The star. (Cincinnati [Ohio]) 1874-1875, 1875-04-24
Patient. Waiting No Loss.

"a matter of three hours, miss, be
r fore the down-train comes in"
, The girl turned away, with a quick
: impatient sigh.
Three hours still to wait in thi
| wretched little country wayside sta
tion, with not q human being for com
panfonship, and the very stage-driyer
Of whom she had received this dismal in
formation, was hurrying away, cracking
his whip carelessly, swinging himself uI
to his place on the numbering old stage
and leaving her to utter solitude.
Esther Fame drew her shabby cloal
more closely about her, and sat down u
wait.
Yet she wa not SO entirely without
companionshS after all. Harassine
thoughts thronged in, and broke the
quiet. In this place, Of all others, they
rid herself of them, she rose and wen
out on the narrow platform, walking up
and down. But every time she raised
her eyes to the shaky old black-lettered
sign above the shed-like station, those
thoughts grew more clamorous, with al
their memories.
"Pine Barrens," said the sign-board
and said memory, "The place where you
Esther Fame, once knew your creates
gladness and your greatest misery. Dc
you remember, Esther, how you came
here once before, at this New Years
season three long years ago, upon
a visit to pleasant Mrs. War
ington? = How Philip March was
too? - how you and he wandered
over the wide Pine Barrens, and found
the rose of love blossoming thereI-how
u trife between you at last, and he was
Jealous and you proud, and you sent
him away forever, with a careless smile,
to break your heart over the parting al.
terward, up stairs in your own room
And then your father died, and your for.
tune was gone, and you thrown alone
upon the world, quiet out of Warning
toms ken, to earn your bread. 1t has
been weary time, these two long years,
and this place you are now going to as
nursery-goyerness, can you hope it will
be less hard, Esther, than the one which
you have lett? Will there not be cold
New Years greeting for you, at the end
Of your three hours waiting here, and
| three hOurs' longer journeying by the
down-trainY How cold and dreary the
Pine Barrens now! and yonder-far
away up yonder hill-the smoke is curl
ing up so cheerfully from Mrs. Warning
toms chlmneys, through the trees. What
sort OF welcome do you think she would
give the nursery-governess, in her
shabby cloak and limp crape-veil?
Esther Fame shrugged her shoulders,
as il in answer to the mocking thought.
She would gaze no longer, over the pine
flats, up to the Warrington chimney
smoke. That New Year cheer was not
for her, and she went inside the shed,
and seated herself upon the bench
against the wall, the only attempt at
furniture of the poor place.
The girl was very weary. She had
come by stage a long, long way to-day
already. She had reached the station
here just i've minutes too late tor the
train she mad wished to take, having
been delayed by an accident to one OF
the wheels over the rough roads.
The day was wearing away now; the
three hours OF waiting would bring ber
into the dusk.
She was very cold, and very faint and
weary. Yet what should she do! She
wrapped her thin, worn cloak about
her, and leaned back against the wall.
'"Patient waiting no loss" she said to
herself, with pitt. .ul smile.
How her hands ached, and her feet
and how the wind came whistling
through the boarded walls, and chilled
her to her heart!
She was too tired out to walk; 1t
seemed to be better to shrink down in a
corner and rest; and so her weary head
sank lower, lower on her breast.
And presently she was no longer in
the ruinous old station-she was no
longer aching from her heart through
all ner weary frame-she was no longer
staring .blankly out before her, through
the open doorway, at the sullen leaden
sky, and the wide stretch OF brown
sedge-coyered plats-'but she was in
that library of Mrs. Warrington's.
The crimson curtains were drawn
down to shut out the dark night; the
ruddy flames were leaping up in the
wide hearth; she, Esther Fame, for all
her shabby mourning-dress, was leaning
back in that deep velvet easy-chair, and
Philip March was leaning on the back,
his lips close to her ear.
And he was saying-saying-
There the dream had faded into deeper
slumber.
She had slipped down sideways on the
bench. Her bonnet had fallen back,
with it's limp Grape veil. The pale, still
face was lying upLurned, with the golden
hair waving away from 1t, and the long,,
dark lashes resting in death-like still
ness on the marble cheek. So still, so
M0NeleSS Ill tuc uCdLuly COlul w GIG Ill
dreams over for her now, upon this side
of the graveS
And he was saying-saying-
Had the dream paused there, and then
begun again? For that was Philips
voice.
"Esther, my darlingl have found you
again, only for thisw
Somehow the dream was broken; the
agony OF that cry was too real. Esther
Fame opened her r'eyes slowly.
She had wakened from her dream, in
deed. She was lying ON the bench in the
old station. The dusk had closed in
yonder doorway, and in here
In herep Had the dream vanished Ut
terly? For as she turned her head
1t was his voice in her ear-it was his
arms that lifted her against his bI east
his lips that brought back life to hers.
awake. Esther! Oh, my darling, If
you should have passed away from me
IN your sleepV
1t was SO dark she could not see his
face, only the dim outline of his figure;
but she Knew his voice-for all those
three long years she knew his voice
and il told her that he loved her yet.
"How did you find me, PhilipT she
asked, after a pause.
III was leaving my sister, Mrs. Waf-
by the down-train, which is
due in a few minutes now. l came in
here to wait, and by the light Of my cigar