Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1905-04-15
CHAPTER XIII.


my toilet l carefully brushed my hair
In different ways, trying which was the
more becoming. But with all my pains,
l cut but a very sorry figure.
Dear me, how spruce you look this
moruing" said Martha, ms | came down
to breakfast. "And quite elated too"'
Before 10 o'clock | was in the neigh
borhood of her house 1t was too early
to go there yet so | fingered about for
a time. How very awkward it was that
l had no knowledge of her name! | had
quite forgotten to ask It, AS the time
drew near | began to feel nervous. A
church clock struck eleven as | timidly
knocked at the door | was answered by
a stout, good tempered looking old lady.
You have a young lady staying here,
began, in a hesitating tone.
"Oh, you are the young man that Miss
Clara expects, | suppose" Saying which,
the old lady deliberately drew a pair
Of spectacles out of her pocket, and ad-
justing them, carefully scrutinized me.
My appearance seemed to satisfy her, for
she said, in a more friendly tone, walk
In, young man; Miss Clara will be with
you directly"
She showed me into a neat little par
Tor. Upon the table were several water
colored drawings, some finished, some I'M
finished; also some Berlin wool work.
Bouquets Of flowers were everywhere;
upon the table amidst the work, upon the
mantelpiece in two vases, upon a little
stand facing the window, and upon the
cottage piano that stood in a corner. The
air was loaded with their perfume. In
a few moments the door opened and
Clara came into the room.
You have come, them she said, with
her sweet, melancholy smile.
AS if aught but death or Imprisonment
could have kept me away!
She painted water-colOr pictures, and
did Berlin wool work for the shops, she
told me. She sat down at once and be-
gan her work and | waited upon her,
washed her brushes, ground her colors,
adjusted the blind, and between these
little Offices | watched her busy fingers;
but oftener my eyes were upon her face,
craving its every lineament upon my
memory. Never have | looked upon an
other face so spiritually beautiful. 1t
was one of those heads that the old Ital-
ian painters loved to give to their An
gels and Madonnas, so prefectly serene,
The fair wavy hair, untrammeed by
art; the oval face, neither full. nor thin,
but perfectly smooth; the low forehead;
the blue eyes; the straight Grecian nose;
the small mouth; the swelling, gracefully
arched neck the skin so delicately white,
tinted upon the cheeks with the faintest
carnation. Her figure was of about the
middle height, exquisitely graceful, yet
painfully fragile. She wore a black
dress, made high to the neck, with a
small, plain white collar
We talked very little; she was too busy
with her work, and silence was more
congenal with our mood.
At 3 o'clock Mrs. Wilson called us to
dinner, which we took in breakfast
parlor below The old lady was very
chatty and very curious, and asked me
a great number Of indirect questions:
those l did not care to answer | CON
triyed pretty skillfully to evade.
You must excuse my questions, sir"
she said but although Miss Clara is
no relation Of mine, and, indeed, ! know
nothing about her, still | feel as much
interested in her as though she were my
own child she is so innocent, and knows
so little about the world, that it's quite
necessary that she should have some one
to look after her. Now, you are the
first visitor that She has ever had. and
she has lived with me these two years.
But when she came home last night she
told me that she had met an old ac-
quaiutance who was coming to see her:
that he had come to the city in search of
employment, and had no friends nor ac-
quaintances, aud was so dreadfully mis-
cradle that it made her quite unhappy
to see him. At first, | set my face
against it, but she soon coaNed me over,
and | compromised the matter by saying
that you should come this once, but that
If l did not approve of you, it was to be
the first and the last visit But | must
say you seem very nice, quiet. modest
sort OF young gentleman. And what kind
Of employment might you be seekingy'
| told her | had been usher at n school.
but that at present | was doing copying.
did not say of what kind. The old
lady remarked that an usher's was a
very genteel sort of employment. Alto
gether she seemed very we'll satisfied
with me.
In the evening Mrs. Wilson brought
her sewing up into the parlor, and pro
posed that l should read to them. And
so the evening glided on, oh, so rapidly
until / could no longer see in the dark
ening twilight, and then we all sat neal
the window; Mrs. Wilson chatting, l ant
Clara silent. She gazing into the street
with that absent look so common to her
| watching every motion Of her face, a.
il grew more and more indistnct in tn,
deepening shadows. Lights were brought
then it was time to so.
"You will come and see me again
won't your" she said, as she gave me he
hand at the gate.
| wanted no pressing, and arrange,
that would come again on Monday. Sb
wished me good night. and went in an
oIoea1 tho aonr and the day vas -