The Central Nevadan. [volume] (Battle Mountain, Nev.) 1885-1907, 1905-08-03

when you have thought the matter
over more calmly you may possibly
have something to say to me. give
you ono week to reconsider.-
His mastery Of himself. his unJ!eld-
Ing resistance to her, thrilled her
through and through. Never had she
loved him 50 absolutely, but there was
no trace OF her feeling in her mex king
reply.
"a weeks grace! So good Of your
she laughed rather wildly. "And yet.
do Jon know, 1t is seven days more than
I shall need. shall never
But he had gone. A moment later shu
beard the street door close with IA ON,
inous bang. She stood stupidly In the
middle Of the room trying to realize
that there was no futurc--notlfing but
q dreary waste that beiied the name
ahead OF her. Then she looked at her
left hand, row so bare. 50 naked. no
longer hand consccrate, but simply
woman's hand shorn Of all Its sweet
significance, its badge of dear depend.
crce gone.
A clock struck the hour in silver
tones. fetching her back to the dull
present. Oh, yes. Mrs. Colin Stuart's
ten. She must go to that whatever hap
pened; she must go to everything and be
gay, gay, gay! Otherwise people would
cay that she cared. He might even
think that size did. The thought made
her cheeks burn. And gay she was, so
gay indeed that more than one Of her
friends turned long. inquiring looks up
on her. looks full OF puzzled questioning.
Once during the week Of respite she
met him, but at bis cold. inipassiye
greeting the little choking gladness that
the sight of him had brought and which
for fleeting second shook her with its
expectancy fiickered out. He had bow
ed with cold courtesy-and passed on.
But one thought stood out clearly In
the genera, confusion Of her despair.
She must get away. Piteously she real
lied that she must not run the risk of
constant meetings. The Branhams were
sailing on Saturday. Why not 60 with
them?
At the thought she started up, her
blood whirling through her veins In
tho old fashion. That would be tit for
tat. On her last day Of respite ho
should see her name on the list of out
going passengers. Then perhaps he
would regret that he had passed her
with nothing but a pcrfu. ctory lifting
OF the hat. A lively ringing of tele-
phone bells. scurrying back and
forth of passengers. and the thing was
accomplished.
1t was Friday night. Her trunks
had gone to the pier, ard In her dis
mantled room she battled with the
lassitrdc that follows q whirl CT feel.
ing. She waa dull. erotionless. ex'
hausted. Tho quarrel. her flight. life
itself. had ceased TO matter. and she
dropped into chair. 1t was then that
her eyes fell upon the sampler.
Tie small notified square Of brown
canvas, with It's fading letters, had in
some way escaped her attention until
nov and re.paincd pinned against the
wall. For an appreciable time she
stared at its alphabet and figures. its
stiff tree. its asst onishingiy alert birds
aud at last at the Inscription that al
ways held rensive interest for her
Amy Castle. aged eight years. 120s.'
More than once she had dreamed oi
that name. Who was Amy Castle
The sampler had been found in ches1
of inherited stuff, and no one could
recall the owner. Tho small hands thai
bad Wrought those bedlnmed figure.
were now dust, but what had come tt
them before the last resigned folding
Had Amy. too, loved and suffered ant
lost? Had her woman's pride smiled
out ON the world from face drawn
with pain? Tragedy or comedy, i
mattered little now. All that remain
ed of her passing was this small, mot
tied sampler. This was what It al
came TO in the end-this--
With n swift. eloquent gesture shs
arose and literally few along the cor
ridor to the telephone. "Quick, Cen
tral. quickw she was urging a momcn
later. "It's--it's a matter Of life ant
death!'
But ali she could say when she go
her number was broken "0h, Don
alifs
J. The Danger.
ri "a otrt0rxSnf,flf