, 1923-10-31

"Your clothes are about done for,
JOAN" Prosper laughed one morning.
watching her belt in her tattered
shirt you'll soon look like C~ophetua's
beggar maid"
."Tm not quite barefoot yet" She
held up a cracked boot.
II was going to tell you that there
are a skirt and a sort Of coat in-in
a closet In the hall. Do you want to
use them7"
She went out to look. In five min
utes he heard her laugh. and. still
laughing. she opened the door again.
"Oh. Mr.. Gael, were you really
thinking that I could wear thesef
Look"
He turned and looked at her. She
had crowded her strong, 1.-THE frame
into a brown tweed suit, a world too
narrow for her. and she was laughing
to show him the misft.
"These things. Mr.. Gael" she said-
they must have been made for a tall
child"
Prosper had too far tempted his
pain. and In her vivid phrase It came
to life before him. She had painted
n startling picture and he had seen
that suit, so small INT trim, before.
Joan saw his face grow white, his
eyes stared through her. He drew a
quick breath and WINGED away from
her. hiding his face In his hands. A
moment later he was weeping convul-
sively. with violence. his head down
between his hands. Joan started
toward him. but he made a wicked
and repellent gesture. She fed Into
her room and sat. bewildered, on her
bed.
All at once the question came to
her: for whom had the delicate fabrics
been bought. for whom had this suit
been nader ut was his wife and she
is dead" thought Joan, inc very pitt
fully she took off the suit, laid 1t
and the other things away, and sitting
by her window rested her chin in her
hands and stared out through the blue
pines. Tears ran down her face be-
cause she was so sorry for P~rosper's
pain. And again. thought Joan. she
had caused 1t. she who owed him ev-
erything. Yes. she was deeply sorry
for Prosper, deeply: her whole heart
was stirred. For the first time she
had a longing to comfort him with
her hands.
For all that day Prosper fed the
house and went across the country,
now fording a flood of melted snow,
now laundering through a drift, now
walking on springy sod, unaware Of
the soft spring. conscious only of a
sort of fire in his breast. He suffered
and he resented his suffering, and he
would have killed his heart II, by so
doing, he could have given it peace.
And all day he did not once think of
Joan. but only of the tall child" for
whom the gay canyon refuge had been
built, but who had never set her slim
foot upon the threshold. Sunset found
him miles away in the foothills Of a
low. many-folded range across the
plain. He was dog tired, so that for
very exhaustion his brain had stopped
its tormenting work. He lit n fire and
sat by II. huddled In his coat, smoking,
doing. not able really to sleep for
cold and hunger. Prosper hated the
night and Its beautiful desolation, he
hated the God that had made this
land. He cursed the dawn when II
came delicately. spreading n green arc
Of radiance across the east. And
then. as he arose stiffly, stamped out
his fire and started slowly on his way
back. he was conscious of a passion
ate inconsistencies, not for the old life
he had lost, but for his cabin, his
bright hearth. his shut-in solitude, his
Joan. Very dear and real and human
she was, and her laughter had been
sweet. And she must be anxious
about him. She would have sat up by
the fire nll night. His eager
ness for her sighted comfort gave his
tagging steps a certain vigor, the long
walk back seemed very long indeed.
Noon was hot, but he found water.
md by shutdown he came to the can
yon trail. He wanted Joan as badly
now ms a hurt child wants its mother.
He came, haggard and breathless, to
the door, called "Joan," came into the
warm little room and found II empty.
Wen Ho, to be sure, battered to meet
him.
mister Gael been gone n long time,
velly. long. all night. Wen Ho, he
fix bed, fix breakfast-oh. the 1ady1
She gone out yestiddy, not come back.
She leave a letter for him. there on
the tnble."
Prosper took II. waved Wen Ho out,
and. dropping into the big chair.
opened the paper. There was Joan's
big handwriting. that he himself had
taught her. Before. she could only
sign her name.
Mister Gael. dere friend:
"You have ben too good to me an
Il has ben too hard for you to keep
me when you were all the vile amissln
her an II hurts me TO think OF how II
.,,., haya hon tarrihta hard for vou