Bonners Ferry herald. [volume] (Bonners Ferry, Idaho) 1904-current, 1905-04-15
CHAPTER Kill

more becoming. But with all my pains
| cut but a very sorry figure.
Dear me, how spruce you look thii
morningl" said Martha, as l came down
to breakfast And quite elated, toor'
Before 10 o'clock ! was In the neigh
borhood of her house. Ii was too early
to go there YET so l fingered about fol
time. How very awkward 1t was that
| had no knowledge OF her name. l had
quite forgotten to ask II. AS the time
drew near / began TO feel nervous. A
church clock struck eleven as | timidly
knocked at the door. was answered by
stout, good tempered looking old lady
You have a young lady staying here,
began, In hesitating tone.
"Oh, you are the young man that Miss
Clara expects, suppose" Saying which,
the old lady deliberately drew pair
Of spectacles out of her pocket, and ad-
justing them, carefully scrutinized me.
Ny 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 wafer
colored drawings, some finished. some un-
nrished; also some Berlin wool work.
Bouquets of flowers were everywhere
upon the table amidst the work, upon the
mnntelpiece 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
Few moments the door opened and
Clara came into the room.
You have come, then" she said, with
her sweet, melancholy smile.
As IL 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 colcrs.
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 l 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.
80 utterly free from human passions.
The fair wavy hair untrammeled by
art; the oval face, neither full nor thin,
but perfectly smooth; the low forehead
the blue eyes; the straight Greclan nose
the small mouth; the swelling, gracefully
arched neck; the skin so delicately VIII te,
tinted upon the cheeks with the faintest
carnation. Her figure was of about the
middle height exquisitely graceful, yet
painfully fragile. She wore black
dress. made high to the neck, with a
small plofn xrhffa COLLAR
We talked very little; she was too busy
with her work, and silence was more
congenlal with our mood.
At o'clock Mrs. Wilson called us to
dinner. which we took in a breakfast
parlor below. The old lady was very
chatty and very curious and asked me
great number OF indirect questions
those l did not care to answer | CON
trived 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 l 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 qnite
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 &C.
qunintance who was coming to see her;
that he had come to the city in search Of
employment, and had no friends nor ac-
quaintances, and was so dreadfully mis-
cradle that 1t made her quite unhappy
to see him. At first, | set my face
against il, but she soon coaxed me over.
and / compromised the matter by saying
that you should come this once, but that
II did not approve Of you, it was to be
the first and the last visit. But | must
say you seem a very nice, quiet, modest
sort OF young gentleman. And what kind
Of employment might you be seeking?"
told her had been usher at a school,
but that al present was doing copy ing.
| did not say OF what kind. The old
lady remarked that an. usher's was q
very genteel sort OF employment. Alto
gether she seemed very well 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 near
the window; Mrs. Wilson chatting. | and
Clara silent. She gazing into the street.
with that absent look so common to her:
l watching every motion OF her face, as
II grew more and more indistinct In the
deepening shadows. Lights were brought,
and then we went down to supper, and
then 1t was time to go.
"You will come and see me again.
won't your" she said, as she gave me her
hand at the gate.
| wanted no pressing, and arranged
that l would come again on Monday. She
wished me good night. and went in and
closed the door. and the day was ended
the day whose blissful memories will
never fade from my heart
That day was the precursor OF many
like ones. until, in a short time, | could
perceive that she looked forward TO nv
coming with expectancy, and that my
presence had become a thing almost nee
essary to her. She looked for me TO hand
her the painting materials, to grind the
colors. to select her skeins OF wool. 10
sit at her feet and read to her some
pleasant book; while, between the lights,
she would sit at the piano and inlpro-
wise strange, weird, plaintive melodies.
IL was a strange communion, ours. In
II we lived only in the present moment
We never spoke of a past or Of a fu-
ture. for we wished to be happy; and
to both. the past was hideous. the fu.
turs Ominous. Thus | knew nothing OF
her past life, nor did wish to know
Like her, did not wish the happiness
OF the present to be marred by one pain
full image.
She had lived with Mrs. Wilson above