The Hope pioneer. [volume] (Hope, N.D.) 1882-1964, 1920-04-22
Two MANS
BY MILDRED WHITE.



Copyright. 1920. Western Newspaper Union.)
7 sat in the attic beside the long
closed trunk which held Aunt Mans
Eirlish finery. l could not remember
Aunt Nan. She had gone away when
l was a child, and later she died. But
1t seemed that the memory of this de-
was to be my continued warning
against frivolity and light-mindedness.
l had been brought up by Aunt Mi
nerva in loneliness and severity. 1t
was mothers cross, and hers, that I
should resemble Aunt Nan to a
marked degree; bringing back con-
stantly recollection of sorrow and hui
initiation. 1t seemed that Aunt Nan
had brought this suffering into Aunt
Minerals life and to many others by
her charm of attraction, thoughtless-
ness and-so her sister said-by utter
heartlessness. But ever in my dis
ciplined childish mind was a sneaking
admiration for this same witch of an
aunt, who with her small brown face
had triumphed in love. And as she
could lot keep all the love bestowed,
l reasoned, what could she do but cast
it back again? ! used to study the
painting of my mother and her two
| sisters and ponder we it.
You. see" Mans twinkly eyes
seemed to say, Tn more sinned
against than SHINING. 1t is my elder
sisters who enjoy the advantages: If
can I help that"
The pathetic curve Of Mans lips
begged the question. Startled, 1 turned
to the glass to see another small face
with the same twinkly eyes, the same
lips dropping in the mirror grieved
with life as it was. The resemblance
was remarkable" as I had heard
mother and Aunt Minerva so often re-
mark; and because of that resem-
blance, / lived until the age Of twen-
Aunt Mans unforgivable sin was the
winning Of a heart-which had been
duly given and signed to Minerva.
Aunt Minerals fiance had not hap
pened to meet the elusive Nan until
after he was publicly betrothed to
Aunt Minerva. But as soon as he did
know the queer little creature it was
all off with Minerva and he told her
so honestly. He could care for no one
else thereafter, he said, but the little
girl who had bewitched him; and
though Aunt Nan would have nothing
to 10 with the man after that, he
fingered only long enough to learn of
her affair with David, then he went
away forever. David Burnie was the
only son of the old Scotch doctor
whom everybody loved; and David
was studying medicine in the city that
he might soon fill his fathers place.
David had played with Nan when she
was a schoolgirl. He'd loved her
throughout high school days; and
though Nan laughed and treated him
in her charming impersonal manner.
still David's hope was to win her for
his wife when he should be through
with his college, and take her to his
fathers home to dispense happiness
there as its mistress. Nan allowed
him to think that perhaps this hope
might come. Then as David was about
to graduate Nan wrote him from Cali
fOrnia, where she had gone to visit,
that If he'd throw yer the doctor
business altogether and go out there
where there was a wonderful opening
| for him IN h0p 1p,o1osc hrcsrocr NV
Germ, she might marry him there.
David threw over his career without
q regretful thought and went to her;
and the old doctor, who was getting
too old to carry on his practice longer,
closed his office door in silence and
closed his heart to David. And when
David reached California, Nan was
married. She "had not meant to be-"
she told David tearfully, but this man
who loved her had felt so terribly
when he learned of David's coming.
And this was the Nan who had been
held up to me in warning. David
never came back. No one knew what
became of him. There were stacks of
David Burnie's letters in the trunk
which Nan left so long ago here in her
home. l loved to read them on long
idle afternoons and I pictured David
to myself a man of noble sympathies,
the hero of every book I read. There
was a picture of David, too. and I
liked the fine seriousness of his face.
And on this particular afternoon I
drew from the trunk a muslin dress
covered with lavender roses and fanci.
fully I tied it's violet ribbons about
my waist, then standing before the
mirror I parted my brown hair as
Aunt Mans was parted in the picture
and I smiled again at the replica of
myself. Perhaps some Of Mans mis-
%chievous daring may have been
evoked from her dress for l started
with unwonted gayety down the stairs
to flash myself upon Aunt Minerals
gaze. She was not on the veranda, as
I had expected, but a man stood there.
a man who had been ringing the bell