The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1913-06-06
CHAPTER XIl.-(Continued.)

inick's marriage difficulties, ana cannon
suggests buying off Berry.
CHAPTER XIi.-(Continued.)
There was something strange about
Dominick since he had come back,
something that intrigued her, that she
could not satisfactorily explain. She
assured herself that he was still angry,
but in the deeper places of her under
standing tie voice that whispers the
truth and viii not be gainsaid told her
it was not that Neither was 1t ex-
actly antagonism. In a way he had
been studiously kind and polite to her,
a sort of consciously-guarded polite
ness, such as one might practice to a
guest with whom one was intimate
without being friendly. She tried to
explain to herself just what this
change was, and when it came to put
ting the matter in words she could
not find the right ones. 1t was cold
ness, GOODNESS that was not harsh
and did not express itself in actions or
phrases. 1t was deeper; it was ex-
hailed from the inner places Of his be-
ing.
Sometimes as she talked to him she
would meet his eyes fixed on her with
a deep, vacant glance, which she sud
denly realized was unseeing and I'M
needing. In the evening as he sat
reading in the cramped confines of
the den she surreptitiously watched
him and saw that moment often
came when he dropped his book, and
with his long body limp in the arm
chair, his chin sunk on his breast,
would sit with a brooding gaze fixed
on nothing. Once, as he was dream
ing this way, she said suddenly:
What are you thinking of. Domi-
nick? Antelope?"
He started and turned upon her a
face that had redeemed consciously.
why should l think of Antelope?"
he said. and she was aware that her
remark had startled him and made
him uncomfortable.
For no particular reason" she an
swered lightly; you just looked as if
you were thinking of something long
way Off"
She tried TO reassure herself that it
all rose from the quarrel. To believe
that comforted her and gave her con-
fidence, but it was hard to think 1t,
for not. only did her own instinct pro-
claim against it, but Dominick's man
ner and attitude were in distinct refu-
tation of any such theory. He was
not sullen, he was absent; he was not
resentful. he was Indifferent. And in
small outward ways he tried to please
her, which was not after the manner
of a sore and angry man. On this
very Sunday he had agreed to meet
her and her family in the park at the
band stand at four. She always dined
with her sisters on Sunday and if
the weather was fine they went to the
park and listened to the music. 1t
was nearly year now since Dominick
had joined these family parties, pre-
ferring to walk on the Preside hills
and the Cliff House beach with
friend from the bank. But on the eve
ming before he had promised to meet
them; been quite agreeable about it,
Berry had thought, when her plead
ings and opportunities had finally ex-
torted from him a promise to join
them there.
She left the dining room and walked
up the hallway to the parlor her head
dropped, anXieties gnawing at her.
The little room was flooded with sun
shine, and she parted the lace cur
tains and, throwing up the window,
leaned out. The rich, enveloping
warmth surrounded her, clasped her.
seemed to sink deep into her and
thaw her apprehensions that were so
cold at her heart She drew in the
sweet, still air, that did not stimulate
but that had in it something Of a
crystalline youth and freshness, like
the air of an untainted world, con-
cerned with nothing but the Joy of
living. The scents of flowers were in
it; the mellowness of the earth and its
fruits. Peace was the message of this
tranquil Sunday morning, peace was
in the sunshine, in the sound of bells
with which the air was full, in the
fall of feet-light, joyous feet-on the
pavement, in the voices of passers-by
and the laughter, sweet and broken,
of children. 1t was not right for any
one to harbor cankering cares on such
a day. The earth was happy, aban-
doned to the sunshine, irresponsible,
care free, rejoicing in the perfect mo-
ment The woman felt the restoring
processes that Nature, in its, tireless
generosity, offers to all who will take
them. She felt eased of her troubles,
soothed and cheered, as though the en-
wrapping radiance that bathed her
held an opiate for tangled nerves.
Blinking in the brightness she leaned
on the window-sill, immovabie. quieted,
feeling the warmth suffuse her and
dissipate those alarms that half an
hour earlier had been so chill and
heavy.
As she dressed, the sense Of wellbe-