Abilene weekly reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1888-1935, 1890-01-23

dren presents on the tree one was
dressed as Father Christmas, with some
soft white stuff round her lovely little
face, and mad large dark eyes, which
thought more beautiful than any thing
Ihad ever seen. At last it came my
turn to have a presentCoddly enough,
considered in the light of future events,
it was large monkey. She reached 1t
down from one of the lower boughs OF
the tree and handed it to me, saying:
"Dat is my Christmas present to you,
little Allan Quatermain.
As she did 80 her sleeve, which was
covered with cotton wool, spangled over
with something that shone, touched one
of the tapers-how do not know-and
caught fire, and the flame ran up her
arm towards her throat She stood
quite still 1 suppose that she was
paralyzed with fear; and the ladies who
were near screamed very loud, but did
| nothing. Then some impulse seized
me-perhaps instinct would be better
word to use, considering my age-I
threw myself upon the child, and, beat
ing at the fire with my hands, mercifully
succeeded in extinguishing 1t before 1t
really got hold. Ny wrists were so badly
burned that they had to be wrapped up
in wool for a long time afterwards, but
with the exception of a single burn upon
| her throat, little Stella Carson was not
much hurt
This is all that / remember about the
Christmas tree at the Hall. What hap
pened afterwards is lost to me, but to
this day in my sleep often see little
Stella's sweet face and the start OF ter
TOR in her dark eyes as the fire ran up
her arm. This, however, is not wonder
full, for / had, humanity speaking, saved
the life of her who was destined to be
my wife.
The next event which l can recall
clearly is that my mother and three
brothers all fell i'll of fever, owing, as
afterwards learned, to the poisoning Of
our we'll by some evil-minded person,
who threw dead sheep into it.
Unjust have been while they were Ill
that Squire Carson came one day to the
vicarage. The weather was still cold,
for there was q fire in the study, and I
sat before the fire writing letters on
piece of paper with pencil, while my
father walked up and down the room
talking to himself. Afterwards 1 knew
that he was praying for the lives Of his
wife and children. Presently servant
came TO the door and said that some one
wanted to see him.
"Itis the Squire, sir, }" said the maid.
'and he says he particularly wishes to
see you"
Every WELL" answered my father,
wearily, and presently Squire Carson
came in. His face was white and bag
gard, and his eyes shone so hercely that
1 was afraid of him.
Forgive me for intruding on you at
such a time, Quatermain," he said in
q hoarse voice, 'but tomorrow leave
this place forever, and wish to speak to
you before go-indeed, 1 must speak to
you"
''Shall I send Allan awayP" said my
father, pointing TO me.
mo, let him bide. He will not under
stand" Nor, indeed, did at the time,
but I remembered every word, and in
after years their meaning grew on me.
First tell me" he went on, 'how are
they?" and he pointed upwards with his
thumb =
my wife and two of the boys are be-
yond hope, my father answered, with
groan. 81 do not know how it will go
with the third. The Lords will be
doneI'
THE Lords will be DONE" the Squire
echoed, solemnly. And now, Quater-
main, listen-my wife's gone"
Gomez my father answered. -"Who
with?"
with that foreign cousin Of hers. It |
seems from letter she left that she al |
ways cared for him, not for me. She |
married me because the thought me |
rich English MILFORD. Now she has run
through my property, or most of it, and
she did not care TO cucumber her new
career with child; Stella is Left to me-"
That is what comes OF marrying .
Papist, Carson" said my father. That
was his fault; he was as good and char
liable a man as ever lived, but he was
bigoted. What are you going to do
follow her?'
He laughed bitterly in answer.
Follow her!' he said; why should I
follow her? If l met her 1 might kill
her or him, or both OF them, because Of
the shame they have brought upon my
child's name. No, / never want to look
upon her face again. l trusted her,
tell you, and she has betrayed me. Let
her go and find her fate. But am 60
ing, too. 1 am weary of my life"
Surely, Carson, surely" ssfd my
tAther, ''you do not mean Ii
|sEo. no; not that Death comes soon
enough. BatI will leave this civilized
world that's living lie. We will go
right away into the wilds, my child and 1,
md hide our shame. Whereof Idon'tknow
where. Any where so long as there are
no white faces, no smooth, educated
tongues"
''You are mad, Carson" my father
"How will you liver How
will you educate Stella? Be man and s
i've it down" Ii
81 will be a man, and will live it
LOvn, but not here, Qustcrmain. ESuca-
ioat Vas not she-that woman who
Eas my Wife-was not she highly
cleverest woman in the ,
country, forsooth. Too clover for me-,
auatermain-too clever by half No,
10; Stella shall be brought up Ia q diff ,
erent school; if it be possible. she shall
orget her very name. Goodbye, old
riend, goodbye Cor ever. Do not try to
md me out; hcaceforth shall be like i
ne dead to ySu, 10 you ard all knew" /
nd he was gone,