The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1903-07-07
CHAPTER xx.-(contlnued.)
1.-The colonel,s Own"

''The house contained another room as
interesting as the one have already men
toned. 1t went by the name OF the library
and its walls were heavily lined with
books; but the family never sat there, nor
was ever fortunate enough to see 1T with
its doors Enclosed except on the occasion
of the grand reception Mistress Calltsta
gave In my honor. l have fancy for big
rooms and more than once urged my hos
tess to tell me why this one stood neg
lected. But the lady was not communi-
cative on this topic and 1t was from an
other member of the household I learned
that It's precincts had been forever
clouded by the unexpected death within
them of one Of her fathers friends,
noted army officer
why this should have occasioned a
permanent disuse Of the spot I could not
understand and as every one who con-
versed on this topic invariably gave the
impression of saying less than the sub
ject demanded, my curiosity soon became
too much for me and l attacked Miss Cal
lista once again in regard to 1T. She gave
me quick smile, for she was always ami
able but shook her head and introduced
another topic. But one night when the
wind was bowling In the chtmneys and
the sense Of loneliness was even greater
than usual In the great house, we drew to-
gether on the rug in front Of my bedroom
fire, and. as the embers burned down
TO ashes before us, MISS Calllsta became
more communicative.
Her heart was heavy, she told me; had
been heavy for years. Perhaps some ray
of comfort would reach her If she took a
friend into her confidence. God knew
that she needed one, especially on nights
like this, when the wind woke echoes all
over the house and 1t was hard to tell
which most to fear the sounds which
came from no one knew where, the
silence which settled after.
She trembled as she said this, and In
stinctively drew nearer my side so that
our heads almost touched over the flicker
Ing flame from whose heat and light we
full for this contact, and tn 1t minute,
fiinging all her scruples to wind, she
began a relation of events which more or
less answered my late unwelcome queries.
1.-THE death in the library, about which
her most perplexing memory hung, took
place when she was a child and her father
held that high governmental position
which has reflected much credit upon
the family. Her father and the man who
thus persisted had been intimate friends.
They had fought together in the war of
1872 and received the same distinguishing
marks of presidential approval afterward.
They were both members of an important
commission which brought them into dip
lomatic relations with England. 1t was
while serving on this commission that the
sudden break occurred which ended all
intimate relations between them, and Gre
ated a change in her father that was
equally remarked at home and abroad
What occasioned this break no one knew.
Whether his great ambition had received
some check thru the jealousy Of this So
called friend-a supposition which did not
seem possible as he rose rapidly after this
Or on account of other causes darkly
limited at by his contemporaries but never
breaking into open gossip he was never
the same man afterwards. His children
who used to rush with effusion to greet
him, now shrank into corners at his step
or slid behind half open doors, whence
they appeared with fearful interest at his
tall figure, pacing in moody silence the
halls Of his ancestral home, or sitting with
frowning brows over the embers dying
away on the great hearthstone Of his IA
nous library. 1885,.
Their mother, who was an invalid, did
not share these terrors. The father was
ever tender of her, and the only smile they
ever saw on his face came with his en-
trance into her darkened room.
Such were Callista Moores first mem
cries. Those which followed were more