The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1905-06-30
The Cry On The Trail.
CONTINUED FROM FIRST PAGE.

cried. And you've done SO much for me
| can'ttveu thank you. | don't know
what Your name is I've never seen you
event"
She said nothing, but slowly measured
something into a glass. He could not
see she was trembling.
May have Il drink" he asked, as
She put down the tumbler.
She had intended to go now immediate
IL. She felt she had fingered too long,
but she could not refuse his request. She
held the cup to his lips, and he drank
slowly, looking ut her hands. which
would flutter away so soon, like white
birds of passage. lie was very weak,
and the tears came into his eyes. The
hands were so beautiful-so like her
hands.
She took the cup an rinsed it careful
" and slowly. At the same moment
little feet battered along the passage and
baby hands heat upon the door. She
opened it and carried little Margerv TO
the bedside, telling her to be very quiet.
But Geraldson had turned his face to the
wall, and took no notice. Having looked
at him gravely. the child seated herself
upon the floor and began to examine the
heap of treasures in her lap. Suddenly
size held up a chubby hand with an enve-
lope.
"A ettcry' she said, emphatically, to
the strange lady. "A 'etter"
rs it for me, dear?'
"Ess. for 'oo!' She ran across the
room, and held it out triumphantly.
The eyes under the sunbonnet glanced at
it with indifference. Then at the name
on it-a name with no address-the
beautiful hands clutched it eagerly. A
moment after touch on Geraldson's
shoulder forced him to turn.
Here's letter." said the quiet voice,
.'to Miss Vining. The address is not
finished. Do you wish it mailed?"
At the thought of her so far away, so
inaccessible, Geraldson's eyes filled again.
"No, no." he murmured, turning to
wall again, at isn't to be posted. l
havn't any right" The next minute he
begged her, halfquerulously, to give it
to him that he might put it under his
pillow. But the room was empty. She
had gone.
Outside on the veranda, she paced up
and down with the unopened envelope
in her hand. He had wanted it back
She had known that even as she had
closed the door, but it didn't belong to
him With her name upon it, it certain
" belonged to her. But ought she read
it? Ought she2 Well, she didn't care
she must 1t was hers, after all. Tear
ing it open. she saw the tender superscrip-
ton and all her scruples vanished like
the wind Then she read it to end and
kissed it many times, and walking up
and down, longed, yet hesitated, to go
back into the darkened chamber.
Geraldson lay awake without any de-
sire to take up the thread of life again.
All his difficulties pressed upon him, ard
he felt listless and dispirited in his gloomy
room. But soft sound, the drawing of
the blind. the flooding of the room with
sunshine, caused him to turn with faint
revival of interest. The light was the
light of sunset, just bright enough to
make everything clear. and some one
with shining hair was standing near Il e
window Surely he knew that poise of
the head. Only one woman carried her
head Just like that. And yet he must be
dreaming,
"Who are YOU" he cried eagerly.
A clear voice came through the still
ness. 1--WE brought an answer to your
letter"
My letter to her? But it wasn't ad-
dressed 1t wasn't"
There want any need to send it. You
see, Elsie Vining isn't in Boston just
now"
Not in Boston! Then where is she:
Where is she?"
Size came toward him. He saw her IN
the level sunlight as men see visions.
Don't you understand, Gerald? Don't
YOU understand"
1t was her voice. He raised himself on
tie pillows.
Elsie. Elsie" he cried.
She dropped on her knees beside him.
She gave him her hands and her face.