The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1897-05-16

on in silence, the setting sun touchinS with
| softening tight her wan face ana lircu eyes.
Ine sun was low in the western sKs ~neli
the two women reached the Smal housS,
once white, but now a dirty gray VIII
great yellow streaks following the hhes OF
the overlapping clapboards. Inc pa
waters of the swiftly-fiowing river We're
hecked with red and gold under the ieNel
rays of the sun, the rounded hills on the
other side of the stream were softly oIue,
toward the east a white fog was rising. "A
flock of white geese high in the gray-blue
SKY was lying swiftly southwark, spFeeo
out in a great struggling V.
Inc mournful cry of their leader feacnSu
the two women family, the flight OF sns
wild geese was an untaillng sign OF a.
preaching winter, and they watched Ine
black lines of the flying fowls until they van
1shed IN the southern sky, their Welro G[y
growing fainter and sadder and nnally .uy-
ing away, leaving the swish or the river
against its MUDDY bank the only SCUM
which troubled the quiet OF the autumn
twilight. Two women With huShed voices
and funeral faces waited inside the dingy
front room of the house.
1T was a right smart gathering, Sald
one Of them.
4 never seen a finer said the other,
And the minister was mighty pow 1ul,
Ventured the third in mournIul tone.
They looked at the dead mans daughter
eXpectantly. Common decency surely re-
CURED some expression OF gratlfled ap-
prevail of the congregation and the ser
mon. But she was folding her shawl care
fully, laying it upon the bed, alongside heT
rusty bonnet. She seemed not to have
heard their voices. Then she sat stit1y by
the window, looking out at the mud-clogged
4 hope you feel reconciled, Miss Liz
beth one of the women began.
Il reckon / am. He's been awful hard
to take care OF, she replied, with her hard
honesty. She turned her eyes away from
the window and looked YEARLY at her
ITS supper time. There amt any use of
your Stayin' with me-"
The three women arose angrily at their
, Il lowed you'd want some one to stay
with you the nrst night, said one OF them
with a lugubriouS sniff.
i've got all the nights of my life to stay
alone in. l bout as we'll begin now"
She watched ten them as ol6 they W tTaiT b away
together nodding wisely. They were talk
ing about her, Of course. She knew wei
enough what they said. She knew how
hard and strange and unfeeiing they were
calling her. And as she sat aIone by the
window she wondered if She was all these.
The bed in its dark corner brought 10 ner
mind the picture OF the man who had flrst
quit it for his narrow bed upon the hillside.
She fancied that she saw his hard, thin.
yellow face upon the pillow now; that she
heard his QueIulouS voice demanding her
attention, upbraiding her for some tancled
her lack OF religion" How hard he had
been. AS the woman's thoughts Travelled
back along the years she could not recall
one kind word, one touch of thankfulness
for her unremltting care, for her absolute
immolation of life; hope, love upon the
long time it seemed.
she passed into the back room and
pressed close to the little square looking
glass which hung against the wall. The
daylight was well-nigh gone, but she could
yet discern the background OF gray LWl-
light. How old she looked. How SalloW
she had grown. There were great lines
about her mouth and deep burrows pc
tween her eyes. And her halTIhoW dlngy
it was with it's streaks of yelloWish gray:
Twenty years ago she had been proud OF
her hair. 1t had been bright and, soft. she
was twenty years old then. and there were
roses in her cheeks, and her eyes, so pale
and tired row, had been blue ana tresn
then. She wondered if she had Wept thelr
color and freshness away. Perlaps that
was the reason no tears were left Tor her
father. She had shed them all long ago
for the man whom she had loVed anu
She did not return to the front room
where the great bed doomed SO Welrdly IN
the gloom, but sat by one window IN the
little back room. half kitchen, half dining
room, looking out upon the river growing
blacker and colder in the fallng nignI as
it flowed from out of the west, Where q
rapidly diminishing dull. red streak marked
the track of the vanished sun.
Twenty years since her mother died, ana
her sister. selfish in her new life as a wife,
had said that Lisbeth's duty lay III their
fathers house. He might marry again OF
die in a few years. Surely 1t was not SO
hard for a young girl to wait. SO she h3d
waited. her lover fretting as lovers VIII,
Intil one day she had awakened to the fact
thet y mans patience is not like a wom-
ans. There had been one awful night
which she remembered after all these years
with q SnuUQcT. n IlSHl NiSLt -
first and only time in her hard life, she had
turned hotly upon the stern old man ana
J told him of her wrecked girlhood, praying
wildly for some help, for some sympathy.
She caught her breath sharply now as
she recalled her fathers bitter words. Ihat
same night her lover left. f1fteen years
had come and gone since then. Inc greaI
world had taken him, and whether he hVed
or had been claimed again by mother earIn,
the woman who sat and dreamed or the
past alone in the dark knew naught or MIN.
She had practiced a Woman'S falthtulness;
she had reaped a woman's hard re
ward. Afterward her sister died and left 70
her care 9 blue-eyed babe. How she mad
noured out upon that baby boy the pent-
I'D mother love within her. But the gods
in their wisdom had taken him. too. In TINS
still night as she lived over again the years
which were gone, she seemed to feel the
clasp of those baby arms about her neck
and hear the grooming of that soft BABY
voice.
And then came the long years of her
| fathers illness. when she knew no moment
of rest or peace. 1t had been a long strug-
gle between a lovelesS woman on one side
and gaunt starvation upon the other, with
out one word of gratitude to strengthen her.
And they called her hard because she could
rot weep. She looked at her hands, hold
ing them up close to her face. How mis-
shapen and ugly from toll they were.
1t was quite dark now and the river
M strangely under the vino winch
was creeping down from the north. Her
hands fell back into her lap and two great
tears coursed slowly down her worn face
not for the man who lay under the stars in
the little cemetery on the hill, but for her
own vanished youth and love and hope;