Neith Boyce

“ Travis expressed the feeling of it when he said, quickly:
"You are young, Ysabel, your trouble has come early—but you have almost all your life before you still. Yes, you don't believe it now, but it is so, I hope. You ought to be happy yet! So long as there is something to live for. . . . I thought a little while ago—a few hours ago—that there was nothing more for me. And now there is something—and you have given it to me, Ysabel! . . . If there is anything that I can ever do to make you happier, I will do it."
She rose, and he put the shawl about her and went with her to the door. ”

“ His father hoped to see him in public life. His own life had been spent mainly in making a fortune. He had been born to poverty, and had resolutely lifted himself out of it. He was a man of business, very successful, and he had meant his money to help George's career. And George had not been willing to take the first step toward a career. George had been a complete failure.
As Richard Travis stood, his eyes still fixed on the face of his son, he was conscious that something checked the bitter and passionate current of his thought. ”

“ Travis walked fast, partly because of the cold, partly because his thoughts were disturbed. The idea of Ysabel would intrude itself upon his settled grief.
He was a man who could not bear the idea of a just claim upon him resting unsatisfied. But, strong as was his sense of responsibility, his emotions were stronger. Both had rather a narrow range. He cared for, and felt responsible for, only those beings who were directly connected with himself, who were extensions of his powerful egotism. But a claim upon him for feeling which he could not satisfy was a torment to him. ”

“ She was crushed by her misfortune. Perhaps she had really cared very much for George. This somehow had not occurred to him before, and he felt more kindly toward her and more solicitous about her. After all, in any case her situation was a hard one.
He walked away from the house, ankle-deep in the dry snow, got on the railroad track and walked for some distance along it. Beyond the little clearing, with its few buildings, the woods came down close to the track—mainly scrub pines, low, and casting a dense shadow in the moonlight. ”

“ He was a handsome man, of the type whose harsh lines and dark color are softened by the blanching touch of age. His crisp thick silvery hair, his heavy brows and black eyes, the clear-cut rigidity of his strong mouth, his straight stalwart shoulders, gave him a certain splendor of aspect. His loneliness, too, and silence, the immobility of his look, added to this rather grim distinction. ”

“ He looked at her keenly, yet with a new feeling for her. For the first time he saw that she was charming, that her whole small person was refined, her bearing gentle; and this made his way much easier.
"I want you, Ysabel," he said, "to go home with me. I want you to come to my house and live there. I am all alone. I will do all I can for you—all I can to make you comfortable."
The color came into the girl's face as he spoke, and she shrank back in her chair while he leaned eagerly toward her. ”

“ But when his wife, after giving him one child, had faded into invalidism, he had acquiesced in this limitation. After all, one does not expect too much of women, in bodily or mental strength. Then she had faded out of life, and he had not married again, for he loved her—and there was George, then a brilliant boy of fourteen. George could carry on the family and make the name illustrious once more, as it had been in colonial times. ”

“ After a few moments Travis said:
"Will you take something up to Mrs. Travis? Is there anything I can order for her, anything I can get here, or anywhere, to make her more comfortable?"
"I'll do all I can," Mrs. Sprague answered. "I've made her some chicken soup and jelly, and tried to tempt her appetite a little. But it isn't food nor yet fire that she wants, Mr. Travis."
Then she went out of the room—his supper had been laid in the parlor—and left him to himself.
The air of the place seemed suffocating, the hot mass of coals in the stove throwing out an almost visible heat. ”

“ There was genuine pleading in it.
"There are some things of George's I have to give you," she said, catching her breath. "Some papers, and pictures, and other things that I thought he would want you to have. They are upstairs—" And she half rose, as though to fly.
"You haven't answered," Travis said quickly. "I suppose it's hard for you to decide so suddenly. But, listen, you'll come for a time, at least! Let us leave it that way. And I'll do my best for you. And, you know, Ysabel—the child. ... It will be best for the child, for his education and growing up. . . . ”

“ There was in fact but one marked exception; one man whom no one had even asked to take a hand at whist or poker. He stayed in the smoking-car to smoke, slowly and constantly, one good cigar after another. ”