The Challis messenger. (Challis, Idaho) 1912-current, 1924-11-05
Chapter II

Joan had a room in a nurses board
ing house few minutes walk away.
She walked mechanically homeward,
hardly even yet realizing the magni-
tude of the blow which had befallen
her. Avonmouth lay almost deserted
in the noontide glare. The suffered
houses. gay with striped awnings,
looked down on the white, dusty
streets. The little park that contained
the Confederate monument was bright
with geraniums. but the grass was
parched and withered. and the feeble
efforts of an automatic sprinkler
seemed almost instantly absorbed by
the thirsty ground
Joan made her way toward an over
hanging tree, brushed away a prickly
| caterpillar from a seat beneath it, and
sat down. She was trying to estimate
the magnitude of the catastrophe that
had happened to her, to free herself
from the stupefed wonder and pas
sionate resentment that held her. Two
hours before life had seemed reason
ably bright; now its entire course was
changed. For she did not doubt that
the lady superintendent had been try
ing to soften the news of her dis
missal-
Her mind ran back to the beginning
of all things for her-her fathers
death. That had happened ten years
before, and the mortgage on the
estate, ruined after the war, had
grown like a spreading sore, eating
away field after field, until it swal-
lowed everything except nine hundred
dollars. After the enforced sale, MrD.
Wentworth and her daughter had gone
to Avonmouth for the sole reason that
the mother remembered a wealthy
godmother there, distantly related,
whose activities she hoped to enlist on
behalf of her daughter. 1t was char
acteristic of her that she should not
have known the woman had died six
years previously.
Still. Avonmouth was the nearest
large town in which a girl, flung on
the world unframed, might hope to |
support two people. Joan had long
before wanted to be nurse She de- |
cided to attempt to enter a hospital;
but now her mothers slow, mortal
illness kept her nursing her at home.
Six months after their arrival Mrs.
Wentworth died. What remained of
their nine hundred dollars after the
doctors and funeral expenses had
been paid would suffice for Joan's
merest needs until she had graduated
from the Southern hospital. But the
physician who attended Mrs. Went
worth in her last illness had secured
the girl a position as probationer,
and Joan was as happy as she could
expect TO be. Since that date he had
moved away, and Joan was altogether
alone.
AT home they had known hardly
anyone, for the whole region was in
hat condition of resettlement that be-
gan in the seventies and is still pro-
feeding. Their friends had scattered
o the north and west; their letters
rad long since ceased. Prosperity.
stalking through the nation, had left a
little ridge of poverty between the
;waths of its progress through the
oothills of the back country. In Avon
mouth Mrs. Wentworth's illness. and ,
fterward. the hospital work, had kept
he girl both from making friends and
rom the realization of her need of
hem. Her whole mind was set upon |,
that diploma which would
mean an assured living. and before ,
er eyes WAS ever the spectacle of
UGH poverty as she had known at !,
ONE among others and had seen APP
reaching her mother After she
perhaps. life might begin
D unfold before her eyes. But even
MS she realized only vaguely; she
we'd altogether in the moment.