San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1891-07-31
The 0NIu 0utRbOut film

nlQ ceased, ana he went ABOUT MS work
pale and preoccupied and silent, and
Sundays he strayed off over the fields
instead of listening to little Annie sing
ing in the choir, or walking home with
her as he had been used to do. Perhaps
it did not occur TO him that any one
might be troubled by this; perhaps he
was not aware of it himself; he certainly
did not see the paling of the bloom on
Armies cheek.
But Mrs. Sibley did, and it smote her
heart to see the girls eyes follow John
and fall again, she taking shame to her
self that they did, to see the unconscious,
pretty ways in which she tried to win
him out of his gloom. "She might do
worse" said Mr.. Sibley, when his wife
spoke, to him about it, as a good wife
should He's likely fellow. I'm go
ing to raise his salary the first of the
year. And he'll be a rich man yet
t-father-yOu-yOu wouldn't be
| willing to let the first conner have her
and he, as you may say, sort of-of-
hired MANI"
Hired man bel mean," said Mr..
Sibley, who didn't allow swearing, "hes
my confidential man of business!'
But we don't even know where he
came FROM
STEADY as a clock, faithful as dial.
| There's some out about him somewhere,
of course, but | can't find it. Perhaps
that's it. guess we can find out where
he came from. I'll ask him. | don't
never want ter know, though, a mite
moren l know about him. Always I'M
der our eye, and this the third year.
What's she pale about? Does she think
I wouldn't like it? You tell her | say
she might go further and fare worse!"
"Oh, father, | couldn't speak to her
about itr'
"Well, then, you turn over an go ter
| sleep, an let the Lord take care of it.
Wen l see two young folks a-making
| love l don't believe l can improve on
| natur'."
Perhaps the mother had some of the
same reverence for Annie in her sweet
innocence that John himself had, as she
watched her going about her simple du-
ties and pleasures like something just
| above the earth but not on it. Every
| one in the Port had a touch of this same
feeling about Annie Sibley-the old
| woman to whom she gave an arm on the
street, the little child whose hurt she
soothed, the sick girl with whom she
| watched. Even the sailors in her fathers
lumber schooner counted it luck if they
saw her sweet face before sailing, as
other people do when they see the moon
over their right shoulder. She had the
| gentle word, the gentle deed for all peo-
| pie, the tender judgment, the unfailing
pity,
| "Annie SibbyE," said old Peachblow,
| voicing the sentiment of all the COM
munity, "she's as nigh perfect as they
make EN-"
1t would have been no wonder, then,
had despair fallen ON John Dean when
he found tina he, too, was under the
| spell, and that he would rather be con-
demned for life to the solitary with
bread and water than pass that life with
out her. And what was he that he
should dare
1 As he sat there on the doorstep his
head fell forward on his knees and sob
escaped him full of anguish. In the
next moment some one sat down beside
him, a hand stole into his, and Annie
was whispering some indistinct, COM
| forting murnur. How could he help
returning the clasp of that little hand
with an unconscious strength of grasp
that was ain Dst pain, suddenly raise it
to his lips and cover it with kisses, and
as suddenly fling it from him as though
its touch had stung him, and then, see
ing her withdraw, startled, grieved,
hurt, turn ard snatch her to his wildly
beating hear and hold her as if they
were one body and one soul.
"Oh, what have | done. what have |
done" he CRED, as he opened his arms
and released her. II love you! love
you! and must leave you. must go
away from tere, for can never marry
your
But for al answer little Annie had
only chung ID him the closer, her face up
turned on hi shoulder, with its appeal
ing eyes, the red lips parted, the blush
going and Ginning, the trembling smile
melting to one of tenderest sorrow.
II ought b have gone before it came
to this!" he aid. II have been meaning
to go, day alter day. And l could not,
l could mott Ny viii was strong, but it
could not dag my feet after mer' He
disengaged Der clasp, and took her face
between hi two hands, his great gray
eyes looRin into hers long and passion
ately. Xxi Is mer he said. "Once. For
the last TIM. And now forget mel"
He told 1rs. Sibley that night that as
| rnn,, 10 MI Sihlnu rntr,,.nnd frn,nn his