Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1891-02-21


thing lying on it, which he did not at
first notice, because it was covered with
a sheet.
Augusta walked up to the bed and
gently lifted the sheet, revealing the
sweet face, fringed round about with
golden hair, of little JEANNE in her coffin
Eustace gave an exclamation and started
back violently. He had not been prepared
for such a sight; indeed, it was the first
such sight that he had ever seen, and it
shocked him beyond words. Augusta,
familiarized as she was herself with the
companionship of this beauteous clay cold
terror, had forgotten that suddenly and
without warning, to bring the living into
the presence of the dead is not the wisest
or the kindest thing to do. For, to the
| living, more especially to the young, the
sight of death is horrible. It is such
| fearsome comment on their health and
strength. Youth and strength are merry;
| but who can be merry with yon dead thing
in the upper chamber? Take it awayl
thrust it under groundl it is an insult to
us; it reminds Us that we, too, die like
others. What business has its pallor to
show itself against our rudy cheeks2
'1beg your pardon, whispered Augusta,
realizing something of ali this in a flash,
81 forgot; you do not know-you must be
shocked-forgive mel
"Who is it?" he said, gasping to get
back his breath.
| MY sister" she answered. 1T was to
try and save her life that | wanted the
money When told her that could not
get it she gave up and died. Your uncle
killed her Comet"
| Greatly shocked, he followed her back
| into the sitting room, and then-as soon
as he got his composure-apologize for
| having intruded himself upon her in such
an hour of desolation.
81 am glad to see you, she said, sim
ply; 81 have seen nobody except the doc
tor once and the undertaken twice 1t is
| dreadful to sit alone hour after hour face
| to face with the irretrievable If had
not been SO foolish as to enter into that
agreement with Messrs. Meeson | could
| have got the money by selling my new
| book easily enough, and | should have
! been able to take JEANNE abroad, and
believe that she would have lived-at least
l hoped So But now it is finished and
cannot be helped"
Il wish had known" Numbered Eus-
tace 81 could have lent you the money;
l have hundred and fifty pounds"
you are very good" she answered,
gently; but it is no use talking about it
now, it is finished"
Then Eustace rose and went away, and
! it was not till he found himself in the
! street that he remembered that he had
! never asked Augusta what her plans
were. Indeed, the sight of poor JEANNE
had put everything else out of his head
! However. he consoled himself with the
reflection that he could cali again week
or ten days after the funeral.
Two days later Augusta followed the
remains Of her dearly beloved sister to
| their last resting place, and then came
home on foot, for she was the only
mourner, and sat in her black gown be-
fore the little fire and reflected upon her
| position. What was she to do? She
| could not stay in these rooms. 1t made
| her heart ache every time that her eyes
| fell upon the empty sofa opposite, dinted
as it was with the accustomed weight of
| poor Jeannie's frame. Where was she to
| go, and what was she to do? She might
| get literary employment, but then her
agreement with Messrs Meeson stared
! her in the face. That agreement was
! very widely drawn. 1t bound her to offer
all literary work of any sort that might
| years to Messrs. Meeson at the fixed rate
of per cent. on the published price OBJ
! viously, as it seemed to her, though per-
haps enormously, this clause might be
stretched to include even a newspaper
article, and she knew the malignant nat
ure of Mr. Meeson well enough to be
| quite certain that, if possible, that would
| be done. 1t was true she might manage
| to make bare living out of her work,
| even at the beggarly pay of per cent. :;
| but Augusta was person of spirit. and
| she was determined that she would rather
| starve than that Meeson should again
make huge profits out of her labor. This
avenue being closed to her. she turned
! her mind elsewhere; but, look where she
might, the prospect was equally dark.
| Augustus remarkable literary success
had not been one of much practical ad
vantage to her. for in this country literary
| success does not mean so much as it does
| in some others. AS matter of fact, in
| deed, the average Briton has at heart q
| considerable contempt, if not for Iitera-
| ture, at least for those who produce it.
Literature, in his mind, is connected with
| tire idea of garrets and extreme poverty;
and, therefore, having the national respect
| for money, he in secret, if not in public,
despises it.
Thus it was that, notwithstanding her
success, Augusta had nowhere to turn in
her difficulty. She had absolutely no lit
erary connection Nobody had called
upon her or sought her out in consequence
| of her book One or two authors in
| London and few unknown people from
| different parts of the country and abroad
had written to her-that was all. Had
| she lived in town it might have been
| different; but, unfortunately for her, she
| did not
The more she thought the less clear did
her path become, until, at last, she got
an inspiration. Why not leave England
altogether? She had nothing to keep her
| here, She had cousin--a clergyman
| In New Zealand, whom she had never
seen, but who had read Terminals Vow"
and written her a kind letter about it.
/ That was the one delightful thing about
writing bookstore made friends all over
the world Surely he would take her in
| for awhile and put her in the way of earn
| ing living where Meeson would not be
able to modest her Why should she not
/ go? She had 500 left, and her furniture,
/ which included an expensive invalid chair,
! and her books would fetch another $50 or
/ so--enough to pay for a second class
passage and leave a few pounds in her
| pocket. At the worst it would be
change and she could not go through
more there than she did here; so that very
night she sat down and wrote to her
| clergyman cousin.
CHAPTER V.
THE R. NJ. S. KANGAROO.
= II. =