Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1876-11-16

quietly, and pick me up as you come
back = / should like it SO much"
"WelI-I don't know The tide is
going out, the boy says; there won't
be trouble of that kind. Are
you sure you won't be chilled or
lonely ?"
"Oh quite sure
promise me that If sou are, you
will go to the cottage at the bend
and warm yourself, or sit on the
rocks IN the sun. Well look for you
in one place or the other. Goodbye
my dear"
&c ooi-bye, SIR
"And, oh, Esther, you must have
some lunch You'll starve before we
come back" cried careful Helen.
SO she and Tom and abasket made
their way upward, aud deposit of
sandwiches and port wine was left
in convenient crevice within reach.
SC BOD bye, dear. | hope that
sketch will be lovoIy." And they
were gone-up the hlllside-Mis.
Gray last, leaniug upon her hus-
bands arm.
"Poor child" she said, "it makes
nv heart ache to see her look SO sad
Didn't you see how she was longing
for US to go and leave her alone?"
'And the very worst thing for her.
She needs rousing, and all this NOR
bid thinking does her HARM"
The voices died away. Esther
caught the words. and she smiled
at them-a bitter little smile That
was what all of them said since her
trouble came. She must be reused
amused-and they had crowd I'd bus
mess and pleasure upon her until
she sometimes felt that she could
stand it no longer This was the
first time in many weeks that she
had felt really free, free to be silent,
to look sad, to cry if she wished.
What a luxury it was No anxious
eyed mother to watch her these
comparative strangers Withdrawn
this cool darkling sllence-it was de-
licious! There was something in the
very nature of her trial which made
it necessary for her TO vail her grief
with reserve. A black dress she
might wear-Paul was a cousin, and
some show ofmourning is allowed for
second cousinbood, even, and for in
innate friendship such as theirs had
been. But mono of them knew of the
unavowe engagement which bound
them since that hurried farewell let
ter in which his love found utterance,
and which only reached her after be
salled-the sailing from which there
was to be no return. No one knew
as they talked compassiona'ely of
her having had a "dreadful shock,
poor girl-her own cousin you konw,
aud such fine young fellow"-that
her heart was wearing widows weeds
and mourning its dead as the great
loss of lifo 1t wouldn't bear talking
about, so she kept silent, and tried
to wear a brave face.
At first there had been little hope
as rumors camo of one boat bad es-
clping from the midnight collision !;
but that was over now, and the ter
ribls suspense vas past, and every
thing had faded into sort of fixed
acceptance of sorrow. Tho light had
gone out.
Left alone, she found with some
surprise that she didn't want to cry.
All the morning she had felt that to
creep away somewhere and weep,
and weep her heart out, would be so
good but tears are contrary things.
She sat there duiled into a calm that
was almost content She was think
ing of the time Paul had Wis ted the
island, and climbed about that very
cave. Ga the very rock shelf where
she sat, he might perhaps have rest>
cd. She liked to think so. 1t brought
him nearer.
A little later, she put her sketch
away, and crept down to broad
ledge, where, through the arch. the
exquisite sky Inc was visable. The
surf tumbled and chimed like distant
bella She lay as if fascinated, her
eyes fixed upon the shining horizon.
Somewhere beyond was the spot
where her good ship which held all
went down. Down where? Her i'm
Imagination ran riot. Cleaving the
liquid depths to the Utmost sanctua>
ry of ocean, she saw the golden
sands, the shadowy green light per-
colating through miles of water-the
everlasting repose which reigned
there beyond the reach of storm,
wind or hurricane She tried to fix
the wan lering images, and to think
of is as haven no less tranquil than
the quiet mounds under which are
But it would not stay. Thoughts t
tempest and fury, of chill piping
winds whipping the form from the
waves, of roar and tumul', and a
heaving wildernes3 of dark waters,
came over her; and through all, the
refrain of Jean Ingelow's pathetic
strain mixed and blended:
| "Ani shall see thee no more, no more,
Till the sea gives up it's dead"
And then she thought, as she had
thought before, how glad she woul
be to diel Life didn't seem dcsirabl.
any longer, and it would be blessed
to be with Paul, even at The bottom
of the ocean. And thinking thus the
long eyelashes dropped moro and
more heavily; peace fell upon the
brow and lips; she was asleep
asleep, dreaming a sweet, joyful
| dream.
How long she slept she nevel
knew. She awoke With sensation
of intense cold. The spell of slnm
her was so strong npon her that for &
moment she did not realize W hat had
taken place. The cave was half full
of water. Her fee and tho hem Of
her dress were already wet and
The roar of the waves beneath the
hardly distinguisha0le arch way told
that the tide had surprised another
victim, and already the avenue of es