The Seattle post-intelligencer. [volume] (Seattle, Wash. Terr. [Wash.]) 1888-1914, 1890-09-05

ing of their mother the smaller girl was
seized with q sudden faintness. When
Margaret found that she could not lift her
from the ground. or do anything TO help
her, she flew TO the house for her father.
He was so enraged at being awakened
| from a sleep that he did not seem to under
stand what the child was saying. He took
| her rudely by the arm and thrust her into
| closet.
stay there!" he shouted as be closed the
| door. "You look pale-iike some l have
| seen slipping down the mountain"
Then there was a heavy knocking at the
| outer door, and Margaret's father was met
| by tall stranger who asked hurriediy if a
| certain simple remedy was in the house.
There is q child so sick up yonder,
| said the man, with the tears shining in his
eyes. Perhaps it is your own little daugh-
| ter"
The face of the angry father grew deadly
| pale as he sprang for the remedy. and. I'M
locking the closed door, hurried out to the
mountain side, followed by Margaret.
The sister was soon restored to conscious
| ness by the stranger and q companion OF
his. who was skilled physician.
By the use of the remedies which these
strangers recommended the strength came
back to the child's limbs and the color 10
her face, and in a month she seemed en-
tirely well.
But, though she would not think of
owning it 10 any one, or allow her compan-
ion TO know that she mad such thought,
Margaret was sadly aware that great
change had taken place in her sister.
Even when the mountains were looking
their grandest she would sometimes sit
with far off glance. Often when she
seemed 10 be asleep Margaret knew that
she was wide awake and thinking hard.
At last the young girl said:
Il am no more happy here as used to
be. / have great wish TO go to America,
where lives the man who did so much to
save my life. tho ugh my father looked so
sternly at him as he went away. And our
aunt who lives at Geneva is soon gong to
that land over the sea-"
Have you been sending her many
letters?" Margaret asked, with a face pale
as death.
written to the American stranger, too, il
had only known where to send the words.
/ have not told you, because know how
you love this place and our mothers
grave"
Margaret was so much affected by all
this that she could not speak. She knew
that her sister was like the father. that
when once some strong idea had taken
possession of her mind she would not let it
go.
Even now she sprang up to meet her
parent
Father she cried MAY I not go to
America with aunt-your own sister?
can earn much money there, and l will
come dack to visit you as soon as l can,
and"
"You silly thingl" was hotly answered
at is such wild placel"
But the girl quickly guessed from his ap-
pearance that the aunt had been speaking
to him about the matter.
So she answered back in his own proud
| tones.
"But though you did not like him, the
man who saved my life when / was sick
| was good, and may find him."
Yes; and you may see some one with
| such pale face that you will be afraid and
| run back home again." said the father as
| he put the child aside and went striding
| up the mountain to give some orders to old
Louis.
Margaret overheard all these words.
| She went to her sister when her father was
| gone, and, leading her to the mother 8
| grave, talked with her as calmly as she
| could. But she only learned what she had
! guessed before, that she was firm in her
| determination to cross the Atlantic.
| Then she fully realized that, to keep the
| promise which she had made to her dying
mother, she must leave this grave by which
| she stood, her home. and her father with
| his strange moods, out of which she so
| much wished to lead him.
This trouble has all come from my
| leaving my sister alone when she had
| tainted" Margaret thought sadly. "And
| SO will stay by her though all the rest of
| nv life shall seem sad and lonely"
| And so one night, when her sister was
sleeping, and the father sat before the fire
in one of his most cheerful moods. Mar