The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1881-05-05
THE SELF.SACXIFICE.

1t was Western home-plain and
small-the prairies stretching away from
it on all sides in green pillows. Near it
was little group of naples, their ten
der foliage stirring softly in the evening
air. There were a few stars out, and low
in the west crescent moon hung, look
ing for the nonce like broken ring,
one golden half gone.
This thought came to Sarah Vane as
she sat in the low porch, with her face
resting against her hand. Something in
her own heart must have prompted it,
for she sighed quickly, while soft
blush stole over her cheeks.
Everything is divided just so in this
world" She murmured to herself, rising,
the book which had been lying upon her
lap falling to the floor.
She stopped to pick it up, and as she
did so caught the sound Of step in the
distance. Nearer it came, strong, even
and firm, keeping time to tune
melodiously whistled. For a moment
the wife stood. book in hand, listening
attentively; then, look of disappoint-
ment shadowing her eyes and mouth,
she went into the house, closing the
door after her. But the step came for
ward Just the same, and the tune, just
as clear and beautiful as the notes of the
thrush, filled the air with music.
1t was frank, almost boyish face,
though bronzed and bearded, that came
homeward that night, just such an one
as a mother would have delighted in
looking upon because the world had left
no traces of evil upon it. The eyes were
blue and fearless, and the forehead. pro-
tected from sun and wind, was as white
as woman's. Only about the mouth
there was look that would have touch
ed mothers heart to see not an express
sion of sadness wholly, but a grieved
look which sometimes come to the faces
of little children.
As he stepped inte the porch, still
whistling softly, slip of folded paper
lying upon the floor attracted his atten-
ton. He picked it up and read his
wife's name written in well-known
hand upon the back. The impulse was
strong upon him to crush It in his hand,
but something restrained him; whatever
the feeling was that flashed up in his
eyes for the moment, he had, or seemed
to have, perfect control of it. He stood
for awhile with his straw hat in his
hands and then went into the house as
quietly as though no fierce passion had
been graphing hard at his heart. His
wife was sitting by the table, and with
simple, This must be yours, Sarah, he
laid the folded paper beside her.
THANK you," she answered, without
raising her eyes; and Harry Vane passed
on, something very like sob rising in
his throat
IF she had only looked up in my eyes
and said that it was from GEORGE" he
thought; ''if there were not something
from which she has shut me out, l could
bear it better"
Wiping his face and hands and brush
ing his hair, he looked his wife over, a
great, yearning, eager look in his eyes
q greater hunger in his heart. He
thought of the time when she had vel
coined him with kisses-when her arms
had chung fondly about his neck-when
she had whispered loving words in his
ear-when she seemed to love him But
now she had no caresses for him, no
wifely words with which to greet him.
Their lives were narrowed down to
cold, dull routine-all that was beautiful
and sweet gone from them.
The husband sat down to the evening
meal without a word. Somehow, every
thing seemed terribly real to him that
night. Looking about the pretty, taste
full room, he saw it as he had never seen
it before. 1t stood before him like a
living picture, with its homemade or
naments, snowy curtains and neatly laid
table, And the wife too-how fair she
was to housewifly habits and her lady
like ways. No matter if she no longer
loved-if some one else had taken his
place in her heart-of all women she
stood to him the fairest and best. He
was but common fellow, after all, with
little taste for poetry or books, while
George
His thoughts startled him with their
intensity, and he sprang forward so sud-
denly in his chair that Sarah looked up
wonderingly.
What is it, she asked.
The poor fellow looked into her face
with wistful eyes.
I'm afraid cannot make you happy,
he said, in q choked voice. 81 What
shall do Sarah?"
"You can do nothing" she answered
in a low tone. II am g happy as de
serve to be-"
He arose from the table and held on
his hand TO her She did not place herr
in it. She WAS too honest to play doubl,
rama. and she could not show \ love sh,