The Spokane press. [volume] (Spokane, Wash.) 1902-1939, 1908-02-19
DAILY SHORT
STORY
FOR HIS SAKE

People in Edhamville were rath-
er curious about Mrs. Courtney.
Why such pale, sad eyed little
| woman should spend so much time
| earning and making gorgeous
clothes which she never wore in
the village was a little beyond
them.
All the year round Mrs. Court |
ney worked in the dry goods store
as one of the salesladies. AL
though she was very gentle and
very gracious, there was always a
faint reserve and dignity about
her through which no one could
penetrate. And always there was
the faraway shadow of sadness in
| her eyes.
| And what beats me-" said old
Mrs. Poplam, the village gossip,
didn't l drop in there Wednesday
night after prayer meeting, and
wasn't she sewing away on the
SWEETEST silk dress I ever laid eyes
on. 1t looks mighty queer. Has
anyone around here ever seen her
wear them?"
There was a hint of frost in the
air and the sun was dying in the
west one night late in October,
when Mrs. Courtney hurried in at
her gate. 1t had been hard day
at the store. Yet, with feverish
eagerness, without taking the time
to prepare her usual plain little
meal, she set to work on some
! ria1 oh 70
hauled forth from the dresser
drawer.
Because they mustn't be mere
ly nice clothes, dear" she whis-
pered to herself. They must be
lovely, extravagant; the kind of
clothes a woman who has every
thing would wear. If they weren't
the very finest you would be sure
to suspect. They must be just as
lovely as the ones | had before
before"
Needless of the costly stuff she
held in her lap, the woman buried
her face in it with a heartbreak-
ing sob.
The next day, unconscious of
the surprised stares of the viii
layers, she took train for the
north. A big trunk, bearing all
the fine clothes, went with her.
After riding all day she arrived
at a big city. Here she fastened
at once to a hotel. When she
emerged from her room she was
woman who had entered it to
blooming beauty. A skillful maid,
a hair dresser and the sumptuous
clothes had made of her again the
woman she used to be.
'To he-penitentiary, was the
quick order she gave the hack
driver.
The gray haired warden was
used to admitting women visitors.
He looked approvingly after Mrs.
Courtney. This was the third
year the pretty, we'll dressed wom-
an had come to see No. 2020, in
other words James Courtney, do
ing" 20 years for forgery.
In the cold, grim little stone
chamber Mrs. Courtney waited. She
could scarcely breathe for the
pounding of her heart. She closed
both eyes and held her hands to
her breast tot quiet it. Then she
[ was conscious of step In the cor
ridor. There was low cry:
"Maida!"
1t was his voice, the voice she
had hungered for through the bar
rem, pitiless year. 1t was all gone,
2 the heartache and the torture. And
she was here, safe once more in
the encircling shelter of his dear
} arms Through the dazed blur of
tumult in her brain her hands stole
to his face, tenderly caressing each
sunken feature.
p What? Bring tears and signs to
, this one hour of the year? Leave
I only an added memory of sorrow
and pain to this man whose whole
existence was now but gray
shadow?
} So she laughed and was gay
1 though her heart was breaking. II
was all part with the lovely, eX
travagant clothes, the clothes he
would remember with happiness
i. when she was gone.
n "And jim, dear" she was saying
81 have such a fine, paying posi-
;. ton. Just enough light work tt
# keep me from being idle and get
n. ting too lonely without you"
II The brave little voice broke for
,r moment, but when she raised he
h face from his shoulder she was
= smiling through her tears.
"a Sorry, madam, but times up
- said the guard, respectfully.
~ The big gates Changed behinC
them. jim stood silent, straininl
h his ears to catch the last brave
n silken rustic of her skirts. Whel
~ he turned his face again TOWARD
~ the dark and gloomy corridor h
- held his head high and there wa
-, ,,p,uOptod 1iobt in his ewes