El Paso daily herald. (El Paso, Tex.) 1881-1901, 1900-06-14
THE WORLD
FORGETTING

House-to distinguish her from the
younger one, her niece, who shared her
home and whose flowerlike face had earn
ed for her the pet name of Daisy.
'Have you no desire, Aunt Cicely,"
said Daisy, ito see the world, to be of
some account in it, to take your share
with the rest in all that makes up life?"
Il think" replied Miss Sheraton slow
~, cit is best not. From here one can
see it all. One can live, in a measure,
in it, yet not of it. One can keep one
self unspotted, single hearted, self re-
specting Over there"-she waved a
fragile white hand in the direction of the
tree tops, as though the world lay just be-
yond-''it is turmoil, medley, whirl of
strife and jealousy and disappointment.
Here-it is peace"
But that may be well for you," said
Daisy mpatiently-"you, who are con-
tent with this remote existence, who have
no ambitions, no interests, no thoughts
even beyond this garden. But for me-
in her earnestness she laid one hand on
her heart-"I have n yearning that moth
ing here will ever satisfy L feel that L
possess the power of being some one, Of
doing something"
Miss Sheraton's eyes, clear gray, with
a marvellous depth and light in them, had
ceased to dwell on the distance and were
now looking intently into Daisy's face
with a question in them
Daisy" she said softly, while she
noted the fire in the bright young eyes,
the fever in the rose leaf cheeks, the
culver of the tremulous, sweet mouth,
''are you SO sure it would bring you hap
piness?'
ITO go out into the world, to make
ones mark i'll some way, however small?
Quite sure" replied the confident. eager
voice.
IF some one else, some one belonging
to you," Miss Sheraton continued mu-
singly, made a mark, as you say, would
that content you?''
THAT would be something" Daisy adj
mitted. ''But-why do you ask, Aunt
Cicely?"
\ blush deepened the rose color. Her
thoughts were circling round some one
who had come into the darkness of her
life for one brief week and gone back
into the turmoil and the strife.
Could Aunt Cicely mean But he
would never come back again to this
fame forsaken little spot, where she must
spend her days.
There is no one belonging to me" she
went on in a low voice. You know,
Aunt Cicely, l am quite alone"
You have me, dear" There was no
reproach in Miss Sheraton's tone, and
Daisy was unconscious of the cause for
any when she answered carelessIy, "Oh,
yes, dear, l have you, but
And so, breaking off, she went away to
smother the aching of her heart in the
orchard blossom showers.
You are Miss Sheraton's sole heir and
representative" said the lawyer, with a
glance at Daisy's tear stained face. 81
must ask you to go through all her pa
pers with me-
Only three weeks since they looked out
over the hills together in the sunset, and
already the light had failed.
Daisy felt that, though the doors of
her captivity stood ajar, she scarcely
wished to pass them. The Dover House
seemed no longer a prison, but sanctu-
airy.
The bureau, with its inlaid top and
quaint, brass handled drawers, held prob
ably nothing but a few treasured letters
and stray keepsakes of Aunt Cicely's re-
tired life.
For my niece Daisy, to be disposed of
as she thinks fit" The slip of paper on
clear and beautiful hand was attached to
a thick folio of manuscript in the same
familiar writing.
On the other side of the drawer was a
sheaf of corrected proofs, book and all
album, in which, arranged with exquisite
neatness, were hundreds of newspaper
cuttings, all touching on the merits of a
book that few years before had taken
the world by storm.
In The Fantasy of Life" said the
first of these extracts, I'VE find an in
sight, depth of discernment and SYM
pathetic comprehension with regard to
human nature that is rare it is de-
hghtful. The writer, unknown hitherto,
yields with skillful fingers a key to the
of reality and of ideality that to many of
US has remained closed until now. 1t is
the work of a fine intellect and a cult
waited mind, and the author has undoubt-
eddy lived the experience it shows. We
can only hope that it will be followed
quickly by another"
With trembling fingers Daisy turned
over page after page, realizing gradually
who tho SO. L. S." must be whose writ
ing had stirred the hearts of thousands
of people and for whose revelation they
had clamored.
Farther on were letters from other pub
ishers, directed to these initials at the
publishing Office of the book and offering
high terms for second one
With beating heart and bewildered
eyes Daisy turned to the manuscript be-
queathed to her and read the title and
dedication: Beyond the Eaves. By
Cicely Sheraton &C. l.. s.. To Daisy.
whose wings are growing"
The tumult of feelings that possessed
her clamored like the voices of distant
world at her brain. Fame and fortune
embodied in her legacy, reckoning to her
directly and Indirectly with dazzling in
sistence, wonderment and sort of wor-
ship taking the place of her former toler
ance of Aunt Cicely-above all, a sense
of regret so keen as to touch remorse, for
this master mind near her own, appre-
citation, understanding, reverence.
How joyfuily they might have spread
their wings together and returned, after