The Jackson standard. [volume] (Jackson C.H., Ohio) 1847-1888, 1882-10-12

O1. -GuOSC t1iC Gllc VIII OlSGtI
Hks," she cried with more animation,
I dhe- brown finger pointing over his
shoulder, 'and the Lions Head. That's
just like-but the sea isn't that color ~
1.-THE sea is any color; you have not
looked at it enough
| not look at the sea enough" she
said in a low, curious voice; II look
at scarce aught else.' Then she
changed her tone again, rs it difficult
to paint?"
''Try and see"
''Are you a great painter-in Lon
don-you come from London, the
folks say?"
mo, I'm not, I'm only middling at
everything; I break my heart over
trying at it.
"That's pity; why don't you give
it up? But perhaps it's your living ?"
mo, I'd make poor living if it
were. But it's part of my life, l can't
give it up"
You're that fond of it?'
Il don't know; | love it and I hate
it, but it's part Of my life. Now,
Miss Trevarroch, be very good to me
go and lean against that bit of red
rock and I'll try and get you in
She laughed a short but merry
laugh. Get me in the picture? If
you like; but Miss Trevarroch! how
queer it sounds. I'm no miss, sir"
''What are you-to such as me?"
''Plain Mary Trevarroch to you and
every one else, sir"
''Well, Mary, then please to go and
do what | said, unless you are busy?'
mo, I've nothing much to do.
Mother is cleaning the house for to-
morrow" tomorrow was Sunday.
How shall I put myself?''
Anyhow, you can't go wrong; and
talk to me while | paint, | shall get
on all the better"
II haven't much to talk about
why not? everything is new and
interesting to me here; tell me about
your life.
There's nought in that that would
amuse you" she answered in dull,
dreary voice, that reminded him of
her mother; sit would be better for
7ou to tell me how ladies live, who
are gay and 4, happy gG al and d have nought
Il don't know many happy ladies
in London-plenty who are gay
enough. To me it would seem ever SO
much happier here at Penruth out of
the noise and the hustle, with this
free, sweet, salt air blowing from over
the sea. Don't let's talk about Lon
don, I am trying to forget any world
but this. ."
"Ah-" she said in quiet way, SITS
happy for yow here perhaps; you know
nought of how we live in Penruth. ,
"Do you want to go somewhere
else? would it make you happier?''
II don't look to be happy" she an
swered, turning her eyes from him
Gas for going away, sometimes
think l want to, sometimes | think
I'd want to come back. I've never
in all my life been ten miles from
Peuruth, but I've read about places.
''Do you care for reading, then?"
IT used to when I was a girl; oul
parsons wife had me great deal with
her and lent me books, and Will wa
fond of reading. in winter evenings.
There was a silence, and then Mary
said quite calmly, will was the maj
| was to marry. He's dead"
"You talk of when you were girl,
Vincent said, dashing into words t.
save himself from some embarrass
ment; you are young enough now.
Turned two-and-twenty. don
feel young" ..-..
you've gone through great deal,
he said in low voice, tender will
sympathy.
She looked at him with a kind o
, surprised gratitude, she was entirel,,
unused to such sympathy, and i
moved her deeply. Her composur
left her, and her under lip trembled.
"Oh! I have, | haver she said in
voice depened by her emotion; ''ho1
kindly you speak to me; who told yo
, about it?"
"Your mother and others, and your
self saw you before" "
; She hlushed deeply. "Where?"
"Down in the little cove there, III
7 der that cliff. | saw in your face tha
you had suffered
r She turned away her head, and pu
a one hand over her eyes. Il dldn'
KNOW" she said, just above her breatl
@ Il never saw you. Don't talk OF
now"
Vincent had tact enough not t
! keep the same chord sounding, b
: chatted away about hundred thing
The dark eyes came back to him, an
h she was again the rather dignife,
j, matter-of-fact self that he had sta
tied away.
It TO BE CONTINUED.