New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1891-12-06
There was no reason why shouldn't 60 home,

Soule. And he made himself interesting when
the two men lounged about the deck during the
voyage. But he did not talk art Bradford
| used to tell himself at those times when he was
alone that he really very grateful that Soule
| did not talk art.
IL seemed to Bradford when he landed that
he had lived q whole lifetime since he had stepped
| foot on American soil
As he strobe up Tremont-st. he accused him
| self of being verify sentimental. His heart
warmed TO every one he met He stopped in at
florists and put flower in his buttonhole. He
wanted to take off his hat to those weary looking
shop-girls who were pouring along the street on
| their way to supper. There always very
| soft spot in his heart for women who looked
tired
| He went to the Parker House and registered
| lie made careful toilet and then dned. He
was delighted because he recognized the waiter
| who served him.
| He tsok cigar and strolled out on the pave
ment. He walked down through Summer-st and
did not stop until he was in the New-York and
New-England station. He found himself inquiring
for train that stopped at Middle Village. Yes,
there was one that evening, the last for the day.
| With his hand in his pocket to take out the
money for his ticket, Bradford changed his mind
He stepped back.
~
! he thought.
| He stood watching the crowd and wondering
what he should do that evening. As he leaned
against the wall ne saw the natty, alert figure
of Robert Soue approaching the ticket window.
He was near enough TO hear him ask for ticket
to Providence. Before the other could turn,
Bradford walked out of the building. He was
ashamed that he should feel relieved that Soule
was not now going TO Middle Village. 1t was
bitter TO him to think that some one should see
her while he did not.
Il will send her something" he said He dis
patched a large box of flowers, and he put his
card among them If he were a lover instead of
a husband. He did not know that these flowers
would be at the mercy of Mr. jerks the station
agent at Middle Village, and that it was uncertain
when he would think best TO tackle up and
deliver them.
As il turned out, however, il was not Mr.. jerks
who carried the package to the Tutte homestead.
While this gentleman was turning the box over
and over and wishing there were some place where
he could peep into it, horse and wagon came
down the narrow road which led to the station.
Ii was Phillip Barrett on his way home from car
rying some apples. He was hailed. He was
asked TO take over the box TO Mrs. Bradford. He
informed that though the express charges
had been paid, Mr. Jenks's bill would he sixty
cents, and perhaps Barrett could pay now and
collect of Mrs. Bradford
Philip put the box under the seat and covered it
with buffalo skin. All the time his slow mind
was revolving round the subject He stepped back
on the platform where Mr.. jerks stood swathed
all about the head with red comforter" with
leather mittens on his hands. He always put on
the leather mittens with the first snow, and, al
though the snow had not lasted the mittens had.
Look here" said Barrett, / don't see how you
make out that Mrs. Bradford owes you anything
If i take along that thing, guess you m she are
square S long s the express is paid on it"
Mr.. jerks meditated.
But you see I've had the handlin' of it," he
said.
Barrett grinned.
Il guess you may throw in the handn of it,
he answered, and drove off,
At the Tuttle house the north front
room, which was in reality the parlor,
now had fire in the air-tight" There
was an easle in it, Unframed canvases
were scattered about. There had even been
an attempt at arranging some draperies, but the
attempt had been given up. 1t was a bare, square
ROOM and O bare, square room it remained.
In the middle of it Rowena stood before her
easel. She had her palette on her thumb, one
brush between her lips and one in her fingers
She was looking at the picture, which was the
tumble-down grist-mill on the old road to the cor
ners. She was looking at it, but she was not see
ing it. There seemed to be a veil of mist before
her eyes There was an odor of midsummer in the
ROOM The flowers Bradford had sent in
half dozen white crockery dishes here and there.
But Rowena not thinking of the flowers
she was not thinking of her work; she was think
ing of nothing. She only indefinitely conscious
of some dull power which held her in thrall. This
same dull power she had felt clutching her for a
long time She had been at home for nearly four
weeks. 1t did not seem to her that she any
comfort to her folks" She had a suspicion that
her mother was constantly afraid things were not
good enough for her" She too socitous.
Ii almost seemed as If the wife of Keats Bradford
had taken the place of Rowena. And yet Rowena
doubted her suspicious She did not feel
sure even of the eternal verities She had thought
life was a puzzle over there in Paris But her
work had been exciting interest. And there
had been people there who were aware that she
had some skin, and who watched, and criticised
applauded Here there was no one. In ter
ror she asked herself if she cared for anything
more than for the work itself She questioned
herself great deal in these days
1t is when one asks no questions, but only lives,
that one may be happy. IL IS when one undOubt- |
ingly follows an inspiration that one does good
work
The door of the was pushed open very
little and head thrust in. AT the same
time, Msrmaduke walked in through the opening. |
Oh, you're real busy, amt you?" said Sarah
NO, I'm not busy at all. Come in"
Sarah kimball's body followed her head. She |
shifted loudly.
"Oh, amt it sweet here? p she explained. |
and them roses in the se,tin' room are jest as
sweet That's the grist-mill, amt il ?"
Mrs. Tuttle did not often allow this daughter TO
90 to Rowena's room lest she might be a disturb |
Ing, element. To Mrs. Tuttle's mind, her eldest
child was engaged in some mysterious rite which |
must be sacredly respected
Yes; it's the gristmill," answered Rowena |
She began cleaning her brushes. She almost de. |
cided that it was that air-tight stove which in |
tercepted all enthusiasm.
Sarah Kimball advanced and began 10 turn |
slowly round in the middle of the room before her