Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1894-10-27

'She? Dye mean Mrs. Spencer3 Well,
she's dead. poor SOUL"
''Dead!"
He would have fallen but for the stem of
the eucalyptus tree. He leaned against it,
shivering. His eyes gazed dreamily at the
sunshine in the road-at the sunshine and
the clump of aodding sunffowers, and the
white pinafore of little girl, who was
playing around their tall stalks. He even
followed with his eyes the flight Of a scarlet
butterfly, as it fiuttered quiveringly from
flower to flower. 1t seemed as if his brain
was rumbed and unable to think. Try as
he would, he could not think.
The woman looked at him compassion
ately.
I'm sorry If I've skeered you." she said,
more gently. VI just didn't know as you
were acquainted with Mrs. Spencer. or l
wouldn't have bluffed it out like that. But
it's the truth, anyway; SO it 'dd have had
to come out all the same, one word or one
thousand Maybe ye'd like drink of Ice
water. she. added quickly, as she rose from
her chair.
The man motioned to her with his hand.
1t had fallen from his breast now.
mo, no. he whispered Tell mellow it
was"
The thoughts were coming back to him
now-black, evil thou ghts, that he shud
dered vaguely to remember; thoughts OF
what he had come there for; thoughts of
how it had all ended with that womans
word "Deadr'
You'd best have something. for you do
lock real bad" the woman persisted. But
tneTe, III you won [, l. pose you WOH l.
weu,' she continued, settling herself once
more in the chair and folding her ample
arms, I've said this yer Mr.. Spencer was
skunk, and a skunk he was to her! And
abtar Of him, fairs l could see, and yet
darent speak to him hardly, she was that
frit Well sir, l told you that they had
child"-she was getting loauacious now. in
her placid. droning manner, and rocking
herself with a steady swing that seemed to
stimulate hec conversation-'anywa there
wac a child with them though l never could
understand exactly whose twas, and he
was more of skunk to that child than it's
in the natur of man to DC to his own, and
the cf I'D was took sick with the dphthery.
That was when he bolted. Sick as sick the
child was. poor little mortal! And then
Mrs Spencer come outcome out pretty
stroIg too. / hadn't had much of notion
of her while the man was with her-l don't
mind ccnfessin'-with her dolly face and
fool ways and no more spirit than chip
nunk; but when she comes out as she did
come out, kinder CT alleged my IDEAS OF her.
Yes. sir! The way she nursed that child.
and sat up with her, day and night and
Sundays and workdays, and never took no
food. SOS she could buy medicines for the
child, and got sick herself. and didn't care,
but vent on nursin' Just the same-well, 1t
was pretty strong! And Liquid just as
well change your mind and have some
thing the woman ihterposed, earnestly,
you're lookin' that skeered.'
The man shook his head irritably.
Go on"
well, there amt much more to tell. She
took the diphthery then, as i said, and took
Ii bad. And there was no one to nurse her
'cept what l did, and that wasn't much
and she'd sUrter taken the grit out of her
self with all the nursn' and watchin' and
starvin' herself, and she couldn't seem ter
stand out against it. And so-she died.
That's all"
There was a long pause. The woman was
very quiet. There was a CLEAN in her eyes,
as she looked away across the sunny fields,
as though tears We're standing there. The
man still leaned against the stem of the
eucalyptus tree, twisting in his hands
fallen leaf that he had caught as is fiuttered
down.
And the chld?' he said at last. Did
she die?'
| No, sir!' the woman answered, still very
| quietly. she didn't die. j guess the nursin'
| saved her. When she come round" she con-
| tinued presently. there was no one left to
take care of her. If you understand so me
| and my husban, cJnsiderin' the lonesome
| ress OF the poor little oritter, kinder 'dopted
| her, not having any children of our own
! And she's settled down with us just wonder
full. It's real good to have her. Goldie"
| she cried, come here, dearie!'
The man turned quickly, shaking with a
strange spasmodic tremor.
| 'Goidie!' she called again softly
| ''Golder'
The little girl, who was playing in the
| hedge by the patch of sunfiowers, rose and
| turned toward them. For an instant she
|
| she stretched out her little arms and began
| to run across the road
| Daddy" she cried.
| The last tinge of GOLDEN light was fading
from the crests of the waves. The last
| faint lush of the sunset was fading from
| the western sky A tall, grizzed man and
| a gollen-haired girl, Tipening into woman
| hood. were standing on the hurricane deck
| of the ocean steamer. watching the flush as
| it paled and died away.
| He was a rich man from out west. every
| body knew. Had been mayor of Lumber
| vile, some said, and had made a great for
tune in live stock and grain A self-made
| man, who had risen from nothing, but de-
| served his success by straightforwardness
and hard work. And the girl was his
| daughter.
| The flush faded from the violet summer
| sky. The stars came out, one by one, shin
ing brightly in its clear depths. The man
and girl turned from where they stood on
the vessels stern, and began to walk slowly
back-in the direction where the sum- when
| II rose on the morrow morn, would rise on
| the rocky Eeadlands and rugged cliffs that
the man had last seen from the deck of the
| Amsterdam, they faded into the blueness
of the sky, close on fourteen years before.
| And as they turned, the clear voices rang
| out once more over the silent waters:
| "Airs Well!'
| "Alrs wellr'