The Miller press. [volume] (Miller, S.D.) 190?-current, 1924-02-21

supper the Sarle: an hour or twiiign'
with Teyie on the rustic seat at Wits
pering spring. The rest of the day ~
spent in the study at the parsonage
where. nj the iRsistence of the ySaer
able widow. he lunchad He proved Il
be a very studious man. 1t was q
rare thing indeed 10 see him in day
light when his reerIng yes were not
porting owe a book, with another
usually tucked under his arm.
Jack Warhope had moi yet climbed
the bluffs to the woods on the morn
ing Of that eyentful day that fiarec
forth the startled face of the noun
its dawn still chung to cliff and seer
and many candles were still alight In
the village. when the preacher left the
parlor bedroom and anne out ON the
porch.
Texie was already on the lawn. fit
ting about among the flowers and
gathering a bouquet for the breakfast
table. 4
She was like them-the flowers as
much a part of the rich life of the
lawn as they. Life-it radiated from
every curve of her plant body ii was
the n thought that came first tC
mind when looking on her. There
were butterflies in the mellow glow
east and sitting in through the COO
trees adrip with dew. but she was
more alive thar they.
AT sight of her. a-tiptoe by q lilac
bush and reaching UP for one of its
choicest blossoms. the studious con,
%centration left the face Of the man on
the porch and there came over his
features a curious sadnesS-a sadness
touched with fire, as if within him had
suddenly fiared up some desperate
battle of the soul.
The girl had heard the step on the
porch. With the coveted blossom in
her hand at last, she placed it with
the others, and turned with a smile OF
sensible f%rankness.
The precise and studious %concentra,
ton instantly returned to the eyes be
hind the spectacles, the stOop came
back to the capable shoulders, and
with the quick, mincing step that was
as much a part of him as the frock
coat and neck stock. he came down of
the porch and joined her.
With the stately and somewhat pom.
derous courtesy of seventy years ago
he had taken the shears. begging to
be allowed to cut the flowers, when
the slam of a gate drew their eyes to
the back of the yard. The old banker
was just coming from the barn. his
step leaving the rumpled trail in the
gray dew of the lawn, his rugged face
apparently full Of its accustomed
strength and color. .s
"W'y, father, l expected you'd stay
In bed a while this morning yet, after
that-fainty spell the other night.
Bed! No place fr a well nan after
daylight"-he pulled himself up to the
last inch of his gaunt height stretched
up his arms filed his chest with the
~dew-washed air; expelled it with an
explosive exclamation that scared a
couple of blackbirds in the branches
above; and the crags and b]attlements
of his grim old face smOothed them,
selves out into an expression as neal
as they could come to a smi5e-"an
/ am a well man-fit as a fiddle"
"But, father, you don't think OF
goin' to the-office t'day?'
Jaw, ! reckon y'u'd all Far up If
did"
I'm so glad-and won't 1t be nice t
have y'u at home all day ag'in!
wish y'u never would go back t that
horrid Of Office ag'in."
The old man put his arm around her
and patted her shoulder.
You're a good gal, Texie. | dunno
what y'ur oil father would do without
y'u, now that-that-"
He stopped; let his eyes stray UP
the river and far into the east, all