The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1902-09-03
The Gentleman From Indiana
BY BOOTH TRRKIWGTON
Copyright by Doubleday & Mcclure Co., 1892


man with white hair and kind eyes. You |
saw my uncle that night; he has been as |
good to NE father. since was seven |
years old, and he gave me his name by |
law and I lived with him. My father |
came to see me once year; never came |
to see him. He always told me every |
thing was we'll with him; that his life |
was happy. Once he. lost the little
he had left to him in the world |
He had no friends; he was hungry and
desperate. and he wandered. I was dane
ing and going about wearing jewels-only
i did not know. All the time the brave
heart wrote me happy letters. T should
have known, for there was one who did,
| and who saved him. When at last came
to see my father, he told me. He had
written Of his idol before; but it was not
till came that he told it all to me- Do
you know what felt? While his daugh-
ter was dancing cotilions, a stranger had
| taken his hand-and-" A sob rose in
her throat and checked her utterance for
moment; but she threw up her head and
met his eyes proudly. Gratitude, Mr.
Harkless!' she cried. II am James Fis-
bees daughter"
He fell back from the bench with a
sharp exclamation. and stared at her
through the gray twilight. She went on
hurriedly. again not looking at him:
when you showed me that you cared
Tor me-when you told me that you did
do you think wanted to care for you
wanted to do something to show you
mat 1 could be ashamed Of my vile ne
eject OF h1m-something to show you his
daughter could be grateful If had
| loved you, what did would have been for
! that-and l could not have done it, And
| now could have shown my gratitude if
mad done 1T for love-? And it has been
such dear, happy work, the little I have
| oone That it seems after all, that I have
uone II Tor love of myself But-but when
| you hrst told me" She broke off with
! strange futtering, half inarticulate little
laugh that was half tears; and then re-
| sumed In another tone: when YOU told
me you cared that night-that night we
were here-how could be sure? It had
oeen only two days, you see, and even if
cou,a nave been sure Of myself. why,
| couldn have told you. Oh! I had so
| brazenly thrown myself at yo,1r head
| 'lnle ana again, those two days, in my
my worship of your goodness to nv father
ana my excitement in recognizing in his
tilend the hero Of my girlhood, that you
tie'u every rlsht to think cared; but if
| out If l had-if had-loved YOU with NV
Whole SOUL I could not have-whv no
woman could have--I mean the sort of
girl am couldn't have admitted it.
must nave denied it. And what I was trv-
ing TO 90 for you when we met In Rouen
"as-Was counting you. You surely see
couldn't have done it If 7 had cared IT,
would have been brazen! And do VA,
think that then 1 could have answered.
es-even If I wanted to-even If I had
oeen sure OF myself? And now" Her
voice sank again to a Whisper And
| now" ~
From the meadows across the creek
and over the fields, came a far tinh,ine ee a.
| 1arm-bells. Three months ago at hi.
hour' John Harkless had listened to that
| SOUND and Its great lonesomeness had
touched his heart like a cold hand: but
now as the mists were rising from the
water and the small stars pierced the skv
one ny one' gllnt1ng down through the
dim, unreasonable blue distances. he
found no loneliness in heaven or earth
He leaned forward toward her; the bench
was between them. The last light was
gone; evening had fallen
! And now he said z
she moved backward as he leaned near
| CT.
You promised to remember on the
Gay you understood" she answered, a.
little huskily, that it was all from the
purest gratitude"
And-and there is nothing eIse?'
IL mere were she said, and her voice
grew more and more unsteady IF there
Were' cant you see that what I have
) done| She stopped, and then. sud-
denly, "Ah. it would have been brazen!"
lie looked up at the little stars and he
} heard the bells, and they struck into his
neart IKE d1rge. He made a singular
gesture of abnegation, and then dropped
) upon the bench with tbs head bowed be-
tween his hands.
} She pressed her hand to her bosom
) watching him In startled fashion, her
eyes wide and her lips parted. She took
q few quick, short steps toward the gar
den, still watching him over her shoulder.
You mustn't worry, he said, not lifting
ms bent head. Il know you're sorry. I'll
be all right in minute
She gave a hurried glance from right
V to left and from left to right like one in
. terror seeking way of escape; she ga tn
cred her skirts in her hand, as If to run
into the garden: but suddenly she turned
and ran to him-ran to him swiftly, with
her great love shining from her eyes, She
sank upon her knees beside him. She
threw her arms about his neck and kissed
him on the forehead.
"Oh, my dear, don't you see?" she
whispered, don't you see-don't you
see?"
When they heard the judge calling from
the orchard, they went back through the
5 garden toward the house. 1t was dark
the whitest asters were but gray
r splotches. There was no one In the or
J. chard; Briscoe had gone indoors. did
n you know you are to drive me into town
, in the phaeton for the freworks?" she
v asked
"Fireworks?
Il Eyes; the great Harkless has come
n home.' Even in the darkness he could
= see the look the vision had given him
when the barouche turned into the square
. She smiled upon him and said, 'An after
noon I was wishing could have beer
a your mother"
d He clasped her hand more tightly. "This
wonderful world!'' he cried YESTERDAY
had a doctor-a doctor to cure me Of
| love-sickness!"
They went on little way. 1--WE must
hurry she said. Il am sure they have
), been waiting for U.S. This was true
they had
From the dining room came laughter
and hearty voices, and the windows were
n bright with the light of many lamps. By
e and by. they stood just outside the patel
Of light that fell from one Of the windows
t Look" said Helen. AREN'T they good
- dear people?'
o 1.-The beautiful people!" he answered.
The end.