AFTERMATH
It was a substantial stone house, built against the mountainside, overlooking a picturesque canyon. A woman sat on the broad veranda. Occasionally, she turned her head, and looked down the mountain road, listening as though expecting some one. Then she walked down the path, and stood watching. A little five-year-old girl joined her, flitting about like a sprite.
"Will father come soon, mother?" she asked.
"I hope so, Edith. He said he would come to-day." There was a far away look in the mother's eyes.
"Why doesn't father come?" the child continued.
"Oh, he has been a long way, and has traveled many days, dear. Something may have happened to detain him."
"What could have happened, mother?" the little one asked.
"Oh, business, or the rails might have spread, or there might have been a washout, or a landslide."
The mother again looked down the road. Then she walked slowly back to the veranda and took up her sewing. The child leaned against her knee.
"Mother, when you were a little girl, did you have any little girls to play with?"