The morning Astorian. [volume] (Astoria, Oregon) 1899-1930, 1907-08-25

ist, died in st, Luke's Hospital here TO.
day after protracted illness,
The last moments of Miss Magruder's
life were cheered by the knowledge that
word had just been received from Paris
that the French Academy had conferred
on her the oreder Of Palms, This hon
or is much coveted by authors, and Is
held by only few in this country
Associated Press Dispatch.
| An oppressive silence hung over the
breakfast table OF the late Captain Ar
thur Winchester, U, :. A. His young
daughter, tail and straight in her simple
BLACK mourning frock, glanced out
Through the window watching for the
larrival OF the mail. Her stepmother,
but little older than herself, also watch
ed for the same thing in trepidation and
nerye.racking anxiety
at seems strange to me-" said the
lgirl at last, that father should have
stipulated in his will that you and l
were to remain together until / happen
to marry After all, We have known
each other such short time!"
He had to put something in his will y
The voice OF the older woman was queru.
lous and self pitying as she went on,
And there didn't seem to be much else
to talk about
Elizabeth looked up calmly, "your lit
tie incomes' she suggested.
1t was quite plain from the tiny move.
ment Of the widows shoulders in answer
to this that the material provision OF
the late Captain Winchester was not
even worth good healthy shrug The
next moment she leaned over the table
toward the girl.
Elizabeth. when did you hear from
Heron Kirke!"
| Mrs. Winchester was repentant the
next moment that she had asked the
question. She hated and feared Eliza.
beth's steady, cold eyes, her determined
voice, and the calm uubending of her
twenty'one years.
mot for some time" answered the
girl, "as think you know
If Mrs. Winchester ever prayed, she
probably offered up a startled petition
then that the mail would hold no let
ter for Elizabeth from the man whose
silence had failed to shake her trust
in him, but almost on the heels OF her
words, like the william in the play, who
always appears at the wrong moment,
the maid brought two letters in the same
handwriting, one for herself and one for
Elizabeth. They were from Kirke.
How the next few moments passed the
weak little woman never knew. AT
length she felt that she must raise her
igaihy eyes to her stepdaughter and beg
for mercy. She knew that no equivo.
cation was possible. Suddenly the RI.
theri long letter addressed to Elizabeth
was thrust before her eyes. and the
young voice that she had come to dread
was saying to her;
Read that and tell me what part
You had in it. Why should he write to
US bothi"
Elizabeth" she began, the pages trem.
bling in her fingers, elizabeth, IL"
The struggling words Of extenuation
trailed off indistinctly. The girl had
turned aside to the window, and there
was nothing to do but read the letter
thst she had prompted Heron Kirke to
send to Elizabeth. 1t was an explicit
proposal of marriage earnest enough to
have satisfied any woman.
As the pages ceased to rustic, the girl
faced her stepmother with burning eyes.
"And your letter--what did he say
to youi" She made a little movement
toward the table.
"No, nor cried the widow crushing
her own note in her hand. Elizabeth,
you're wildl l had nothing to do with
this. l."
Elizabeth's quick laugh stopped her.
"You need go no further she said.
Elizabeth, you must listen" The in.
competent hands of Mrs. Winchester
clutched at the girls frock as the latter
started from the room. In a tense
way she went over the mis-.
cradle little story: The coming of
Heron Kirke into the girls life, the pos.
ition that Elizabeth had given him in
her confidence and faith, the silent un-
derstanding that had evidently been
reached before he had gone away-and
then his long silence.
"Pleass move away from the door,"
said the stepdaughter II know all that"
"But you don't know the rest" sobbed
Mrs. Winchester. "He left you without
a word to hold him, without pledge for
your future. Oh, I have my obliga.
tions. I'm your step. .mother--I must do
my duty for your fathers sake. The
man had to be spoken to, Oh, Eliza
beth, don't you see, don't you understand
how poor we are, why my income is
hardly enough for one!'
"I'll never touch cent Of it," ex-
claimed the girl.
"And you, you're not able to earn
your own living. Why, what could you
do? Don't you see that you must mar
ryf' But the girl evidently did not see.