The Oakley herald. [volume] (Oakley, Idaho) 1908-1961, 1919-12-05


"To feel-my hand on your cheek.
II can feel it,"
But this frightened him horribly
that she seemed so glad she could feel
1t. like a child proud of some miracu-
lous seeming thing accomplished. It
frightened him so that he could DOT
speak, and he feared that she would
know how he trembled; but she was
unaware, and again was silent. Final
ly she spoke again:
II wonder if-if Eugene and Lucy
know that we've come-home."
I'm sure they do
HAS he-asked about met"
Eyes, he was here"
HAS he-gone"
Eyes, mother"
She sighed family. 'Td like
"What, mother?'
'Td like to have-seen him." 1t was
audible, this little regretful murmur.
Several minutes passed before there
was another. "Just-just once" she
whispered, and then was still.
She seemed to have fallen asleep,
and George moved to go, but faint
pressure upon his fingers detained
him, and he remained, with her hand
still pressed against his cheek. After
a while he made sure she was asl Up,
and moved again, to let the ntsr4e
come in, and this time there was no
pressure of the fingers to keep him.
She was not asleep, but, think1.x that
If he went he might get some rest, and
be better prepared for what she knew
was coming, she commanded those
longing fingers of hers-and let him
go.
He found the doctor standing with
the nurse in the hall; and, telling
them that his mother was browsing
now, George went back to his own
room, where he was startled to find
his grandfather lying on the bed, and
his uncle leaning against the wall.
They had gone home two hours before,
and he did not know they had return
ed.
"The doctor thought we'd better
come over" Anderson said, then was
silent, and George, shaking violently,
sat down on the edge of the bed. His
shaking continued, and from time to
time he wiped heavy sweat from his
forehead.
The hours passed, and sometimes
the old man upon the bed would snore
a little, stop suddenly. and move as If
to rise, but George Anderson would
set hand upon his shoulder, and
murmur a reassuring word or two.
Once George gasped defiantly.
"That doctor in New York said she
might get better Don't you know he
did? Don't you know he said she
mightY"
Anderson made no answer.
Dawn had been murking through
the smoky windows, growing strong
err for half an hour, when both men
hall and the Major sat up on the bed.
1t was the voice Of the nurse speaking
to Fanny Minafer, and the next mo-
ment Fanny appeared In the doorway
making contorted efforts to speak.
Anderson said weakly: Does she
want us-to come in?"
But Fanny found her voice, and ut
tered long, loud cry. She threw her
arms about George, and sobbed In an
agony of loss and compassion:
"She loved you" she walled. "She
loved you She loved you'll Oh. how
she did love you'll"
Isabel had just left them.
Major Anderson remained dry-eyed
through the time that followed; he
knew that this separation from his
daughter would be short; that the
separation which had preceded it was
the long one. He worked at his
ledgers no more under his old gas
drop-light, but would sit oil evening
staring into the fire, In his bedroom,
and not speaking unless someone ask
ed him a question. He seemed almost
unaware of what went on around him,
and those who were with him thought
him dazed by Isabel's death, guessing
,ieAt iS vas iOSt III ICiliulSCcuCtS uuQ
vague dreams. probably his mind Ia
full of pictures OF his youth, or the
Civil war, and the days when he and
mother were young married people
and all of us children were jolly little
things-and the city was a small town
with one cobbled street and the others
just dirt roads with board sidewalks"
This was George Ambersons conjec-
ture, and the others agreed; but they
were mistaken. The Major was en-
gagged in the profoundest thinking OF
his life. No business plans which had
ever absorbed him could compare In
momentousness with the plans that
absorbed him now, for he had to plan
how to enter the unknown country
where he was not even sure Of being
recognized as an Amberson--not sure
OF anything, except that Isabel would
help him If she could. The Major was
occupied with the first really impor-
tant matter that had taken his atten-
ton since he came home invalded, at.
ter the Gettysburg campaign. and