The record-union., 1897-06-13

Here 'tis,''4 he said at last. Il never
looked at it but once, so I'd kind o
forgotten where twas"
Pointing to the bottom of the page
he handed her the book, and then
leaned back in his chair with breath
of relief.
The woman took it with puzzled air
but as her eyes caught the page, she
looked pleased.
.'Ah. you have brought me my story!
And you came long distance to tell
me that you liked it. How kind
she stopped suddenly. "Or, rather,
she added, noticing his expression, to
tell me that you did not like it t?''
The situation was perfect. Here was
material right at hand for her next
story and she smiled slightly as she
looked at him. One could work it up
we'll; she felt sure of that; a good deal
of humor with, perhaps, a little pa
thos. And the title; what should that
be? She still kept her eyes fixed un-
consciously upon him. as her imagina-
ton worked fancies in her brain. Yes,
she was glad he came in just that way,
perhaps
Way off beyont," he pointed out of
the west window, and the motion, with
the sound of his voice, recalled her to
herself, lis the village, an the settle
ment' is two miles off. They call it two,
but l low it's somethin more. An
that's where 1 live"
'YeS?" She had gone over to the desk
again, and, sitting sideways in her
chair, faced him while, at the same
time, one hand held a pencil with which
she wrote down a word occasionally
Her visitor had changed his seat, and
taken large chair near the window
Leaning idly back with an absent look
in his eyes which seemed to see far
beyond the high walls and chimneys.
he continued, AN that's where the bay
is, all smilin' and peaceful such a day
as this, an the boats a-lyin' TO, with
their sails f1appin' just a mite back an
forth in the breeze. An off, way off. is
the ocean stretchin' itself clear out to
the sky" He gave a sigh which might
have betokened some slight homesick-
ness. An that's where we live. Mar
thy an me-"
Well?' said his listener at last, after
a long pause. And the story? You
read it together?"
Yes" he answered, still looking out
OF the window, and smiling as though
trying to recall some pleasant scene
es,' he repeated, IAN there was
Steve Hawkins, besides, an little Car
line and her brother Just we five
Inc readln, and there was a touch of
prlde IN his voice, 'aPers takin' place in
settln room, which Marthy has kind
nXed up accordin' to her WAYS O.
thlnkln. But the story" he continued
now looking directly at her. WANT
never finished, seein' as 'twa'n't wrote
down correct.
He uttered the last sentence ouite
calmly, with the confidence of ona VII
states fact that can admit of no con-
tradiction.
Why" he went on, speaking almost
pltylngly, and yet with a. touch of
sternness in his voice, "she couldn't do
any harm. APers so gentle an sweet
her peln a woman grown couldn't ha'
made any difference, for the same light
was shlnin' out O her pretty eyes. an
the same smile was on her Iips. An
SO, he added, rising and picking up his
nat, Which lay on the floor by his side
seem as [ was up in the city. I lowed
I'd stop i'm
Ihe pencil had dropped from the wo-
mans hand several minutes before he
ceased speaking, and she was now tear
ing INTO bits the paper on which she
mad been writing. Placing and replac-
ing them abSently in little piles on the
desk before her, she said, without turn
ing around:
And so, although you never read he
yond that number, you did not believe
it of her?"
Seem as there want any truth in
it. No"
She laughed little bitterly. "And
yet you remember what the story says.
That they all blamed her"
An she cried herself to sleep that
night" he finished: "she that bein' a.
woman grown had commenced to love.
an bein' loved, she-''
Yes, L know, 1 remember" she in
terrupted hastily, looking around. sit
Was-it was very sad, wasn't it?'' she
continued in a lighter tone. But T for
got You never read the last number.
There it was explained. But you see
by that time it was too late for-for
they all had believed it of her. Just
those she cared for most" There was
a faint, pathetic note in her voice as
she emphasized the word all. "And so
as the story tells us, she became some-
what resentful and hard" She had
placed the bits of paper in one pile, and
now seemed absorbed in the act of sep
aratlng them slowly, piece by piece.
But then" she continued, speaking
half to herself, there was nothing
very unusual in it after all, was thereo
1t was just what you would call an in
cident; something that can be borne.
That is the way 1 explain it to myself.
Sometimes I wonder that the story took
at all: that any editor was willing to
touch it,
The old man still stood a little behind
her chair. passing his hat nervouslv
from hand TO hand. There was a pl1z-
zled expression on his face 'I lowed :"
he said, hesitating, that there might
ha' been one, seein'-'
But the story says not. 1t explains
good deal about it in the number that
you never read; and much about other
things, too. 1t tells how hard her life
has become, and it is all-oh. it is very
sad She caught her breath a little.
and then bending lower over her desk.
went on: ut tells how tired she gets
some days, for she writes and writes
day after day. And how discouraged
she becomes sometimes when a story is
returned, although she cannot allow
her thoughts to dwell upon it, for her
mind must remain fresh for thinking
up another plot. Something that will
be accepted, and bring her in the mon
ey she needs" She stopped and. un-
locking the lowest drawer to her desk
took out roll of bills which she laid
down before her Pointing to than che