The White Pine news. [volume] (Treasure City, Nev.) 1868-1906, 1898-04-02

sionally, to remember how really good
she was, or tried to be, and really. am
fond OF her memory, too. Would you
believe" turning upon him lmpulsye-
". with a smile and glance SO precisely
like those of the girl under discussion
that he started Involuntary. that I,
practicing physician and surgeon Che
fancied that she laid an unnecessary IL
slight emphasis upon the last four
words, within two milestones of my
thirtieth birthday, would be foolish
enough to do as ] did yesterday?
came accidentally upon the satin slip
pers l wore at-at that ball, you know,
| just before-well, long time ago
"Just seven years." he interrupted,
softly; but she did not recognize the in
terruptlon, and only went on with
heightened color:
"And put them on to see how my feet
would look in them now. Why,
haven't worn satin slippers or danced
for an age. And l fancy | almost
dropped a tear over the pretty, foolish
things. What do you think of that, and
l practlcing physician for nearly four
years"
you are a physician, then? You
took your degreeY he queried gently,
refusing to notice either the palpable
and defiant challenge of her manner or
the Interrogation with which she ended
her unstudled confession and quite un-
mindful OF the fact that he was perfect
ly aware of her professional status and
could even have named the date and
| place Of her graduation. well, WE'LL
can hardly grasp 1t. 1t seems so as
tonishing somehow. | cannot fancy the
dear little girl we were talking about
| taking up a profession of that kind.
She was such a dear, tlmid little thing.
| Not SO brilliant as you, of course, but
so tender and loving. She could never
have borne to inflct pain-physical
pain at least-upon others, even II 1t
had been for their ultimate good.
| She"
81 took up the work because 1t was
the hardest for me of anything l could
imagine, and l fancied 1t noble-then-
to compel myself to do the things you
| shrank from, whether other people snf-
| fered with you or not she broke in
impulsIvely. with a smile of mingled
pity and regret for the girl who had
passed through this state OF mind. ut
hurts me to conduct or witness an ope-
ration even now" she added.
"She was SO tender-hearted and affec-
Tomato" he went on quietly, tacitly de-
clining to recognize or accept any ex-
PLANTATION which she might offer, land
she would have made-you don't mind
my speaking famillarly of her now that
she Is dead? No? Then l will go on.
| She would have made such n loyable
wife for some lucky fellow II she had
| only lived. The man whom she
| married could not have helped being
happy, and fairly good fellow, even If
he had tried. Her love-" lowering his
head and voice reverently as he ut
tered the word, would have con-
| strained him to right ways even against
| his will--her love and her beauty.
| Those starry, earnest eyes of hers
seemed to look ones soul through and
through and find out only the goodness
in it after ALL She was too pure and in
nocent to see anything but good, dear
little saint. 1t is not often that one
sees or knows such perfect woman as
she would have made. have never met
with such another he finished.
The girl-she was nothing but a girl
still, in spite of her 81 years and her
physicians diploma-looked down at
her hands In silence as the roast was
served, and his glance followed hers.
They were beautiful hands, smooth,
white and well shaped, but-the girl of
whom they had been speaking pos
sessed hands like those of little child.
and he missed the rosy dimples which
used to crown the juncture of each
slender finger with the dainty PALM
Perhaps the woman beside him OWNED
and resented 1t. At all events she with
drew the altered hands into her lap and
faced him with all the tender softness
of the last few moments banished, and
with the newer air showing forth
again.
"She must have been delightful in
deed. am glad to have had the prlvi-
lege of knowing her." she exclaimed
sarcastically. ''eyen If, at the time of
our acquaintance, did not realize one
tenth of the loneliness and saintliness
which she possessed. But unfortu-
nately," her voice growing harder and
colder as she went on, and the profess
slonal smile appearing brilliantly again,
like all the other paragons and saints,
she is dead. And In her place" she
continued with a defiant air, you be-
hold DIR. Helen Winston"
He bowed tremendously, and as
though to a new acquaintance; she col
ored Indignantly.
Not that l allow my professional
title to be used upon social occasions"
she fastened to add. She was talking
rapidly to cover the emotion which she
could not entirely repress; ut is sell
dom, indeed, that am obliged to con-
slider that side of the question at all.
go into society very little. l am here
tonight because Mrs. Dudley is such
an old and valued friend that she
claims the right Of refusing to take mo-
for an answer to her kindly pressed in
vitations once in while. 1t is only
upon rare occasions that l drop my
workaday name and attire for few
hours, and become somewhat of a but
terfiy again. For the girl, you know,
who loved social festivities so dearly"