The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1905-06-30
VOL. LIMO. 26


smoother. He held his breath and half
closed his eyes that he might watch it.
1t went away. Too weak to turn his
head, he waited till it fluttered down
again with cup of milk. There was no
| woman in the district with such n hand,
and full of the wonder of it he fell asleep.
He dreamed of beautiful things-white
flowers, white doves, white hands. WAX
ing stronger for long rest, his first move
ment was one of curiosity. A woman, in
a pale blue sunbonnet that completely
shaded her face, was pouring something
into glass at the washstand. Was it
possible that ugly bonnet could go with
those slender fingers? He asked for a
drink of water. To his joy the same
hand appeared again.
as it evening"" he asked, when she
had taken away the cup.
mo, it is morning." returned a voice
that was little more than whisper.
Then please will you be so kind as to
let in some light ?"
Light is not good for you just yet"
was the answer in subdued tones.
Geraldson was not strong enough to
dispute this point, and he lay quiet, in
wardly vexcd at the bonnet. Ideas came
to him slowly. At last he asked. bril-
liantly: xviii you please tell me who
you are"
81 am nurse
"a nurse" heconsidered forsom time.
How did you come here?''
THAT is very simple. Your little girl
was crying on the trail, and came in
and found you"
"And you stayed and nursed mellow
wonderfully good of you"
mot at ALL" The voice was cold.
you would have done the same your
SELF"
"Oh, but not in the way you are do
ing" he returned modestly.
After that he pondered for long time.
She had happened to be passing" as
though a road that led to nowhere were
a much-frequented thoroughfare. That
in itself was miracle, and her beautiful
hands, her movements, so unlike those of
a mountain woman, were something to
brood upon.
"But why did you come here" he asked,
after long silence. "No one ever comes
here"
81 came to see nv brother"
He dared not ask her any more. He
could only suppose that while he had
been away some stranger had come into
the district. But any attempt at con-
nected thought was too much for him,
and again he fell asleep.
When he was breathing quietly, the
woman with the beautiful hands threw
off the bonnet as though she were tired
of the troublesome disguise, and leaning
her chin upon her hand, gazed intently at
his pallid face. Still she kept the bonnet
On her lap, ready to don it at the moment
HtisHdnld show signs 81 wakiing. for>shes
WAS determined that heshould .hotrecog i
nize r-shoudinA4e tncvathae ii WAS
she, Elsie Vining, who had sawed. him.
She had taken the initiative, come out
from the East, because mere letters were
not enough, and she had felt at last that
she must have something more tangible
than these impersonal epistles. She had
discovered him in his extremity, and had
brought him back to life. But her JOY in
this was chastened. She knew now why
his letters had been so cold. She had been
no more than an abstraction, an intel
lectual page in his life. He had not even
thought it necessary to tell her of the i'm
portant events that were taking place
with him. He had concealed-say, rather,
ignored, as of no possible interest to her
the fact that he had married and had
little daughter. He had never even told
her that his wife was dead, as she could
only suppose she must be. 1t was plain
that he had not cared as she had cared
He had not remembered-perhaps had
never xperienced-those moments when
they had met in Boston FIVE years ago, in
which it had seemed to her so much had
passed without words between them
that even in the letters-for all their inn
personalty-it had appeared permissible
to read between the lines meanings ten
der and magnetic. She had taken too
much for granted. She blushed to the
roots of her hair, and hid her face in the
bonnet as though it were a veil. Out
side the open window she could hear the
little child singing to herself Had he
| loved the mother very much, she won
| dered? Love? What had she to do with
love? 1t was high time she should take
her departure. She went restlessly out
of the room and into the kitchen, where
the nurse, for whom she had sent to San
Francisco, had already begun feminine
revolution in the bachelor order of things.
| AS she worked, this young woman
glanced out of the window at Margery
at play beneath the trees, remarking
that the child was the very image of her
father. The other briefly assented, and
Immediately went out into the open air
and looked at the little girl from a short
way off. Il suppose there is likeness, "
she said to herself, "but can't see it"
1t was strange, she thought, that she
should never have heard of Geraldson's
marriage. How blind she had been not
to suspect some affair of the heart, which
would account for his sudden departure
for the West. OF course, he had loved an
other woman. She wondered if the child
was very like her. AT that moment Mar
gerry came running up, and, forcing down
the primal instinct that had prompted
her to turn away, she held out her arms,
drew the "other woman's" child to her
breast, and kissed her.
The little creature looked up ut her
with her fearless eyes. YOU'RE the lady,
aren't you?" she said.
"The lady-what LADY,"
That lady that daddy talks about
that's coming to be my muvver."
Outwardly quiet, she kissed her again,
but it was as though door not quite
closed, had violently shut, never to open
again. She went back into the house,
into GeraldSon's room; but when she saw
him look toward her, pathetic in his
helplessness, her heart beat SO quickly she
could not bring herself to say good-by at
once, and sat down i'll the shadow, angry
at her own weakness.
Nurse" said Geraldson, won't you
draw up the blind? Maynt see your
face?"
| 1.-THE E.ht womb hurt ,.n11r crcs y she