Lyon County times. [volume] (Silver City, Nev.) 1874-1907, 1891-02-14

hair, faxen and soft and loosely curling
A child mature beyond his five years,
one who could converse with DR.. Van
Duyn upon the origin and destiny of
Santa Claus, and who could follow John
Pidgin, the stable boy, in most Of his
theological vagaries; for John Pidgin
had many fine flights of fancy in his
roof chamber under the caves. John
Pidgin was speculative. John Pidgin
had many theories.
DR.. John Van Duyn had long loved
Katherine Weatherly. He had told her
so once when he gave her back to herself
and her child after long, low fever.
He asked for them both then to come
into his lonely life and let him live and
care for them. Katherine shrank from
the thought at that time. Roger Wealth
erly, four years dead, was still her hus-
band, albeit not always had he been a
kind husband; and in startling moments
of her married life had she discovered
that her love for the proud, self centered
man was not strong and all absorbing as
when she first knew him. So that his
death was something Of reproach to
her, and that with the final suddenness
and the pathos of it all benumbed and
terrified her heart; and while there was
not the deepest grief there at his death
there was yet deepest self condemnation,
there was the awe and after loneliness,
all Of which combined bore tho SEM
blance Of deep grief to Katherine's mind
the features of grief without its soul.
So was she hell from entertaining the
slightest thought Of love for another.
The very suggestion seemed abhorrent to
her.
Long they sat on this winter day by
the library fire, the doctor and Katherine
and little Star in occasional converse,
quiet, subdued, happy to be together.
The little French clock on the mantel
disturbed the serenity of the room moro
than they. The child dozed of again..
his fair head pillowed on the doctors
arm. Van Duyn carried him back to
his little cot, and after covering him soft
and warm, with a touch gentle AZ wo-
mans, he led Katherine back to her seat
by the freside, where he told her the
story Of how his days were passed, and
how he was bridging over the present
blank and comfortless-with the hope
that he might some day win her; that
she had grown SO dear-so dear; and
could she not hold out just little rush.
light Of assurance that some time such q
thing might be possible-just a faint
glimner that would light him through
the dreary present. But, no; no she
could not. 1t must never be. He must
not talk to her of marriage.
"Oh, DR.. Van Duyn," she cried,
"your coming comforted me 80, but
only to disturb and disquiet me again.
thought could rely upon you, my
trusted physician, my friend. and I SO
friendless."
Sitting sob she went on in dry,
even voice:
"Dr. Van Duyn, never again speak Of
this to me. / did not call you upon such
an errand. Star shall not fall i'll again
if can prevent it."
Cruel words from those fair lips, words
that cut deep. Overcome with humilia-
ton and contrition, hurt to the quick,
the fervor and tenderness now all gone,
Van Duyn dropped Katherine's hand and
left her side. Not trusting himself to
speak he strobe over to the Windows
quaint oriel window, through whose dia-
mond shaped panes he could look out on
last years rose garden standing gaunt,
bereft, dead from blasted hopes.
When he could subdue his voice and
his heart he came back to her.
"Far be it from me. Katherine Wealth
erly, to presume upon any professional
privilege may have in SO far as to
thrust personal matters unwillingly upon
you. God knows meant to help carry
your burden, not to impose anything ad-
ditional upon YOU"
He paused moment, a deathly pallor
ON his face, his hands firmly locked to-
gether. Approaching her by one step
he added in quiet tone:
katherine, forgive me. had hoped
that perhaps this might be. ! have
wanted you so. But believe me when
tell you l will never distress you in this
way again."
Without another word or glance at
her he turned to 60. At the outer door
he hesitated. He came back.
Child" he said, in the same con-
strained voice. not his own, promise
me one thing. If you or the child is
i'll you will call me-promise!"
The tides Of pity and contrition came
sweeping in over her heart, but rallying
with tremendous effort she replied,
with an assumed lightness:
"Oh, yes; will promise that. There
is no other physician at North End. you
| know"
He turned full upon her for one long
moment those deep, unfathomable eyes.
His very soul came out to her in that
expression of wounded love and pride
and stricken hope. She quailed before
that look. She could not brook it.
i In another moment he was gone, and,
as in the steely, cold light of the winter
moon, she saw him stride down the snowy
- \