The Somerset press. [volume] (Somerset, Ohio) 1873-1977, 1874-11-06
2.


and the two men walked up from the
front gate to the house together. Al
ready the beauty of Walter Phelps sun
set vision was in the door.
well, Miss Bessie" the master of the
house said cheerfully, the new horse has
been running away. stood a fair chance
of being dashed to pieces against the
stone wall; but when had just said to
mvself that / could only be saved by a
miracle. this unknown hero caught my
horse by the bit and saved me. 1t only
wanted that I should have been beau
tiful and belated damsel, instead Of a
hoary old country doctor. to have it read
like page out of a novel;"
"You are better worth saving than
any belated damsel I know Of" Bessie
said. as she kissed him; ''and how i
thank the miracle that saved you have
no words strong enough to tell"
"The miracle is Walter Phelps, by
name, at your service, and only too glad
of so easy an opportunity to earn your
thanks. I am staying at the hotel, near
by. and will call tomorrow, if | may,
to see whether the adventure has had
any more serious consequences than ap-
pear at present"
"The more often we see you the bet
ter" his host answered with cordial hos
pitaIity, and Phelps fancied that Miss
Bessie's eyes seconded the invitation.
"Papa is forgetting to tell you that he
is DIR. Crandall," she said, as she bade
him good night; "the only doctor in the
place, and you've done good many peo-
pie service, when you kept his bones
whole
So fate had been, was it kind or un-
kind-only the future can say which
to Walter Phelps; or let us call it in
duleent. He walked back through the
moonlight to his hotel, in a mood of mild
seIf-congratulation She was certainly
girl-they were Eamilv-on whom no
impertinent intrusion would have been
tolerated. He might have staid in Riv-
erside all summer, angling in vain for
the opening which destiny and his own
steel-Iike muscles had made for him to-
night He was born under lucky star.
But Just there conscience pricked him,
and asked a question he could not evade.
Why did he want to know this Bessie
Crandall-what could she be to him
why should he seek her? He stood still
and answered the inquiry it
all the more defant'y because he knew
he was wrong.
81 want to know her just for pastime
and why not? Are men and women
like finder and flint that they cannot
meet without falling in love? In this
dull place any interest is blessing. No
doubt l shall entertain Miss Crandall, as
much as her beauty will please me; and
when the summer is over it will be au-
tumn all the same, whether we have
amused ourselves or been bored"
| Mr.. Phelps went down late to break
fast, the next morning, and found him
self a hero DIR. Crandall had driven
by, and stopped to tell the landlord the
story af his rescue. Phelps had saved
from accident the most popular man in
the village, and the village was deter
mined to make much of him. He did
not go over to DIR. Crandall's until the
afternoon-ho would not be in haste or
intrusive. The Doctor was not at home
possibly he had counted on this in
timing his visit-but Bessie received
him with satisfactory welcome.
'I took it lightly last night, she said,
"but I never slept all night for thinking
how easily he might have been killed;
and he is all have in the world"
Walter Phelps begged her not to hu-
initiate him by too much gratitude for
a service which cost him nothing be-
/ yond momentary exertion of strength;
but her thanks and praises were very
pleasant, nevertheless. He leaned back
in his chair and surveyed her critically,
from under half closed lids. She was a
lady, certainly. His cousin Margaret
was no more entirely we'll bred; but how
different they were; as different as ice
and fire, flesh and marble. Bessie was
slight and lissome and girlish of figure
She had great, dusky eyes, out of which
the child's eagerness had not yet faded,
though the woman's longing and passion
were in them too. Her hair was dark
with soft ripple in it. Her features
were piquant, rather than regular-tht
broad, sunny brow, the nose not quite
straight, the sensitive, sweet mouth, the
clear, dark skin, the rounded cheek.
where the color came and went-yor
could not ask for anything Brighter o.
lovelier, or yet more different from The
absolute perfection of Mss Masga re
Sturgis, not one line of whose classi,
: face an artist would have ventured t.
criticise.
Z Their manners were as unlike as thei
faces. Both were perfectly refined, bu
n Miss Sturgis had the aplomb and self
= pOSSSSSIOll, Ii6 uIlNdl ' lllS CdlhAhSoo am
repose which come only of careful train
ing and wide social experience. Bessie
, on the other hand, was swayed by he
|. impulses, as a butterfly is blown by
K summer wind. These impulses, bowev
g er, being always pure and sweet, tn
a moods of womanly and gracious sou
!. the result was quite as charming as tn
e more reasonable department of a colde
h woman. Unconsciously all these com
e parisons drifted through the young man
d mind. Miss Sturgis was the woma
4 whom, aside from his mother and sister
70 he had seen most of in his life, and {
II whom he had almost unknowingly mad
y standard of comparison for all othe
women. Bessie was so curiously unlik
a her that there was charm in this ne
o. study.
l. To do him justice, he pursued it faitl
l. fully. He pretended to be there fc
"a | tro,,4 Est;,or. b,t Tho tro0f boJ I;ttIo 1