The Banner-Democrat. [volume] (Lake Providence, East Carroll Parish, La.) 1892-current, 1897-12-11

Long after his children and wife
were sleeping Mr.. Janeway sat smok-
ing and thinking complacently of his
success. He, Madison Janeway, had
began with nothing, and at fifty he had
won the things he had longed for at
twenty. The opening and closing of
the door attracted his. attention. He
looked up.
A woman walked across the room
plain woman, with an honest, ugly
face, and short, thick figure.
'eWho are your" Mr.. Janeway
asked, frowning at her intrusion.
Don't you know me, Maddy?" she
returned. .
He was startled when she called him
Maddy-it was more than twenty
years since he had been called that.
"Are-you-are--you-buty ou can't
be Sarah," he stammered. "She has
been dead these many years.
ST am Sarah" she answered. "You
have changed, Maddy."
"Yes-yes. eve are apt to-" he
replied uneasily. 'But you look just
the same" He said this to see if she
would account for her presence.
''The living can only see the dead
as they were in life," she returned.
"You sold the farm, didn't your"
Mr.. Janeway felt as if reproach
lay in the observation. eyes, I sold
the farm" he said. 'T needed the
money to put into other investments. "
81 worked hard on that place." she
said, crossing her hands--very rough,
worn hands. ST worked hard there
those years. I tried to save all I could,
Maddy."
"You were good wife, Sarah," he
replied, "and both of us had our bur-
dens, I guess.
Sand it was my money that bought
the farm. You had nothing when you
came counting me, did you Maddy?
And you said that my being thirty
years old and you being just of age
made no difference"
"Yes, suppose said that, and I'm
sure always tried to be good to You"
he said in answer to that unspoken
that seemed to lie behind her
words. 81 tried to treat
you WE'LL"
"The money that came to me just
before died from Uncle John must
have been help. I left it and the
farm to you, Maddy." Her dull eyes
seemed to force him him to acknowl-
edge his debt.
"Yes-yes, Sarah. I know that I
owe much to you. Without your help
and money I should have had a much
harder time getting on my feet. Yet
I think I should have succeed in any
case" Mr.. Janeway could not for
bear offering this tribute to his self
However. I gratefully ac-
your aid, Sarah
''You have another wife, now, Mad
dy, and children" she said, ''but I
was first. I believed in you, and I
worked for you, oh, SO willingly. 1
knew that you were different from me.
1 knew that you had hopes that stupid
Sarah could never understand I
knew that was your companion In
your work, but not in your hopes. 1
knew that we were growing further
apart every year that we lived to-
gether. I knew that while / was get
ting to be worked out and middle-aged
you were only coming in your prime.
[ knew that it was best that died
when I did-before I came to be a
drag on you. Yet, Maddy, before her
and your children I think you ought
not to shame me, for I was your faith
ful wife, the wife of your youth, and
gave you all I had to give--my
my love, my toll"
Before Mr.. FJaneway could answer
she was gone, and he sat alone.
The next day. however, he took the
old photograph down town and ordered
for it gorgeous frame. When it was
returned he hung it in his library,
where it looked strangely alien between
q st. Cecilia and the Arabian Falconer,
bought at the instigation of the archi-
tect.
Florrie, with a child's quickness, no.
ticed the fine gilt frame that surround
ed the ugly, good face. "What have
you done to the Lady," she asked.
AREN'T you going to pack her away
like mamma said?"
''No; the picture is to stay here.
Do you remember who I said it WASP"
eyes; it was your first wife"
Mr.. Janeway took her ON his knee.
"Florrie, he began soberly, when I
was little boy I was very poor, as
poor as the Galts"-a family celebrated
in the town for ill luck and poverty.
81 went to school when I could, but
that was mighty little for had to work
most of the time. Sometimes I'd get
get most discouraged, but 1 had to
work just the same. One year I worked
for q man named Deering. He had a
daughter, and when she found how
much 1 wanted to go to school, she lent
me some money-money she had saved
by pinching and scraping. After awhile
her father died and she married me. I
had nothing and she owned good
farm, but she married me. In six
years she died and left everything to
me. She gave me my start She was
a good woman and believed in me when
else did. The other night papa
dreamed that he saw her and talked to
her, aud it made him feel ashamed that
he had seemed to forget her"