“I have’ come to ask if. you will
tuke me over to Peribonka tomorrow
and help me arrange for a little plot
of ground,” she suid, tightening her’
hands in her lap. “My mother loves
Peribonka. In so many ways it hag
reminded her of the village where
she wus born and from which my fa-
ther brought her to America. We
hive dreumed of living there some
day, for I love [t, too. Now that
mether is going to dle, she wants to
he buried there. Tomorrow T want to
conse fora place in the cemetery, a8
meni the river as possible, She told
ie today just avhere she would Ilke
to rest, In a little corner that was
overgrown with wild honeysuckle
when we were there last. She is so
mira to get it, so happy and smiling
pud unafraid Jn planning for it—so
vonderfal—such a mother—that last
nicht I asked God to let me die and
vo with her”

Looking into her bravely clear and
terrless eyes, Paul felt himself, for a
moment, unable to answer her, Then
he said: :

“We will go tomorrow, Carla,
it will be a Iong time before anything

peat
a

“We Will Go Tomorrow, Carla, But
it Will Bea Long Time Before Any-
thing. Happens.” Moth le ;

happens. It may be—Jt won't happen
at all. Doctors:are not infallible.
Sometimeg—"
Carla smiled at him.
gratitude transfigured her face. —
“Thank you,” she said gently. “Tt

But

Tae

children.

ls

oe

Jam
~— Oliver
& Curwood

VAN.
arvice}

Httle shock.

“Please don’t. I must have the work

—the pleasure—the inspiration of the
Mother wants it that way,
too. Bhe sits in her: window, and I
can see her from the scheolhouse,
and we wave our hands at each other
every little while. She can see the
children, and they are always think-
ing about her, Even during hours they
don't forget. You see, they are as
much mother's as mine, and we cannot
turn them over to Miss Wixom. Moth-,
er and I need them, You won't send
for Miss Wizom—uniil it is neces-
sary?"

tiNo,”

As she rose from her chair she took
the picture of Paul's wife from the
desk and stood looking at it with her
back turned to the light coming through
the window. ‘Thus Paul vould see
them both—the profile of Carla, her
exquisitely cut features, the grace and.

. beauty of her head, and his wife smill-

ing up at her out of the picture.
After a moment Carla smiled gently in

return,

“When is she coming home?” ske
asked.

“7 don’t know. She doesn't keep
me in touch with her plans, Some-.
tlme before Christmas, I think.”

‘He wondered why the note of. bit-
terness persisted in’ coming into. his:
yoice when he spoke of his wife. It
annoyed him. He tried to keep it
back. Yet it would come out.

"She lilkes to surprise me,” he ndded,
walking sreund the end of his desk
to stand beside Carla. “When the
time comes I will get a telegram from
her snying she ig on board ship or ju
New York. ‘Home, Paul,’ she said last
thme. “‘When.are you coming to see
me? I wish she loved children as
you loye them.”

“AN women love children,” replied
Cora mysterfously-

“No, she doesn't, T've wanted a lot
of them, Boys, mostly, Claire could
be such a wonderful mother.”

“She will be, some day,” said Carla.
“Tl saw the painting of {t In her face

, When she wus here, and I'see It now

—shinIng In her eyes—in this picture.
She hus a soul ag deep as the sea, Mr.
Kirke, and she must love children t”

She replaced the picture on the
desk, and Paul helped her again with
her raincoat,

‘“May I go with you?” he asked.
“Like the children, I leve your

' mother,”

gives me greater courage.to know that ©
you are hoping for me like that. My.”

mother says the doctors are wrong.
That is why “I- want to go to-Perl-
honka tomorrow.-“Mother wants to be
with meas. long ag she can, but she
insista- that ‘the time. ts;véry~short,

much shorter than the’ doctors have

snid.”

“You believe that?"

"] must,” Carla wad looking beyond
him, as if in the distance were a vision
which it would be Impossible for him
to Bee, “T try not to belleve, but it

-comies-over me, and, holds. me. At isn't

just fear." ve trop

“] am..' going to. “welte ‘for Miss
~~ Wixom toicome and: take charge, of the,

children,”*! said Paul. “You, must be

with your. mother" without interrup-
tion.” ' ,

Carla drew herself together with a

‘prable

-hat and; goat. ,

“Oohr

The word escaped her lips, and the
eagerness of {tf made his heart tingle.

“You mean that? You are not say-
‘ing it just to be good to me? You-

Hier look of love ‘my mother?’

“Yes. Next to my own mother, who’:
has been away from me so long.”
He. could not understand what he
‘saw in her face. Jt was as if:a
flame had suddenly thrown a glow

‘wpon it,

. They went. out. into the rain, and on
the narrow cinder path Carla’s arm
touched ‘Paul's,- A soothing and pleas:
@ sensation accompanied - the
gentle pressure. of It, and he glanced
down‘ at her head near his shoulder;
imprisoned in its hood, . He could see
the silken mesh of. her long lashes

- gathering the.rain milst..

- A few minutes later the mother wel,
somed ‘im ‘from -her ‘chair near the.
‘window, ° from which she conld see
Carla's gchool. Carla had taken his,
A. new “spirit, -had en-
tered -the, honse with | her, She. was
amiling, kissed her. mother, chirraped
a few notes to a bird In a cage as she
went for a moment Into the kitchen,
What a magnificent fight! The cot-
taye wis filled with birds and flowers,

‘btrning: -

| What beauty grew id those out-of-the-

‘the struggle of life behind. it to give it

-knew that -Carla’s father had died

‘tea and served little cakes,

gers pressed his hand s# Ittle con-

ih
Oiit whore Cirle had ‘fori! a cahary..
was singing, <A sleepy cat was pur-:
Ting on a cushion at Mra. Haldan'’s
feet. :In a small grate a fire was
Conteniment: and ‘happiness,
abd not the shadow, of death, seemed
triumphant about. him.

Mrs. Haldan was the soul of this
cheer. Twenty-five years in America
had taken from her the ruggedness of
her native’ mountains bat had left the
spirit of their beauty. She looked at
Paul with the’same eyes that Carla
had. Her hatr,wag heavy, Hke Carla's,
and almost white. Paul had a vision
of her back {n-her mountains, a quar-
ter of a ‘century before. How much
she must have looked itike Carla then!

way places, like flowers lost in rugged
rock crevices, with ages of history and

character. A beauty with indestruct-
ible memories along with other things.
Memory of. love, most of all. He

twenty years before, but one could
always see him clearly in the eyes
of Carla's mother, and when she
telked about him it was as though
he had gone away on a little visit
only yesterday,

Carla would be like that One love,
one man, forever,

There was no pretense in her moth-
er’s gladness that he had come. They
visited for an hour, and Carla made

Never had Paul seen Carla so beau-
tiful -ags during this wonderful hour
he spent with her mother. When he
was about to leave, and stood with
her alone for a few moments, It
seemed to him he could feel the throb-
bing of her body: near him. Her fin-

vulsively when he said good-by.
“You have made me happier than I
have been In a long time,” she sald.
The words repeated themselves in
his inind after he had gene. No wom-
an had ever told bits that he had
made her happy, except his mother.
Carla—and his mother, He took a
long walk in the rain—up through the
jack pines into the heavier evergreen
timber, where the drizzle penetrated
‘only in o mist—and. the, two women
walked at his side. Then his wife
jolned them. Three wonderful women:
his. mother, Carla, his wife—with a
fourth waiting for death back in her
chair. The world must forever con-
tinue to be beautiful with such women
in It, It was Clalre, his wife, who
turned him about and took him back
to Derwent’a home. He talked about
her that evening. But he said nothing
about the other three. They were
locked In his heart, and It seemed
sacrilege to open the door upon them,

CHAPTER Iv

The next day was Saturday, and
Panl started for Perlbonka early in
the morning with Carla, Bad weather

autumnal. sunshine and warmth. He
was. flad. the rain-soaked sand and
clay made a horse and buggy neces-
enary. Carla was different, had grown.
different overnight, The beauty which
had come into her face when he was
with her mother had not disappenred
to leave. It so. tense and strained
again, . She seemed nearer to him, tn-
finitely | more dependent than yester-

“anych a. thing ag that emotion left {n
her) life

They crossed the great blueberry
“hurna,” with miles and miles of fiat,
wild country about them, reaching
toward the lnke.on one-side and the
-Hmbered wilderness on the other.
Only at wide intervala was there a
habltaxt’s hone, ond they met no one
on the sticky. ‘yoad.’ Hiven thia barren-
ness Paul loved. He talked to Carla
about -the country. All nature, no
toatter how’ desolate it might appear
to others,, was” ‘beautiful to him, he
gald: Nature’ “could not make a deso-
Jation that was mot beautiful, and
never was there u jarring note In its
handiwork. . Because. most humans

of.a fire-bluckened stub or the. en-

was not préof that ‘Nature had made
an “error,” It! was “merely © evidence
“at ‘niost human eyes were blind.
In” a mandy plicd he got out and
gut ‘bubties “weighted heavily with
binebertles, . and :they plucked the
luscious frblt from’ the same ‘stems

-man had loved it.

oyer. ,, Lhe small

own,

‘had given way.at last to. glorious |

_ories,

day, uud happier—it there could be |:

‘could not see the beauty and pathos

chanting” Mystery ofa dormant pond,
her. with’ ‘him:

and ate It as they ‘de along. Tt was,

almost happiness, Only the grim

a

on

thing, shadowlig ‘them kept : “It. ‘From |
being: ‘that, .and even this shadow:

‘geemed_to fold Its wings for fiasbing’

moments. It grew warm, and, with
the habit of ,her mother’s people,
Carla bared her head to let the alr
stir in her hair, Paul looked at it,
with the restless desite in ‘him grow-
ing stronger, It was ilways so smooth’
and soft, with its silky coils so grace-
fully fitting her head, . that. it’ seemed
a toss of: something : precions: not to
touch. Its beauty. He thought of what
Luey-Belle had told her hushand-—ot
the love story in Carla's life. Some
Some man had put
his hand upon it. As their road, came
Into green. timber and he listened to
Carla’s voice telling him that in, her:
own heart was'a love for: Nature so
great that slie would never IHve-in a
eity again. he wordered what it was
that had spoiled her romiuice so that
she would never cure. for any other
man or marry. a

‘They cane to Peribonkn, and Maria
Chapdelaine set them» luncheon In the
old-fashioned little dining room over-
looking ber garden, with its luxuriant
erray of vegetables and flowers. She
admired Carla, and brought in a little
girl she had adopted to show her what
loveliness one might come. ta possess
if one lived right. Carla was a bit
embarrassed, and Paul deligited, by
such ardent. and, frankly spelen: ap-
proval. Sumuel ‘Chapdelaine, - tall,
thin, and the main prop of Perlbonka’s
ehureh choir, Joined them at the table
for a visit; and after a time Paul took
him aside and explained his mission.
They went up the street together, and
when they returned the businéss was
square of ground
with its wild honeysuckle vines be-
Janged to Carla.

He ‘took her to see it after they said
good-by to the Chnpdelaines, and when
they stood over It, looking down at the
tiver, he saw tears in Carla’s eyes-
for the first time since he had known
her, She made no movement to hide-
them or wipe them away when she
smiled her gratitude nt him, He held
ont his hand, and. she gave him her
He held it for a few moments,
and nelther broke the silence which
fell between them os ‘they walked

“down tha foorworn” path and, through

the picket gate.

An {mpulge which neither attempted
to voice held them for a time in
Peribonka, They went down to the
river’s edge and stood where they

could see the hirds splashing water.

over themselves on the sandbars,
They saw the dumpy little twice-a-
week boat from across the lake’ un-
loading goods for the villngera and
habitants at its dilapidated wharf.
On the opposite shore, close to the
wayside, was: a shrine. They could
gee its crags from where they stood,
with the sun shining on It,

When they were ready to go Paul,
felt ns if te were leaving something | °
fn Perlbanka, Just as the warmth of: |

Carla’s hand: had tefl something ‘in.
his heart, Carla, Peribonka, the: little

i: ereture ~~

. Ne tectér—ner
golden beauty a part of the blue of
epen skies, a thing near and wonder-
ful for him to have. But when he
went out Into the night ‘and* looked
at the row of lighted cottages on the
hill he thought of Carla, and a yearn-'
ing to be near her: possessed him
again.

. This impulse bewildered him. He
went -to hig ‘bachelor’ quarters and
tried to read.- One by one the houses @&
grew dark, Still he- endeavored to.
make his books and magazines inter-
est him. Nevér had his oerves been
More sleevplessiy alert, and their ob-’
letinacy -ipersisted:-after. he. had un-
‘dressed and gone to bed. Something
"kept him ‘awake—an incessant stream
tof thinss passing through his mind,
‘detached, “illogical, unreasonable, and
-always bringing him back in one way

or another to Citta and her mother.
“He got up and dressed, . [t was ufter
midnighL Over the: pit hung an fle |
_tuminatlore - whieh ‘reuched up. Into the
"sky ‘Hike ‘the glow from ‘a volenno,
He turned down the cinder path and @
‘wos soon aniong the men, No one
was on the Joh who did not know him,
even in. the night shifts, Many of §
them spoke to’ him tonight, but.thetr q
: friendliness . failed to wipe awey the
disquiet: of mind which had compelled
him to get out ‘of bed. Ee looked at
his wateh and found I(t was ove
o'clock when he reached the far end
of the workings. A gravel-made road
‘led to the forest trail higher up, and
he took this road out of the pit.
After a Uttle he enme to the row
of cottages. There was a light In the
Haldan home, and he found himself
wondering what Carla, did with. the aj
leng nights tn which she’ waited for Sim
the coming of death. Was it possible gam
for her to sleep? Or did she sit
alone through dragging hours watch- @
ing her mother, praying for the day? §
He stopped at the gute to the picket
fence which enclosed her flower gar- @@
dens, and his ears, caught a sound #
whieh did not come from the pit, It
was like a ery. | He. opened the gate Sam
quietly and. went in. A window wis
open somewhere, and he “éould hear
clearly a yoice that was ‘sobbing. It

plat of ground—they would be ag une.)

forgettable ag Mrs, Haeldan’s mem-.,

rotle back through the afternoon, He

Jie’ thought of. thip as they: |

thought of it later when he stoud in | as ee

his ofilce ngain, and looked down upon,

the smash and grind of machinery in |.
Jt troubled. tin and made |’

the pit..
him restless, and unengy. This day,
burned deeply inte hia lite, ‘seemed
unreal now that it “wh over. It" was

as if an experlence. bed, tuned into a,

dream, a thing of a few’ minutes in-
stend of hours, .

The friendly, faintly smiling gaze
-of his. wite followed him ‘about the
room.. He answered her letter that
evening,-and in his pages to her his
freshly roused emotions found thelr
volce. He told about the tragedy In
Carla's life, of their Journey to Perl-
bonka, and of the littie plot of ground
In the cemetery. Writing in his office,

with hig wife's face looking at him,

it was not difficult for him to let the
floods pour out,. Just as he. had un-
leashed them once or twice before in
his six.years of married Itfe with her,
He was a man, wanting a woman, He
wanted his wife. He did not want

her An. Europe. or Egypt or waiting for |

him, in a ‘palace at home. He wanted

Woman, It wad a letter of love, of
arlgen hope, of vislonings—to his wife,
Carla waa the inspiration of. It. .
Ha esenled and addressed the letter

ani pul it in the company’s mail,..
Whit a | elory life would be tf his wife
ere? aaa! ‘tat Vivek t

Tha he df uipde tid

He told: ‘her this as
tenderly as a man ¢ould write to An:

. : : | rey
Lopes, Se ie
wes at a

It Was Carla! No One Else In the Cou a
tage Could Be Crying Like That.

was Carla! No one else in the coq
tnge could be erying Uke that—surel
not Carla's mother, His heart thump
ngainst his ribs. His breath came
little short. He went to tie door a :
knocked against it gently. Then mong
loudly, Some one came, and the douli
opened. He. entered and stood best iim
Carla, She had not been In bed, bia
not undressed, -She-was' as he hi
_ left. her. hours before, except that hd
face and eyes were stricken with @
grief that terrified him. Then, In thi
iim light, a miracle happened. Siggy
smiled at him through teats. “I wal
hontnge for wou.” ahe said.

- Continued. N ext Week

Rev. TH. Wright, L.A, B.D., forma
pastor in this district in-ehayge of tJ
work of the’ United Oburch, was 1%
cently the giest-spenker at a Frand
Willard. Day commemoration functit
held in Naniamo,: ‘necouling tothe Hell
ald of that. ety,’ Revs My, Wright al
was ehfel speukey at the Indian churg
atespocdil ‘pvangellstle seLY ices for se

eral ser ¥ leon,