Hot Springs weekly star. (Hot Springs, S.D.) 1892-1917, 1898-07-08
sYes, where the olives bloom.n

WIEN gave way uCCerly TO 0OmeSlCk-
ness.
After that I saw her often. 1 love to
remember that my presence frightened
her life, and that she cared for me.
The days were less cruel after that
beautiful. soul shone into my loneli-
ness. 1t was not easy to help her, poor
half starved, shabby little creature;
she declined all invitations to take tea
or lunch with me. But she let me un-
derstand what l was to her.
"Miss Lake say you curis pusson ter
make so much NV dat ole Margaret
Deane."
Susan! If you repeat another word
of gossip, or speak again disrespect-
fully of Miss Deane, I'll dismiss you"
"Dey say she amt 'spectable."
Gentle, refined little woman! indie
pendent and brave! Withinfnite faith
touching the stars. White souled and
pure. How unkind to her was the
rusty black, the ugly setting, because
to mankind is given only earth seeing
eyes. How it hedged her about and
kept the fortune favored danes from
knowing her. Had some good fairy
adorned her suddenly, with rich RAIN
ant; bestowed on her chariots and
horses and beautiful palaces, then
would she have had a passport on which
would shine. in g%littering letters. IRE
spectacle"
One moonlight evening, in midsum-
mer, she had glided acros to my room
to make n of her rare visits.
Here is a little gift" she whispered.
She looked younger than usual; the
lines we're softened and her eyes we're
lustrous.
took the package and saw that it
was a small copy of Longfellow'spoems.
On the back, in golden letters, one
word, "Daisy."
"It was my name once" looked at
her without speaking. "We used to
sing a song called Daisy Deane.' Our
voices blended very WE'LL" The tive"
and tour" belonged to some day of
which l had no part.
will you like it?" she said suddenly.
"There is no one else"
Like it? yes, and 1 shall always
cherish it," Isaid bending down to give
her the first and last caress
With a mute response, she went
swiftly out and her form, in the white
moonlit street, was like some dim mem
DRY.
That very night l was stricken with
fever. After ten days of delirium and
pain, 1 sat propped up among pillows,
glad to be alive even in Bourbonsville.
My last remembrance was of Margaret
Deane's gift and the dish of jelly 1 had
sent by Susan, a few moments after.
In my fever visions, the dainty, gold
lettered book, English daises, and
mountains of quivering jelly, seemed
to make my world. They came contin-
ually, IS if the heat and disease had
been Prospero's wand.
AS 1 indolently sat looking out, with
the lack of responsibility peculiar to
convalesence, 1 save strange sight.
Miss Deane's poor household goods
stood on the sidewalk in front Of the
door, in a most pitiful condition.
"Susanl Look! What is that for ?"
"Lawd! De doctor didn't low you
ter hear bout dat"
"Hear what?"
"Old Margaret Deane done dead.
Died de berry night you took yo' spell.
Dey's selling ont her truck. You wuz
will, outen yo' head when she went.
De ladies put 'er away fine. De folks
here is mighty good ter people arter
dey die"
what was the matter :"
"Nobody knowed. She went in de
night"
"Alone?" 1 whispered anxiously, as
my feeble mind pictured the utter sad
ness of such a going.
.Yes'm. Nobody knowed she wuz
gwinter die. She had plenty company,
do, when de news spread"
Hush Susan. Look, some men are
bringing a box here. Open the door,"
"Madam," said the man, holding
something towards me, tive found this
among Miss Deane's things, addressed
to you"
1t was a rosewood cabinet, inlaid
with pearl. A beautiful relic of that
past of which ourlips had never spoken.
She had remembered me with, what
was no doubt, her only valuable That
night l opened it and learned irsctly
that / posse ssed, not only the cabinet,
but her dear and sacred secrets.
Within the cabinet lay u package of
letters, with two ambrotypes; one, a
boyish, handsome face, with dark lu-
minous eyes and a mouth that smiled
even in repose; his grey Confederate
uniform told his fate. The other, q