I come from Wisconsin,
where we think more of our bodies than our souls; an' 'twas in
Wisconsin that I first met Dr. Standish. He had a call to the town,
wher I lived with--with my sister. She, my sister, was a real pretty
girl then, but of a prettiness that soon fades. An' she hired out as
cook ter the Doctor. He was a good man, an' a kind one, but she paid
back his kindness by runnin' off with his only son."
"Surely," said Ajax gently, "the son was also to blame?"
"No, sir, my sister was ter blame, an' she knew it. We was common
folk, Mr. Ajax, what they would call in the South--white trash, an'
the Standishes was real quality. My sister knew that, an' refused to
marry the young man, tho' he asked her on his bended knees. Then he
died, an'--an' my sister died, an' nothin' was left but the sorrow an'
the shame, an'--Miriam."
The name fell softly on a silence that we respected. Presently she
continued--
"Doctor Standish offered to take the child, an' I dared not keep her.
His terms were awful hard, but just: the scandal'd broke up his home,
an' his heart. He tole me he'd take Miriam ter Californy, an' that she
must never know the story of her mother's sin.
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