One evening, just after I had lighted the lamp and put it on the supper table, I went, as was my usual habit, to draw down the blinds. Father had not yet come home. As I crossed his room I saw through the window a man standing close beside it on the outside, so close that I could not have seen him more distinctly had he been within reach of my touch. His arms were folded across his chest, and his head dropped a little in the attitude of one waiting. His figure was large and thick-set, almost that of a giant. As I looked he took off his cap and passed his hand over his short-cut, bristly hair, and in the action I saw his face,—a coarse, heavy, brutish face, that made me shudder. I noticed that the window sash was down and bolted, and I did not go near to touch the blind. I went back with an uneasy feeling into the dining-room. A few moments afterward father came in. He took up the light hurriedly, saying some thing about wanting it for a moment, and carried it into his room and shut the door. I heard him walking about in there, opening and closing drawers, and after a little I thought I heard a sound as if he were raising the window-sash gently. Then he came out. He looked at me sharply for a moment, and remarked that he had been hunting for a key. Strange! He was not in the habit of accounting for his actions. After he got up from the table he did not leave the house again, but went to bed almost immediately. In the morning when I put up his dinner and handed it to him as usual, he said,— “You need not get any supper for me to-night. I have office work to do at the mine and will not be back.” I was surprised. He had frequently not come home to the evening meal, but never before had he thought it worth his while to give me notice. I stood looking after him as he went out of the gate, when suddenly an idea flashed into my head that made my heart sink in my breast like a stone. I do not know why it should have come to me then so suddenly, with such strong conviction. Quickly I turned and ran into father’s room. I looked about. I opened the drawers. Yes—the most of his clothing was gone! It was as I thought. He did not mean to come back at all—Deserted! The dreadful word choked up my throat. I knew nothing of father’s actions, I knew not what he had done, but I would gladly have gone with him, have stood disgrace with him even, if that were necessary. I am sure I can not tell why I clung to him with such desperation. Though I was ignorant and inexperienced, I was also young and strong, and I was not afraid I would fail to make my living alone in the world. But kneeling upon the floor I laid my head upon the foot of the bedstead, and heavy, suffocating sobs came to my lips. Probably I would never see him again, and if he did not love me, at least, except that one time, he had not been harsh to me, and he was my father.