The Dupuyer acantha. [volume] (Dupuyer, Mont.) 1894-1904, 1895-09-12

She could not understand that she vas
to wear slippers and stockings every
day, neither why she was to dress her
hair. AT first 1t grew irksOme to her
to remain dressed as he would have
her, and at times, coming home, he
would find her as he first saw her-the
one loose garment, her hair in disor-
der and barefooted. When he would
demonstrated she would laugh and
throw her arms about her neck and
kiss him, but after awhile she grew
accustomed to her new mode of dress.
The days passed into months, but
they did not bring to Rawlston the
ease of life he had hoped for when
he brought Chonita to his home; and
he wondered why the ideal was al
ways more beautiful than the real.
After all, it had only been an expert
ment, and it had failed; yet even had
it not, he realized that eventually he
would have returned to the old life
for the sake of her who awaited him
there. Then he thought of what
would come to Chonita, the child who
loved him so, after he was gone; for
leave her he must, n his soul cried
out within him against, not SO much
what he had done, as what he was
about to do.
One evening he sat before the fire in
his quarters, engaged in looking over
the weekly mail, while Chonita rested
at his feet, cuddled in a little heap
in the warmth, and with her head pill
lowed against his knee. The loose
leaves of a letter that he had been
reading slipped from his hand, scat
tering over the floor, and from them
arose a faint perfume that caused a
pang of jealousy to enter the girls
heart, for she knew it was from a
woman from whom Utmost every mail
brought him a Ietter-a woman whose
likeness rested on the mantel shelf be-
fore her, and who he had said was but
a friend, and yet who, her instinct told
her, stood between her and the full
ness of love that should be hers. Her
eyes filled with tears as h slowly
gathered the fallen leaves, but she
thought that, after all, she possessed
him, for he had come to her and was
with
"!Chonita, dear, I must leave you. 1
am going to my home"
She started and sprang to her feet.
Her heart beat wildly, and into her
great dark eyes came a strange, wild
look. you are going toto her!" she
CIltu, lOWluS llCl dIH flOltHtly W
ward the photograph. you are going
no?" and she tore the letter across
and threw it from her. mo! but you
shall not go!" she continued. "She has
no right to you. You are mine-mine!'
Majestically she stood gazing at him
for an instant; then the little figure
forgot it's queenly bearing and dropped
wearily-fell at his feet, sobbing out
tenderly: "Ah, say it is not so!-you
are all l have to love-all l have!'
He touched one little hand that rest
ed on his knee. "Poor little thing" he
said. poor little thing!''
She lay at his feet, her whole body
quivering.
He could not bear to see her suffer
so. He pitied her, and he thought:
Why not lie to her; why not let her
believe that he would return to her?
Yes, why not? 1t would make it easy
for her now, and in time she would
learn to forget. He lifted her gently
up and folded her in his arms. "Cho-
nita," he SAID, 81 will come back to
you, dear. / must go, but it is only
for a little while, a few months. You
can wait for me with our father at
the rancho-only for a few months,
sweetheart"
She drew herself from his arms and
sat on his knee, her dark eyes watch
ing the fire very softly. Suddenly she
turned and gazed at him for a long
while, then said slowly:
"You are not going to her, and you
will return to me|
He said:
q am not going to her, and 1 will
return to you."
She looked him in the eyes,, and
seemed to doubt. After awhile she
arose, and taking the photograph from
the shelf, h brought it to him, say,
ing, Tear 1t and throw it in the fire
noY"
He hesitated an instant, then arose
The hot blood came to his face; then
because he pitied her, he made the
sacrifice-and she believed.
A few days later he left the mine
and, sending his servants on with the
pack-trafn toward Guadalupe v Calvo
he took Chonita to her fathers home
With Juan he made his peace with
more pesos than the old man had ever
hoped to possess, but he told him, as
he had Chonita, that he would return.
The following morning, when all
was ready for his departure, and, al
the last moment, he went to where
Chonita sat weeping in the doorway
and took her hands and drew her III
to him. "PobrecitO," he said, 'pool
little thing, you are only a child
Would to God we had never met! Poor
little heart"
She turned her face to his shoulder
and buried it against his neck, sob
bling gently. He wound his arms
about her. and held her close to him
He let her cry for a while, and ther
he drew her face close to his. He
kissed it and put it back in it's rest
ing place, pressing his lips to her hair
After awhile he put her gently from
him, slowly passed to where his mule
awaited and slowly mounted. She raj
after him, stretched out her arms,
cry was on her lips.
Some one caught her by the arm
and said: mo use running after him
girl. He is gone for good. You will
a to find another lover"
Through her tears she saw at hel
side a tall, lank Texan, who had ar
rived early that morning from the
mine with a message for Rawlston
"Gone for good"' she echoed. mo
He is coming back to me"
Like hell he is. The new boss says
he is going north to marry another
girl. You won't see him again." ant
the Texan turned toward the corral tt
get his mule.
"Gone!" she cried. "Lied to me ant
gone to marry-no! God in heaven