Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1906-01-13


you have. The men were receiving good
| wages-as high as any other manufacturer
| in the same line gives, and that Is enough"
mo, Robert, that Is not enough" the low
calm voice, even almost to monotony, was
Neal Borden's. II made very careful esti-
mates, and found that we could easily pay
higher wages-the business would still pay
But you didn't make these careful esti-
mates" sneeringly until the men had
been to you with their complaints and
threats. You We're afraid-afraid of a strike,
and the loss 1t would entail, and you backed
down, like the coward that you are!'
There was the fighting blood of sire and
grandsire in Jeans delicate veins-the Mac
kenzle fire famed into her beautiful eyes,
and she clenched her slender hands In hot
indignation. Would Neal Borden endure
thistle taunts, the insolence. She leaned
excftedly forward to catch the slightest
word.
Eve won't discuss the matter, Robert"
his voice was actually soothing and concil-
iatory Il have done what l thought best,
| and, more sternly, what l have done,
stands!'
The younger man broke forth with added
fury, and Jean. shocked and Inundated
covered her ears with her hands. With
curious restrospection her mind reverted to
| Waldo Carew, the freckled victim of Jimmy
Dunn's lighting propensities, and to her
quick imagination the poisoning trees in
the orchard became great pink and white
gumdrops, and the great Borden estate was
held out to her & bride which she re-
garded now as little as she had the tribute
OF her primary school days.
He's afraid to hit back" she murmured
scornfully, quoting her childish dictum,
land he, too, is coward"
The sound of angry footsteps and the loud
clang of the outer door reached her muff1ed
ears. She parted the draperies and looked
out Neal Borden was standing in the mid
die of the hall his arms held stiffiy by his
side his broad chest heaving, his whole at
utude, had she but read Ii Alright, a, protest
against the silence and self-control to which
he had forced himself.
She stepped quickly down from the win
dow seat and approached him, her slender
young form held superbly erect and her
eyes glowing.
His was a heavy face, not handsome,
with an habitual expression of seriousness,
but it lightened almost into beauty as he
held out his hand to the girl he loved.
She invountarily drew back even as she
placed in his outstretched hand the little
seal ring. His fingers closed over 1t in
stinctively and his face grew white, but he
did not speak.
II was there" gasped Jean. chokingly.
sin the ingle-nook. L heard everything-I
can never
do not try to explain. little Jean" he
said, gently. 81 understand am dis
miSsed-dismiSSed for cowardice---
No one knew how it happened No one
claimed to have given the alarm. When
it was all over no one could tell who first
saw the flames and smoke bursting from
the stables. No one could recall who it
was who screamed out that the coachmans
little girl was asleep in her crib in the
rooms above but every one saw Neal Bor-
denis wild dash through the leaping flames
and rolling smoke.
No one who heard them ever forget
the piercing shreks of the child's mother
as the horrible seconds went by and he did
not appear. Then other women screamed
and one tainted and fell, a limp, helpless
heap, beside Jean Mackenzie, who stood
straight and still and white with strained
fhn Ind
Then came a great black blur in the midst
of the sitting smoke, and a body shot
through the lurid air and struck the ground
The child was unhurt. Borden's big silk
handkerchief, wet, was tied over her head
and the baby rolled in the scorched cradle
blanket.
The man? Hours afterward one of the
under surgeons reported to the waiting,
anxious women: Ankle broken-dreadful
fracture-and his hip and shoulder shat
tered. You see, he fell on one side, holding
the child away from the ground the way
he did. And his eyes-we-we fear they're
e"-chokingly-'the flames. you know
He's just one mass of splints and casts and
bandages.
The dumb, stricken silence that followed
broken by a long, shiyering sigh as
piteous sob.
JEAN" whispered Mrs. Mackenzie, shak-
ing the girls arm, Jean, don't look SO!
Come with me to my room. DR.. Cabot may
be misunderstanding Jean before her, in
eyes. He may have misunderstood"
mo he speaks the truth"-in hoarse,
changed voice. Meal will die-and II
have killed him.
Two days later Jean reused herself from
the torpor in which she had remained since
the fire, conscious of unusual stir about
the house, and that her grandmother was
standing by the window, sobbing in unre-
strained grief. With quick apprehension
Jean sprang to her side.
What is it, grandmother, is Neal
but the question died upon her lips as she
saw the long line of carriages, the black
plumed hearse and Mrs Bordens Grape
robed figure. Her slender body swayed,
and she would have fallen but for Mrs.
MacKenzie's quick grasp upon her arm.
mo, no, it is not Neal, it is Robert
could not tell you it was all so dreadful.
He was found dead after the fire. He has
been subject to heart trouble for years, but
to Neal alone did the physicians reveal what
they had recently discovered-that the boys
life hung by so slender a thread that he
must be guarded with the utmost care
and kept from all excitement. OF course,
no one could foresee the fire, or prevent
his being there. That is all, Jean dear; lie
down again and rest"
That was all. What passed in Jean Mac
Kennels mnd-her instant understanding
of Neal Borden'S tolerance of his cousins
insults, her ESTABLISHMENT at the remem-
brance of her injustice, her grief and re-
morse, her realization that she had loved
him since their first meeting-no one knew
but the girl herself.
She recalled the dying words of the brave
old man, whose memory she so revered,
with sorrowful comprehension of their
truth: There is bravery other than that
called forth by war"
1t was two weeks later when she saw
Neal. He was, in truth. a mass of splints
and casts and bandages. How could such
strength and vitality-such Astounding
health GO out so suddenly and leave so
poor wreck?
She crept softly into the darkened room,
pale, heavy-eyed shaking.
rs it you, little Jean? That's right with
a brave attempt at cheerfulness. Come in
and view the ruins. | may remind you of
patchwork just now, but III be all right,
yet
She sank on her knees besides the bed,
and he could feel the trembling of her
slight body against his side.
II have brought you-something. Neal"
What is it, Jean?" gently, feeling about
the coverlet with his one free hand.
THE ring that you lost that day found
it-I-have worn 1t ever since"
And you don't want it any more?'
family
'I-oh, 1 want it all the time" in muf-
fed voice.
But you said-you said" fearfully.