The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1914-05-08


who am suffering, not you
A sleepy night Waterman took them
up in the elevator. He was not even
interested. Mrs. Wrandall did not
speak, but leaned rather heavily on
the arm of her companion. The door
had no sooner closed behind them
when the girl collapsed. She sank to
the floor in heap.
Get up!" commanded her hostess
sharply. This was not the time for
soft, persuasive words. Get up at
once. You are young and strong. You
must show the stuff you are made of
now if you ever mean to show it.
cannot help you if you quail"
| The girl looked up piteously, and
then struggled to her feet. She stood
before her protectress, weaving like
a frail reed in the wind, pallid to the
lips.
Il beg your pardon" she murmured.
81 will not give way like that again.
| dare say l am faint. l have had no
food, no rest-but never mind that
now. Tell me what am to do. l will
try to obey
First Of all, get out of those muddy,
frozen things you have on"
| Mrs. Wrandall herself moved stiffy
and with unsteady limbs as she began
to remove her own outer garments.
The girl mechanically followed her ex-
ample. She was pitiable object in
the strong light of the electrolier
Muddy from head to foot, water
stained and bedraggled, her face
streaked with dirt, she was the most
unattractive creature one could well
imagine.
These women, so strangely thrown
together by Fate, maintained an I'M
broken silence during the long, fumb-
ling process of partial disrobing. They
scarcely looked at one another, and
yet they were acutefy conscious of the
interest each felt in the other. The
| grateful warmth of the room, the alb
rupt transition from gloom and cheer
lessness to comfortable obscurity, had
more pronounced effect on the
stranger than on her hostess.
| ''It is good to feel warm once more"
she said, an odd timidness in her man.
ner. You are very good to me-"
They were sitting in Mrs. Wran-
dalls bedchamber, just off the little
sitting-room. Three or four trunks
stood against the walls.
81 dismissed my maid on landing
She robbed me-" said Mrs Wrandall,
voicing the relief that was uppermost
in her mind. She opened closet
door and took out thick eider-down
robe which she tossed across a chair.
! "Now call up the Office and say that
you are speaking for me. Say to them
that 1 must have something to eat,
| no matter what the hour may be. !
| will get out some clean underwear for
| you, and Oh, yes; if they ask about
me, say that am cold and i'll. That
| is sufficient. Here is the bath. Please
be as quick about it as possible"
| Moving as if in a dream, the girl
did as she was told. Twenty minutes
later there was knock at the door.
A waiter appeared with a tray and
service table. He found Mrs. Wran-
dali lying back in chair, attended
by slender young woman in a pink
eider-down dressing-gown, who gave
hesitating directions to him. Then he
was dismissed with a handsome tip,
| produced by the same young woman.
You are not to return for these
things" she said as he went out.
| In silence she ate and drank, her
hostess looking on with gloomy inter
est 1t was no shock to Mrs. Wran-
dali to find that the girl, who was no
more than twenty-five or three, pos
| sessed unusual beauty. Her great eyes
were blue-the lovely Irish blue-her
! skin was fair and smooth, her fea-
| lures regular and of the delicate mold
that defines the well-bred gentlewom-
an at a glance. Her hair, now in or
! der, was dark and thick and lay softly
about her small ears and neck She
was not surprised, Il repeat, for she
had never known Challis Wrandall to
| show interest in any but the most
attractive of her sex. She found her
self smiling bitterly as she looked
But who may know the thoughts of
| the other occupant OF that little sit
| ting-room? Who can put herself in
| the place of that despairing, hunted
| creature who knew that blood was on
| the hands with which she ate, and
| whose eyes were filled with visions of
| the death-chair?
So great was her fatigue that long
| before she finished the meal her tired
lids began to droop, her head to nod
| in spasmodic surrenders to an over
| towering desire for Sleep. Suddenly
| she dropped the fork from her fingers
and sank back in the comfortable
chair. her head resting against the
soft, upholstered back. Her lids fell.
her hands dropped to the arms of the
chair. A fine line appeared between
her dark eyebrows-indicative of pain.
For many minutes Sara Wrandall
watched the haggardness deepen in
the face Of the unconscious sleeper.
Then, even as she wondered at the
act. she went over and took up one of
the slim hands in her own. The hand
Of an aristocrat! 1t lay limp in hers,
| and helpless. Long, tapering fingers
| and delicately pink with the return of
| warmth.
Rousing herself from the mute con-
| temptation Of her charge, she shook
the girls shoulder. Instantly she was
| awake and staring, alarm in her dazed,
bewildered eyes.
You must go to bed" said Mrs.
Wrandall quietly. Don't be afraid
No one will think of coming here"