The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1898-11-01
,n.anI 1893, q ]. s.eslneor1- eoeee4sxa


come or We're expected from tie com
mand afield, yet speedily coming back
to the real object of her constant
thoughts, the now much honored Off
Ger, her next door neighbor. For three
days after he was pronounced able to
sit up she did not succeed in seeing him
at all, though SO many other aud, it
should be explained, much older women
did, but that did not abate one whit
her determination that he should speed
lily see her.
just what her object was she herself
could not have told. 1t was an instinct
an impulse, whim perhaps, but he
who had been her lover and was reject
ed had dared to gaze into her face with
eyes serene and untroubled, had met
her but half yelled references to old
days with polite but positive indiffer-
ence She had nothing to ask Of him,
she told herself She meant no disloy-
atty to Harry, no wrong of any kind.
Not a bit of it. She had treated Bar
clay very badly. She had done him
wrong that was much greater in her
own estimation than it was in that of
any one of her neighbors, among whom
the women at least considered the loss
of his inamorata a blessing in disguise,
but Laura fully believed that Barclays
heart must have been crushed in the
depth of his woe, and that it was now
her duty to make friends again-per-
haps in some way to console him, not,
of course, in any way to which Harry
could object; not, of course, in any way
to which the post ought to object, but
well. even to herself, as has been said,
she could not entirely and satisfactorily
explain her motive. 1t was impossible
therefore that she could hope to do SO
to anybody else, and yet she had dared
to write to him. 1t was only little
note, and yet with all its inconsistent
cies it said SO much:
i DEAR CAPTAIN BARCLAY-I cannot tell you
my distress at hearing of your again being Sc
vercly wounded, especially at a time when
| had hoped to have you meet and better know
my husband, but now in his distressing alb
sence 1, who more than any woman at this
post am anxious to show my sympathy and
sorrow, am practically helpless. Do tell me if
there is anything can do, though am sure
can't see what is left for me, with no cook or
kitchen, and Mrs. Frazier and the Misses Fra
\
envy them and Mrs Blythe the privilege Of
their years in going to see you personally, for
am not at least your oldest friend9 L. W.
This ingenuts1s note was sent by
Hannibal at an hour when the captain
was alone, and when, had he been dis
posed, he might have hobbled to the
door and answered in person; but hob
BILE he did not, nor did he answer until
4 after long thought He received the lit
tie missive with surprise, read it with
out tremor of hand or lip, but with
something Of shame and pity that over
spread his face like cloud. Was he
only just beginning to know her, after
all?
Pray do not give my scratch a thought-he
answered in writing late that afternoon-and
believe, my dear Mrs. Vim, that have every
comfort that one can possibly desire. Every
one is most kind expect to be out with my
men in week and shall be delighted to take
the field and send Mr.. VIM back to you forth
with. Most sincerely.
And that was how, with polite but
positive Indifference, he had treated her
reference to old times and old friends.
Shallow as she was, Laura VIM was
deep enough to see that he meant to
hold himself far aloof from her. He
could hardly have told her more plainly
he would have none Of her He had
even dared to say it would be pleasure
to go that he might send her husband
back to her arms. And this was the
man she once thought she loved, the
man who, she believed, adored her and
would never outlive the passion of his
sorrow at losing her.
], Even now the foolish heart of the
woman might have accepted it's lesson,
but it was time for friends again to
come, and, as Laura expressed it, "pry
and prod and preach, and that brought
on climax.
Mrs. Faulkner had dropped in and
dropped out again, and Laura, who
seemed forever going to the porch these
days, followed and called her back.
Zone thing you said don't under
stand, she began, and Mrs. Faulkner's
pretty face showed plainly there had
been something Of storm.
[ II said this, Laura" her friend re-
sponded, permitting her to go no fur
Their, but turning at the step and look
ing up into her indignant eyes. "You
do yourself injury by showing such
concern about Captain Barclay. Every
body says SO, and it's all wasted as far
]. as he's concerned. He never notices
your messages in any way"
. TWAS CALLING to feel herself censured
or criticised, but Mrs. VIM was be-
coming used to that. It was worse
than CALLING to be told that her whilom
lover now turned from her almost with
; contempt. She could bear it that they
should say that Galahad Barclay was
again circling within danger of her
destinations and would speedily find
himself powerless to resist. She could
not bear it that they should declare him
dead to her. The anger ablaze in her
eyes and flushing her cheeks was some
thing even Mrs. Faulkner had never
; seen before. 1t was as though she had
|, reused some almost tigerish trait. For
a moment Laura stood p1arinp at her