The Beaver herald. [volume] (Beaver, O.T. [Okla.]) 1895-1923, 1919-11-20
By BOOTH HARRINGTON

y
life we have left to us for making up
to ourselves from old unhnppiness and
mistakes. But now we're faced with
not the SANDER and not our own feer
Of II, because we haven't any, but
someone else's fear of it-your sons
And, oh, dearest woman In the world,
know what your son is to you. and It
f-ightens me Let me explain little:
I don't think he'll change--at twenty
one or twenty-five so many things ap-
pear solid and permanent and terrible
which forty sees are nothing hut dis
appearing miasma. Forty capS tell
twenty about this; that's the pity of
II Twenty can find out only by get
ting to be forty. And so we come 10
this, dear: VIII you live your own life
your way. or Georges way? I'm going
a little further, because II would be
fatal not to hs wholly frank now.
George will act toward you only 9s
your long worship of him, your sac
rlfices-all the unseen little ones every
day since he was born-will make him
act. Dear, II breaks my heart for you,
but what you have to oppose now IL
the history of your own selHess aud
perfect motherhood. l remember say
Ing once that what you worshipeu In
your son was the angel you saw In him
and / still believe that Is true OF
every mother. But In n mothers wor-
ship she may not see that the will in
her son should not always be offered in
cense along with the angel. grow sick
with fear for you--for both you and
me-when think how the will against
us two has grown strong through the
love you have given the angel-and
how long your own sweet will has
served that other. Are you strong
enough. Isabel2 Can you make the
fight2 / promise you that II you Will
take heart for II, you will find so quick
ly that II has all amounted to nothing.
You shall have happiness, and, In a
. little while. only happiness. You need
only to write me llne-I can't come
to your house-and tell me where you
will meet me. We will come back In
n month, and the angel In your son
will bring him to you; promise It.
What Is good In him will grow so fine,
once you have beaten the turbulent
will-but II must be beaten!
"Your brother, that good friend, Is
waiting with such patience; should
not keep him longer-and l am saying
too much for wisdom, l fear But. oh.
my dear, won't you be strong-such
little short strength 1t would need
Don't strike my life down twice, dear
this time I've not deserved II.
"EUGENE."
Concluding this mlsslve, George
tossed It abruptly from him so one
sheet fell upon his bed and the others
upon the floor; and at the faint noise
OF their falling Isabel came. and. kneel-
ing, began to gather them up.
"Did you read II, dear?"
Georges face was pale no longer,
but pink with fury. 'Yes, / did"
"All of it?' she asked gently, as she
rose.
Certainly
She did not look at him, but kept her
eyes downcast upon the letter in her
hands, tremulously rearranging the
sheets in order ms she spoke-and
though she smiled. her smile was as
tremulous as her hands. Nervousness
and an irresistible timidity possessed
her. 81 wanted TO say. George she
faltered. 81 felt that if--if some day
II should happen--I mean, II you came
to feel differently about Il, and Eu-
gene and 1-that is II we found that il
seemed the most sensible thing 20 do
| was afraid you might think 1t would
| he little queer about-Lucy. 1 mean
if-lf she We're your step-slster OF
course, she'd not be even legally re-
lated to you, and II you-if you cared
| for her"
Thus far she got stumbllngly with
what she wanted 10 say, while George
watched her with gaze that grew
harder and hotter but here he cut her
off. 81 have already given up all idea
OF Lucy" he said. Naturally, /
| couldn't have treated her father MS I
deliberately did treat him-I could
hardly have done that and expected his
daughter ever to speak TO me again."
Isabel gave quick cry of compass
sion, but be pIlowed her no opportunity
TO speak. You needn't think I'm
making any particular sacrifice" he
said sharply, though l would. quickly
enough II thought Il necessary in a
matter of honor like this / was inter-
csted IN her, and could even say
did care for her; but she proved pretty
satisfactorily that she cared little
enough about me The truth is, we're
\ not cougenlal and we'd found that
much out, at least, before she left. We
should never have been happy; she
was superior all the time. and critical
OF me-not very pleasant, thatl
don't think she has the very deepest
nature IN the world. and"
But Isabel put her hand timidly on
N II 80.