The Pickens sentinel. [volume] (Pickens, S.C.) 1871-1903, 1881-01-13
in A SHANTY.

oNN~ V.
Wallace Alwade turned partly around
facing the small, delicate woman, who
stood but partially revealed in the shad.
ows OF the long, low-roofed shanty.
For one instant he stood gazing in
tently into the pale face of the timid.
retlr1ng creature before him, then ex-
tended his hand, with polite bow and
pleasant word of greeting.
"Melth. the cook"
What thrill shot through his heart at
the mention of the name. AS their hands
clasped in the dim freight, and he
gazed down into the pale face of the
shrinking figure before him, Wallace
Alwade's mind grew troubled.
That face, so thin and pale, with long
ing, regretful shadows lurking in the
violeteyes, touoheda half-forgotten chord
in his bachelor heart It was but
dreamy reflection of the past, however.
He remembered where he was, and
turned away without thinking deeply.
1t was not likely that an almost forgotten
dream would meet with fruition in place
like this, Aingy lumber shanty in the
heart OF the great pine woods.
minute later the jingle of sleigh
bells cut the frosty night mir.
"Well, Mrs. Watson, I must be going"
n.'Ao oilo AuhpeI oeu1er, turning toward
the door.
"Won't you stay all night, Mr.. Al
wade?"
I impossible, my good woman. Ihave
important business to attend to in town.
[ find that your husband is managing
affairs very well in the woods. I think I
can safely trust him to 60 on with the
job"
''Tattlers' tongues to the contrary.
eb?" returned the rosy-faced matron,
, with ripping laugh.
eyes, the stories have heard are all
false, Mrs. Watson. [ shan't trouble
myself about these flying reports again,
rest assured"
"Thank you, Mr.. Alwade. My hus-
band shall know OF your generosity"
Facts are stubborn things" returned
Alwade. '"rhe job is progressing well
under Mr.. Watson's management. and 7
am only too glad to place the credit
where it belongs" ~
Thus speaking the rich lumberman
left the room and entered the sleigh that
stood waiting at the door. .:..
Speeding over the glistening snow,
under the tall pines, with the keen win
ter air cutting like q knife, Wallace AL
wade felt strangely invigorated after
contact with the close air Of the lumber
shanty.
That evening, after reaching his room.
Alwade found time for reflection. The
face of "Melth, the cook" pale, worn
and timid, haunted him once more.
like the dim memory Of n half-forpotten
dream. Why did he give the pale-faced
shanty cook second thought? Simply
because this was not the first time he
had seen that face. In pondering over
the subject, Alwade came suddenly into
full knowledge why he had been so
strangely affected at meeting Meth.
A vision OF the long ago was before
him. He stood under the gaslight plead
ing for the love Of as beautiful q girl as
the sun ever shone on. He could see
the naughty curl Of the full red lips, see
the scornful flash of those violet eyes,
and even feel the sting of the words that
fell from the maiden's lips, refusing him,
laughing to scorn all his passionate plead
in9s; and all because he was but poor
law student, without name or fortune in
the world. His hopes were crushed for
ever. he went our into the world with
bitter pain in his heart, yet unable even
then to conquer the love that had mas
tered him so utterly.
That was twelve years ago; twelve
painful years to Wallace Alwade. Out
West, under the shadows of the Michi-
gan pines, he had built up fortune,
and stood one OF the foremost mon In
the strong, vigorous young State where
our story is located. For twelve years
he had heard nothing of Meltha Bayne.
Was it-wonderful. then, that he failed to
recognize in ''Melth, the cook" the self
willed, imperious beauty who had scorn-
ed him in his youth.
After hours Of thought he was not
fully satisfied It could not be that
Melths BaynO had fallen 80 low as this,
cook in one Of his logging shanties
That night the face of Meth haunted