The White Pine news. [volume] (Treasure City, Nev.) 1868-1906, 1902-01-09
CHAPTER XVIII

From one of the luxurlously furnished
chambers of her fathers elegant mansion
Jenny Lincoln looked mournfully out up
on the thick, angry clouds which, the live
long day, had obscured the winter sky.
Dreamily for while she listened to the
patter of the rain as 1t fell upon the de-
serted pavement below, and then, with a
long, deep sigh, she turned away and
wept. Poor JENNY the day was rainy
and dark and dreary, but darker far were
the shadows stealing over her pathway.
Turn which way she would there was not
one ray of sunshine which even her buoy
ant spirits could gather from the sur
rounding gloom. Her only sister was
slowly but surely dying, and when Jenny
thought of this she felt that IL Rose could
only live she'd try and bear the rest; try
to forget how much she loved William
Bender, who that morning had honorably
and manfully asked her of her parents.
and been spurned with eontempt-not by
her father, for could he have followed
the dictates of his better Judgment be
would willingly have given his daughter
to the care Of one who he knew would
carefully shield her from the storms of
life. Ii was not he, but the cold, proud
mother, who so haughtily refused VIII
liam's request, accusing him of taking
underhand means to win her daughters
affections.
II had rather see you deadr' said the
stony-hearted woman, when Jenny knelt
at her feet and pleaded for her to take
back the words she had spoken. Il had
rather see you dead than married to such
as he. | mean what have said, and YOU
will never be his"
Jenny knew William too well to think
he would ever sanction an act Of disobe-
dience to her mother, and her heart grew
faint and her eyes grew dim with tears.
as she thought Of conquering the love
which had grown with her growth and
strengthened with her strength. There
was another reason, too. why Jenny
should weep as she sat alone in her room.
/ From her father she had heard OF all that
was to happen. The Injuries to which all
her life she had been accustomed were
| to be hers no longer. The pleasant eoun-
try house in Chicopee, dearer far than
her city home, must be sold, and no
where in the wide world was there a
| place for them to rest.
Mr.. Lincoln entered his daughter
room, and bending affectionately over her
pillow said, How is my darling to-dayT'
Better. better-almost well.' returned
Rose, raising herself in bed to prove whai
she had said. II shall be out In a few
days, aud then you'H buy me one of thoss
elegant plaid silks, won't your All the
girls are wearing them, and / haven
had a new dress fhis winter, and her,
tits almost March,
Oh. how the father longed to tell hii
dying child that her next dress would b.
a shrOud. But be eould not. He was to,
much man Of the world to speak to he
of death; so without answering her ques
tion he said: Rose, do you think yoi
are able to be moved into the country q
what, TO Chicopeef that horrid. dul
place? | thought we were not going Their
this summer
No. not to Chicopee, but TO your grand
ma Howland's in Glenwood. The physi
clan thinks you will be more quiet there
and the pure air will do you good"
Rose looked earnestly in her father
face to see If he meant what he said, an,
then replied: I'D rather go anywhere il
the world than to Glenwood. You've n,
idea how | hate to stay there. Grandma
10 ~ Ib'NA hhh Ant AuihEs III lnt HbhSt 81
fussy and countryfed--an cooks by
fireplace, and washes in a tin basin. an,
wipes on a crash towel that hangs on
roller!"
MIR. Lincoln could hardly repress
smile at Roses reasoning. but perceiyin,
that he must be decided, he said: wv,
think 1t best for you to go, and shall ac
cordingly make arrangements to take yor
in the course of a week o, two. You
mother will stay with you, and Jenny
too, will be there a part of the time;'
then, not wishing to witness the effect o.
his words, he hastily left the ROOM pans
ing in the hall to wipe away the tear,
which inyoluntarily came to his eyes a,
he overheard Rose angrily wonder "whJ
she should be turned out of doors wher
she wasn't able to sit upI'
Il never can bear the scent Of those
great tallow candles, never,r said she
"and then to think OF the coarse sheets
and patchwork bedquilts-oh, it's dread
fulr'
Ienny'a hart too was uyaI niok kn-.t