The new Northwest. [volume] (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887, 1872-12-13
ready smile upon him she had been Civ

beaming over her shoulder upon me as
she took the surgeons arm and went
away.
The New Zealander looked after her,
tried to console himself by drawing his
wrap in another fold across his knees,
did not succeed, and finally got up and
went away. OF course it was not worth
his while to make himself agreeable to
a middle-aged woman in hood and
waterproof. So / sat and looked at the
likeness of a lake among the sunset
clouds, and tried to decide whether had
better take oatmeal or biscuit-tea for
supper; wondering the while, halfuncon-
sclously, about the old chord in my
memory that was always being struck
by certain musical ring in the New
Zealander's voice.
After an hour or so the gun was fired;
and presently Miss Armour came back,
with the disorder of the strong sea wind
in her hair, and its freshness in her
pretty pink cheeks.
"pve come as / said," she murmured,
dropping at my feet again, and smiling
up, as though she had got where she
best loved to be, just such smile as
she would have given to the stokers
down in the engine-rOom, or to the
upon while it lasted; and we middle
aged people have learned 10 warm our
selves in any chance ray of sunlight,
without stopping to consider whether il
is likely to be perpetual.
This time the bit Of sunshine did not
stay long; for there came up an artist
with his sketch book; and when Miss
Armour had sufficiently admired his
graphic pencilings of the captain and
the quartermaster,. and the sea-sick oc-
cupant of an upper berth, it yastime 10
throw the log; and so he bore her off,
to find out by her own eyes whether we
were actually going at the rate of thir-
teen knots, or only twelve and half.
That was how the days went. The
passengers read and paced the deck,
played games and guessed riddles, and
were always hungry; the pilot stood
steady and firm at the wheel; the sail
ors ran up and down about the rigging
like overgrown spiders, and were for
over securing and scrubbing, tying and
untying, drawing up and letting down.
Thus at last we had come safely almost
to ourdesired haven. With fair sailing,
we were only one day out from port;
and, fond as we had grown to be of each
other, we were getting impatient to
part.
Miss Armour, during all the voyage,
had kept on as she had begun, beguiling
every one with her trick of lip and eye.
They ran after her like boys at the
string of kite. Well, they had moth
ing better to do just then; and when
she had faded ont, as the rainbow fades,
made no doubt she would be as easily
forgotten, or only remembered as n mid
summers day-dream, by all, unless it
might be solitary, warm-hearted man
like the New Zealander. To tell the
truth, 1 was a little sorry for him. Evil
IDENTIFY, life had not brought him all il
might, and he was hungry for the love
and confidence that had never been his
So was afraid he would miss this little
sparkle of girlhood and warm youth,
and find the void deeper when it had
gone out.
To the very last day Rosa kept her
place by my chair; and to the very last
the New Zealander kept his place by
her, when no one younger stepped in 10
carry her off, which was pretty often,
to be sure. Then he always went awaV
quietly by himself, with kind of grave
regret i'm his face. On this last morn
ing, Miss Armour had Just left along
with young lawyer, to drop oranges
and lemons among the steerage passen-
gers, when l noticed the New ZealaudeI
looking after her with n sadder regret
than usual-almOst a pain-in his eyes.
He had such handsome, dark eyesi
could see that without my glasses.
"Now," said to myself. 81 hope he
isn't going to get sofa sensible, gen.
tlemanly, agreeable man like him, and
quite old enough to be her fatherri
And so / looked at him to see if he was
when he suddenly turned upon me.
"At least, you might have written
Agata Wellsrp said he, sharply.
1 started, as you may think, to hear
my own name spoken so familiarly by 9
stranger; when, looking again, behold
| saw beneath the bronze, and under the
wrinkles and behind the beard, face
that twenty years before was the dearest
in the world to me-the face of Duncan
Ashley! We parted one day expecting
to meet on the next; but that evening
he was called away, and wrote instead
of coming. In his letter he said, what
he had said before with his eyes-yes
those same beautiful eyes-that 1 wa:
the choice of his heart and the desire oi
his life.
"Answer me-" said he, 81 cannot
wait till l see your
So answered. long, foolish letter,
though there was no need of writing,
for he had read all l could say long be-
fore, with those eyes of his. Then,
watched and waited for him; but never
saw MIN or heard one word more. II
you are young, you can imagine the
slow dying out of hope and expectation,
and, if you are old, you know how such
things can be lived over, and hidden in
secret graves
But now, as though the graves had
been opened, and the judgment set
came this sudden reproachful question
up from heburied past. l fairly caught
my breath, as l turned back my eyes
and looked him in the face again.
"FOrgive me,n said he directly, in {
gentler tone. az did not mean to speak
You brought it out with your eyes; that
questioning turn was so familiar. o
course you were quite right, and nevel
/ blamed you. / never meant you to Sc,
me again; but the temptation to finC
myself beside you, only TO be in tn,
soothing charm of your presence, wa
too great. 1t has been a blessing shal
carry with me all the rest of my life.n
he was rising to go away, but pu
out my hand. 81 did write, Duncan
Ashley" said ], "the letter must hav,
gone wrong"
"You did You wroten' he cried, sink
ing back in his chair again, and locke,
at me eagerly. "What did you saw -
"There was only one thing / eoul,
say; and j said that,u l answered
blushing as though l had just writer
the letter.
4 middle-aged woman in hood an,
waterproof But, dear me, it was onl,
my face that was middle-aged, after ali
my heart was as young and silly a
ever. And as for Duncan's face, tn
marks of care, and thought, and tim