People's voice. [volume] (Wellington, Sumner County, Kansas) 1890-1917, 1894-01-26
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weather now, but still there are fogs
at all times. They are the greatest
trouble we have in approaching this
coast"
81 suppose so. You have to run
slow"
mo; we usually drive right ahead.
It's too expensive to run slow, unless
we are very near the coast or are
doubtful of our position"
'Is not there great danger of col
lision?"
"Yes-for the other boats; | mean
the fishermen. We do not always hear
their little horns, and are close upon
them so quickly it is often too late to
save them. The steamers we do not
fear, as they can make themselves
heard. 1t is the fishermen that are in
danger"
The fshermen And the man who
was once her lover and who had SO
cruelty abandoned her was a fisher
man, on these very banks. He might
be even now in some boat with other
men whom she had known as boys and
school-mates, just beyond that white
bar of mist Should the mist spread
its gray veil wider over the sea they
too might be in deadly peril from the
very ship on which she sailed in such
comfort and luxury.
The Captain had the sense to see that
in some way he had started a melan-
choiy train OF thought in the fair
Americans mind, and with few COM
monplaCe remarks he withdrew to his
duty and the bridge.
In spite of herself, a tear rolled
down her cheek, and she drew her veil
and lay back in the chair to think
perhaps to mourn for the dead past.
Home lay off there over the blue water.
The very sea was home-so near, and
yet SO far away-so easy to reach in
good schooner across this very water,
and yet so difficult. Was he still there
her father? And Sam? He did love
her once. Did he love her now? No,
it could not be. He had surrendered
her to these friends without word or
a sign. And these new friends-this
new father-were they not already
dear to herP She knew not why, but
she had come to love the Judge as if
he were indeed her own father.
Thinking much of these things, she
sat there for some time bathed in the
salt familiar air, warmed by the old
home-lilie sun of her youth. She re-
called the warm yellow stone at the
stlle where, as child, she had sat on
April days IN the warm sunshine,
watching the restless sea. Thinking
much of these things, she did not
notice that many people were coming
up from the stutfy, ill-smelling saloons
to breathe the pure air on deck, till
two women passed her whom she had
not seen before. Both were closely
yelled and were talking in French
One, evidently the maid, helped the
other to steamer chair and wrapped
her snugly in abundant robes, then
left her to rest or sleep in the open
air.
"Some poor traveller who has been
confined to her room so far. A
stranger, too, going perhaps to Amer.
ica-dear America! how love it now!
for the first time"
The lady had hardly been settled by
her maid in the chair before Mai saw
the Judge approaching.
"He's coming to talk with me again.
What can l say to him? what can
say?'
''It'sa lovely morning, Mai, and oui
little pleasure trip is coming
to an end. We shall be at home very
soon and can settle down for the
winter"
He took everything for granted
seemed to think she would accept hi.
home and be for years his guest Wha
could she say or do? She could not q
home. They had cast her off there
had let her go for weeks and month.
without a uword or sign, not even
answering her letters appalling t.
them:tO tell her why they had S,
changed, so cruelty abandoned her
She knew of no way in which sh,
could earn living for herself, and, be
sides, if she could, this new fathe
would never consent to it.
He let her rest in her chair for few
moments, guessing, perhaps, some
thing Of what passed in her mind IL
had already asked her to become hi
daughter, to accept his protection an,
care, and she had, while accepting nj
hospitality. held back her consent t,
become permanently guest in hi
home. 1t was now a good time t,
have it settled, that they might full,
understand each other before they re
turned to his home.
Il know of what you are thinking
my child. Naturally, your thoughts tur
to your old home at the light. Onl
the fact that Capt. Johnson was no
really your father could possibly ez
cuse his neglect of you"
"Who is my father?" she exclaimed
passionately.
81 do not know; but, If you will cor
sent, l should like to have you for m
daughter"
He had taken the seat by her side
and spoke quietly; yet she was sure
was deeply in earnest.
UWhv2 You do not know who or,