Herald and news. [volume] (West Randolph, Vt.) 1878-1943, 1891-09-24


IN myself she gently expostulated.
.If YOU don't mind-if it would not
make too much trouble for you, in a
email. meek voice, II think | would like
n 90 very much There was soft
eptreaty in her eyes that brought him a
fnll step nearer her.
aTrouble. child! Why, if | had not
wanted you would not have asked you,
would II shall only be too glad to have
Won. as you ought to know" He made
4 slight movement as if he might be
going to bend and kiss her, as he used to
40 when she followed him to the door
/ like this, but she drew back quickly,
turning her head to hide her burning
/ blush. He must not imagine that she
/ had followed him for that.
Her strength seemed utterly exhausted
/ as she slowly dragged herself up the
stairs to the room she had made her
/ studio. With feverish energy she had
been devoting herself to painting, for
which she had more taste than talent;
but her logged industry had accom-
plished a considerable amount of work
that was far from bad, and in no other
pursuit could she SO nearly find escape
from her burden of wearisome thought
The room was bare of furniture, save
for few chairs. an easel and a table
covered with an artists litter. Sketches
in oil and water colors were pinned upon
the walls; an unfinished picture was
upon the easel; her palette, untidily set
as she had left it the day before, lay ON
the table, and beside il, in a slender glass
vase, the rosebud she had painted had
burst into perfect bloom. She dropped
heavily upon chair, staring duly
around at her work upon the walls. A
rush Of recollection was upon her. 1t
seemed as if she could see where misery
had made its mark with every stroke of
the brush. 1t seemed that in these
sketches she could see, wri item in hero
glyphic only her eyes might read, the
history of those dreary, dragging months
when with this work she had tried to
fight away thoughts OF the unhappiness
that never relaxed its grip upon her.
She found herself dreamily wondering
why, when death would SO quickly come
at call, she had still lived on, piling the
burdensome days one on top of another.
For what had she been waiting? Was it
in the weak hope that Donald would
come back to her when his tickle fancy
veered again? Perish the thought
She began doggedly working, sketch
ing in the great pink rose below yester-
days painting of its half blown youth,
buther brush moved laggingly. Wearied
she was to the utmost limit Of endurance
Of her colorless home life. of the narrow
routine of the little town. its dull dissi-
pations of church socials and card par
ties its treadmill round Of calling and
gossip peddling. Why was it not better
to die at onceg Or, if she would live, why
should she not make her life somewhat
worth the living? She was fairly rich
Gray's money she had not yet touched,
and between Donald and herself it had
never been mentioned; but she had not
forgotten that it was hers, to do with as
she would. 1t was magician's wand III
Der hand. to open the treasury OF ali
earth's pleasures. She would like TO
study art, and here the opportunity was
hers if she would but take it. She had
always longed for travel: why now was
she hating? OF sudden her resolution
was taken. She would write to her uncle
John at once to make the necessary ar
Judgements and she would go away
where, it did not much matter. And
she\ would go alone; no Van zandt
chaliercn should be thrust upon her upon
plea Of propriety, to drive her mad with
sociability. She would not be coerced
into admiration for the fairest scene of
earth; nobody should drive her into any
lretense Of enjoyment.
With a bitter laugh she leaned back
in her chair, with half shut eyes study
ing the effects of the flower Tacitly
she had been admitting to herself that
her search tor happiness would be fall
ure wherever she might so.
The blooming little servant appeared
at the door IF you please, ma'am. Mrs.
Allen is below, asking to see you' an she
says can't she come right up? She won't
be staying a minute
Anita reluctantly regarded her rose.
There were no more Of its kind IN the
garden, and she had planned to paint 1t
more than once that afternoon But
Mrs Allen must never be denied.
Mrs. Allen had been one of the pio-
neers Of the community. She loved TO
tell how she had. with child in her
arms, driven mule team across the
plains, while her husband managed an
other "outit" in the little caravan that
had migrated together. And the superb
strength that had laughed at the hard
ships Of that overland journey had ever
since. in simple, wholehearted way
been sharing the burdens Of all Orodel-
phia In the early days she had been
mother to all the homesick boys IN the
lamp. nursing them in their sickness
nending for them. and in her blunt
nndliness taking many timely stitcn
N tattered morals. She was everybody
tnend, always with time to spare for
zach ones necessities, and IN some
strange way-for her extravagant charl-
hes had kept her almost poor-always
Ill =. .-+--.-a -, bStaufial aid for q I