The Cheyenne daily leader. [volume] (Cheyenne, Wyo.) 1870-1884, 1881-10-12
A B FALsEHooD.

from MS round OF visits, Win . weary
look on his pale. handsome face. never
too weary. however, to feel interest in
anything the dear mother might have
to tell him.
ARRIVED. have they. motherr II
will be better than having an old empty
house for neighbors. you think, Ell!
Well. l hope indeed it may prove so."
The old lady shook her head doubt
ingly;
about here. and there, and everywhere,
giving orders as though she had my
grey head upon her young shoulders"
The doctor laughed. but it was .
tired laugh, and the old ears, listening,
were keen to detect the sound of wear
mess
"You are tired. my boy" she said.
.aOh, mol" he answered. mot more
than usual. By-the-way, mother. 1 had
. letter from Miriam to-day. They
talk of coming home next summer, but
she says it is impossible to carry out
my proposition Of q marriage In June
THAT her fathers eyesight Is failing
more and more rapidly, and that she
could not think of leaving him."
How long has your engagement
lasted, ArnoldP"
'Four years." he said. despondently.
"Four yearsl And except for Mr..
Featherstone's health you would have
been married long since. Why al no
not make his home with your"
II have proposed hat to Miriam,
but she will not listen to 1t. She has
an absurd idea that I might wake some
fne day fancying him q burden; and
AL my sloquence to the contrary has
TO exercise Il"
But she still holds you to your en-
gagementT
why. motherr' and now there was
: reproach in the young doctors face.
II ask no woman lightly to become
my wife; and c asking. ! need not
TO be held TO my part at least, Of tbs
bond"
"Well. WE'LL 1 hope you may always
Gel 50; but you have not been tried
The to dinner at this mo-
nent interrupted them. and after the
daintily served meal, seated before .
blazing FIRE, in a loose coat and slip
pers, Arnold Clifton mentally congrat-
ulated himself that his duties for the
twenty-four hours were ended.
But his congratulations were prema-
ture- A quick. sharp peal at the bell
clarified him from his reverie. :.
A lad of perhaps fourteen stood on
the threshold rs the servant opened tho
door.
my father has been suddenly taken
ILL.," he said, s'and Sister Ethel told me
to ask you to come in at once, please.
We live next door-only moved In TO-
day."
All this poured forth in q breathless.
boyish treble, which reached the ears
NJ the doctor as he sat within.
IAN right; I will be there In two
minutes" he called out.
Again drawing oil the boots he had
been so glad to draw of, mentally
matchmaking next door neighbors in
| general. and this case in particular, ho
started on his unexpected GRAND.
He had no need to ring the bell.
The boy who had come for him had
stationed himself at the opened door.
and motioned TO him to come up tho
stairs.
At their head stood q young gitl. In
that moment he thought her but a
child. but her air of dignity, as she
held out . little. cold hand of welcome.
and simply said, my father you will
| find very Ill, / fear" made him glance
again into her face. to see if indeed his
mothers words were true, and on
these slight young shoulders was not
set-a grey head.
But no! the face was young and ex-
quisitely lovely. The great blue eyes
looked up at him piteously; the red
| lips quivered; but about her, spite OF
this, was IN air of intesse calm, as
| though she had nerved herself to sup
4 press all signs Of agitation, of grief.
Silently. she led the way into the
room where tho sick man lay. He had
taken q heavy cold, and had been sud
| denly seized with acute rheumatism, in
close proximity to the vital parts.
Instantly Arnold Clifton's profession
al eve saw that the ~ was well-nigh
hopeless. He forgot his fatigue. his
annoyance. as he struggled with all his
skill to battle the grim enemy, but il
vain. As the morning sun came creep.
ing into tho room, q long, low wal
welcomed 1t from that dimly-lighted
chamber where . dead man lay.
Tho doctor lifted in his arms the
slight, unconscious form, which had
stood by his side SO brayely through
these long hours, and bore it from the
place.
On her own bed he laid the girl, then.
almost reluctantly, went to work to
bring her back to . sense OF the reality
of her suffering.
Her swoon was long, but when a
last the blue eyes Enclosed, she made
sudden effort to rise, as though con.
scious that she was needed elsewhere
then, with a shudder, came the rccol
lection that her father could never
need or miss her more. and with a sup
pressed cry Of pain shc fell back on hel
A week passed. The grave had re
ceived its dead; the house was silent
and gloomy. Ethel took little note Of
anything, save that o kind, mothsrly
face was constantly beside her, an6
that many times . day some m en-
tered her room who brought with him
an atmosphere of strength and rest.
She grew to look for his coming. and
to sink back into the old apathy vher
he had gone; but she could not have
told whether he was young or old, Of
described his face or form. Yet 1t wa,
this which made her look upon Arnold
and his mother as old. tried friends
When tho mists scattered at last, and
she knew that she must take up hel
young life again, with this new1y-laid
burden resting in all its weariness up
on it, 1t was to these friends she looked
for advice-to them she detailed bel
fathers plans.
III tn.A~J 49, .1-I A-Al.,. A.