Mrs. Wilson Woodrow

“ Frances, too, arose, as the afternoon was growing late, and there was still something she intended to do.
"You're awful good to stay with me so long," said Lutie gratefully. "You'll come often, won't you? Why, Miss Benson, I just felt drawn to you the first moment I saw you; but you didn't like me at first, did you? No," shaking her head, "you didn't. You kind o' drew back from me, I could see it. I suppose," with the effort to appreciate another point of view, "that to anyone that looks at things like you got to, being a Missionary—it seems awful for people not to be married. ”

“ Walt bought me jewels and everything, and I always did love pretty things, but I didn't seem to get well. The doctors said it would take a long time, 'cause I'd had such bad treatment. But do you know, Miss Benson," lifting piteous eyes, "I ain't never spoke of this to anybody but you; I don't even like to think of it, 'cause it makes me so unhappy; but even at first, spite of his being so good to me and all, I had a kind of an idea that Walt didn't really love me. I don't believe he really loves me now; he just feels sorry for me." ”

“ As he gradually comprehended her simple explanations of her presence—she was a neighbour and had heard that he was ill—he ventured gruff and shamefaced remonstrance, and would evidently have been well pleased to have her leave him; but, unheeding his protests, she continued to build the fire, tidy up the cabin, and prepare his breakfast in so matter-of-fact a way, with so few words, and a demeanour of such calm cheerfulness, that the wretched and forlorn man was visibly heartened and encouraged. ”

“ Crazy! I'm gettin' better every day. Adams was an awful nice man, though. He told me all about the opera and the theatres and all, and he says there ain't a society woman in Denver that's got jewels that can touch mine. Oh, how nice you feel!" She held Frances's cool, firm hands between her own moist, restless palms, and then laid them against her fevered cheek. "Oh, you don't know how you rest me! I can breathe easier the minute you come into the room."
"Then rest," urged Frances, drawing a chair beside her. "I shall be here for two or three hours. Try and sleep a little, Lutie." ”

“ You can't spend it as fast as it pours in, child, no matter how hard you try."
His face had fallen again into its sad, granite-like repose, and Frances apprehended in some way that he brooded over the thought of how little his wealth could really bring him. Meeting her glance suddenly, he smiled, and then gazed at her keenly. She looked a little tired. "Come, Miss Benson," he said, rising, "I want you to see my library; Lutie has been exhibiting her jewels, now I want you to see mine."
"Yes, go," urged Lutie. "Maybe you like books ”

“ Say," with a return of animation, "did I tell you that that big doctor said there wasn't a woman in Denver had stones that's a patch on mine? He ought to know, oughtn't he? I guess if he only knew it, there's mighty few of 'em that's got the clothes I got, either. Did Ethel tell you about the big box that come the other night? Hats and evening wraps an' dresses an' everything. Ethel went crazy over 'em, like she always does, an' then she remembered her conscience and wouldn't look at them any more. I call that silly, don't you? I wish Walt would come, I want him to show you some of 'em. ”

“ It's about all I care for. I'm a pretty busy man. I've got a lot of interests that require almost constant looking after; but I've got to read, I suppose," with a smile, "that I take my reading as some men do drugs. Well," rising reluctantly, "I must go."
"And I will see Mrs. Garvin this afternoon soon after two."
"Thank you," he said again. "Good-bye."
After he had closed the door behind him Frances sat with her chin on her hand, looking rather vaguely before her. The first time she had seen Garvin she had regarded him as a man with a strong, plain face. Strong it assuredly was ”

“ I got a new box last night, but they are mostly scientific works." He purposely strove to prolong the conversation, the rest that her little room afforded him, the easing of unceasing nervous tension, the content that swept over him, made him realise that he was a desperately tired man.
"You are very fond of reading, are you not?"
He drew his hand across his brow. "Yes—oh, yes. ”