The Hood River glacier. (Hood River, Or.) 1889-1933, 1904-02-25
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CHAPTER XI.

and called her by her name.
The crisis had come, and Sarah East
bell had a battle to fight with brain fever
or with a strange delirium which was
akin to It, When she came back to ber'
self, she lay as powerless as GRANDMOTHER
Eastbell at St. Oswalds, of whom she
first thought, along with the feeting fan
cy that she was in one of the wings OF
the almshouses, and that the old woman
was not far away. A fortnight had pass.
ed then, and the face of the nurse had
almost died out of her memory.
"How-is-grandmoth she asked
with difficulty, and pausing at each word.
"She is WELL"
"Wil - you -tell--her--that-I'm--
better, pleaseP
"Yes."
Sarah Eastbell remained satisfied with
the promise, and was silent for awhile.
She slept a great deal that day and the
next, and ate but little, and it was doubt
full whether the complete prostration
which followed would not terminate the
odd life of Second-cousin Sarah
The woman who attended upon her,
and who she began TO recollect was the
freworkers-maker's sister, was kinder
than she had ever been, and watched
her with great gravity of interest as she
hovered on the borderland of life and
death.
Lucy talked to her also with strange
earnestness of those divine truths which
are not to be dwelt upon in the pages of
a story book, and Sarah Eastbell listen
ed with reverence.
Reuben Culwick advanced on tlptoe
into the room, and walked to the bedside
of his cousin, whose face frightened at
the sight of him She was very weak,
and could not reach her hand toward
him, but there was a faint smile of well
come on her wan face.
"Well, Sarah-better, l hopeY he
said, In the cheeriest voice he could as
sume "Oh, yes, you are" said Reuben,
confidently you have got your wits
back. was at Worcester yesterday eff
ternoon."
"And saw grandmother
Il told her that you were staying at
Hope Lodge with me and the Jenningses,
for change of air; that you had not been
very well, but that l should bring you
down to Worcester shortly. l haven't
quite done with my news yet Sarah, do
you remember that bad sovereign Tom
asked you to change at the grocer'S for
himF'
"Ah, yes3'
"Well, l have been to the grocer's; l
havn cfatn1 ha Nth IuaiItfVy nd
eloquence l have appealed to the gro
GERS feelings; l have made him nhed
tears over his own sugar; and he says
that rather than prosecute, after my gen.
tlemanly explanation, he'll see the au-
thorities beaten"
II am very grateful for the trouble
that you have taken," said Sarah, "and
/ feel very happy now"
"Then I'll leave you with those sensa-
tions to get strong upon"
He went down stairs, where was John
Jennings up to his eyes In powder, and
colored fire, and lengths" the picture Of
q busy man.
where's Tots2" he asked.
"She doesn't go into the back room for
fear Of disturbing your cousin. But
she plays In your apartments, and Lucy
looks in and makes sure that she is not
up to mischief"
"She is not in my room," said Reuben.
Perhaps she is in mine"
"Go and see," said Reuben, peremp-
torily.
He took a turn round the back garden,
then walked to the front of the house,
and stood looking up and down the street
with grave earnestness. Presently John
and his sister came out together, white
and scared, and Joined him on the pave
ment
She's gone! You have lost her!" he
exclaimed.
'It's-it's very strange" said John;
''but we can't find her anywhere"
Reuben did not wait to hear any more,
hut ran at his utmost speed to the end of
the street. in the hope Of overtakng the
little feet that he thought might have
strayed in the direction Of the market
gardens where he had been accustomed
to take her. But there was no sign of
his adopted girl, and we may say at once
that Reuben never saw her in Hope street
again. As suddenly as she had crossed
his life, bettering and Frightening it as
by strange influence for good, 80 sud
denly did she pass away, leaving not
trace behind by which to follow her.
When he came back to Hope Lodge,
baffled and heart-sick, when to all the in.
Quiries which he made there was only
one answer returned that no one had
seen poor Tots, the stern consciousness
came to him that he had lost her-that
the little daughter, friend companion,
would never again be as sunshine to his
home.
In three weeks time Reuben Culwick
had learned to despair, He did not know
how much he had loved the child till the
house was destitute Of her presence, and
the little chair stood empty in the corner.
and he could only look at it through his
tears. Sometimes he wished that she
had died, and that he had seen her buried.
rather than have lost her thus and he
left to wonder where she was, and in
whose hands. He became grave man.
who did not care for intrusion on his
thoughts, and who resented it with bit
terness.
Three weeks had passed, we repeat.
and they were like three years TO Rem
ben Culwick. His second-cousin was get
ting well then, although coming back 10
strength by slow degrees, and he was
glad Of that, if he showed but little
sign of rejoicing in those duh days. The
three weeks had turned, and the fourth
week had commenced with work on the
Trumpet that there was no setting aside
which was all the better for Reuben at
that time, and took him out Of himself
when Sarah Eastbell found strength
TO walk downstairs, supported by Miss
Jennings on one side and by Reuben on
the other
The next day Sarah was well enough to
be of use a little, and she volunteered
her services TO John Jennings, who was
still at work for the SaXe-Gotha. Sarah
found that she could manage the
lergths' better than John Jennings. and
the long pipe-like strips which were filled
with a thin vein of gunpowder, and were
afterward twisted into a variety Of
shapes, grew under her hands rapidly.
John Jennings was struck with this ra-
pidity, and pondered over it.
You are handy, Sarah" John said.
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