Lyon County times. [volume] (Silver City, Nev.) 1874-1907, 1891-02-21

porting on his arm an almost PROSTATE
form. The red light was on everything,
on that strong face which, turning for q
moment with quick gesture to look
back at the fire, revealed to Katherine
the well known features, the bushy brows
almost she fancied she could discover
the kindly but reproachful eyes, which
now would probably never again look
into hers.
Angela Stauffer-she had forgotten the
very name until thus rudely recalled to
her. Van Duyn had spoken of her more
than once, had remarked upon her name
Angela.
"a veritable angel she is," he had said
at one time; $50 the patients think. She
sings to them in the twilight when
they are able to listen" At another time
he said:
Little Angela, the nurse, has the
voice of an angel. Last night she sang
something like this:
Sleep, dear one, sleep, and well for thee
Such rest is thine.
The fate to walk life desoLate
Alone Is mine.
Twas pathetic. She has the heart
ache, I'm sure, or she couldn' 'tsing 3d."
How Katherine recalled every word,
branded upon her heart now as by fire.
''Let us go home, John, she said, ''it is
all over;" and as they took their home
ward way in the fading light of the
dying flames she felt that the light had
gone out of her life as well, leaving only
darkness through the coming days. That
light so kindly, so benignant her own
hand had rudely quenched.
Angela Stauffer! Angela Stauffer! How
the name rang in her ears. She woke at
midnight from q vivid dream of young
girl, her brows bound with a wreath Of
fame, singing with the "voice OF an
angel:
The fate to walk life desolate
Alone Is mine.
Summer advanced with ardor, waxed
and waned. The cool of the year drew
on apace. The groves about Fernwood
turned from emerald to ruby and gar
net, then sobered down to dull topaz.
Katherine was much out of doors with
Star, who had not been well through the
summer. Twice had he lain very low.
She had called DR.. Mcneil, the old Scotch
physician, from Southwick. Notin pride,
not in revenge had she called in the new
and forsaken the old. Katherine was very
humble now. Her past was ever before
her, sometimes to accuse and reprOach,
always to humble and soften her. No
one would call her proud now nor
naughty. But she had called DR.. Mcneil
in order to spare herself and out Of pity
to herself.
II cannot endure to see what have
lost" she thought; ''that might have
been mine, but which now belongs to an
other"
She did not know that by SO doing she
was wounding yet more that true heart
which was trying to believe that Kath-
crime Weatherly would never more be
aught to him; that by rejecting his
help---which she had promised never to
do-she had cast away forever all thought
of him.
On one of these fall mornings, as she
walked the wood paths with Star, gath
ering the few late wildfiowers, John
Pidgin came through the grove, market
basket in hand, ON his return from ''relic
huntin'," as he termed his marketing, in
his contempt for northern grown garden
stuff. "As purity as pictur'v he ex-
claimed aloud as his appreciative eyes
caught sight of the beautiful mistress of
Fernwood, her lilac gown dropping down
in long folds from beneath a little shoul-
der wrap very soft and white and cling
ing. Her crown of snow white hair
ah, white now as the driven snow-her
dark brows and darker eyes, the futter-
ing pink Of her cheek, formed picture
indeed, SO quantity sweet, SO poetic one
might fancy she had stepped down from
an old bit of Dresden china into the
midst of the dry autumn wood and the
dying year. Little Star at her side
was very like his mother in feature, the
same straight brows and brilliant eyes.
His dark coat and scarlet cap were in
pretty contrast to Katherine's garments
$50 dainty and ethereal in coloring.
John Pidgin's admiration Of "the