Lyon County times. [volume] (Silver City, Nev.) 1874-1907, 1888-09-29

mightier for her coldneSS content il hereat-
ter it might throw a little brightness on the
path her snowy feet should tread; content if
she would but let him warm her cold heart
with his tenderness
Are you glad to be at homer' he asked,
gently.
"Do you call this home, with my servant
it's mistress}" For a moment it was Bertha,
as she used to be, her anger curling her red
lips and flashing new fire into her tired eyeA
Does she insult youY'
''It is insult enough that she is my fathers
wife. She can not go beyond that"
''Shall you stay here alwayp asked Philip
stupidity enough.
81 suppose SO; where else is there2"
A wild impulse touched him. he loved her
and she needed love, had he not waited long
enough? But sudden fear came into his
mind and chilled his hope like frozen foun-
tain. She might have a child-how strange
he had never thought of it before. All it
would be a strong love which could endure
that, a baby to hang on her bosom and take
her kisses, a baby with Curran's face. Nc,
he could never bear that, anything better
than that. Her sin he could forgive. Though
it must Enger forever in his memory, he
would bury it beneath more blessed expe-
riences. His love should hallow her, he would
kiss away CuIran's caresses from her lips
But if there were a child
Philip started violently and looked at the
door; he fancied he heard sound like the
pattering Of infant feet Ina moment Bertha
would catch to her arms her child and Cur
rams, and half smother it with a mothers
kisses.
''Ll't that a child's voice2' he cried, rising
to - feet and his eyes rested on her in q new
pitiful roproach. lie thought she started
strangely, as if mothers instincts stirred
in her bosom.
ooh, no; it is only Jane-I mean Mrs
Ellingsworth. What an innocent little laugh
she has"
A child, with sweet winning ways, is a
strange thing to hate, a lovely little rose
bud to blossom no one knows how faultlessly
by and by. But Philip thought he would
hate her child-Berthas child, perhaps with
his darling's star like eyes; ah, was it not
Curran's, too, the symbol of her shame' AS
he walked home in the twilight he saw in
each toddling baby in the doorways and
windows, an image of his own materiali2ed
fear and horror. Philip looked back from
the hill ON which stood his home to the vii
lage his father had built up Those massive
mills with their thousands of looms were his
those long rows Of white houses, each one of
which held a family rich in possibilities Of
virtue and hope, they all were his, and the
new element of brightness and thrift, that had
made the whole village a nursery of comfort
and happiness was his work. Behind him
was the great stone mansion with it's arched
gothic windows green with clustering wood
bine, it was his too. How powerless he
thought all that wealth and material power
can do to solve one of the terrible problems a
heart makes for itself
Moodily he walked to his stables, in kind
of vague longing for companionship, and
threw open the doors. Four horses stood in
their stalls within, noble looking creatures
all of them. They turned their stately heads
toward the sound of their masters feet; they
returned his love with love. One of them
ITO BE CONTINUED.