Santa Fe new Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1898-1951, 1898-08-26

Auo Hlgnu was uark. overhead Gn0 rev
sad stars were shining dimly, buffeted by
the clouds, and the water underneath hur-
ried between the arches with a strange
rush past as If fearing a sudden despairing
burden from above. On the bridge were
two shadows, two only in the bitter wind.
"My dear Charlotte. why did you do itp'
II had to. One must be civil"
"But why tonight? I cannot eat or
drink while this goes on, and I am famish-
ing"
Tit hostess bent over across the flowers
and murmured sagely, "Dear, when /
asked him, ! was morally sure that he had
a vestry meeting" and then she drew
back a little remorsefully.
Mrs. Chatterton had invited one too
many, and this one was doing all the talk
ing. The hungry blank before dinner had
been filled with his sonorous voice, and
the sam voice, in its mass meeting tone,
was laundering down the table, compel
ling the frivolous to attend. The very serv-
ants appeared to feel that they hadno bust
ness to offer anything to eat.
The Rev. johnson was an earnest man,
and these men have no conjunction. He
had few other opportunities of touching
such worldly people, and his thin, kind,
clever face was eager. He had been hold
ing forth upon the awful desolation be-
yond these doors.
"Not SO very far" he was saying-and
his soup was ~cold-"others, men and wom-
en-, are seeking shelter, wandering in the
night. They watch the glimmer of lamps,
houses lit like yours, and their despair be
comes more bitter to endure when they
think of the happiness beyond" c'Which
you are properly diminishing" said Colo.
mel Somebody to himself). Its not fair,
it's not right. 1t is your task to change
1t. Not with a guinea here and there, but
with earnest, honest help. Go and look
and you will believe 1t. Think of 1t, here
hundreds of happy homes, "a woman I'M
der her breath said ~"happy!"), "thers
hundreds shut out-shut out, do you un-
derstand9-from all but the pain of life.
That very bridge yonder! Mrs. Chatter
ton, you know 1t, but only in the sun
shine, when the water ripples gladly
enough. Your carriage rattles over it
hastily in the dark. These others know II
in the night. They creep there, hungry
and weary, to hide themselves In the shad-
ows, dark on the bridge, and darker upon
the water, with the darkest of all shadows
In their hearts. Do you ever think of that,
Mrs. ChattertonS"
The hostess put both hands up to her
fair, wild hair-a habit Of hers when trou-
bled. The look of airy satisfaction had
left her face.
"Poor things!" said she. II don't like
going to stare at them when they are re-
claimed like convicts. / wish ] could go
there some dreadful night and carry them
all off and mako them happy"
"a pity it should only be- a wish" said
the Rev. johnson, glancing dryly across
the pretty wilderness of silver and ferns
and glasses. He did not believe in Mrs.
Chatterton. She was like q rose leaf
whirled over the grass by the summer
| winds and quite as careless. Then he bent
quietly to his plate, but after II mouth
full he began again to impress these peo-
| pie, most of whom did not often hear his
words elsewhere.
Mrs. Chatterton was clasping and un-
olasping her fingers nervously, as If she
were to blame for all. Mr.. Peterson, at
the other end Of the table, was only think
Ing that this dinner was a flasco. He was
the father Of a little girl who had died
yes, but he was not frivolous. He was
also the father of many sons, and some
men have few ideas, letting the sad ones
slip. These do not need distraotions-tri-
faes. The Rev. johnson principally adj
| dressed himself to Mr.. Peterson.
Mr.. Butteraeld was getting all the at.
| tention of the servants. He was almost
the only person who did not keep things
waiting at his elbow, but then he was a
rich man and a hard man, rumor said, and
perhaps be was not lightly moved. Miss
Lavender, on his left, was an authoress.
She was handsome and tall and brilliant,
and her mouth took on a sarcastic twist
whenever she had to listen to other peo-
pies views. 1t seemed this time as il her
| patience failed her. She turned to Mr..
Butterfeld all at once and In a rather high
voice inquired what he thought Of a GER
tain play. The Rev. johnson looked earn
estly at them both and judged them.
1t was dark on the bridge, and the wind
was bitter. Mr.. Butterf1eld had taken .
strange way home.
He, the hard man Of the world, could
hardly account for the way in which he
had been stirred by facts he had already
heard more than once. He had meant to
walk to his own house across tho square,
but bis feet had almost pnconsciously led
him hither, "to have a look" he as
sured himself pneasily, shivering In the
GOLD. On either side down the water wal
. wavering line of lights; In the distanos
the ruinbling Of q carriage; on the bridge
nothing.
ut Is 4 strange thing the Rev. John.
son had said in p~arenthesis, chow these
waits vary In their hauntsi Some nights
the bridge Ii lined with despairing men,
and on others II Is deserted"
Mr.. Butterfleld shivered again and
vhistled.
HThers IL me- he muttered grimly.
His mind wandered to bis neighbor Of
that spoiled dinner party, the clever Miss
Lavender. He admired her, had always
admired her, with all her Independence
and startling ways-and yet-something
In her that night had Jared. A woman
who could hear unmoved the pitiful storinS
that had boon urged upon them, who could
turn impatiently and interrupt with ,
vain talk Of plays, was hardly the woman
! man would want-for his wife.
IL troubled him more than no would