Democratic Sentinel, Volume 16, Number 42, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 4 November 1892 — A WOMAN'S INFLUENCE [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

A WOMAN'S INFLUENCE

BY LULU JAMISON

. M,n CHAPTKH XX, BRIAN'S PRESCRIPTION. “I believe I am thoroughly tired out, Margaret. I have had a very hard day’s ■work.” Margaret turned from her book as Brian entered the room with these words. “Have you?” she asked. “How nice you will And your well-earned rest. See, your chair is waiting tor you.” “It shall not be empiy a minute longer. It is wondertully comfortable. Sit there, won't you? I like to see your face: it rests me." “Then I may consider myself useful, as well as ornamental,” she laughed, wondering why the rebellious color should fly to her face in such a disagreeable wuy. “When did you get my message, Margaret?” he asked. “About 4 o'clock, I think. I was sorry you could not come home to dinner. You have had some, of course?" “I had an apology for one,” he returned. “I hadn’t time for any other; so many important cases brought in today. This hospital practice is worth a great deal to me, I, tell you. I was getting rusty, and it has polished me up considerably. I suppose Miss Hilton left, as she intended?” “She went early this afternoon.” This answer was given with a faltering voice. “Dear Margaret,” ho said with feeling, “I knov how you will miss her. I wish you would let me comfort you. Don’t go away. “Only ijor a few miputes,” she answered hastily. “I am coming back.” True to her promise she returned quickly, with a small tray in her hand. “Only some cake and coffee,” she said, “to make up for that apology tor a dinner. I made the coffee. Do you, think you will like it?” “Will I? Its fragrance is sufficiently tempting." Brian jumped from his chair, and took the tray from Margaret’s hands. “I’m just beginning to realize that lam hungry. You will help me to drink it?”

“Of course,” laughed Margaret. “I want to show my appreciation of culinary ability. Norah thinks I will be quite a finished cook in time. This is nice, and if we had some Elmwood cream it would be all to be desired. You like it? lam glad. I want you to tell me now the cause of your serious face. It looked ever so long when I came in.” “I am the least bit anxious about you. I fear you are losing the old strength you used tp boast of. Don’t shake your head so decidedly, I see with an experienced eye. I saw how that ring slipped about when you were pouring this coffee, and seven months ago, when I put it there, Margaret, It was very tight and snusr. I want to see It so again. You need the country breezes. I know that Elmwood is the magical medicine which your cash demands, and if I prescribe it, I don’t believe you will find it so bitter to take. ” “And you?” she asked, after a moment’s silence. “That is to be just as you say, Margaret. "" “Then,” she returned with a radiant face, “we will both go home.” When Wilson learned of this decision, “ The fascinations of New York have been exercised in vain,” he declared. “I think you will find something to regret when you have gone from us. Still I am sure you w.ll realize a much needed benefit, and in view of that I must be glad that you will so soon enjoy the pleasure of the country. I hope you will not quite forget ns.” “I will never forget you,” was the impulsive answer. “The service you have rendered Brian I cannot even realize, much less thank you for. The most I can do is to give you a place among the friends I cherish most highly. Brian and I will hope to see you quite often. I know you will like Elmwood. It is so beautiful. I never knew how much I longed to see it until this momont. I beliove I haven’t dared to think. The other day I took a long ride on the Madison avenue cars, just for something to do, and when we got out in the nineties there was a real little bit of country before U 3. I could not stay in the car. The sun really seemed so much brighter; and when I heard the hens and saw the ducks and geese walking along the narrow pavements I wanted to sit down and cry. ” Wilson smiled. “Did you think better of the impulse?” he questioned. “Oh, yes. Fortunately, I came upon a woman sitting on the grass with the whitest, fattest baby I almost ever saw. I adore babies, and I began to admire that one extravagantly. The mother was delighted, and by way of recompense, I presume, gave me a detailed history of the seven fatter and whiter ones which had preceded this one. By the time she finished I had forgotten that l ever wanted to cry.” “So the baby proved an effective antidote. You were very fortunate in your meeting. Now. I believe I must hurry away. I could only steal a moment just to run in to say good-by. ” “I don’t believe you have stayed that moment,” complained Margaret, “and I am sure If you were very anxious you could stretch it just the least bjt. Brian will be so sorry not to have seen you. Are you so very busy. Doctor?" “Well, rather,” was the half hesitating reply. “Summer is near at hand, and that is a time of wretchedness for the unfortunate poor. I wish we had a larger corps of free doctors. We certainly need them in those crowded, mis erabie districts, where the white crape and tiny hearses tell their own story of suffering and death. I have brought a shadow to your face; I Will say no more.” “You are merely giving me a glimpse of the other side of life,” she. said thoughtiully. “I find the contrast, as usual, sad and strong. I wish the world was different. I wish we lived under Bellamy’s order of things.” Wilson smiled. “I fear such order is too Utopian ever to be realized,” he answered. “Perhaps, though I dare say Are you really going? Well, then I must say good-by. I hope it is not necessary for me to repeat the assurance, that Elmwood always holds a welcome for you. I thank you lor your good wishes, and I wish you to remember that I appreciate more than I have pr-wer to express the—happiness you have helped to give me. ” “No more," Bald Wilson, with painful abruptness. “My service is not worth ».uoh mention.” Without another word he pressed her

hand and was gone, leaving her rather surprised at his unusual manner. CHAPTBK XXI. ELMWOOD AGAIN. Margaret had finished her breakfast, and even after Brian thad left she still pat over the table, her heart filled with •sweet content, and her eyes dim with the happy tears that shut from her vision the familiar ob'ects about her. For she was home. Home in dear old Elmwood. And now, after eating what she declared to Brian to be her biggest breakfast in three months, she wanted to sit Still and feast her eyes upon the'smooth green lawns where the bright sun sifted Itself through a luxuriant network of green branches, and the lilac and the hawthorn were bursting into a breath of fragrant flowers, and say to herself it is good to be here. She repeated the same words to Brian when he came in at luncheon, and he, looking at her face, almost marveled at the change that had come over it. “I dare say, you are right, Margaret; it is good for you to be here. I don’t believe I exaggerate when I declare that thiere is already some color in your cheeks. What have you been doing with yourself this morning?” “I don’t believe I can begin to tell you. First, there was so much to talk about With Mrs. Davis. We have been laying l our heads together and evolving some delightful plans. You will see the results after awhile; an:l then, this afternoon I must go to The Cedars. I am pining for a sight of the Colonel.” “And he, no doubt, is pining fora sight of you. I suppose that will complete your happiness.” “As nearly as it can be completed. Do you remember how we left Elmwood, Brian, under the chill and cold of winter, and we return to it in the joy of a glad resurrection? I accept it as an omen, and I am—very happy.” She left the table with these words and walked to the open window. Brian followed her. “Let me share your happiness,” he said, in a low voice. “Darling, the pro“ bation has been very long. ” He slipped his hand about her waist, and drew her to the verania outside. “You remember our compact? I shall keep it—be sure of tha't—until the day' comes that you shall bid me break it. And it will come, Margaret, as certainly as we both stand here. You will find me very patient until I have won my victory, for I feel that even the price which Jacob paid lor Bachel is not too dear to pay for you. Now, may I tell you what I have been doing to-day?” “Yps; I shall like very much to hear.” Mur ii t 1 i . • ■<<

“ Well, I have been taking with Dr. Philips. I wish you would let me see your face, Margaret, it will be more encouraging than your back. There, that Is better; thank you. I saw Dr. Philips, as I said, and i told him of my wish to build up a practice here. Just as I expected, he feels his advancing years, and will be very glad es a young assistant. He is delighted to help the son of his old partner, he tells me. So you see lam particularly fortunate. I can step right into his shoes, and, though I may find them very large ” “You will grow," put in Margaret, glad of this new turn to the conversation-. “And I am very much pleased,” she added, more gravoly. “So am I. It is the first step toward winning fay wife. ” A half hour later Margaret was sitting in the chair of honor in Alice's rooms, half-laughing, half-crying, and trying to ask and answer questions in the same breath. “I’m going to keep you a few minutes all to myself,” declared Alice, “because I have so much to tell you, Margaret. So much I could pniy hint at it in my letters. I could not express one-half the happiness I longed for you to share. ” “I am so glad, dear,” Margaret answered. “So very glad for you and for Bertie, roll me all about it now.” It was fully fifteen minutes before Alice sent the message telling her uncle that Margaret was there. It brought the Colonel in very quick time. “Oh, Colonel,” she' cried, and the'next second she was folded in his arms. “Back again, Margaret. I am so glad, child. This time we mean to keep you. Bless your dear heart; it does my eyes good to see you. Even though you have grown so thin and your face is white as our own snow-balls.”

“Colonel, you hurt my vanity. I shall grow wonderfully fat and well in a few weeks. You won’t know me. Brian thinks I have some color already.” “Brianl Let Brian go to the devil! I beg your pardon, my dear. I see I have horrified you. I am not overpleased with Brian, as you may guess. I dare say you find excuses for the scamp, however. I am glad ho has some grace left. You women can usually manage men. I was getting ready to come and shoot him, but I must acknowledge that your method has been more effectual.” “He is growing tired of doing nothing,” she answeied, without meeting the Colonel’s glance, “and he has decided to practice his profession here. I dare say he will become as highly respected as dear uncle Stephen was.” “Highly respected! Fiddlesticks! There it is again, Margaret. The outcome of prejudice, most probably. I beg your paidon a second time, and predict that Brian will become all that you want to make him. If he doesn’t I’ll " “Shoot him, I suppose,” put in Margaret, with laughing eyes. “That would be a fatal blow to my hope 3. I beg you you will spare me the humiliation of failure. And please give Brian credit on his own account.” “Certainly, my dear, all he deserves; though I must add that I don't consider the demand excessive. Alice, isn’t that that your rascally husband bawling down-stairs? I hope you have no intention of going to him. Let him use his long legs and come up to you. ” “He is using them," obseived Margaret, smiling at the long, heavy strides ascending the steps. “Alice, don’t be jealous, please, if I say that Bertie is one of the nicest men in this world.” “Thanks for the compliment, which wasn’t intended for my ears. I just heard from jour groom that you had condescended to honor us with a v.sit.” And Bertie burst into the room. “It is so natural to find you here,” he added. “Father feels ten years younger from your very presence. And you are looking better much better than when I saw you last, though you might still be the original of Tennyson’s ‘O rare, pale Margaret.’ ” “Nonsense,” interrupted the Colonel, rather testily. “Don’t be a tool, Bertie. What a long tongue you have." “You see, Margaret,” observed Bertie, with laughing eye 3, “my appreciative father still allows his admiration of my talents to surprise him into little affectionate speeches. You must not think anything of it. He is very proud of me.” “Humph!” was the contemcuous reply, at which Margaret and Alice laughed. Throughout the visit the cheerful badinage continued, and when sho was ready to go home, after not a little pressure to stay longer, Ber ie declared his intention of rid ng with her. "It was so good of you to come,” she said, after they had left The Cedars

and he had expressed his pleasure In Brian’s changed conduct. “You knew I had something to say to you.” “Your eyes tell all your secrets, Margaret What Is that something?” “ Can you not guess? It affects Brian and you. You have always been such good friends until very lately, and I am so anxious for those old feelings to be renewed. The circumstanoes of your last meeting were not—very pleasant He will remember this, and perhaps you wUI remember It too. lam going to ask you to forget it When I recall all that you have done for me before, I feel perfectly confident that you will not refush this favor. You understand me, I am sure?” “Understand! Who can fqpl to understand such goodness as yours? When I think of that, it is all the harder to forget the suffering he has caused you. Perhaps I cannot promise, Margaret. ” “Oh, yes, you can. The suffering you speak of may have been of great advantage. I may become the better and the stronger for it. Besides, Brian has struggled and suffered too. You can never know how much. Even I can never know how much. And he is trying now. For that he deserves oredit. I think you will have to do as I wish, Bertie. Indeed, I an* sure you will.” “There, I have nothing more to'say. You always have your way. I dare say we don’t realize what Brian had to overcome before lie won his victory, and as far as my words or actions are concerned, he shall have no reminder of the past.” “Thank you," was the grateful answer. “I never liked you better or admired you more than 1 do now. ” He smiled his response as they turnejl In at the gates of Elmwood. As they approached the door Margaret saw Brian waiting to meet her.' He had evidently not expected to see Bertie, and Margaret noticed a slight embarrassment upon his face. “I have Bertie with me,” she said, riding olose to him. “He has come all the way from The Cedars to see you.” “Little hypocrite.” murmured Bertie under his breath. “Don’t you think it wrong to toil ttb3?” The next second he had assisted her from her horse and turned to Brian. No word passed between them, but their hand-cla-p held a language and a mean* Ing of its own. |TO BE CONTINUED, j