The Kinsley graphic. [volume] (Kinsley, Kan.) 1890-1940, 1897-12-03

be in terms of praise. In his most self
reliant moods he had always been more
or less dependent upon a sympathetic
atmosphere; and under the circum-
stances which made him an inmate of
the Duncan home, this dependence be-
came morbid craving. And of pity and
sympathy Mrs. Duncan and Elsie gave
him unstintingly, out of the overflowing
kindness of good hearts.
For a few days after his removal from
town, Philip spent much time on the
mountain. Then there came a week of
rainy weather, and by the time the
skies cleared he found it singularly easy
to stay in the house. During the indoor
week he had stumbled upon an occupa-
ton which was both pleasant and dan
| gerous. This was the fact, though he
recognized only the pleasure and shut
| his eyes to the danger. Elsie's lessons
| had stopped at the end of her fathers
requirements, and she was ambitious
and eager to go on. Thorndykc found
this out, and turned pedagogue with the
| idea that he would repay kindness with
| kindness. The lessons, begun during
the week of rainy weather, were con-
| tinued without interruption, until one
| day, when Philip was more languid than
usual, Elsie's conscience awoke with
| start.
"Mr. Thorndyke, you're doing
wrong!" she said, looking up in self
| reproachful dismay. You haven't
| been on the mountain for two weeks!"
ITS much pleasanter here" Philip
replied.
''But that isn't it. Didn't your doctor
say you must stay out of doors ?-and
here I've been keeping you in the house
when every hour of sunshine is pre-
cious"
Don't blame yourself; I stay,in be-
cause 1 like it better. It's a WEAKNESS
to the flesh to go tramping about
alone"
| Elsie put her book away and took up
her sewing. I'm not going to encour-
age you to stay in, anyway" she said,
with a pretty affectation of infeXibil-
ity; land you ought to be ashamed to
call my mountain tiresome. used to
almost envy your long walks"
why do you call it your mountain"
because it's been my playmate ever
|
little girl l used to sit on that big rock
behind the garden and read dear old
Sir Walter till / imagined I could hear
the gallopirg of the dragons in the
lower valley, and the skirling of the
pipes up by the Pocket. And I've never
| quite lost the hope that some day I shall
meet bonnie chieftain with his tail
Of clansmen picking his way down
over the stones in the gulch."
"And you the daughter of a Low
lander. I'm shocked! Why, the very
first thing Nich Ian Vohr would do
would be to harry your fathers farm!
But if you know the mountain so well,
what's to prevent your showing me how
to become interested in it? Why can't
you take a tramp with me this after
noon?"
II don't think ought to take the
time; mother'll be wanting me to help
about the house"
She bent lower over the sewing, and
Philip saw faint tinge of color creep
up to hide itself under the waves of
bright hair on her forehead.
-''Then I won't go alone" he protest
ed, obstinately, and as Mrs. Duncan
came in he appealed to her. Mrs. Dun
can, can't You spare Elsie to go up on
the mountain with me this afternoon ~
"What for MOP" was the ready an
swer. Yell bath be the better for a
bit walk in the open. I'm thinking the
bulk is keeping We over close to the
chimney neuk, Mr.. Thorndyke:"
The appeal settled the question for
| 9. hut 1,o
puzzled Thorndyke. For n swift in
st:.nt possible explanation thrust it
self upon him, but he put the thought
away with a twinge of shame that he
had given it room. Doubtless Elsie
had her own reasons for her apparent
confusion, but they concerned him only
so far as to make it advisable that he
should do nothing to place himself in
n false light before her. The afternoon
ramble would give him chance to tell
her more about himself. and if the
vagrant suggestion which he had made
such haste to disown had any remote
liinship to fact, the bare mention of
Helen's name would set the matter
| future misunderstanding. Tt was
tIC just lOloIdpIc tIlllS "
do, and now that he thought of it. he
rcproached himself for not having
done it sooner. With different up
bringing, Philip might have seen the
unmalleable self-conceit in all this. and
having recognized it he would have
been honestly and frankly ashamed of
1T. Since he was not aware of it's cx-
| iStence, his resolve to make n conf
| dante of Elsie took the comforting
form of an act of delicate and chivalric
thoughtfulness. and he looked forward
with magnanimous Impotence to the
time when he could give it speech.
After dinner, however, when they
We're climbing the steep path leading to
the summit of Johns mountain, the
good resolution began to part with it's
urgency. Elsie's embarrassment had
disappeared, and in such irrelevant
talk as the scramble up the rocky trail
permitted there was no opening for
anything like condolences. With the de-
lay Philip began to doubt the necessity.
If he were not under sentence of death
it would be different, but in the light of
that tremendous fact, why should he
go about to observe the unwritten laws
of conrentionality? 1t could surely be
no disioyalty to Helen if he allowed him
| self tn take xx>haf nf Svronofbx- onI ~