Waterbury evening Democrat. [volume] (Waterbury, Conn.) 1887-1895, 1891-05-18


leisure to think in those sad DAYS; but
the burden of her cares robbed her
cheek of its bloom, and her step of the
elasticity of youth.
The miners Of the town were kind,
and brought wild honey and game from
the woods, and salmon from the stream
to tempt the sick mans appetite. They
watched, too, by his bed at night, when
Barb could be persuaded to leave him to
take some rest, which was seldom. One
evening, the close Of a trying day, Barb
sat on a rude bench outside the door In
an attitude Of apathetic WEAKNESS.
Gaines was with Sandy. 'Gentleman
Gaines" he was called In the camp.
Through all Sandy sickness Gaines had
been a frequent visitor. He was q
young mining engineer, and Sandy
found solid pleasure in his companion
ship, and, now that George was gone,
looked eagerly for his daily visit.
As Barb listened to the murmur OF
Gaines voice, she fell into a painful
reverie, In which the past, the present
and the unknown future were mingled.
So deep was her abstraction that she
took no heed OF time, and did not notice
that Gaines had seated himself beside
her. She looked at him with some sur
prise as he gently took her hand in his,
andheblushed like schoolgirl under her
gaze. He was handsome, manly young
fellow of three and twenty, who had
come to Las Cheritas in company with
Sandy and Capt. George, when the ex-
element over the acknowledgements
mines was at its height.
'cBarb," said he, "I've been talking
with your father"
eyes," she said, with an inquiring in
donation, gazing at the hand which he
still held, but making no attempt to
withdraw it.
HE can't last long, not more than
couple of weeks at most"
Barb drew her hand sharply out of
his clasp, but spoke no word. Gaines
repossessed himself Of it, and with
gentle force compelled her to look at
him.
Barb, my poor stricken Barb, suf-
fer with you in your sorrow," he said,
''for love you. Dear, do you under
stand what mean when say that?"
"Do understand what love is?" she
answered in a tone Of anguish. "Oh,
yes, understand
"Then listen, my darling," he con-
tinued; 81 have talked with Sandy, and
he told me might speak to you. It
would soothe your fathers last hours to
know that your future Is safe. VIII
you marry me, Barb?" -.
''Wait, oh waltz she answered.
''When he is gone I'll tell you. can't
think, won't think, Of anything but
pap"
But + may hope, Barb?' Barb
thought of her own suffering In the
weeks just past. Here was one who
loved her; as she loved the man she
would never see again. Her future was
n blank. Why not be Gaines wife when
her father was dead, even though she
could never love hima She would try,
earnestly try, to make him happy.
"You may hope" she answered, ris-
ing.
Gaines trembled in the excess of his
great joy and tears rushed to his eyes.
kiss me, Barb" : s.. i u
And Barb, who had refused and fed
from the caress of the man she loved,
bent over Gaines without blush, kissed
him upon the lips, then passed into the
house with calm step.
On this same evening Capt. George,
worn with his long Journey, yet as
eager and joyous as q boy, reached the
little New England village which had
been his boyhood's home. &c.
1t was nightfall when the wheezy lit
tie engine pulled It's way up TO the sta
ton and he alghted from the train, but
it was not SO dark but that he could
recognize every familiar landmark.
"I'll go to Agnes first" he thought.
"Ray must wait this time" How high
his heart beat as every step brought
him nearer to the woman who had been
his inspiration all these years
There's Deacon Gubbs' house." he
said to himself. "An' I'm blest If there
amt the deacon himself sittin' by the
table readin' by the light of dip, jest
as he ustT to twenty years ago. when