The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1878-04-25

If she were to see us?'
This was the beginning of our German
summer. So sweet, so fresh, so quiet,
SO restful. 50 full of tender peace. We
grew used in little time to the place.
| Grew used to the coming and going from
| the warm baths, to the water everywhere.
Water trickled through the green, soft
moss like silver flashing. There was a
sweet, piney smell in the air without.
Within, shufiing footsteps tramped heav-
lily along the long wooden galleries, open
ing unexpected doors and shutting them
again. Our innkeeper doZed and smoked,
and drank his beer outside the door,
sitting on rough bench. The poplar
trees quivered and whispered down in
the garden. All that garden.
"Come," the tremulous green leaves
were eternally whispering as they shook.
"Come! we hold secret prisoner in our
depths. 1t cannot escape. Come hide
your secret here, too!'
They always whispered like this at
night when the shadows lay deepest on
the ground. By daylight, while the yel-
low sunshine kissed the edges of the
leaves, there was silence mostly. Only
now and then branches stirred the boughs
parted and deep within voice gurgled
ironically, as if waiting for the night to
leap out
One evening, at twilight, [ sat by our
window overlooking pretty garden path
leading to orchards beyond. On bench
under the knotted apple-trees Rose sat,
at first all alone, reading. Her head WAS
bent gently, as if the fragrance OF the
flowers above her weighed too heavily.
A strange murmur foated through the
air, soft ana baimy. The birds had
ceased to sing; but now and then /
caught faint mystical sound as if wing
had stirred, unfolding in dream of flight
ee.top-hanging tremulously-w waiting
for wind-b breath to lift and watt it on
and on-whither?
Oh dream of summer nights, where
light is, but no glare; where sound is,
but no stir; when one hears without see
ing, the signs, terrible and distinct, of
that great pulse beating forever in the
arteries of time.
Suddenly looking down into the little
path I saw Rose no longer alone. The
young mountain artist was with her.
He was talking-she listening, earnestly
ssRoou. Rooe,'' bent from the win
dow calling. My heart was beating
frightfully. Then, feeling ashamed, be-
fore they could look up | drew back be-
hind the curtains. What made my heart
beat was the sense of something familiar
III the bearing of those toward each other
Something in their attitude, something
even m the little space which divided
them seemed to say that these two were
no strangers to each other-that they
had met often before. Oh, how foolish
I was TO think that !
BY and by she came in, her white dress
making her tall figure look taller in the
dusk of our room. She sat by the open
window moment silent, then she got
up and came and knelt by my side.
''Minna my sister kiss me-"
I kissed her-her sweet curIed lair,
her soft round cheek, her pretty throat,
with rose flushed dimple it-"Oh, my
Rose, my darling Rose-we have no
mother-we two sisters. We viii love
each other always"
'AInna. [ am going to be married
some day to Josef Kollbach. I have
promised to be his WIFE"
| was stupefed; what did she say; had
I heard Alright?
Married-to-to-"
''To the artist-you remember him;
we met him under the trees that day
that first day. l have seen him often
sincc-he loves me"
But, Oh, Rosy; to marry him, Such
little time. What will Emma say?'
Rose laughed nervously.
''Do you know, dear, the last letter
had from Emma tells me that she is
made quite unhappy by Henry. He dis
likes the attentions she receives from
young French officer, and torments her
by jealous watching. Is it rot funny.
Poor, wise little Emma. If ever I am a
wife-Oh, kiss me once more, NIinna,
and wish me Joy: We have no mother
no mother"
Oh, my darling sister, did not We
watch over each other, in our love in
those days? That night the voices of the
poplars, louder, more sinister than usual.
kept me awake lorg after the last shaft
OF moonlight had faded from the floor,
and the moist.air with shudder relapsed
into sullen stiffness. | covered my head
and then uncovered it again, for could
always hear the leaves whispering.
''There are secrets. We know cf all
things that there is bitterness somewhere
hidden. We ara ike human life.
The suns light glistens on the outer edge
but we have terrible depths of dark
ness within.
When, after having at last slept. [
awoke with the mornings stir, Rosy was
already making her toilet. She came
kissed me.
Il am happy" she murmured. 'sHe
loves me, then she added softly; "And
love him.
Some days passed quietly after that.
Josef was making preparations tc go to
the mountains again. He was a faithful
student Of the subjects which he painted.
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