Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1896-09-16

courage.
eff she comes at all, it will be only
because you, as his mother, asked it.
She will do it out of sympathy with
you, if she does it at all. 1t will be on
the impulse of the moment. She won't
stop to consider the improperly of the
thing. I couldn't create an impulse.
We have got to lead trumps and play
trumps all the time If she won't come
for you, she won't come at all. %
He stopped and looked at her anxious
ly.
ooh, I can't, Bob. 1t is such an aw-
full thing to do"
The catch on the door of the sick
mans room accidentally gave way, and
the door swung slightly ajar. The nurse
inside quickly closed it, but not before
a plaintive cry Of MARY" had reached
the two people in the hall.
"Well?" he said sententiously.
''I'll 20, Bob. It will not be of the
slightest use, but drowning people al
ways clutch at straws."
"That's right" he exclaimed. sect
on your best clothes. It's little early
for morning call, but the servants of
people of the standing of the Summer
hayes are more easily impressed by good
clothes than they are by anything else
I'll have cab at the door for you when
you are ready"
Miss Mary Summerhayes sat in the
armchair by the window Of the hall
and wondered why she had allowed her
self to openly rebel against the social
conventionalities so carefully drilled
into her. She had endeavored to con-
vince herself that she had come simply
for the mothers sake, but somehow
the conviction did not seem perfectly
honest An attempt to blame it on her
impulsiveness resulted in an even great
er failure She grew half angry with
herself, and once she arose from her
chair with the intention of seeking
safety in flight. But she sank back into
the chair, for the reason that urged her
to flight also chained her to the spot.
Then she determined to face it bravely
and found great sweetness and content
growing upon her. But even as it grew
fear replaced it, and all life seemed to
go out Of her body, for she remembered
that his mother had said that he was
dying.
When Mrs. Thomas came out Of the
sickroom, she found the girl weeping
She sat down on the arm Of the chair
| I,o,, %~xr, or1 how ind to1
her.
II am afraid you are somewhat up
set," she said. IT am almost sorry
asked you to come. 1t is SO good Of you. +"
The girl dried away the tears from
her eyes,
81 am little hysterical, I think"
she said. "But am glad am here if
I can do anything to help you. Do you
want me to 60 in now?"
''Do you feel strong enough?"
ooh, yes; am all right now. It was
only a momentary weakness. Is he still
delirious?"
| "Just the same"
"There is no one else there?"
"No. I sent the nurse away for lit
tie sleep"
"You will come in with me" she
said as she opened the door.
| The room was darkened, and the
young girl stood in the doorway for an
instant, accustoming her eyes to the
dim light
"Mary, Maryp' called the sick man
as she stood there, and the mother,
with her hand on the young girls
shoulder, felt shudder run through her
body. She led her to the bed, beside
which chair stood. Miss Summerhayes
sat down and gazed at the pale face ~
ing on the pillow. She placed one hand
on the hot, fevered forehead and with
the other took one Of his.
"Mary has come" she said in a low
voice, stroking his forehead and brush
ing back his hair.
After few minutes the patient gave
little gasp Of relief. She sat there for
ten minutes longer, and only once did
he again cry out "Maryp and then the
cry had changed from one Of entreaty
| to content In few minutes his breath
ing showed that he was asleep, and the
girl, bending over him, kissed hing
| lightly on the forehead, disengaged her
hand from his and arose from her chair.
''Take me away" she entreated as
she fell into his mothers arms.
A week later Mary Summerhayes told
her mother of her early visit to the
house in the square. There were tears
in her eyes.
"It does not matter now, mother He
is dead. Dead, and he never knew how
much I loved him. He was conscious
just before he died, and he whispered to
his mother, tell her, mother, if you
see her, that l loved her. He died soon
afterward. saw his death in the news
papers-you remember the evening the
Fergusons were here and I had that Sc
we're headache. 1t was heartache, and
I did not come down. The next day !
went to see his mother, and she told me
how he died, and we cried together over
it,"
"But, Mary, you surely did not love
the poor fellow? Why, you had scarcely
seen him beforel"
II feel that I snail never be able to
love any one else in the same way,
mother.
"But Mr.. Roanoke, Mary. You will
never have another chance to marry so
advantageously.
IT like Mr.. Roanoke very well-as a
friend. respect him too much to mar
ry him. Then, you know, he has ter
rible prejudice against widows" she
continued with a light touch Of her
usual lively manner, and, in lapsing