The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1881-09-29
nc1usiOn nnhesitatinu1y hecarse

itOih tAiC way tiiCy Ky hOOuU tuCHl, anu
know the look OF II person on the way to
II business interview off by heart.
Poor people do not wait for introduce
tions to make each others acquaintance.
1t is one of the advantages of poverty
that it is untramMeled by convention
atty.
A week later knew Hetty Deacon to
speak to as We passed each other in the
street; to nod to as we looked at each
other from opposite windows. A month
later seemed to have known her all my
life. l wondered how I had ever man
aged to get on without her sweet compan
ionship-her ready sympathy.
For you never saw any one so inter-
ested in the beautiful young Countesses
and wicked young Dukes Us Hetty was!
She would laugh right merrily over the
funny bits of my stories, and I'm sure |
have seen her eyes qnite bright and tear
full over my deathbed scenes. You know
people always die at great length and
very much more picturesquely on paper
than they do in real life. and 1 was n
great hand at this sort of thing. 1 am a
very old woman now, and an unexpected
legacy has made it quite unnecessary for
me to write fiction for the Million" as
we called our weekly paper, so may say
that much without laying myself open to
the charge of being vainglorious.
Yes, was good hand ut the pathetic
parts. often brought the tears to my
own eyes, and my voice quite faltered as
1 read aloud to Hetty about pale faces on
white pillows, and wan hands that
clasped those that fain would never let
them go.
"How clever you are" she would say
81 should never have thought of that"
Success had had in certain small
way OF my own; success that meant n due
and regular supply of chops and pud-
ding aSd cheap trip to the sea once
every autumn; but this, l felt, was fame,
this was a sip out OF the intoxicating cup
of glory.
1t was such help to me to have some
one near at hand to take an interest i'll
the webs spun with my busy brain.
Somewhile back had tried TIE land
lady's daughter; but the attempt was u
failure. She ate surreptitious sweets
while l read to her, and made nasty
sucking noises over them. l caught her
once in the most thrilling part of a most
thrilling story, making signs with her
fingers to her younger brother through
the chink of the door. Then gave the
thing up, convinced that the higher ed
ucation of the masses was u hopeless af-
fair. But it was different, quite different
with Hetty.
And l grew to love the girl (she was
but 1S) with all my heart There had
been black and terrible troubles in my
past life. All loved had been reft from
Il L., <,,,, in
most blindly had proved untrue. Mine
was a sad story enough; grief and dis
appointment had seemed to wither me;
had made no ties, formed no friend
ships in these latter years. But now, l
sprouts out into little fresh green
branches of leaves all about its hoary
trunk. let Hetty creep into my heart
and nestle there.
Hetty was an artists model.
II only sit for the face and head, of
course" she said, faint flush rising in
her cheek, as she alluded to her de-
formed aud twisted frame; ''it seems
suit for Saint Cecilias, and that sort OF
thing"
$50 should fancy" answered CLAN
cling at the beautiful, spiritual face OPP
site 10 me.
"Of course, with mother to keep, it
has been hard work sometimes, and the
sewing for the linen shops is good
thing to have at hand when studio work
chances to be slack. was getting very
hopeless Just when first we came here.
Do you remember the morning passed
you sitting under the laburnnm tree in
tho park? was on my way to see an ar.
tist then"
II knew you were on the way to see
somebody. You looked business oil
over"
Eyes, dare say did. l felt like it.
I never make better bargain than l
did that day. l was afraid that
should break out singing Ss l came
along the streets home-my heart was as
glad as the lark over there at Number
Ten.
II thought So" 1 put in here; "for l
heard you singing next morning at your
work."
Patience, l think We always loved
each other, even before we ever spoke to
each other. used to peep at you scIoss
tho street. and then, the milkwoman told
mother you were the lady who wrote
stories, 30 peeped oftener than ever.
l think was little frightened of you
at first"
><k Hu,2p