The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1919-12-19

/ Then he closed the book quietly, and
went up to his own room. agreeing
with the elevator boy. on the way.
! that it was getting to be mighty
nasty wet and windy day outside. :
The elevator boy noticed nothing I'M
usual about him and neither did Fanny.
when she came In from church with
her hat ruined, an hour later. And yet
something had happened-a thing
which, years ago. had been the eager
est hope Of many, many good citizens
of the town. They had thought Of 1t,
longed for it, hoping acutely that they
might live to see the day when it would
come to pass. And now 1t had hap
pened at last: George Minafer had
got his come-upance.
He had got 1t three times filed and
running over. The city had rolled over
his heart burying 1t under, as 1t rolled
over the Majors and buried it under.
The city had rolled over the Amber
sons and buried them under to the last
vestige; and it mattered little that
George guessed easily enough that
most Of the five hundred Most Promi-
nent had paid something substantial
ito defray the cost of steel engraving,
etc."-the Five Hundred had heaved
the final shovelful of SCOT upon that
heap of obscurity wherein the Amber
sons were lost forever from sight and
history. Quicksilver in a nest of
| cracks I"
George Minafer had got his come
upance. but the people who had so
longed for it were not there to see it,
and they never knew 1t. Those who
were still living had forgotten all
about 1t and all about him,
George had seen Eugene only once
since their calamitous encounter. They
had passed on opposite sides Of the
street, downtown; each had been
aware that the other was aware of
him, and yet each kept his eyes
| straight forward, and neither had
shown perceptible alteration of coun-
tenance. 1t seemed to George that he
felt emanating from the outwardly Inn
L
| friend hate that was like hot wind.
At his mothers funeral and at the
Majors he had been conscious that
Eugene was there: though he had aft
erward no recollection of seeing him,
and, while certain of his presence, was
uncertain how he knew of it. Fanny
had not told him, for she understood
George well enough not to speak to
| him of Eugene or Lucy. Nowadays
Fanny almost never saw either of
them and seldom thought of them-so
sly is the way of time with life. She
was passing middle age, when old in
tensities and longings grow thin and
flatten out. as Fanny herself was thin
ming and fiattening out; and she was
settling down contentedly to her apart
ment-house intimacies.
The city was so big, now, that peo-
pie disappeared into it unnoticed, and
the disappearance of Fanny and her
nephew was not EXCEPTIONAL People
no longer knew their neighbors as a
matter Of course; one lived for years
next door to strangers-that sharpest
of all the changes since the old days
land a friend would lose sight Of a
friend for year. and not know it.
One May day George thought he had
| a glimpse Of Lucy. He was not GER
| tain, but he was sufficiently disturbed,
in spite Of his uncertainty. A promo
| ton In his work now frequently took
him out Of town for week, or longer,
and it was upon his return from one Of
these absences that he had the strange
experience. He had walked home from
the station, and as he turned the cor
| ner which brought him in sight Of the
| apartment house entrance, though two
blocks distant from it, he saw charm
ing little figure come out, get into a
| shiny landaulet automobile, and drive
| away. Even at that distance no one
could have any doubt that the little
| figure was charming; and the height,
the quickness and decision of motion,
| even the swift gesture of white glove
toward the chauffeur-all were char
acteristic of Lucy. George was instant
| ly subjected to a shock of indefinable
nature, yet definitely shock: he did
| not know what he felt-but he knew
that he felt. He went on slowly, his
knees shaky.
But he found Fanny not at home !;
she had been out all afternoon; and
| there was no record of any caller
| and he began to wonder, then to doubt
if the small lady he had seen in the
distance was Lucy. 1t might as wen
| have been, he said to himself-sinc
anyone who looked like her could give
him "a jolt like that!"
Lucy had not left card. She never
| left one when she called on Fanny
| though she did not give her reasons
quite definite form In her own mind.
She came seldom; this was but the
third time that year, and, when she did
come, George was not mentioned,
either by her hostess or by herself-an
oddly contrived between the two
ladies without either of them realizing
how odd it was.
At other times Lucy's thoughts of
George were anything but continuous,
and weeks went by when he was not
consciously in her mind at all. Her
life was busy one: she had the big
house ito keep up" she had a garden
to keep up, too, large and beautiful
garden; she represented her father as
a director for half dozen public char
ity organizations, and did private
charity work Of her own, being q proxy
mother of several large families; and
she had danced down." as she said.