The Osceola times., 1880-12-25

10 nnu tIdt you anu HI ol YOURS ldu ltit
Romc-had left it with insult and oblo-
guy to me. As for the dancing girl-my
Cod is it possible? You believe that of
mel | ask nothing more Of you" And
heard his steps ringing on the shingle;
and then Marion had sunk down where
she was, in storm of uncomfortable
sobs, from knowledge of which ! crept
away like a contemplate eavesdropper,
for those sobs said more than either she
or Raymonde had. But if had stirred
before il would only have increased the
trouble, after all.
1t was the night for the band to play;
but | did not see Marion that evening
among all the gay couples, till just before
eleven o'clock she was visible, leaning
against an open window way, in her
creamy Grape, and her shawl of red Ma
deira lace like crimson cobweb round
her hair and shoulders, not trace of
tears or of any emotion on her proud and
lovely face, as she listened rather dream
ily to the music, took one turn down the
room with Mr. Manson, and going up the
stairs, in her slow, calm way Of doing
everything, passed Mr.. Raymonde com
ing in wild and wet from the sea. kept
my own council, and rather pleased my
self with the idea of being the single spec
tator of the spectacle.
II was day or two before Mr. Ray
monde appeared upon the scene-delving
| at his sketches in his own rooms, they
said-and then as naturally as ever he
sauntered down among the bathers, and
| took his dip, and frolicked with the
children as usual Water did not make
him look as it does some people; the
more he was wet the closer curled the
dark rings of his hair, that had only a
long wave in it when dry, and the rich
color lighted his cheek, that was always
80 pale on shore. Marion, too, was one
of those women that are not ruined by
sea bathing; she came down to the brink
completely wrapped in her long, thick
| white cloak, which one of the Mercer
maids became useful for once by taking,
and the moment that she was in the wa
ter the waves all seemed to flow down
from her shoulders like folds of a gar
ment about her, and rs she swan away
| she was more like Nereid than board
er at the Beach house. But l suppose
even q Nereid might have had a cranp,
or shark or other sea monster seize her
beautiful foot, or something of the sort;
for one morning, as sat on rock sketch
ing the bathing scene, there was a cry
from Sallie and Charlotte and the rest,
but none at all from Marion, who had
| thrown up her arms and gone under.
| Arthur Santley was swimming to the
spot directly, followed by young May
| bank, and almost before one knew it IA
boat was putting out from shore, when
Mr.. Raymonde, who had been playing
with the children at the side of the little
bathing cove, and had dived at once, now
appeared swimming in. with Marion's
| head over his shoulder and wading up
the sands, he delivered her to the howl
ing maids and Mrs. Mercer, and stalked
away to his dressing room.
Of course Mr. Raymonde was hero
for the rest of the day, though he begged
off from some of the worship by declar-
ing that it was nothing to him, for he had
| spent his days rescuing drowning maid
ems. But Marion was not down stairs.
confess | was little curious TO know
what Marion would say to him when
they met, or if she would send for him to
| thank him. But my curiosity was not
likely to be gratfed, and nobody knew
| of her sending for him, and after she re-
appeared she probably said nothing, and
they passed and repassed with the Gus
tomary Indifferent inclination.
81 declare" exclaimed Sallie once, as
she witnessed the movement, and before
Raymonde was really out of hearing, 81
don't believe she has ever thanked the
man for saving her life!"
perhaps she doesn't thank him." said
| Miss Carmen. "Miss Mercer always acts
as though life were a gift not worth the
| taking"
Still | saw that Marion did not go into
| the water again without a shudder, and
presently ceased to go at all, although
she went down to the shore with the rest.
She was standing alone at the head of
the cove looking out seaward, not far
from my sketching block, when Ray
monde came down one morning. and
joined her so unexpectedly that she
started,
perhaps Miss Carmen's words were
true" he said and you really do not
think life gift worth thanks"
''Oh no." she answered quietly. "Life
is very precious. But do not think of
thanking you for what you could not
help doing l do not suppose you would
let dog drown before your eyes"
"You flatter me-" no said, and remain
|
either would have said anything mora,
there was no chance for the scurrying
and scampering with which the bathers
hurried up the cove, having seen man
eater, or a sea serpent, or an old log, or
something Of the sort riding along its
outer reach. But if either had spoken,
| | made up my mind 1t would have had
| to be Raymonde; the solid armament
| might crack, but since he had said that
he asked nothing more of her, nothing
was his portion. for all Of Marion. She
did not thank him for saving her life,
said to myself she would rather have
died than have owed it to him; and !
noticed that although her manner was
only shade less haughtily distant to
others, vet her smile would smetimes
come when Arthur Stanley brought her
flowers, and she never refused Mr., Mum
son the dance or the drive he asked, and
was possibly degree kinder TO others II
RyWondc was seeing it all, kindness
from her in her coldness and her sweet
ness having tia eiiect to them Of kind
ness from some young q,csD, ] thought
it little singular that Raymonde did not
leave the beach, but then he had estab-
lisl,al himself and taken his rooms for
the season, and it would perhaps have
been absurd to allow himself 70 be driven
away. Aiter all, did it signifyq Did he
carcP 4 month had passed, and he had
hardly glanced at Marion, save once or
twice with furtive sparkle in his eye
that sslmed to break all his melancholy
up in anger