Camas Prairie chronicle. [volume] (Cottonwood, Idaho) 1901-1917, 1907-02-08

Il confess do" he acknowledged.
Cannot Brice do anything better for
your
No one can in this world" she gently
said. '"The last days here must come for
US all, and they are upon me. All, my
dear, If we, all of US, can but be prepared
for them. You see 1 talk to you with the
familiarity of old days" she concluded. a
smile upon her wan face.
Il hope you will never talk to me in
any other way" he said, with earnest i'm
pulse. do you remember how you used
to lecture me, Henry, will not have
you do this'-'Henry, you must do the
other! Why, you know you were as good
to me as a mother"
II like to sit and think Of the days
gone BY" she said, land 1 very often
think Of you. When we old people are
no longer able to employ our time at use
full work, we find occupation in recalling
the past; great pleasure lies in it."
'YOu are not quite old, dear Mrs.
Dane"
Il am not quite fifty yet, my dear, but
l am old in one sense-that l am close
upon the end of life. Those who are so
may surely be called old. estimating age
you see, by the duration Of their time
here And, do you know" she added, in
low, loving tones, that when we reach
this stage, we almost long for the final
change-for the better, brighter life
which Is waiting for u.s."
But you must have regrets" said
Lord Avon.
"True. All must have them in a de-
| frrnn Va h,1,, 4, l.
world, the only home we have known. 1t
has not been all sunshine; rather, per-
haps one Of storm yet we know its best
and its worst, and we are entering one
which we do not know, and so there must
always lie within us a half wish to stay
here longer. And then-and then"
Mrs. Danes voice sank to a whisper.
She paused.
"And then" he softly whispered.
And then Gods loving presence re-
sumes its sway within us with all it's re-
assuring comfort, and regrets are lost in
a glow of happiness. May it be with
you, my dear, when your own turn shall
come p
Lord Avon swallowed down a lump in
his throat. Mrs. Danes hand was still
in his; he pressed it gratefully, and there
ensued a silence.
1T must seem hard to you, though, to
leave your children here"
Yes, especially Edith. l have not
seen much Of Charlotte since her mar
riage; she is coming down now to stay a
week or two Edith is married also. I
feel anxious about Edith. cannot helm
fearing that she is not strong; that If
the battle of life should prove fierce, she
will not be able to breast it. She is ly-
ing down now. Their income Is small.
and they have no residence, as we had"
Let me say word to you, dear Mrs.
Dane" he interrupted; I used to bring
my secrets to you In the days of yore.
DO you remember one In particular? A
boy got into the pond of Great Wilton.
and was nearly drowned, and had the
credit of having pushed him in, and was
punished for 1t by Mr.. Dane"
Il remember 1t we'll, Henry" she said.
calling him unconsciously by the old IA
miliar name. ut was Jack Whitaker. +"
Just so. Every one fell upon nv de-
voted head, reproaching me with being a
wicked and cruel youngster, safe to come
to bad end. / took their abuse Quietly.
and took Mr.. Danes punishment
fearful task of Greek which to me was
punishment In earnest; and when the
thing was all over and done, l whispered
the truth to you one day in your dress
Ing room, as you were sewing I'D a rent
which l had torn in my jacket sleeve
| that 1t was not l who had thrown Whit
taker into the pond. Did you believe
meY
Yes, my dear, l did believe you to me
you were ever truthful. You would not
tell me who 1t was that threw him in.
though; recollect that"
I'll tell you now. 1t was Jack him
self. He had been at some mischief at
Mr.. Chester's; stealing the apricots. I
believe; and he was getting away when
he heard a hue and cry behind him. In
his terror, for Whitaker was an arrant
coward. he dashed to the side of the
pond, meaning to hide himself among the
PUSHES; missing his footing, he dashed
right into it. | was standing by and
saw the process. After ALL the noise was
not In pursuit of him, but of bull which
had got loose from Farmer Ulthorn's
field"
why did you take the punishmentF"
when he foundered out, like drown
ed rat, l helping him, he begged and
implored me not to say that he had Jump
ed in. gave him my word would not
That's how it was. Well, you believed
me then, dear Mrs. Dane, and know you
will believe me now. You have blamed
me in your heart for promising Great
Wilton to Mr.. Baumgarten, and then
annulling it by bestOwing it elsewhere, but
the fault did not lie with me-"
mo! With Lady Avon, perhaps"
"No, no, no; she wished Mr.. Baum
garten to have it. The whole affair was
the result Of an unfortunate mistake. 1
committed 1t. but in unconscious error.
which and my mother alike regret.