it,.
She developed as genuine talent for
needle-work as some other women
have shown for art; and before six
months had passed no wardrobe in
Ryefield was considered fashionably
complete that was not of her design
ing. She took up her burden so
bravely and cheerfully that no one
thought of pity, or guessed that she
needed it. Nor after that first night
in her new home, did she ever stop to
pity herself
She met Charley Frye now and then.
and always frankly and cordially; but
he rather avoided such meetings when
it was possible. / think there was a
look in her clear eyes which made
him ashamed of his own worldliness.
Whatever his emotions were, Lucia,
at any rate, had ceased to concern her.
self with them. Her trouble was
stepping stone upon which she mount
ed from girlhood into womanhoOd:
and it would have taken something
more than than silky moustache and
a gallant air to have troubled her
strong, true heart now. She went on
her own way with steady, answering
dignity. respecting her own self so
much that every one else was con-
strained to follow her example.
Still the five years which took her
from eighteen to twenty-three passed
slowly, and left her at their close feel
ing as if youth lay long way behind
her. In these years she had made one
friend, if sincere regard, yet slight in
timacy, can be held to constitute
friendship. Squire Estabrook had
never forgotten her She always stood
in his mind as his ideal of what a
woman might be-the strongest, brav-
est one he had ever known. They
seldom met, but he sent her books
and papers often, and manifested in
many ways a kindly interest in her.
Still she was altogether surprised
when one evening he called to see her;
it was such departure from his usual
stay-at- home habits. He talked lit
tie on Indifferent subjects, and at last
he ASKED her whether she had heard
from her father in all these years.
The quick tears sprang to her eyes;
she had carried this hope deferred
in her own heart so long. 1t was so
hard to answer never" She looked
up at him and shook her head; she
was not strong enough to speak.
Forgive me" he said, penitently,
| am too blunt and laundering even
to speak to a woman. | wanted to
bring 1T round in some way to tell you
that L had letter from him for you.
He sent it under cover to me because
he was not sure that you were still
here; and he fancied if you had gone
away that | would know where to send
it to you"
AS he spoke he drew the letter from
his pocket and gave it to her. Her
hand closed over it convulsively. Her
lips moved, but no words came from
them. He understood that She
wanted to be alone, and got up and
went away silently.
She hurried with the letter to her
own room before she broke the
seal. Her heart swelled almost 10
sutfocatiOn as she opened it. and
glanced at the weak, irregular char
acters which she would never have
known for her fathers hand.
1t told her, in a few brief words.
written apparently with much effort,
that he was very i'll. His physicians
had given up all hope of his recovery;
and having, according to their iudg-
meDt, not long to live, the longing to
see his only child once more had be-
come insupportable Could she for
give him? Would she come to him?
He gave his address-an obscure
street in Western city. He
directed her to apply for funds, ifl
she did not happen TO have them by
her, to his old friend, Lewis East
brook, to whom he would forward the |
money by save conveyance as soon as
she reached him.
She was glad that she had no need |