Waterbury evening Democrat., 1906-06-06

Wearily the two climbed from the boat and walked with laggard step the forest way to the clearing above.
 To their surprise, the cabin was light ed, and the household astir. As their steps sounded on the gravel path, Amer ica came to the door, her bony fig ure framed against the candle-lit wall.
 "Fo' Gawd's sake! Whar y'all been? Come quick. yo' ma"
 Lavender rushed past the trembling servant into the room.
 On his knees by the bed whereon her mother lay in stupor, knelt her father, and all the rebellion of this young, un- tanned soul rose in revolt against his prayer. She heard the words: Strength to bear it!" Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me-" and an guish contended with a fierce, unreason- ing anger.
 Father, father" she cried. Do some thing! Don't pray for comfort, if she dies! She shall not die!'
 Turning to Gerald, who stood by in mute distress. she sent him for the doc tor. "The one on the St. Louis road he who was once preacher. Quick!"
 She rubbed the limp, cold hands with all the vigor of her passionate youth. She tried to rouse the sinking woman with tempest of words; words of en- dearment, of pleading, of fond chiding.
 America, tears throwing the brow of her drawn face. whispered: She's been out n her head all night, honey, and now 1t pears like she don know nothin'. Yer pa an me, we done all we could, but 'peared like it warn't no uset."
 That is where you are wrong, Amer lea; it is always use to have hope; it is wrong to give up and pray, instead of fight" Then, as she saw the old woman's look of shocked reproach, she added, more softly: "Or if you pray, pray for help, not comfort
 She stroked her fathers head, tender ly. Forgive me. Dad, I don't know what I'm saying My mind is whirl, and only one thought stands out in the maze. Mother must not-must not leave us. We couldn't bear that, could we, Dad?" For a moment her spirit gave way, and she cried miserably on her fathers shoulder
 Then, rallying quickly: Go to bed, now, and trust to America and me. The doctor and Gerald will come soon."
 Crushed and worn with the night of watching, MT. Creighton staggered out of doors to the stairway that led above. But first he stopped over the bed to kiss the unresponsive lips. A faint sigh was his reward.
 See, Lavender, good sign. Perhaps you have brought her out of the valley, my brave child"
 The. sun was high when Gerald re- turned with the doctor. .<' When Lavender went to greet them, the light dazzled her. and she stag gered as she led the way to the sick room.
 When, later, she followed the doctor out to where the pony waited, and asked his opinion timidly, he said: "The case is grave one, but there is no sense in giving up. The fever is what the people here call the season. ing and is apt to follow the change to this climate. Your mother was in the swamp-lands, too, understand, near the Mississippi, and that was bad for her. Her case is unusually severe, but with care she may recover at least, enough to bear the journey home"
 Lavender started at the unexpected turn of the sentence. "'The journey homer" she echoed, in amazement.
 Yes, back east, back to her old home. am sure this climate will never agree with her. She may re- cover temporarily from this attack, sufficiently to bear the trip home. That. in my judgment, is the best you can expect"
 Then he took his leave. saying he would call again. and often until we pull her through" he said, encour- agingly.
 Returning. Lavender found America at the bedside.
 You lay down, and git some res, honey. I'll watch yer ma."
 But 1t was long before the teeming brain could find relief ip sleep. The hours of the past night were torture to be lived over again with each closing of the burning eye lids. She saw again the litter borne in the alley of smoking brands, she heard the sick mans moans, saw his face. deathly white. on the blood stained pillow. And then the scene would change, and the white. drawn face. deathly white, on the blood. her mothers. And accompanying all was the refrain of the doctors words: Home. you must take her home.'
 "Home?" How? The question sounded a hopeless echo in her ears, as she sank to sleep.
 CHAPTER XVII |.
 Circumstances seemed conspiring to favor the suit of GonZaga. Held a close prisoner at her mothers bedside.