The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1880-07-22

Hau Deeu covert lInperllnence III Capt-
Fane's manner she could have borne it
better; but his voice was cold and matter
of fact, and his air that of man who an
swered simply question put to him.
What could she dol She would rather
die than put her hand on his arm again.
She felt almost on the verge of bursting
into tears. One moment, and she had
fed, leaving Fame sitting there with very
mixed feelings.
"After all, it served her right" he said
to himself.
Then he descended the stairs and left
the house.
1t was December afternoon, and Cap
tain Fayne was lying on sofa beside a
cozy fire. He had broken leg, and that
kept him quiet.
"What bad luck!' he kept saying to
himself. "Upon my word, it was very
good of that girl"
The explanation of these two remarks
is as follows: First, he had come down
to stay with friend for weeks hunt
ing, and his horse had fallen, rolled up
on him, broken his leg, and kicked him
in the head. Secondly, he had learned
that, while insensible, Miss Wylde, who
lived in the country, had ridden up, ex-
hibited the greatest nerve and presence
of mind, had caused him to be carried-to
neighboring cottage, and gone herself
at full speed for doctor.
"Upon my SOUL" said Fame to himself,
81 think if I'd been a woman, and man
had said to me what I did to her, he
might have lain there for me-"
He was alone and found it dull, so he
tried to amuse himself by thinking.
"After all, they say she is not bad
GIRL, he mused. ga weak, silly mother,
and got hold of by fast, good for moth
ing woman like Lady Blanc Dasshe.-
Thank goodness, she is gone off, so she
won't have the chance of spelling any
more girlsl'
The door opened and who should come
in but Miss Wylde, and alone. She walk
ed straight up to him, and said with quite
friendly nod:
"Well, and how are you getting on?'
She was looking lovely; a slight color
in her cheeks, more than lustre in her
deep-colored eyes, and her figure set off
to perfection by the neatest of habits.
Fame felt covered with confusion. If
she had forgotten that little episode at
the ball, lie had not.
Excuse my not being able to rise, " he
stammered. 'I-l-beheve-I am told
that l owe a great deal to YOU
ooh, no; not at ALL" she answers,
bringing small ciT,zir and sitting down
beside him, SO that the freight plays on
her really charming face. 81 met Mrs.
Aylmer, and she told me you were here
alone, and that it would be charity to
come and talk to you. did not feel al
together sure of that" with ring of
mockery in her tone, "because, you know,
conversation can't be all on one side, and
you have not the remotest idea what to
say to me as you once said.
Fane's confusion is really painful.
care you fond of music?" inquiries
Miss Wylde, after a moments pause, 1ur-
ing which she seemed to enjoy his dis
comfiture.
"Passionately," he answers.
She rises and opens the piano, plays a
few soft chords, and then she sings in
the sweetest voice he has ever heard
And as he listens with delight that
grows to rapture, he forgets what he has
thought of her in the past, and looks at
her almost with reverence, as though she
were some white winged angel. From
song to song she goes, all tender, pathet-
ic, harmonious, till suddenly she breaks
into q snatch OF music hall song.
Stop! for heavens sake, stop! almost
shrieks Fame, so loud that she looks at
him startled, and gets up from the piano.
"How could you," he says reproach-
fully, latter you had carried me right up
into heavens"
ooh, she answerers coolly enough,
81 did not know how your particular
taste ran. Bournemouth, is a brainless
jack" cries Fame, with intense irritation.
Il suppose" observes Miss Wylde,
calmly, seating herself at little distance
from him, "that it is in India's burning
cline you acquired your charming habit
OF outspokennessl"
Il am brute, he says, contritely,
"and beg you ten thousand pardons.-
But to see you looking like an angel, to
hear your exquisite voice, and then to be
brought down with run to the memory
| of low music-hall-"
''Thank you, returns his companion.
81 will take the sweet with the bitter,
and try to get them to mix"
She sits and talks for half an hour
quite sweetly and gently, without once
saying anything to vex him.
"You will come again won't you?" he
urges, in tones of deepest entreaty, as he
holds the hand she gives him at parting.
Perhaps, she says, with tantalizinp
smile from her wonderful eyes.
When she has gone Fame lies back an6
thinks what a madness of delight it would
be to have those eyes always looking al
him with that expression. But it would
be madness of quite another kind, he
reflects, to see them fixed in the same
way on any other man.
4 week goes by. Alan is still confined
to the sofa. and every day, regularly, hi:
/ lovely visitant comes in and sings and
/ talks to him. In the whole week not one
trace of her cloven foot has appeared. =
| On the seventh day, as she sits beside