Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1895-11-23
amszed to hear from the keen.tongued
lawyer. Then the little ones ayah
came to carry her to bed.


came to carry her to bed.
Miss Barbara was walking slowly
homeward through the dusk. Faded
leaves dropped softly about her and
the mellow air was smoky with bon.
fires. These Indian summer days
heralded the approach of Thanksgiv-
ing, but the remembrance gave her no
pleasure. For some reason she at
tributed it to Sylvia's recent romance
her thoughts persistently reverted
to a long-gone Thanksgiving Day that
had begun for her with happiness and
ended with sorrow. On that Thanks
giving had arisen the never. settled
quarrel that had parted her and her
young lover. He had gone immedi-
ately abroad and hastily married there.
Not until then did Miss Barbara dis
miss the man he had accounted his
rival. Their world had held her
blameworthy in the affair perhaps
she had held herself SO. Certainly life
had looked darker to her in those days
than 1t looked now. She went slowly
up the steps of her pleasant home.
Far within girlish voice sang happily
and the rooms were CHEEKY with mel
low lamp-light that revealed Miss Bar
bara q fitting mistress for the lovely
old house. Suddenly Sylvia's head
cleaned in distant doorway.
"There's letter for you, auntie,"
she called softly; "such queer look
ing thing-I laid it on the piano"
1t was foreign-looking letter, and
bore traces OF long journey. Miss
Barbara examined the postmarks Curl
ously. When she carried the letter to
her room a moment later her face
looked pale. Behind her locked door
the next moment she sat down to read
it. With deliberate care she opened
the envelope. 1t contained many thin
sheets written over in q clear, manly
hand. She sought methodically for
the signature, and read the name that
had once been dear to her. A strange,
familiar look it wore. Much was
written between the lines of the story
he told briefly. He had left his native
land hot with passion and the smart
of their broken engagement. Shortly
after his arrival in India report of
her marriage had reached him, and.
not doubling the truth of it, he paid
court to and hastily married the
pretty but shallow daughter of an
English Colonel stationed there. Dur.
ing the years that followed he had
striven to bear the consequences of
his own mistake, and he had borne
them until the burden fell from his
shoulders at a grave. He spoke of
his child in words that brought tears
to the readers eyes and then he
turned passiohately to the old days,
and questioned her of the future.
The letter fell from her fingers. She
felt as ono must feel with the earth
rocking under foot. Was the old love
dead in her heart - dead like the
mother of his child? She thought of
that grave under the Indian palms. and
feeling rose slow and strong out of
her heart. No-his part in her life
had ended years before. She did not
hold herself blameless, but she had
suffered once she had no wish to suf-
fer again. She could not change the
pleasant, settled boundaries of her
life. Toward him and toward that lit
tie child OF his her ho,!ghts would
ever 60 kindly-but his part in her
life was over. She sent her answer
before she slept; and life went on as
if it had not paused. On the evening
before Thanksgiving Sylvia went ear.
ly to choir practice, and Miss Barbara
sat down to read the city paper. which
had just arrived. A glowing fire
snapped in the CRATE, half dozen car.
nations scented the air, and Ophelia.
the cat purred lazily at intervals.
Outside round full moon shone high
in the sky, and the frosty ground
sparkled in its radiance.
"Fire fire fire |" shouted a voice in
the street. Miss Barbara rushed to the
window; before she reached it the de-
moniac Shrek of the fire whistle, pro-
longed aud awful, smote upon her
ears. Then came the sound of rum
ming feet. Snatching up shawl, she
hastily locked the door and joined in
wild race toward the swelling muir
murs that rose tumultuously in the
air. She was soon in the midst of the
excitement, but paused in the out
skirts of the crowd. 1t was barn that
was burning, and it stood out against
the smoke blackened sky a glowing
mass OF triumphant fire. There was
no longer hope of saving it, though
the hose still played =rc: j. The
rescued horses stamped and neighed,
the fremen shouted hosrse orders,
dogs barked and baby cried. Sud-
denly there arose cry: "Look cut!
Look out!
One of the frightened animals had
sprung loose and charged wildly for
ward. Miss Barbara felt herself
snatched up and. borne persistently
through the shrieking crowd into u
deserted street white with moonlight.
Her rescuer made no motion to release
her, and, startled and annoyed, she
turned her gaze full upon him; the
next instant her breath stopped, her
face turned white. She was gazing in
to the face of the man she once loved
the man whose letter she had lately
answered. A flock of girls ran laugh
ing and calling into the street. "Let
me go-there are people about-you
must let me co." she whispered sharp
ly. His arms dropped from her waist,
but he walked close to her side. She
moved away towards the further edge
of the walk.
Barbara"
A loose board shot suddenly down
under his feet-the other end went up,
Miss Barbara went down. She tried
to rise, but fell back helplessly. Ford
ham dropped on his knees beside her,
speaking passionately.
II am not hurt" she said, her lips
white and set, ''it is only my foot
am afraid must have q carriage"
Many weeks elapsed before Miss Bar.
bara was able to walk again. During
those weeks Fordham received her let