The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1881-11-03

-uuS Out uoiO CiCai, hOi SaJ SaidCo VI
wit and repartee been more sparkling;
but ever from time to time the eye roved
restlessly to the open window, where, on
the parterre beyond, shone the red light
of a mans cigar.
1t was still there, still cleaning, when
she had gone up to her own room. She
crossed to the window to pull down the
shade, but stood minute, fascinated,
motionless.
after tonight he will forget me- she
murmered, sadly. And II shall re-
member him forever!'
Then, as though sudden truth had
burst upon her, she drew down the shade
to throw herself with quick, impetuous
motion, prone upon the couch, and weep
the first heart tears she had ever shed.
The drama has ended-Miss Allison
has refused him!' This was the general
verdict when, twenty-four hours later,
Bayard Hunter bade his hostess adieu,
and withdrew to town on plea of sudden
business.
Of course the news reached Sydney's
ear.
4 have not refused him. she said,
aloud. Not even that satisfaction is
mine,' she said to herself-'nor ever will
be! 1t was only 'the might have beenl"
He was not the man, she knew full
well, to plunge desperately into firta-
ton, or associate his name at once with
another woman's, or to retire later or rise
earlier or in any way disturb the even
tenor of his way. The difference be-
tween them was only this-his heart was
healing, perhaps already healed, but he
would bear its scar to the grave; hers was
a fostering sore, which hurt the more
that she had let the physician who might
work its cure, pass her by.
The summer waned to a close. Nature
had lent autumn its wondrous paint box
and magic brush, and mountain and hill
side were converted thereby into glorious
beauty. Then came King Frost, first to
heighten by his touch, then to kill. fol-
lowed by winters tagging foot steps,
mercifully bearing the exquisite white
shroud of snow to cover up all signs of
devastation and decay.
The season in the gay world was at its
height. Occasionally, murmurs among
the debutantes for its honors arose to the
fact that, though Miss Allison's fourth
winter, her former success paled in its
most effulgent light.
She and Bayard Hunter constantly
met. She almost wished he might avoid
her, but at their first chance encounter
he had approached with outstretched
hand.
How charmingly you are looking Mioo
Allison he had said.
And all in vain she had watched for 8
tremor in his tone, Or a shadow of en-
barrassment in his manner.
Only week between him and ship
wreck! she thought, bitterly. 'Ah, he
has sailed so far from the fatal rock, that
doubtless he would now laugh at its sup
posed danger; and II was weak and
vain enough to think he stood upon the
precipice's brinkl'
The new year had come, and one even
ing Sydney stood alone in her fathers
drawing room, looking out at the fast
gathering darkness, when through it's
sombre shade she saw figure pass and
mount the steps.
"A visitorl' she muttered YEARLY; then
waited the inevitable announcement she
knew must follow.
But spite of her every effort she started
when the servant, throwing open the
door, uttered Mr.. Hunters name. Oh,
how glad she was that the rooms were
not yet lighted as she went forth to re-
ceive himi
May l welcome you in darkness2' she
questioned.
AS you will, he answered. 4 have
but few minutes to stay. I am come
to bid you goodbye, and to ask you to
wish me bon voyage
Bon voyage! You are going abroad2'
Yes; I sail on Saturday. I hesitated
about calling, but my desire to see you
led me TO believe you would pardon my
audacity in supposing my going ques-
ton of enough moment to make it worthy
special call.
My friends are always welcome Mr..
Hunter. 1 did not suppose it necessary
you should hear that repeated now.'
Nor is it. 1t was only morbid fancy
on my part which induced me to ques-
ton it. / shall come back, trust, with
my mind clearer. At least 1 shall be
some years old er. When return I pre-
sumo 1 shall look for Miss Auisonv in ain,
until find her in some matron, equally
charming. / cannot imagine her quite
staid and portly.
So he could speak thus lightly of her
becoming the wife of another man? And
he was going away; she might never
again hear his voice nor see his face. It
was too cruel!
He and fate were TOO strong for her.
The tears gathered in the gray eyes, but
the darkness hid them.
He ratified on-she had no need TO
speak. Then he rose to GO.
Goodbye, Miss AIlison!'-he took
her hands in both his-'good bye2 God
bless youi'
Was it her fancy that just at the last
his voice trembled?
He crossed the room; he had gained
the door. Another instant he would be
| gone-another instant it would be toe
| late.
'Bayard! she said, softly.
Two strides, it seemed brouobt him