The daily Cairo bulletin. (Cairo, Ill.) 1878-1???, 1883-07-11

''COUlc Oh uOWHsldlTA' VIC vi tnc WOTk
men has fallen of the new house, ant
they've brought him over here, y"
Good lleavens!' Sybilla exclaimed
rs he killclP"
II don't know" Mrs. Blake answer
ed, with burst of tears. Hes nj
covered with dirt and blood, and, -anC
he looks awfulr'
Mrs. Blake was on the verge Of hyster
les.
''Do 90 and see what they are doing!
she cried Good Heavens! who woulC
have dreamed of such thing9 And al
those men with their muddy boots tramp
ing over my carpet
Where have they taken himp'Sybil
la interrupted, hastily, as she turned
away with ill-disguised contempt,
Unto the library, y sobbed Mrs. Blake
"Ob, don't know how you can bear tc
go in! My nerves could not endure
it."
But Sybilla pushed past her with
prompt determination. AS she entered
the room, she saw little horror-strick'
en- group of men lowering about the
lounge on which the injured man was
lying.
She took several steps towards them,
and then low, startled cry escaped hei
Ups, II was the handsome young work.
man whose splendid physique she had
admired only half an hour previously,
and there he lay, white, crushed, and
bleeding,
"Have you sent for a doctorP" she
said, as she dropped on her knees be-
side the passive, insensible form.
Eyes M, answered one of the work
men, who stood at his head 1--WE sent
right off"
"Who is this manP" she asked, quick
ly, where does he livep"
"Ths man hereP dun no ma'am
His names John Ware. He is new
hand, We don't know nothing about
him.
Don't you know any of his friendsp"
Sybilla asked. Where does he live?"
deed, couldn't tell We, ma am.
l don't know nothing about him."
The doctor came, and his verdict was
a grave one. Sybilla came out of the
library with pale, resolute face.
Margaret" she said, quietly, "they
are going to take him up to my room. q
What" Mrs. Blake screamed, in a
spasm of hysterical horror. "Sybilla,
are you madP"
HE has no friends in the city, and
the doctor says it might be fatal to move
him from the house."
But, Sybilla, it is utterly impossible
for us to keep him here, Think of the
the expense, He's only "a laboring
man, and"
IL will bear whatever expense his
being here may entail upon you"
But suppose he dies on your hands?
Or he may lie here for months! For
Heavens sake, send him to the hospi-
tall"
II cannot think of doing anything 50
inhuman. He may occupy my room.
DO not distress yourself about it. l will
seethat he does not occasion you the
slightest annoyance.
So John Ware was installed in the
little bedroom behind the studio, and
the doctor came and went for weeks be-
fore it was really known that the patient
would recover.
Sybilla nursed him with untiring de-
votion.
You really think he will get well
nowp" she said, with womanly tears in
her eyes.
The doctor took Ter hand and pressed
it warmly.
Yes he answered, "thanks to
your
The patient had been sleeping, but
now he opened his eyes, and they shone
with glad welcome as they fell upon
the pale, sweet face of Sybilla Blake,
81 was just saying, my young friend, v
observed the doctor, II was just say
ing that you owe your life more to Miss
Blake than you owe it to me"
The handsome fellow gave her look
so full of gratitude that it was almost
alteration
81 shall never forget herr he said,
in musical voice which promised to
be rich and deep when hegrew stronger.
al cannot even estimate what | owe
her, much less repay her"
Sybilla did not like to be thanked, and
she slipped away at the first opportun-
ity; but she carried with her the memory
OF that handsome head, with its crown
OF chestnut curls resting softly among
the pillows.
The weeks went on, and John Ware
was convalescent,
1t was one midsummer morning that
he sat at the window of the studio in an
easy chair, while Sybilla made feint
OF working a little in oils.
But what did it mean, the tender
light that shone in John Wares eyes as
they rested on her 1.-the, graceful figure
clad in pure whiteP Why did Sybilla's
hand tremble as it held the palette?
And why was her face SO often suffused
with a sweet conscious blushp
"Why don't you come over here and
talk to me?" he said, with all the pre-
sumption Of an invalid.
81 have something better to do, Mr..
Ware" she answered mischievously.
"But you don't know what YOU are
missing, The little cottage must be
complete now, Here comes van-load
OF new furniture"
Like every woman (and every MANI,
Sybilla had some curiosity, and this an
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