The Dolores star., 1922-05-26

Buck pushed open the swinging
door between the pantry and the sit
ting room, and came in, question IN
his bright eyes. his great pIumy 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 II, 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. 1t 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 a 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 Bl-
bic 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 a 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
UdCh Vi dll ~
have it slip loose again.
One of her kitchen aprons, caught In
the current of air from the opened
door. blew about on Its hook. He re-
membered ner. on many a 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
an exclamation: "Oh, my duCkS-rd
forgotten them! Oh, the poor little
wretches ~
And she would be gone, leaving n
| 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,
| delying into barrels Of grain, turning
on faucets, welding a stubby old
broom.
She loved her life, he mused, with
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 a loss.
"We've always thought of Cherry as
the child"' he thought. But /; was
she, Alix. 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 picnlcked 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
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 it only after he had some
what explored the different small
drawers and plgeonhoes 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 If she had anywhere left
private papers, they were at least no.
where to be found.
Seeing In all this a dread confirma-
tion of his first suspicion of her death.
Peter nevertheless experienced shock
when he found her letter.
It had been placed in an empty
drawer, face up, and was sealed, and
addressed simply with his name.
| He sat holding n In bfc ba.,