The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1904-06-21

the present aour, and she went out on the
vefanda, chatting because 1T was getting
| late.
HE prefers to stop at the Office until
| the last minute" she thought bitterly.
HE certainly takes care to avoid me
/ suppose he'll be quite as glad as
! grew from a matter of minutes to one
of an hour the silent, deserted rooms be-
gan to Cypress her; apparently the boys
had had orders from Frere to go-he him
| self was returning at dinner time to life
! between hotel and a solitary room over
the Office.
Nina went back to the corner where the
mehtar's wife and baby might, at least
| give her some sense of companlonshlp;
but they were gone, and the sudden
| Eastern night came down on her lonel1-
ness She found a lamp and tried to
! light 1t. but some prudent soul among the
/ boys had emptied 1t of all oil. For
\ moment she thought of going down to
| find a messenger to send to Frere's office;
! then the slight absurdity struck her of
diSpatching an urgent request for the
man whom she was in an hours time to
| dismiss out of her life. Finally. she
could endure the silent darkness no long
J er, and went down the stairs, angry with
! herself and with Frere for this foolish
| fiasco. She had not very clear notions of
| how one got to Garden Reach, only that.
| the passengers launch having left the
CHAT long since, she would have to take
native dingy somewhere.
AS she turned the corner OF the stairs,
/ some one cannoned against her. and his
brief apology was followed by, oh! Isn't
| it Mrs. Frere? Will you come, please. at
| once? I've a gharri waiting
In my husband there-are you from
/ his Officer she asked, chilly. looking up
! in the dim light at this perfectly UNI
known young man who seemed in such
| haste.
mo I'm not in my Freres office; I'm
! up country-juSt down here for few
days-oniy there was no one else seemed
available to bring you. Won't you get in,
/ please. and can explain as we go? These
| tfcca Charles aren't very rapid at best"
1t was one of the open ramshackles
which are Calcutta'S combined apologies
| for hanson and victoria. AS it turned,
she said, quickly, Where is the man go
4 Isn't Mr. F'rere at the ghat?''
mo; we are going to the General hos
pital,' he said, slowly. turning, toward her,
with gravity shadowing his boyish face.
1 There was tram accident this after
noon-but they only found out his ad
dress Just now. I'm awfully sorry-Im
| telling it rather clumSily, I'm afraid"-
as the girls lips began to CULVER and
| queer look came into her eyes
| oh. I'm all right-Im not going to do
anything ridiculous! Only-only it's so
very-odd'' she answered, with an hys-
| terical little laugh, thinking of the alb
surdity Of having to sustain the attitude
| OF devoted Wlfe toward the man from
whom she was soon to have parted for
ever
There's no accounting for the way
woman takes thing, L suppose thought
| the lad at her side, ''but she seems to be
! jolly cool about it"
Which. thought was evident in the stiff
ness that came into his voice when he
next spoke, telling her briefly the few
| details he had of the accident, and that
| there had been some operation; to all of
| which her only response was silence
/ After that little laugh, she sat quite STILL
| her face turned away from him, looking
| DULY. at the lines of belated- carriages
which swept past them down ChoWringhi
| filled mostly by Eurasians looking more
/ of life in general than of no
! and by fat and complacent BabuS with
| as many olive branches as could be in
conveniently packed into the conveyance
| They drove in silence to the hospital
compound, and her companion handed
| her over to a nurse, with a lift of the hat
and a mental hope that that poor devil
| upstairs would find her-Well, different.
1t was a native child you know, one
Of those bits of girls that are always
lodging under ones horses feet-wonder
la dozen a day don't get killed 1t was
a foolish thing to do unless the man was
| tired Of his life. l believe he threw the
child right from under the tram. and. of
| course, got smashed Instead Those cleo
| tr1c trans never ought to have been al
| lowed in the Streets-ta least not with
native drivers. This makes the fifth ac-
-c1dent already
/ The clear voice of the hospital senior
surgeon came to her through the thin
plaster walls of the little room where
| they had told her to wait; obviously he
! did not know anyone was there.
! Think he'll pull through" said an
| other voice. which she recognized as that
of the manager of her husbands office.
He's got good chance-if he cares to
! keep it, " the other replied. He has a
t1rst-rate constitution, or he'd have gone
under; but he seems queer sort of fell
| lOW-aS If he hadn't any particular anxi-
| ETY. to live. Seemed rather disappointed
after we'd operated, to find that he was
/ still alive"
bad job for his wife. isn't it? 1 be-
| neye she was going home tomorrow, too,
/ in the Malta
'-Oh?'' said the doctor, carelessly. per
haps that accounts for it, And then an
other voice joined in, evidently a nurse
| and Nina moved away to the other side
| of the little room. her face set and her
eyes hard with a sudden passionate re-
sentiment against these people who were
| keeping her from her husband He was
| hers-hers; what right had they to talk
anout hlm-and about her-in that cold
| blooded way? She was blindly angry with
| everything and everyone for this swift
/ breaking down of her world that new
| world which she had been so carefully
| constructing of late, wherein she would
/ forget all the unpleasant things and real
| ~ enjoy life. Except, perhaps, with him.
| with the utter unreRsOnableness Of q
| woman, she only felt pity for him-pity
! and curious indefinite feeling which
she had never yet had for her husband
The voices ceased, and she stood idls
1 watching man and woman on the YER
! anda below her-both of them with the
| thin, un-parched faces and dead, weary
eyes of the country born and bred,
| lie IIltu WdS making a lew ShuffliDU
| steps to and fro, the woman taking half
| his weight; evidently she was living in
| hospital with him, after the curious fash
| ion OF India. Neither of them was at
| tract1ve, except so far as the COMMONPLACE
| tragedy of their obvious poverty and the
| mans illness went but as they came
slowly into the patch of vivid moonlight
| on their veranda, the look in the Woman's
| face suddenly took the hardness from
NINA s; the absorbed, heart aching de-
| Vouon OF those weary eyes that never
moved from watching the mans face made
| her shlVer and turn away as if she had no
| right to see such things
| Then nurse came to take her to her
| husband, with a warning that she must
| pc very quiet and not excite him left
| them together. The glaring moonlight
! was screened out of the tiny private room
| where they had put him; in the dim
light Nina hardly saw his first look
toward her. yet the likeness of his eyes
to. those of the woman she had just seen
made her throat choke and words inn
possible.
| Im-afraid-Tve upset you. the old
have-happened-just now" But the girl
! was down on her knees by him. his hands
! in hers and the light dawning in her eyes
/ which he had never seen there vet, cry
| ing brokenly, ALLAN! Oh. Allan!' And
with the cry he knew that between the
heights and the depths there is a middle
1 way on which they had, at last entered
together.-The Sketch.