Smyrna times., 1880-02-11
Dulcio st. Aubyn.

everywhere! Thick formess, opaque gray
| clouds hid the sweet Autumn blue sky
| from sight, and the surface OF the sea was
| like AN eXpanse of FURNISHED silver currug-
atod by swells that looked like ridges Of
gray slate. A thin gray mist hung over the
yellow surf, the wet sands and tho dreary
| bluffs, and between those two bluffs, half
way up the pretty ascent that led to the
little town beyond the picturesque cottage
| OF Lilienfsld loomed up family behind vail
! Of slverv gray vapor.
The Llienfeld was verify field OF
lilies being a tiny domain Of groves and
meadows set like chrysoprase in the heart
Of the bluffs, midway between the sea and
the town. Here was Il diminutvo natural
lake, forever fed by dews and mountaia
springs. where water lilies grew in matchless
abundance, and surrounded by broad acres
Of long lush grasses that was gorgeous in
the season with another sort of lily-the
small, slender, swaying meadow lily, with
its waxeu emerald leaves and its dainty
dropping Hover OF notified orange. The
cottage Of LilieMfald was u unique biieu
structure of gray stone, covered from base
to chimney with luXuri2at ivy vines.
Between the quaint porch and the tall,
arched iron gate fountain poured its spray
from hollow trident over a marble
Neptune with bread stone basin whore
delicate fishes glanced amid strange aquatic
plantS. where the wild birds came to drink.
On this day, through the gray fog, under
the old sycamore trees, gentleman came
and entering the porch of tho cottage, he
manipulated the heavy brass llnockcr most
vigorously.
But no one came to admit him, and his
repeated raps fell upon the heavy mahog
amy door with melancholy thuds that gave
back even not one echo. Then for the first
time he gazcd scarchingly about him-at the
shutters closed securely, at the curb of the
well where bucket hung, the iron bands
OF winch were red with rust. "a, the unswept
walks where the fallen leaves wero lying like
iiotsatn of furnished gold, at all the strange
d"soiation about him, and ho realized with
sudden pang of disappointment that the
villa Of Iilenfeld was deserted.
He left the porch, and catering an arbor
beside the fountaiA sat down to think.
But IIu%A Brandson's thoughts in that
hour were not altogether blissful. although
she of whom he was thinking had made the
sweet Summer Just gone forever the most
blsslul season of his life.
The lilies grew white on the pond
and golden in the meadows of Lilienfeld
when he first came down to the sea for a few
weeks OF rest, 10 meet eventually Dulcia St
| Aubyn, whose sweet smiles and happy
laughter had made this now deserted cot;
| tace so bright and CHEEKY.
lie had met her in asulficientlv romantic
| fashion. lie was coming down the sands
one evening when the tide was nearly in
when the sunset had touched with rose and
silver the beautiful sea, when thare came
to hm above the FLASHING of the waves the
cry OF human vo!ce-that thrilled his soul
He paused and listened as some en-.
chanted seaman of old might have done
hearing mermaid calling to hinl from her
bowers OF amber in the green depths Of the
ocean.
But it was no mermaids mystic song
Hugh Grandson heard it was no mermaid
whom he saw crouching on that distant
shiny rock, the hungry waters tapping her
bare white arms, her golden hair already
drenched with the cruel foam. lie saw
only fair woman hedged in by the rising
surf that was Kissing over its prey.
What happened in the next hour he
could never quite clearly remember. He
had sensation as Of plunging headlong
and recklessly into II seething, roaring
whirlpool, of fighting with waves that went
over him like cataracts, of CLEAN of gold
in the foam, and then Of turning toward
the shore bearing on one tired arm the form
of the rescued girl. More than this he
knew not until consciousness came to him
as he was lying, bruised, chilled, dazsd
somewhat still, on a dainty bed in pretty
room OF the picturesque cottage of Lilienfeld
warm tear fell upon his face and open.
ing his weary eyes he saw an elderly but
very handsome lady standing beside him.
am Mis-. st. Aubyn," she explained.
They brought you to Lilienfeld as was
quite the proper thing to do, for you will
need careful nursing for good many days
to come, and w are SO gratefu!-my dear
Dulcie and |, that you shall want nothing"
Dulcie," he murmered, thinking what
sweet name it was, and what a pleasant
voice and gentle aspect this lady had ais
she quite safe and we'll ?"
"Quite safe and well, thanks to you."
said most pleasing voice, and looking up
he saw shapely, stately girl dressed in an
exquisite costume of some delicate white
fabric with cluster of pink convolyul Gus
on her bosom.
Every detail of form, face and dress.
Hugh Grandson noted in that one quick
adnairing glance, and something in the
expression of the pale, perfect face and
large eyes, blue as morning glores stirred
his heart with an emotion he had never
known before.
" Is this lover he questioned his score t
soul as he watched her day by day the
charm of her fresh, girlish loneliness grow.
ing stronger upon him as the weeks came
and went.
The Summer was nearly gone. The
lilies were all dead and the wild roses were
growing pale on the hillsides, and the time
had come for Hugh Grandson to leave
Lilienfeld and Dulcio st. Aubyn.
On that last day he was utterly miserable.
lie knew he loved her, and he knew she
loved him, and he knew too that their
parting must be final.
How sad and thoughtful you ara
Hugh" she observed as they sat in ths
little arbor before the dancing fountain.
"Dulcie," he began quite bitterly "
can almsst wish that you and l had psr.
lshed that day-that we were DO h Wins
dead at the bottom of the ssa, your arms
about me, your head on my breast. II
seems to nae infinitely better for these who
love to be united in death than to be sepa.
rated fer dreary lifetime
She looked at him in mute wonder.
growing pale.
g have shocked and startled you.n bs
went ON, impstuously; "but you will not
hate me, Dulcie, when you know why | ann
so dissatisfied with my fate. Misery will
make one impious sometimes, and 1 an,
really very miserable. Dulcie, there was
once a man who scoffed at love, who con.
sldered the divine passion as q fine hobby
Tor poets, and pretty pastime for foolish
girls. This man was ambitious in his uav
ne wished to be honest in all things, and to
be honored by society. He wished to take
wife who would ba rich, handsome and
accomplished. Such lady his mother has
found for him. He has never seen her, but
ne AaS oorrsspondsd with her for months,
aud they are bstrothed, and before the snow
| fnlla IIlinnfnlI A L..