Waterbury evening Democrat., 1890-04-28

turned gratefully toward the kitchen dooF
whom he looked at this.
"Your daughter is very good" he said,
with something IKE lump rising into his
throat.
eyes, few are more 30, hev an idee.
She ken fix snack of vittles 'at almost
any body ken eat, I guess" and he placed
the kneading- board carefully on q chair by
the couch and helped Elchard to the food.
When he had eaten what he wished, he
said:
''Thank you, Mr.. Hartman. Please thank
your daughter, too, for me. Words are not
much to give IN return for such kindness"
''They are plenty, they are plenty! The
one what does good gifts his pay in adoin' Of
it; besides, in the hereafter, if there's some
still acomin' to US, therel be plenty to pay
Us with" and the old man went into the
kitchen and ate his breakfast with Trean.
That evening, as the sun through the
jagged mountain gaps in the west rolled
slowly out of the valley, drawing IT'S back
ward streaming walls of radiance down and
out OF the long vale after it, the daughter
climbed to a seat among the pine trees back
OF the house, and sat down to sew
and rest. But she had no heart for the
needle, and sat with her fine, strong head
thrown back a little, as if the sluggish cur
rents of her life had quickened. Was it the
setting sun that Lit two tiny fires deep back
in the blue darkness of her eyes, or were
they sparks that her heart sent ups All day
her blood had stirred with faint and sweet
delight, and now, when she thought of the
grateful, approving look in the strangers
eyes, the same soft delight seemed to
spread through all her being. For mo-
ment the poverty of her life, the shadow of
dreadful future, and all her heaviness of
spirit, seemed to sink away from her. But
there below her in the valley were the
gables of Bishop Parleys house gazing an
grily toward her, and beyond them two open
doorways in the house where Orson Beam
lived with his widowed mother looking sor-
rowfully up to her, and the night and the
old darkness flowed over her again.
CHAPTER III
ABIT OF HISTORY.
In the evening, after the lamps were
lighted, Orson Beam, with his honest, OK
like tread, came in at the doorway of the
Hartman home. On the threshold he
stumbled slightly and hesitated, then, with
deepening color, nodded to Trean, who,
from her sewing by the lamp, looked up
gravely through the film of darkness,
which seemed always hanging over Ter
face, and bent her head to him; then he
advanced, and offered his hand to Elchard,
who took it eagerly.
"How do you feel by this timel" asked
Beam, unevenly.
"Oh, much better, much better, thank
you," said Elchard, with his face ikAting
up. "Let me thank you for your kindness
last night, and for the pleasure your COM
ing again gives me. Miss Trean has been
doing wonders for me-" flashing his
ing smile, land I have really begun re-
GREETING already the necessity of getting
well, and losing so much that is pleasant
You must not hurry" stammered
Beam, while Trean's eyes were fixed upon
her work, with tremor of almost invisi-
BILE color fleeing up through the shadow
film that saddened her face.
Eyes, the doctor, who was here this
noon, says can not safely go on for two or
three weeks" he answered. II am afraid
they are already growing uneasy over at
Eagles on account Of my absence. 1 wish
there were some way by which I could let
them know
II will go for you," said Beam, taking up
his hat
'Thank you. Oh, not now, sir,' catching
him by the hand in grateful protesting
way. "You are very good indeed, but in
the morning will do quite as well''
'If they are anxious guess had better
go tonight" he said, half doggedly, getting
up.
'Oh, it will never do; you slept none last
night; it is altogether too muchr'
II slept some to-day" gong toward the
door with a feeble sort of laugh. Elchard
reached out his hand. The other came and
took it and stood looking down at his hat
"You are a very good FRIEND" said Elchard,
with fine warmth in his face, ''you have
me at disadvantage now, but sometime l
hope may find chance to return your
kinNnaSS NV hOrEa ic at dionOSa1
I, also, shall be in the future. Tell them,
please, that have cracked rib or two, and
that as soon as they knit little shall be
over on the range. You had best wait till
morning"
'No; it's moonlight. I shan't mind the
ride. I have work to do in the morning.
Goodnight" and he tramped heavily out
When he had gone Elchard said, softly,
without turning his eyes from great
milky star that from over far mountain
top looked in through the open door: ~
like him. He is good, honest fellow and
seems like a brother"
Eyes," said Trean, quietly, and silence
fell between them. After time the girls
father came in with a weary sort of STEP
He sat down and said a few words almost
with his customary childish cheerfulness,
then fell to gazing modify at the floor
He did not light his pipe as usual, and Trean
went to the mantel and filed and brought
1t to him. She said nothing, only laid her
hand on his shoulder with q fond and pity
ing movement as he looked up in half sur
prised and trembling, tender way. Then his
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