The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1914-04-03
The Man, the Mission
and the Maid
BY George Randolph Chester
Copyright by the Mcclure Newspaper syndicate)


Miss Blanchard ran down to the gate
and he handed her a large, fat, square,
cream-tinged envelope. Mr.. Gilman
had followed her.
Have you anything for me?" he
asked the mailman. Mr.. Hatred
Joyce Gilman"
The mailman looked UP with a
start.
why. hello, Harry" he cried heart
lily and held out his hand. Il didn't
recognize you. How you have grown"
Mr.. Hatred Joyce Gilman was too
dignified to vince.
There's scarcely any change in you,
Mr. Powell" he said with lofty gra-
ciousness. The years treat you very
kindly. indeed"
Getting gray-gray at rat And
the mailman jerked off his hat a mo-
ment. Let me see. You asked about
a letter. / got one here, but l hadn't
any idea that Hatred Joyce Gilman
could be you
The letter he hunted out was a
long, legal envelope. 1t bore, printed
in one corner, the address of the Tene-
ment House Sunshine league Mr.
Gilman took it with reverence, while
the deep frown of concentration
creased his brow.
Il shall have to ask you to excuse
me" he said briskly to Miss Blanch-
ard. Il have been waiting with some
anxiety for this delayed communica-
ton. 1t is-well-the call of duty"
He glanced at the fat envelope. You
too. will be naturally anxious to see
what Uncle Sam has brought you"
Il know beforehand she said.
These envelopes bring me no sur
prises. They are my only rays of sun
shine
He smiled sadly and shook his head
and undoubtedly to humanity and if
he ever married at all it would be to
some good woman who could aid him
in his settlement work; even then only
if he was convinced that they could
do more together than they could sep
arately.
You must come over often" invited
Miss Blanchard. Il am interested in
your work.
II should be glad indeed if could
interest you seriously in it," he as
sured her II shall consider it my
duty to do so if l can"
In the pursuit OF this duty he came
over nearly every day and most of the
evenings. Miss Blanchard did not go
out much. The fat, square. cream
tinted envelopes kept her at home;
made her refuse many invitations that
she might have been glad to accept
had she been the unsettled, frivolous
girl she used to be when she was
young-say, seventeen or eighteen.
1t was not long until Mr.. Hatred
velopes. She told him one evening
when the family had gone out and
they were alone on the Blanchard
porch in the moonlight
Mr.. Gilman she observed tremu-
lousy. Il may trust you. We have
known each other all our lives, and
never knew you to betray a confidence,
even when we had our worst spata
Mr.. Gilman"
You may call me Hatred" he inter-
rupted with quite elderly gentleness,
laying his hand protectingly upon
hers, where it rested upon the arm of
her chair. You have no brother. You
need one
Thank you, Hatred she gratefully
replied. Il am going to confide in
you. Hatred, my parents are bent on
running my life. | have an attach
ment, deep and lasting attachment
and they frown upon it. l have never
met him but twice, but we have cor
responded ever since. At first it was
only the ordinary boy and girl cor
respondence, of course: but as it grew
it deepened and ripened into some
thing far too precious for them to un-
derstand. You, however, are man of
the world. You can, perhaps, appre-
ciate how vital an attachment like this
becomes" And she quoted four verses
from the "Rubaiyat'' of Omar Khay-
yam to prove it.
Yes, l know, / know" replied Hal
fred, with dreamy emphasis. Il had
also. when / was younger, an attach
ment that might have altered the
course of my entire life, but it was
nipped in the bud She" he choked
up little bit very successfully-"she
proved faithless."
II am sorry, brother" she said,
turning her hand palm upward to
clasp his strong and supple fingers
with a grip of understanding. Il
would not have re-opened your wound
for worlds"
1T is nothing" he replied in a hol-
low voice, leaving his hand in hers.
Nothing whatever. The same devo-
ton / would have poured out for her
| now intend to pour out for the weak
and the fallen"
Il am so proud, so proud, of my
brother" she murmured.
After that they were no longer Mr..
Gilman and Miss Blanchard; they
were Hatred and Alice, and they were
more together than ever, if possible
They were an ideal couple for mere
brother and sister. They found so
much to talk about that they scarcely
needed other companionship, and even
when they were with gay parties they
could always be found by themselves
some place. discussing the glory of
self-abnegation as evidenced in set
Element work, or the callousness of