The Abilene reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1883-1888, 1886-09-09

| the kind of manly honor that never breaks
a contract or disregards promise. Miliy
Grant. the village m:lliner, with whom she
maintained the closest intimacy, had a
great admiration for her because she felt
| that no one but herself had ever sounded
the height and depth and fulness OF Susan :
genuine excellence. She regretted ina!
Susan was not a man, So that she might
marry her.
But Susan, with all her maunish virtues,
was very wOmanly. She was strong to
| sustain and she was tender 10 comfort and
| help. Her heart was capacious aud bal
| ancad her excellent head. The position oi
mother and daughter had been changed
Susan was the wbeel-horSe, as she said, and
she felt protecting fondness for heI
1 mothers fOibles that made up to thatpooI
woman for great deal she had suffered
| They drew together into a uaitsd life.
| Susan knew she could never have TO
| nance and her mothers young career was
! of the greatest interest to her. They lived
it all over again in their leisure hours, re-
! touching the faded colors, that Susan might
| realiZe what it Is TO be young, to win admir-
alton and to have lovers, she who had
| known no youth and could never enter
| personally that magic realm. Mrs. Bowen
| possessed certain remnants Of her old van
| ity, although SO much had been beaten out
| Of her by hard fate. She was little!weak
/ about dress, as SO many bg-gone beauties
are, and she liked to adorn herself with
the vague feeling that somebody might
| still come to admire her, although in fact
| nobody ever did come, at least not for a
long time. Nearly all the small sums that
could be spent on clothes were laid out for
her benefit. Susan contenting herself with
| style of costume in which she always
| looked the same winter and summer,
| spring and fall But she dressed her
mothers still unfaded hair and put on the
becoming ribbons and bits of lace much as
a fond mamma adOrns her little girl. She
admired her mother. more than any one,
and wished to keep her young and pretty a
long time.
Tbe widow still possessed few small
| trinkets which had not yet been parted
with to pay the rent or to furnish neces-
saries By far the most Interesting OF
these. as a memento of her girlhood, was a
| gold locket containing two strands of hair,
! one auburn and the other brown, entWIn 9d
| together, with a curious cipher beneath
them engraved on the gold. The auburn
| lock had belonged to Jane Human when
she was a girl of eighteen. The brown lock
had never grown on Bowel'S head. 1t
| dated back to an earlier romance In Jane
| Humans life, the episode which now most
! deeply engrossed both Susan and her
mother, the period they most frequently
| talked over in confidential moments. In
| Mrs Bowan's workable drawer there was
| q packet of yellow letters, connected with
the lockst and braided strands of hair, and
| a little story OF broken vows and disap-
pc .nted hopes. Jane Human had been
engaged before she met Bowen. There
had been a misunderstanding, a quarrel
perhaps and the ring was given back, and
that was all. But it was great deal to
Susan, indeed. the central point of interest
| in her mothers unfortunate life. Holding
the letters loose in her lap, and with that
| locIet open before her, she would try TO
realize the whole situation.
And TO think. Jane" (she called her
mother Jane in her playful or sentimental
| mOods) Ito think that Ben Fielding is now
a United States Senator, a great man in
his own State, likely to be Governor soon,
and possibly President Just try to i'm
agine how it would be with you if you had
married him. Who would ever suspect
that the possible Mrs. Senator Fielding has
been finishing off slop-shop coats and
trousers all these years at starvation
prices! o, Jane, that was sad day for
you when you quarreled with the future
Senator But where would have been
Lad you married Ben Fielding! l could
never have been born Senator's daughter
presume | should not have come into ex-
istence at all. And l am so large and
strong, such positive character. There is
so much of met is impossible to think
calmly of the narrow escape l made Of not
getting born"
Mrs. Bowen had no great amount of
humor. She generally let Susie's nonsense
go by her like the wind, but it was a very
serious matter to her that she had just
missed being Mrs. Senator Fielding. It in
vested with an amount of romantic inter
est in her own eyes which enabled her to
despise the benighted people who knew not
the Humans. 1t helped her to keep her
young and good-looking. with certain
elegance of manner that Susan admired
because she had naver been able to attain
LII L \
out from that mysterious and fascinating
region. Mrs. Bowen would sigh in answer
to Susau's remark as she turned a seam or
sswed on button:
HE was very high-tempered and over
bearing. Susan, and always would get his
own way. He made mountains out of
molehills and took his religion very hard
las if it had been some sort OF contagious
diseased"
Susan, although she secretly hated the
domineering person her mother drew, al
ways took his part. "Hs had character,
anyway" shipping her thread. There
was something to him. If l had been
there, Jane, suspect l should have been
on his side. But | guess the Senator has
changed good deal. Ipresums now he is
as worldly as Human. They say Wash
ington is a pretty hard place"
He never would go wrong, Susan. You
ought not to suspect such a thing. His
been little moro yielding, or had been a
little less pleasure-loving, things might
have come out different. Pass me that
spool of black twist, Susan"
One Saturday night Susan had gone to
call upon Milly on Main street aud on her
return she burst into the room and found
her mother half asleep, doing in her chair
in the soft brown twilight of a midsummer
evening Mrs. Bowen rubbed her eyes.
| with the dim consciousness that Susan was
excited. "What is the matter" said she,
drowSily, sitting up straight in her chair.
Matter! why, mother, he Is here, visiting
Judge Magnus. He came last night"
Susan uttered the words as if she had been
a Delphic priestess giving forth tbs oracle.
He, Susan; whom do you meanw
s'He, of course: Senator Ben Fielding
''You don't say Ben Fielding has come
back to the village. Well, dare presume
he has forgotten ma. He must think am
dead
you know that is piece of affectation,
mother. 1t is probable ne has made par
ticular inquiries after Jane Human"
Jane Human is dead anyhow. He
| knows nothing about the Widow Bowen,
and don't see that his visit concerns US
Susan, won't you light the Tampa
While Susan was lighting the lamp and
the darkness still fingered, She brought out
her last great piece of news: Mother, be
is a widower; has been one two years"
Il dare presume, Susan. His wife Iheard
was sickly woman. They had three chill
| dren"
''One dead, T." put in Susan laconically. as
she turned up the wick, land the other two
| grown and doing for themselves"
II don't see how it concerns US Susan.
am faded old woman" But her eyes
looked siugularly bright, and her voice
quavered with a new emotion. Susan would
| not give in to her mothers articles She
| L hat
that Senator Ben Fielding was in town
They did not talk much together, and
though both pretended to rest we'll, there
was but little sleep for them that night
The next morning they debated as tc
: fin llH- dacidad Ii, the uarafiua rzrnr,ld