The San Francisco call., 1904-03-13


We hunt them for the beauty of their skins;
They love US for 1t, and we ride them down.
-rennyson.
The month of Mariposa's tenantry of
the cottage was up. 1t was the last
evening there, and she sat crouched
over handful of fire that burned in
the front parlor CRATE. The room was
half empty, all the superfiuous furni
ture having been taken that morning
by a Jewish second hand dealer. In
one corner stood huddled such relics as
she had chosen to keep, and which
would be borne away on the morrow to
the Garcias' clearinghouse. The mar
quetry sideboard was gone. 1t had
been sold to a Sutter- street dealer for
$25. The red lacquer cabinet, though
no longer hers, still remained. 1t, too,
would be carried away tomorrow
morning by it's new owners. She looked
at ii with melancholy gIances as the
fire light found and lost its golden ira
ceries and sent sudden quivering
CLEANS along it's scarlet doors. The
fire was less luxury than an economy,
to burn the last pieces of coal in the
bin.
Bending over the dancing flames,
Mariposa held her hands open to the
blaze, absently looking at their backs.
They were fine, capable hands, large
and white, with strong wrists and a
forearm so round that it's swell began
halfway between elbow and wrist
bone. Pleased by the warmth that
soothed the chill always induced by
scjourn in the front parlor, she pulled
up her sleeves and watched the CLEAN
of the fire turn the white skin red. She
was sitting thus, when a ring at the bell
made her start and hurriedly push her
sleeves down. Her visitors were so few
that she was almost certain of the
identity of this one. For all the griefs
of the last month she was yet a wo-
man. She sprang to her feet, and as
the steps of the servant sounded in the
hall, ran to the large mirror in the cor
ner and patted and pulled her hair to
the style she thought most becoming.
She had turned from this and was
standing by the fire when Essex en-
tered. He had seen her once since her
mothers death, but she had then been
so preoccupied with grief that, with
selfish mans hatred of all unpleasant
things, he had left her as soon as pos
sible. Tonight he saw that she was re-
was herself again. But he was struck,
almost as soon as his eye fell on her,
by change in her. Some influence had
been at work to effect a subtle and Gu
rious development in her The simpli-
city, the something childish and win
ming that had always seemed so incon-
sistent with her stately appearance,
was gone. Mariposa was coming to
TIC foIr
as he realized she wac handsomer,
richer by some inward growth, more a
woman than she had been month ago.
He took a seat at the other side of
the fire, and the tentative conversa-
ton of commonplaces occupied them
for few moments. The silence that
had held her in a spell of dread dejec-
ton on his former visit was broken.
She seemed more than usually talka-
tive. In fact, Mariposa was beginning
to feel the reaction from the life of
grief and seclusion of the last month.
She was violently ashamed of the sense
of elation that had surged up in her at
the sound OF Essexs voice. She strug
gled to hide it, but it lit a light in her
eyes, called a color to her cheeks that
she could not conceal The presence of
her lover affected her with a sort of
embarrassed exultation that she had
never experienced before. To hide it
she talked rapidly, looking into the fire,
to which she still held out her hands.
Essex, from the other side Of the
hearth, watched her. He saw his ar
rival had made her nervous, and it only
augmented the sentiment that had been
growing in him for months.
She began to tell him Of her move
I'm going tomorrow, in the after
noon. It's queer place. an old house
on Hyde street. with a big pepper
tree, the biggest in the city. they say.
growing in the front garden. 1t was
once quite fine house, long ago in the
early days, and was built by these peo-
pie, the Garcias, when they still had
money. Then they lost it all, and now
the old lady and her sons wife take
few people. as the house is too big for
them and they are so poor. Young
Mrs. Garcia is a widow. Her husband
was killed in the mines by a blast"