The Beaver herald. [volume] (Beaver, O.T. [Okla.]) 1895-1923, 1896-12-31
II need arose. II was my duty, strive
as / might TO disguise the fact.

II need arose. II was my duty, strive
| as / might TO disguise the fact.
Dorothy and did not continue quite
the old friendship. There was subtle
difference In our relations. We were
| together often, though she seldom drove
with me and there were no more boat
ing excursions, but there was some
thing of our former comradeship lack
| ing. She was graver. quieter, more abb
stracted. The mourning she wore was
no meaningless badge of sorrow. She
was grieving over her aunt's loss, and, /
feared, causelessly reproaching herself
| for the accident. 1t was not time for
me to speak; il was better TO wait until
her thoughts should be less with the
dead and more with the living. / had
determined, when my opportunity
came, to lay my doubts and difficulties
fairly before her, and TO ask her aid in
seeking a way out of them.
But many days wore away before the
opportunity was mine. ] had asked her
to accompany me to Bassettville, and we
were riding homeward from that town.
with the horse fallen into his LATEST
iog-trot For some little time neither of
us had spoken. She was preoccupied,
thought, but it did not occur to me to
suspect that any unusual cause existed
for her abstraction. AS for myself
we'll, inasmuch as she was by my side,
| was fairly content.
MAY l ask your advice?" she said, at
last, breaking the silence.
"Surely, in anything" l answered.
at seems to be best, but | am not
quite satisfied with my own Judgment"
This she said as if more in explanation
TO herself than to her hearer. Il am go
ing away"
"Why?" | demanded. "Why, and
when, and whither?"
"lt must be soon; I've realized it ever
since my aunts DEATH" she said, with a
brave effort at composure. 81 am poor
i think you know that. l must find a
way TO support myself. I have thought
that perhaps l could be most useful as
nurse, and that you could tell me
where the best training-schools were.
The people here have been very, very
kind, but | must leave them.
IF you heed my advice you will not
go away" said /. "And as to becoming
nurse, don't dream of such a thing.
Have you any idea of the long hours
of duty, the responsibility, the strain
on mind and body?"
"Yes, | think [ understand. But
what else is there for me to do? Be
lieye me, this is no hasty decision"
But it is one you will never cease to
regret"
Regret? 1 hardly think that-un-
less should find myself incapable"
Nonsense! Pardon me for speak
ing so plainly, but that isn't the point
at issue. The question you have to de-
eide is this: Do yon wish to devote your
best years to labors arduous, exacting,
often rewarded poorly in money and
even less in gratitude, only to find your
self at the end of them broken in health
and spirit? l tell you plainly you were
not sent into this world to lead such an
existence"
"Please don't discourage me-" she
said, almost entreatingly. "You don't
understand. want to do some good
in my life, and the way l have chosen
seems to me the best. cannot teach,
l am not a musician, should starve as
n seamstress. But as a nurse"
You're the best girl in the world,
and the best place for you is right here"
My vehemence seemed to startle her,
and she shrank little from me.
Dorothy, you must not CO." blum
dered on. you speak of making your