The Holly chieftain., 1922-05-04

ASuNh PuShCu Opcu lhC oWIh6lhk
door between the pantry and the sit
ting room. and came in. a question in
his bright eyes, his great plumy tall
beating the floor as he lay down at
Peters side. Presently the dog laid
his nose on Peters knee and poured
forth faint sound that was not quite
a whine. not quite sigh, and rose
restlessly, and went to the closed door
of Alix's room, and paved 1t, his eager
nose to the threshold.
"Not here. old fellow!" Peter said,
strOking the silky head under his
hand.
He had not been In this room since
the day of her death. It struck him
| as strangely changed, strangely and
heartrendingly familiar. The windows
were closed, as Alix had never had
them closed. winter or summer, rain
or sunshine. Her books stood In their
old order, her students Shakespeare,
and some of her girlhOods books.
Little Women and "Uncle Max" In
the closet, which exhaled damp and
woody smell, were one or two of the
boyish-looking hats he had so often
seen her crush carelessly on her dark
hair, and the big belted coat that was
as plain as his own, and the big boots
she wore when she tramped about the
poultry yard. still spattered with pale,
dry mud. Her fathers worn little b.
Bile lay on the table, and beside it an
other book. Duck Raising for the
Market" with the marks of muddy
| and mealy hands still lingering on its
| cover.
| Suddenly, evoked by these silent
witnesses to her busy and happy life,
the whole woman seemed to stand be-
side Peter, the tall, eager. vital woman
who had been at home here. who had
ruled the cabin with splendid and
vital personality. He seemed to feel
her near him again, to see the inter-
ested eyes, the high cheek bones
touched with scarlet, the wisp of hair
that would fall across her face some
times when she was deep in baking,
or preserving, or poultry-farming, and
that she would brush away with the
back Of an impatient hand, only to
| nave it slip ioO6e AXdln.
One of her kitchen aprons, caught In
the current Of air from the opened
door. blew about on Its hook. He re-
membered her. on many wintry day,
buttoned into just such crisp apron,
radiantly busy and brisk In her kitch-
en-, stirring and chopping, moving con-
stantly between stove and table. With
strong hands still showing traces Of
flour she would come to sit beside him
at the piano. to play duet with her
characteristic dash and finish. only to
jump up In sudden conjunction, with
an exclamation: "Oh. my ducks-Td
forgotten theml Oh, the poor little
wretches! I"
And she would be gone. leaving a
streak of wet, fresh air through the
warm house from the open door. and
he would perhaps glance from a win
dow to see her, roughly coated and
booted. ploughing about her duck yard,
delving into barrels Of grain, turning
on faucets, welding stubby old
broom.
She loved her life, he mused, with
a bitter heartache, as he stood here
In her empty room. Sometimes he had
marveled at the complete and unques-
tionIng Joy she had brought to it. Pc
ter reminded himself that never in
their years together had he heard her
complain about anything, or seem to
feel bored or at loss.
We've always thought of Cherry as
the child!" he thought "But i; was
she, Allx. who was the real child. She
never grew up. She never entered into
the time of moods and self-analysis
and jealousies and desires She would
have played and picnicked all her
life
His heart pressed like n dull pain
in his chest. Duly, quietly. he went
out to the fire again, and duly and
quietly moved through the day. Her
books and music might stand as they
were, her potted ferns and her scat
tered small possessions-the sewing.
basket that she always handled with
a boys awkwardness. and the camera
she used so well-should keep their
places. But he went to her desk.
thinking in this long, solitary evening,
to destroy various papers that she
might wish destroyed before the cabin
was deserted. And here he found her
letter.
He found 1t only after he had some
what explored the different small
drawers and pigeonholes of the desk,
drawers and pigeOnholes which were.
to his surprise. all In astonishing or
der for Alix. Everything was marked.
tied, pocketed; her accounts were bal
anced,, and IL she had anywhere left
private papers, they were at least no.
where to be found.
Seeing in all this dread confrma-
ton Of his first suspicion Of her death,
Peter nevertheless experienced shock
when he found her letter.
1t had been placed in an empty
drawer, face up. and was sealed, and
Ii