THE WEST SHORE.
11
But what need to lengthen my story with amhute
account of that long, long fight with heart-break and
death? Suffice it to say that the new year had run
its first quarter, and the buds of springtime were
swelling, when once again Leonie Desmond was
strong enough to leave her bed, and, with the aid of
the protecting arm that had never failed her for a
single hour through all that time of sorrow, to come
down stairs and try once more to take up the burden
of every day existence.
She looked so white, so fragile, so like a Hake of
snow that might vanish with a breath, that Allan
Kirke, standing and looking down upon her, remem
bering all she had suffered and was still suffering, felt
tears of pity well up into his eyes, and, lest she
should perceive his weakness, bent down and touched
her hair, as reverently as he would have stroked the
green sod above his mother's grave.
" Little girl," he said, " do you know of what you
remind me?" She glanced at him with a faint, wist
ful, pathetio smile, and shook her head. " A bit of
thistle-down," he said, " iloating just beyond my
reach, and ready, at a careless touch or a chill breath,
to vanish into the blue nothingness of space."
A few days later, chancing to find her alone when
he came in, he was both startled and glad when she,
for the first time, spoke to him directly of her trouble,
" Doctor Kirke," she said, " can you sparo mo a
moment of your time? There is a question I must
ask you."
lie came at once and sat down beside her. " I
would cheerfully devote a month of my time to you if
by so doing I can lift one iota of the burden from
your poor little heart," ho said, and then waited in si
lence until she could speak.
" Ilave you received any word from from him
since he went away?" she faltered.
" None whatever, neither directly nor indirectly,"
ho replied.
" Uavo you written to him?" she queried, with
her questioning eyes searching his face.
" I have not I thought best not to act indopen
dently of your instructions. If I have your permis
sion, I will write to him at once,"
" If you will copy this and send it to hira in your
name, without adding a syllable to it, I will bo deeply
obliged."
lie unfolded the bit of paper and read:
To Aktiii k Pkhvo.M),
Melbourne, Australia.
Sir:- Feeling that you may tvlU. un-W t v-ry riou
mieapprvheriaion, I take thin im-ana of iuU'.ului you lUt yra
wife, Ionie lrnon.l, U alive an-1 in kirly health.
1. Aiu Kint,
l'yrtlan J, Oregon.
lie arose, without a word, to comply with her re
quest; but she also arose, and laid her hand upon his
arm detainingly.
" Ono moment, doctor," sho said. " Will you giro
mo your promiso never to writo a lino to him without
my knowledge and consent? "
" Certainly I will, most freely," ho answered. M I
havo neither tho right nor tho wish to communicate
with him, except at your command."
" I thank you," sho murmured, and sank down
again, weakened and trembling from tho momentary
excitement
" My bravo little woman," ho said, in gentlo ap
proral, touching lightly tho hand that had lain for a
moment on his arm.
" If tho scoundrel waits for cringing, pleading ap
peals from her, ho will not como back very swn, 8h
is clear grit, thauk heaven," ho mused, as ho sat in
his study and copied tho few terso lines sho had given
him.
Later in tho day, as ho was preparing to go out,
sho gave him a letter to post When ho took it from
his jacket, afterward, to drop it In tho Ux, ho would
havo Im'od less or moro than human had ho not glanced
at tho subscription. It was, " Itov. Alfred 0. Hell,
Kector St Church, Fredericksburg, Canada
West"
Three weeks later ho brought to her, ono evening,
a letter post-marked "Fredericksburg, Canada Went"
Sho opened it in tho presence of hi siater and him
self, and, handing it to him, said, in a voice that was
eloquent with feeling
" My dear friends, you havo naked of mo no cre
dentials; you havo opew-d to rno your hearts ami
homo in tho face of a cloud that would havo cloaM
tho door of many a Chriatian houso against me; you
havo dono for mo everything, and aakd of mo noth
ing. Because I havo Ix-en sih-nt, I trust you have not
thought mo unappreciative. II five a grant that I
may, in timo to come, bo ablo to prove my gratitude
At tho present, tho moat I can do is to giro you proof
of my innocenco of any intentional wrong doinK'.
That proof, so far a my connection with Arthur !)
mond is concerned, you will find here, l'j'aso read it"
" I will do to U'caotQ you wiah it," ho replied,
with scarcely leas emotion thau a ho erincd, "but I
require no such proof to rtfuto anything derogatory
to you. Tho itoprca of a itainh a4 soul is sUmj- d
ujon your fax, and is viaiblo in your every act"
At h-M words sho bowed her head ar:d give way
to tho first tears ho had known her to ih d through
all her trouble.
The litter was brief, but very much to tho point
It i&id-