Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1917-08-26

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that we had only a little toast and
tea. 1t was all she could afford and /.
with hundred dollars in bills at that
anything more though she was needing
nourishment and dishes piled with
savory meats were going by us every
moment.
j think. if she had let me. I would
have dared my fathers displeasure and
been disobedent to his wishes by Civ
Ing her one wholesome meal. But she
WAS as resolute of mind a he. and.
she said afterward. had chosen her
course in life and must abide by il. My
love she would accept 1t took nothing
from father and gave her what her
heart was pining for-had pinned for for
thing more. She would not even let ME
go home with her. and ] knew why
when her eyes fell at the searching
look i gave her Something would turn
up. and when her husbands health was
better and she had found another po-
sition she would send me her address
and then / could come and see her. As
we walked out of the restaurant We
ran against a gentleman ! knew. He
stopped me for passing word and IN
that minute she disappeared. / did not
try to follow her. | could get her street
and number from the store where she
had worked
But when | had done this and EN-
bfaced the first opportunity which Of
fered to visit her. I found that she had
moved away in the interim, leaving
everything behind in payment of her
rent. except such small things as she
and her husband could carry. This was
discouraging. IL left me without any
clue by which to follow them. But l
was determined not to yield to her De
sire for concealment in the difficult ana
disheartening task 1 now saw before
me.
Seeking advice from the man who has
since become my employer. l entered
upon this second search with quiet
resolution which admitted OF no oe-
feat. II took me six months. but final
ly found her, and satisfied with know
ing where she was. desisted from rush
ing in upon her. till | had caught one
glimpse of her husband whom. in the
last six months. l had heard described.
but had never seen. To understand her,
it was perhaps necessary to understand
him. and If I could not hope 10 DO inns
offhand, I could not fail to get some
idea of the man from even the most
casual look.
He was, as / coon learned. the fletcher
and carrier of the small menage and
the day came when ] met him face 70
face in the street where they lived Did
he dSappoint me. or did l see some
thing in his appearance 10 justify her
desertion of her fathers home and her
present life of proverty? If ] say yes
to the first question. ! must also say u
to the last If handsome once, he was
not handsome now; but with a per-
sonality such as his, this did not mat
ter. He had that better thing-that
greatest gift of the gods-charm- 1t
was in his bearing. his movement. the
regard of his weary eye: more than
that II was in his very nature or II
would have vanished long ago under
disappointment and privation.
But that was all there was to the
mana golden net in which my sisters
youthful fancy had been caught and.
no doubt. held meshed to this very
day. I felt less like blaming her for
her folly. after that instant's view OF
him as we passed each other in the
street But. / took time to think, L
found myself growing sorrier and sor-
rier for her. and yet, in way, gladder
and gladder. for the man was physi-
cal wreck and would soon pass out OF
her life. leaving her to my love and
possibly to our fathers forgiveness.
But / did not know Theresa. After
her husbands death. which occurred
very soon. she let me come to her and
we had long talk. Shall ever forget
it or the sight of her beauty in that
sordid room? For, account for 1t as
YOU will. the loneliness which had ned
under her sense of complete isolation
had slowly regained its own. with the
recognition that she still had place
in the heart of her little sister. Not
even the sorrow she felt for the loss of
her suffering husband-and she did
mourn him: this I am glad to say
could more than temporarily stay this
Six months of ease and wholesome food
would make her-I hardly dared to
think what For l knew. without ask
ing her, or she telling me. that she
determined now as ever that nothing
which came directly or indirectly from
father should go to the rebuilding of
her life. That she intended to start
anew and work her way up to place
where / should be glad to see her she
did say. But nothing more. She was
still the mother, loving. but sufficient
to herself. though she had but $40 left
iRthe world. as she showed me with
smile that made her beautiful as an
angel.
] can see that shabby little purse yet
with its one poor greasy bill-a sum to
her. but TO me the price of luncheon
or gift of flowers. How l longed. as
I looked at il. to tear every jewel from
my poor, bedecked body and fing them
one and all into her lap. / had worn
them in profusion, though carefully
hidden under my coat, in the hope that
she would accept one of them at least.
But she refused all. even such as had
been gifts OF friends and schoolmates,
only humoring me this far, that she
let me hang them for a few minutes
about her neck and in her hair and
veyed in the suggestion that the en-