Mr. Macglowrie's Widow

by Bret Harte

Very little was known of her late husband, yet that little was of asufficiently awe-inspiring character to satisfy the curiosity ofLaurel Spring. A man of unswerving animosity and candidbelligerency, untempered by any human weakness, he had beenactively engaged as survivor in two or three blood feuds inKentucky, and some desultory dueling, only to succumb, through theirony of fate, to an attack of fever and ague in San Francisco.Gifted with a fine sense of humor, he is said, in his last moments,to have called the simple-minded clergyman to his bedside to assisthim in putting on his boots. The kindly divine, although pointingout to him that he was too weak to rise, much less walk, could notresist the request of a dying man. When it was fulfilled, Mr.MacGlowrie crawled back into bed with the remark that his race hadalways "died with their boots on," and so passed smilingly andtranquilly away.It is probable that this story was invented to soften the ignominyof MacGlowrie's peaceful end. The widow herself was also reportedto be endowed with relations of equally homicidal eccentricities.Her two brothers, Stephen and Hector Boompointer, had Westernreputations that were quite as lurid and remote. Her ownexperiences of a frontier life had been rude and startling, and herscalp--a singularly beautiful one of blond hair--had been in perilfrom Indians on several occasions. A pair of scissors, with whichshe had once pinned the intruding hand of a marauder to her cabindoorpost, was to be seen in her sitting room at Laurel Spring. Afair-faced woman with eyes the color of pale sherry, a complexionsallowed by innutritious food, slight and tall figure, she gavelittle suggestion of this Amazonian feat. But that it exercised awholesome restraint over the many who would like to have inducedher to reenter the married state, there is little reason to doubt.Laurel Spring was a peaceful agricultural settlement. Few of itscitizens dared to aspire to the dangerous eminence of succeedingthe defunct MacGlowrie; few could hope that the sister of livingBoompointers would accept an obvious mesalliance with them.However sincere their affection, life was still sweet to the rudeinhabitants of Laurel Spring, and the preservation of the usualquantity of limbs necessary to them in their avocations. Withtheir devotion thus chastened by caution, it would seem as if thecharming mistress of Laurel Spring House was secure from disturbingattentions.It was a pleasant summer afternoon, and the sun was beginning tostrike under the laurels around the hotel into the little officewhere the widow sat with the housekeeper--a stout spinster of acoarser Western type. Mrs. MacGlowrie was looking wearily oversome accounts on the desk before her, and absently putting backsome tumbled sheaves from the stack of her heavy hair. For thewidow had a certain indolent Southern negligence, which in a lesspretty woman would have been untidiness, and a characteristic hookand eyeless freedom of attire which on less graceful limbs wouldhave been slovenly. One sleeve cuff was unbuttoned, but it showedthe blue veins of her delicate wrist; the neck of her dress hadlost a hook, but the glimpse of a bit of edging round the whitethroat made amends. Of all which, however, it should be said thatthe widow, in her limp abstraction, was really unconscious."I reckon we kin put the new preacher in Kernel Starbottle's room,"said Miss Morvin, the housekeeper. "The kernel's going to-night.""Oh," said the widow in a tone of relief, but whether at the earlydeparture of the gallant colonel or at the successful solution ofthe problem of lodging the preacher, Miss Morvin could notdetermine. But she went on tentatively:--"The kernel was talkin' in the bar room, and kind o' wonderin' whyyou hadn't got married agin. Said you'd make a stir in Sacramento--but you was jest berried HERE.""I suppose he's heard of my husband?" said the widow indifferently."Yes--but he said he couldn't PLACE YOU," returned Miss Morvin.The widow looked up. "Couldn't place ME?" she repeated."Yes--hadn't heard o' MacGlowrie's wife and disremembered yourbrothers.""The colonel doesn't know everybody, even if he is a fighting man,"said Mrs. MacGlowrie with languid scorn."That's just what Dick Blair said," returned Miss Morvin. "Andthough he's only a doctor, he jest stuck up agin' the kernel, andtold that story about your jabbin' that man with your scissors--beautiful; and how you once fought off a bear with a red-hot iron,so that you'd have admired to hear him. He's awfully gone on you!"The widow took that opportunity to button her cuff."And how long does the preacher calculate to stay?" she added,returning to business details."Only a day. They'll have his house fixed up and ready for himto-morrow. They're spendin' a heap o' money on it. He ought to bethe pow'ful preacher they say he is--to be worth it."But here Mrs. MacGlowrie's interest in the conversation ceased, andit dropped.In her anxiety to further the suit of Dick Blair, Miss Morvin hadscarcely reported the colonel with fairness.That gentleman, leaning against the bar in the hotel saloon with acocktail in his hand, had expatiated with his usual gallantry uponMrs. MacGlowrie's charms, and on his own "personal" responsibilityhad expressed the opinion that they were thrown away on LaurelSpring. That--blank it all--she reminded him of the blankestbeautiful woman he had seen even in Washington--old MajorBeveridge's daughter from Kentucky. Were they sure she wasn't fromKentucky? Wasn't her name Beveridge--and not Boompointer?Becoming more reminiscent over his second drink, the colonel couldvaguely recall only one Boompointer--a blank skulking hound, sir--amean white shyster--but, of course, he couldn't have been of thesame breed as such a blank fine woman as the widow! It was herethat Dick Blair interrupted with a heightened color and a glowingeulogy of the widow's relations and herself, which, however, onlyincreased the chivalry of the colonel--who would be the last man,sir, to detract from--or suffer any detraction of--a lady'sreputation. It was needless to say that all this was intenselydiverting to the bystanders, and proportionally discomposing toBlair, who already experienced some slight jealousy of the colonelas a man whose fighting reputation might possibly attract theaffections of the widow of the belligerent MacGlowrie. He hadcursed his folly and relapsed into gloomy silence until the colonelleft.For Dick Blair loved the widow with the unselfishness of a generousnature and a first passion. He had admired her from the first dayhis lot was cast in Laurel Spring, where coming from a rudefrontier practice he had succeeded the district doctor in a morepeaceful and domestic ministration. A skillful and gentle surgeonrather than a general household practitioner, he was at firstcoldly welcomed by the gloomy dyspeptics and ague-haunted settlersfrom riparian lowlands. The few bucolic idlers who had relievedthe monotony of their lives by the stimulus of patent medicines andthe exaltation of stomach bitters, also looked askance at him. Acommon-sense way of dealing with their ailments did not naturallycommend itself to the shopkeepers who vended these nostrums, and hewas made to feel the opposition of trade. But he was gentle towomen and children and animals, and, oddly enough, it was to thislatter dilection that he owed the widow's interest in him--aninterest that eventually made him popular elsewhere.The widow had a pet dog--a beautiful spaniel, who, however, hadassimilated her graceful languor to his own native love of ease tosuch an extent that he failed in a short leap between a balcony anda window, and fell to the ground with a fractured thigh. The dogwas supposed to be crippled for life even if that life were worthpreserving--when Dr. Blair came to the rescue, set the fracturedlimb, put it in splints and plaster after an ingenious design ofhis own, visited him daily, and eventually restored him to hismistress's lap sound in wind and limb. How far this dailyministration and the necessary exchange of sympathy between thewidow and himself heightened his zeal was not known. There werethose who believed that the whole thing was an unmanly trick to getthe better of his rivals in the widow's good graces; there wereothers who averred that his treatment of a brute beast like a humanbeing was sinful and unchristian. "He couldn't have done more fora regularly baptized child," said the postmistress. "And what mo'would a regularly baptized child have wanted?" returned Mrs.MacGlowrie, with the drawling Southern intonation she fell backupon when most contemptuous.But Dr. Blair's increasing practice and the widow's preoccupationpresently ended their brief intimacy. It was well known that sheencouraged no suitors at the hotel, and his shyness andsensitiveness shrank from ostentatious advances. There seemed tobe no chance of her becoming, herself, his patient; her sane mind,indolent nerves, and calm circulation kept her from feminine"vapors" of feminine excesses. She retained the teeth anddigestion of a child in her thirty odd years, and abused neither.Riding and the cultivation of her little garden gave her sufficientexercise. And yet the unexpected occurred! The day afterStarbottle left, Dr. Blair was summoned hastily to the hotel. Mrs.MacGlowrie had been found lying senseless in a dead faint in thepassage outside the dining room. In his hurried flight thitherwith the messenger he could learn only that she had seemed to be inher usual health that morning, and that no one could assign anycause for her fainting.He could find out little more when he arrived and examined her asshe lay pale and unconscious on the sofa of her sitting room. Ithad not been thought necessary to loosen her already loose dress,and indeed he could find no organic disturbance. The case was oneof sudden nervous shock--but this, with his knowledge of herindolent temperament, seemed almost absurd. They could tell himnothing but that she was evidently on the point of entering thedining room when she fell unconscious. Had she been frightened byanything? A snake or a rat? Miss Morvin was indignant! The widowof MacGlowrie--the repeller of grizzlies--frightened at "sich"!Had she been upset by any previous excitement, passion, or thereceipt of bad news? No!--she "wasn't that kind," as the doctorknew. And even as they were speaking he felt the widow's healthylife returning to the pulse he was holding, and giving a fainttinge to her lips. Her blue-veined eyelids quivered slightly andthen opened with languid wonder on the doctor and her surroundings.Suddenly a quick, startled look contracted the yellow brown pupilsof her eyes, she lifted herself to a sitting posture with a hurriedglance around the room and at the door beyond. Catching the quick,observant eyes of Dr. Blair, she collected herself with an effort,which Dr. Blair felt in her pulse, and drew away her wrist."What is it? What happened?" she said weakly."You had a slight attack of faintness," said the doctor cheerily,"and they called me in as I was passing, but you're all right now.""How pow'ful foolish," she said, with returning color, but her eyesstill glancing at the door, "slumping off like a green gyrl atnothin'.""Perhaps you were startled?" said the doctor.Mrs. MacGlowrie glanced up quickly and looked away. "No!--Let mesee! I was just passing through the hall, going into the diningroom, when--everything seemed to waltz round me--and I was off!Where did they find me?" she said, turning to Miss Morvin."I picked you up just outside the door," replied the housekeeper."Then they did not see me?" said Mrs. MacGlowrie."Who's they?" responded the housekeeper with more directness thangrammatical accuracy."The people in the dining room. I was just opening the door--and Ifelt this coming on--and--I reckon I had just sense enough to shutthe door again before I went off.""Then that accounts for what Jim Slocum said," uttered Miss Morvintriumphantly. "He was in the dining room talkin' with the newpreacher, when he allowed he heard the door open and shut behindhim. Then he heard a kind of slump outside and opened the dooragain just to find you lyin' there, and to rush off and get me.And that's why he was so mad at the preacher!--for he says he justskurried away without offerin' to help. He allows the preacher maybe a pow'ful exhorter--but he ain't worth much at 'works.'""Some men can't bear to be around when a woman's up to that sort offoolishness," said the widow, with a faint attempt at a smile, buta return of her paleness."Hadn't you better lie down again?" said the doctor solicitously."I'm all right now," returned Mrs. MacGlowrie, struggling to herfeet; "Morvin will look after me till the shakiness goes. But itwas mighty touching and neighborly to come in, Doctor," shecontinued, succeeding at last in bringing up a faint but adorablesmile, which stirred Blair's pulses. "If I were my own dog--youcouldn't have treated me better!"With no further excuse for staying longer, Blair was obliged todepart--yet reluctantly, both as lover and physician. He was by nomeans satisfied with her condition. He called to inquire the nextday--but she was engaged and sent word to say she was "better."In the excitement attending the advent of the new preacher theslight illness of the charming widow was forgotten. He had takenthe settlement by storm. His first sermon at Laurel Springexceeded even the extravagant reputation that had preceded him.Known as the "Inspired Cowboy," a common unlettered frontiersman,he was said to have developed wonderful powers of exhortatoryeloquence among the Indians, and scarcely less savage bordercommunities where he had lived, half outcast, half missionary. Hehad just come up from the Southern agricultural districts, where hehad been, despite his rude antecedents, singularly effective withwomen and young people. The moody dyspeptics and lazy rustics ofLaurel Spring were stirred as with a new patent medicine. Dr.Blair went to the first "revival" meeting. Without undervaluingthe man's influence, he was instinctively repelled by hisappearance and methods. The young physician's trained powers ofobservation not only saw an overwrought emotionalism in thespeaker's eloquence, but detected the ring of insincerity in hismore lucid speech and acts. Nevertheless, the hysteria of thepreacher was communicated to the congregation, who wept and shoutedwith him. Tired and discontented housewives found their vaguesorrows and vaguer longings were only the result of their"unregenerate" state; the lazy country youths felt that thefrustration of their small ambitions lay in their not being"convicted of sin." The mourners' bench was crowded with wildlyemulating sinners. Dr. Blair turned away with mingled feelings ofamusement and contempt. At the door Jim Slocum tapped him on theshoulder: "Fetches the wimmin folk every time, don't he, Doctor?"said Jim."So it seems," said Blair dryly."You're one o' them scientific fellers that look inter things--whatdo YOU allow it is?"The young doctor restrained the crushing answer that rose to hislips. He had learned caution in that neighborhood. "I couldn'tsay," he said indifferently."'Tain't no religion," said Slocum emphatically; "it's jest purefas'nation. Did ye look at his eye? It's like a rattlesnake's,and them wimmin are like birds. They're frightened of him--butthey hev to do jest what he 'wills' 'em. That's how he skeert thewidder the other day."The doctor was alert and on fire at once. "Scared the widow?" herepeated indignantly."Yes. You know how she swooned away. Well, sir, me and thatpreacher, Brown, was the only one in that dinin' room at the time.The widder opened the door behind me and sorter peeked in, and thatthar preacher give a start and looked up; and then, that sort ofqueer light come in his eyes, and she shut the door, and kinderfluttered and flopped down in the passage outside, like a bird!And he crawled away like a snake, and never said a word! My beliefis that either he hadn't time to turn on the hull influence, orelse she, bein' smart, got the door shut betwixt her and it intime! Otherwise, sure as you're born, she'd hev been floppin' andcrawlin' and sobbin' arter him--jist like them critters we've left.""Better not let the brethren hear you talk like that, or they'lllynch you," said the doctor, with a laugh. "Mrs. MacGlowrie simplyhad an attack of faintness from some overexertion, that's all."Nevertheless, he was uneasy as he walked away. Mrs. MacGlowrie hadevidently received a shock which was still unexplained, and, inspite of Slocum's exaggerated fancy, there might be some foundationin his story. He did not share the man's superstition, although hewas not a skeptic regarding magnetism. Yet even then, the widow'saction was one of repulsion, and as long as she was strong enoughnot to come to these meetings, she was not in danger. A day or twolater, as he was passing the garden of the hotel on horseback, hesaw her lithe, graceful, languid figure bending over one of herfavorite flower beds. The high fence partially concealed him fromview, and she evidently believed herself alone. Perhaps that waswhy she suddenly raised herself from her task, put back herstraying hair with a weary, abstracted look, remained for a momentquite still staring at the vacant sky, and then, with a littlecatching of her breath, resumed her occupation in a dull,mechanical way. In that brief glimpse of her charming face, Blairwas shocked at the change; she was pale, the corners of her prettymouth were drawn, there were deeper shades in the orbits of hereyes, and in spite of her broad garden hat with its blue ribbon,her light flowered frock and frilled apron, she looked as hefancied she might have looked in the first crushing grief of herwidowhood. Yet he would have passed on, respecting her privacy ofsorrow, had not her little spaniel detected him with her keenersenses. And Fluffy being truthful--as dogs are--and recognizing adear friend in the intruder, barked joyously.The widow looked up, her eyes met Blair's, and she reddened. Buthe was too acute a lover to misinterpret what he knew, alas! wasonly confusion at her abstraction being discovered. Nevertheless,there was something else in her brown eyes he had never seenbefore. A momentary lighting up of RELIEF--of even hopefulness--inhis presence. It was enough for Blair; he shook off his oldshyness like the dust of his ride, and galloped around to the frontdoor.But she met him in the hall with only her usual languid good humor.Nevertheless, Blair was not abashed."I can't put you in splints and plaster like Fluffy, Mrs.MacGlowrie," he said, "but I can forbid you to go into the gardenunless you're looking better. It's a positive reflection on myprofessional skill, and Laurel Spring will be shocked, and hold meresponsible."Mrs. MacGlowrie had recovered enough of her old spirit to replythat she thought Laurel Spring could be in better business thanlooking at her over her garden fence."But your dog, who knows you're not well, and doesn't think mequite a fool, had the good sense to call me. You heard him."But the widow protested that she was as strong as a horse, and thatFluffy was like all puppies, conceited to the last degree."Well," said Blair cheerfully, "suppose I admit you are all right,physically, you'll confess you have some trouble on your mind,won't you? If I can't make you SHOW me your tongue, you'll let mehear you USE it to tell me what worries you. If," he added moreearnestly, "you won't confide in your physician--you will perhaps--to--to--a--FRIEND."But Mrs. MacGlowrie, evading his earnest eyes as well as hisappeal, was wondering what good it would do either a doctor, or--a--a--she herself seemed to hesitate over the word--"a FRIEND, tohear the worriments of a silly, nervous old thing--who had onlystuck a little too closely to her business.""You are neither nervous nor old, Mrs. MacGlowrie," said the doctorpromptly, "though I begin to think you HAVE been too closelyconfined here. You want more diversion, or--excitement. You mighteven go to hear this preacher"--he stopped, for the word hadslipped from his mouth unawares.But a swift look of scorn swept her pale face. "And you'd like meto follow those skinny old frumps and leggy, limp chits, thatslobber and cry over that man!" she said contemptuously. "No! Ireckon I only want a change--and I'll go away, or get out of thisfor a while."The poor doctor had not thought of this possible alternative. Hisheart sank, but he was brave. "Yes, perhaps you are right," hesaid sadly, "though it would be a dreadful loss--to Laurel Spring--to us all--if you went.""Do I look so VERY bad, doctor?" she said, with a half-mischievous,half-pathetic smile.The doctor thought her upturned face very adorable, but restrainedhis feelings heroically, and contented himself with replying to thepathetic half of her smile. "You look as if you had beensuffering," he said gravely, "and I never saw you look so before.You seem as if you had experienced some great shock. Do you know,"he went on, in a lower tone and with a half-embarrassed smile,"that when I saw you just now in the garden, you looked as Iimagined you might have looked in the first days of your widowhood--when your husband's death was fresh in your heart."A strange expression crossed her face. Her eyelids droppedinstantly, and with both hands she caught up her frilled apron asif to meet them and covered her face. A little shudder seemed topass over her shoulders, and then a cry that ended in anuncontrollable and half-hysterical laugh followed from the depthsof that apron, until shaking her sides, and with her head stillenveloped in its covering, she fairly ran into the inner room andclosed the door behind her.Amazed, shocked, and at first indignant, Dr. Blair remained fixedto the spot. Then his indignation gave way to a burningmortification as he recalled his speech. He had made a frightfulfaux pas! He had been fool enough to try to recall the most sacredmemories of that dead husband he was trying to succeed--and herquick woman's wit had detected his ridiculous stupidity. Her laughwas hysterical--but that was only natural in her mixed emotions.He mounted his horse in confusion and rode away.For a few days he avoided the house. But when he next saw her shehad a charming smile of greeting and an air of entire obliviousnessof his past blunder. She said she was better. She had taken hisadvice and was giving herself some relaxation from business. Shehad been riding again--oh, so far! Alone?--of course; she wasalways alone--else what would Laurel Spring say?"True," said Blair smilingly; "besides, I forgot that you are quiteable to take care of yourself in an emergency. And yet," he added,admiringly looking at her lithe figure and indolent grace, "do youknow I never can associate you with the dreadful scenes they sayyou have gone through.""Then please don't!" she said quickly; "really, I'd rather youwouldn't. I'm sick and tired of hearing of it!" She was halflaughing and yet half in earnest, with a slight color on her cheek.Blair was a little embarrassed. "Of course, I don't mean yourheroism--like that story of the intruder and the scissors," hestammered."Oh, THAT'S the worst of all! It's too foolish--it's sickening!"she went on almost angrily. "I don't know who started that stuff."She paused, and then added shyly, "I really am an awful coward andhorribly nervous--as you know."He would have combated this--but she looked really disturbed, andhe had no desire to commit another imprudence. And he thought,too, that he again had seen in her eyes the same hopeful, wistfullight he had once seen before, and was happy.This led him, I fear, to indulge in wilder dreams. His practice,although increasing, barely supported him, and the widow was rich.Her business had been profitable, and she had repaid the advancesmade her when she first took the hotel. But this disparity intheir fortunes which had frightened him before now had no fears forhim. He felt that if he succeeded in winning her affections shecould afford to wait for him, despite other suitors, until histalents had won an equal position. His rivals had always felt assecure in his poverty as they had in his peaceful profession. Howcould a poor, simple doctor aspire to the hand of the rich widow ofthe redoubtable MacGlowrie?It was late one afternoon, and the low sun was beginning to strikeathwart the stark columns and down the long aisles of the redwoodson the High Ridge. The doctor, returning from a patient at theloggers' camp in its depths, had just sighted the smaller groves ofLaurel Springs, two miles away. He was riding fast, with histhoughts filled with the widow, when he heard a joyous bark in theunderbrush, and Fluffy came bounding towards him. Blair dismountedto caress him, as was his wont, and then, wisely conceiving thathis mistress was not far away, sauntered forward exploringly,leading his horse, the dog hounding before him and barking, as ifbent upon both leading and announcing him. But the latter heeffected first, for as Blair turned from the trail into the deeperwoods, he saw the figures of a man and woman walking togethersuddenly separate at the dog's warning. The woman was Mrs.MacGlowrie--the man was the revival preacher!Amazed, mystified, and indignant, Blair nevertheless obeyed hisfirst instinct, which was that of a gentleman. He turned leisurelyaside as if not recognizing them, led his horse a few pacesfurther, mounted him, and galloped away without turning his head.But his heart was filled with bitterness and disgust. This woman--who but a few days before had voluntarily declared her scorn andcontempt for that man and his admirers--had just been giving him aclandestine meeting like one of the most infatuated of hisdevotees! The story of the widow's fainting, the coarse surmisesand comments of Slocum, came back to him with overwhelmingsignificance. But even then his reason forbade him to believe thatshe had fallen under the preacher's influence--she, with her sanemind and indolent temperament. Yet, whatever her excuse or purposewas, she had deceived him wantonly and cruelly! His abruptavoidance of her had prevented him from knowing if she, on herpart, had recognized him as he rode away. If she HAD, she wouldunderstand why he had avoided her, and any explanation must comefrom her.Then followed a few days of uncertainty, when his thoughts againreverted to the preacher with returning jealousy. Was she, afterall, like other women, and had her gratuitous outburst of scorn ofTHEIR infatuation been prompted by unsuccessful rivalry? He wastoo proud to question Slocum again or breathe a word of his fears.Yet he was not strong enough to keep from again seeking the HighRidge, to discover any repetition of that rendezvous. But he sawher neither there, nor elsewhere, during his daily rounds. And onenight his feverish anxiety getting the better of him, he enteredthe great "Gospel Tent" of the revival preacher.It chanced to be an extraordinary meeting, and the usualenthusiastic audience was reinforced by some sight-seers from theneighboring county town--the district judge and officials from thecourt in session, among them Colonel Starbottle. The impassionedrevivalist--his eyes ablaze with fever, his lank hair wet withperspiration, hanging beside his heavy but weak jaws--wasconcluding a fervent exhortation to his auditors to confess theirsins, "accept conviction," and regenerate then and there, withoutdelay. They must put off "the old Adam," and put on the flesh ofrighteousness at once! They were to let no false shame or worldlypride keep them from avowing their guilty past before theirbrethren. Sobs and groans followed the preacher's appeals; his ownagitation and convulsive efforts seemed to spread in surging wavesthrough the congregation, until a dozen men and women arose,staggering like drunkards blindly, or led or dragged forward bysobbing sympathizers towards the mourners' bench. And prominentamong them, but stepping jauntily and airily forward, was theredoubtable and worldly Colonel Starbottle!At this proof of the orator's power the crowd shouted--but stoppedsuddenly, as the colonel halted before the preacher, and ascendedthe rostrum beside him. Then taking a slight pose with his gold-headed cane in one hand and the other thrust in the breast of hisbuttoned coat, he said in his blandest, forensic voice:--"If I mistake not, sir, you are advising these ladies and gentlemento a free and public confession of their sins and a--er--denunciation of their past life--previous to their conversion. IfI am mistaken I--er--ask your pardon, and theirs and--er--holdmyself responsible--er--personally responsible!"The preacher glanced uneasily at the colonel, but replied, still inthe hysterical intonation of his exordium:--"Yes! a complete searching of hearts--a casting out of the sevenDevils of Pride, Vain Glory"--"Thank you--that is sufficient," said the colonel blandly. "Butmight I--er--be permitted to suggest that you--er--er--SET THEM THEEXAMPLE! The statement of the circumstances attending your ownpast life and conversion would be singularly interesting andexemplary."The preacher turned suddenly and glanced at the colonel withfurious eyes set in an ashy face."If this is the flouting and jeering of the Ungodly and Dissolute,"he screamed, "woe to you! I say--woe to you! What have such asYOU to do with my previous state of unregeneracy?""Nothing," said the colonel blandly, "unless that state were alsothe STATE OF ARKANSAS! Then, sir, as a former member of theArkansas BAR--I might be able to assist your memory--and--er--evencorroborate your confession."But here the enthusiastic adherents of the preacher, vaguelyconscious of some danger to their idol, gathered threateninglyround the platform from which he had promptly leaped into theirmidst, leaving the colonel alone, to face the sea of angry upturnedfaces. But that gallant warrior never altered his characteristicpose. Behind him loomed the reputation of the dozen duels he hadfought, the gold-headed stick on which he leaned was believed tocontain eighteen inches of shining steel--and the people of LaurelSpring had discretion.He smiled suavely, stepped jauntily down, and made his way to theentrance without molestation.But here he was met by Blair and Slocum, and a dozen eagerquestions:--"What was it?" "What had he done?" "WHO was he?""A blank shyster, who had swindled the widows and orphans inArkansas and escaped from jail.""And his name isn't Brown?""No," said the colonel curtly."What is it?""That is a matter which concerns only myself and him, sir," saidthe colonel loftily; "but for which I am--er--personallyresponsible."A wild idea took possession of Blair."And you say he was a noted desperado?" he said with nervoushesitation.The colonel glared."Desperado, sir! Never! Blank it all!--a mean, psalm-singing,crawling, sneak thief!"And Blair felt relieved without knowing exactly why.The next day it was known that the preacher, Gabriel Brown, hadleft Laurel Spring on an urgent "Gospel call" elsewhere.Colonel Starbottle returned that night with his friends to thecounty town. Strange to say, a majority of the audience had notgrasped the full significance of the colonel's unseemlyinterruption, and those who had, as partisans, kept it quiet.Blair, tortured by doubt, had a new delicacy added to hishesitation, which left him helpless until the widow should take theinitiative in explanation.A sudden summons from his patient at the loggers' camp the next daybrought him again to the fateful redwoods. But he was vexed andmystified to find, on arriving at the camp, that he had been madethe victim of some stupid blunder, and that no message had beensent from there. He was returning abstractedly through the woodswhen he was amazed at seeing at a little distance before him theflutter of Mrs. MacGlowrie's well-known dark green riding habit andthe figure of the lady herself. Her dog was not with her, neitherwas the revival preacher--or he might have thought the whole visiona trick of his memory. But she slackened her pace, and he wasobliged to rein up abreast of her in some confusion."I hope I won't shock you again by riding alone through the woodswith a man," she said with a light laugh.Nevertheless, she was quite pale as he answered, somewhat coldly,that he had no right to be shocked at anything she might choose todo."But you WERE shocked, for you rode away the last time withoutspeaking," she said; "and yet"--she looked up suddenly into hiseyes with a smileless face--"that man you saw me with once had abetter right to ride alone with me than any other man. He was"--"Your lover?" said Blair with brutal brevity."My husband!" returned Mrs. MacGlowrie slowly."Then you are NOT a widow," gasped Blair."No. I am only a divorced woman. That is why I have had to live alie here. That man--that hypocrite--whose secret was only halfexposed the other night, was my husband--divorced from me by thelaw, when, an escaped convict, he fled with another woman from theState three years ago." Her face flushed and whitened again; sheput up her hand blindly to her straying hair, and for an instantseemed to sway in the saddle.But Blair as quickly leaped from his horse, and was beside her."Let me help you down," he said quickly, "and rest yourself untilyou are better." Before she could reply, he lifted her tenderly tothe ground and placed her on a mossy stump a little distance fromthe trail. Her color and a faint smile returned to her troubledface."Had we not better go on?" she said, looking around. "I never wentso far as to sit down in the woods with HIM that day.""Forgive me," he said pleadingly, "but, of course, I knew nothing.I disliked the man from instinct--I thought he had some power overyou.""He has none--except the secret that would also have exposedhimself.""But others knew it. Colonel Starbottle must have known his name?And yet"--as he remembered he stammered--"he refused to tell me.""Yes, but not because he knew he was my husband, but because heknew he bore the same name. He thinks, as every one does, that myhusband died in San Francisco. The man who died there was myhusband's cousin--a desperate man and a noted duelist.""And YOU assumed to be HIS widow?" said the astounded Blair."Yes, but don't blame me too much," she said pathetically. "It wasa wild, a silly deceit, but it was partly forced upon me. For whenI first arrived across the plains, at the frontier, I was stillbearing my husband's name, and although I was alone and helpless, Ifound myself strangely welcomed and respected by those rudefrontiersmen. It was not long before I saw it was because I waspresumed to be the widow of ALLEN MacGlowrie--who had just died inSan Francisco. I let them think so, for I knew--what they did not--that Allen's wife had separated from him and married again, andthat my taking his name could do no harm. I accepted theirkindness; they gave me my first start in business, which brought mehere. It was not much of a deceit," she continued, with a slighttremble of her pretty lip, "to prefer to pass as the widow of adead desperado than to be known as the divorced wife of a livingconvict. It has hurt no one, and it has saved me just now.""You were right! No one could blame you," said Blair eagerly,seizing her hand.But she disengaged it gently, and went on:--"And now you wonder why I gave him a meeting here?""I wonder at nothing but your courage and patience in all thissuffering!" said Blair fervently; "and at your forgiving me for socruelly misunderstanding you.""But you must learn all. When I first saw MacGlowrie under hisassumed name, I fainted, for I was terrified and believed he knew Iwas here and had come to expose me even at his own risk. That waswhy I hesitated between going away or openly defying him. But itappears he was more frightened than I at finding me here--he hadsupposed I had changed my name after the divorce, and that Mrs.MacGlowrie, Laurel Spring, was his cousin's widow. When he foundout who I was he was eager to see me and agree upon a mutualsilence while he was here. He thought only of himself," she addedscornfully, "and Colonel Starbottle's recognition of him that nightas the convicted swindler was enough to put him to flight.""And the colonel never suspected that you were his wife?" saidBlair."Never! He supposed from the name that he was some relation of myhusband, and that was why he refused to tell it--for my sake. Thecolonel is an old fogy--and pompous--but a gentleman--as good asthey make them!"A slightly jealous uneasiness and a greater sense of shame cameover Blair."I seem to have been the only one who suspected and did not aidyou," he said sadly, "and yet God knows"--The widow had put up her slim hand in half-smiling, half-patheticinterruption."Wait! I have not told you everything. When I took over theresponsibility of being Allen MacGlowrie's widow, I had to takeover HER relations and HER history as I gathered it from thefrontiersmen. I never frightened any grizzly--I never jabbedanybody with the scissors; it was SHE who did it. I never wasamong the Injins--I never had any fighting relations; my paw was aplain farmer. I was only a peaceful Blue Grass girl--there! Inever thought there was any harm in it; it seemed to keep the menoff, and leave me free--until I knew you! And you know I didn'twant you to believe it--don't you?"She hid her flushed face and dimples in her handkerchief."But did you never think there might be another way to keep the menoff, and sink the name of MacGlowrie forever?" said Blair in alower voice."I think we must be going back now," said the widow timidly,withdrawing her hand, which Blair had again mysteriously gotpossession of in her confusion."But wait just a few minutes longer to keep me company," said Blairpleadingly. "I came here to see a patient, and as there must havebeen some mistake in the message--I must try to discover it.""Oh! Is that all?" said the widow quickly. "Why?"--she flushedagain and laughed faintly-- "Well! I am that patient! I wantedto see you alone to explain everything, and I could think of noother way. I'm afraid I've got into the habit of thinking nothingof being somebody else.""I wish you would let me select who you should be," said the doctorboldly."We really must go back--to the horses," said the widow."Agreed--if we will ride home together."They did. And before the year was over, although they bothremained, the name of MacGlowrie had passed out of Laurel Spring.

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