The Daily Ardmoreite. [volume] (Ardmore, Okla.) 1893-current, 1910-11-30

silent, and Tanta went on. Sh
hal a feeling that her little stor
might point a moral.
There amt much to tel, ant
what there is don't hurt now," sh,
said, readily. You see, was sci
fish, like most young girls; ant
he was a man working hard to Sc
us up on a Free State farm. II,
rode transport and was away fol
weeks and months. | had baby
girl, a wee mite, and him being away
so much / s'pose | loved her al
the harder. But she was weak, an
died when she was three years old
And ! think | must have gone crazy
for awhile. He came home, and
told him he'd killed it by being
away and not helping me look after
her. | got savage and brooded. He
just said nothing and went on with
his work. But | got that bad tenn
pered he stayed away a heap; long
er and longer; not but what | drove
him 10 it, for he was a good man
although he had his limits when
was in my tantrums. Then | mem
Der he was up-country trading Hell
been gone nigh on twelve months
an one day a stranger came in to
Leyburg, which was our home, and
he brought my mans wagons with
him. Piet, my husband, had took
malaria and died. Then, after I'd
been i'll awhile, ] got round to my
senses. ! knew then how I'd really
loved my man, an that my baby
girl wasn't nowhere compared. Well,
it's years gone now," she added with
a sigh, "anll it's just one of those
things that it's not good to worrit
over, cos it can't be changed. It's
the things that can-"
The old woman broke off. Foot
steps were coming down the pass
age.
The master" she whispered in
an awed fashion.
Don't CO." Mary said, as the 9th
er rose from her seat and picked up
her work basket. She felt that she
would have liked to talk to her
old nurse about her married life,
to read deeper into her poor little
story than the bare outlines she
hail just heard. But Tanta had a
decided opinion on the matter of
duty. AS Ferman entered She moved
to depart, while Mary deliberately
turned away to the window. She
had no particular interest in the
Kaffir ami his dog. She had no
great desire to stare out into the
blazing light of Africas noon, nor
to gaze upon that vast wave OF
land that mounted up on the far
side of he river to the horizon be
yond. 1t was all so bald, so uncouth,
so much like her life. Scorched,
arid, it was a scene of colorless
grass and disheartening, hopeless
neutral-tinted bush.
She welcomed her husbands com
ing, yet she dreaded it, Ever since
the beginning of her convalescence
she had esranged mis- regard. Six
knowing why. Deep down in her
heart there was the conviction that
she haj estranged hsi regard Six
months ago she would not have
minded that; she did not admit
that she minded it now. Only some
he; she dreaded what he might
say His quiet words could hurt so;
and he had such an uncompromis-
ing way. The recollection of the
scene when she was taken III. when.
in her weakness, she had told him
about Guy, was always with her;
an the memory OF it was a black
shadow in her mind. She would new
ar forget the way he told her he
lid not blame her
Since her recovery his manner
lad changed towards her. The stea-
lad not changed. No, it was not
hat. But he avoided her, coming
,nly TO see her when it was obvi-
,usly his duty. Did he hate her?
She fe,t he must-and yet she had
lone him no wrong. 1t was all very
lard. She told herself for the hun