Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1884-10-29
(From the San Francisco Argonaut.l
A DANGEROUS LOVE.
soENE I.

SCENE I. = e'sts-
A winter day; a cold sky full of snow
dancing down in joyless vivacity, to
cover, with negligent charity, the ugly
town and hide its curious air of incom-
pletion. The walls of adobe and stone,
the incongruities of design, the irregu-
lar, uneven streets full Of rock in the
rough, together with hill setting of
numerous abandoned prospect holes
and rudimentary tunnels, gave whim
steal suggestion that Titans had left un-
finished town they had been cutting
out from the earth's raw material.
This was the outside aspect as seen
through a pair of tall windows, with
curtains stretched back to gather every
ray of light from the dim, dull sky.
That light, scant as it was, brought out
the homelike cheer within. The warm
red of carpet and casual fittings COM
forted the eye. At the windows broad
shelves full of plants that gave the sole
suggestion of luxury, barring the aro-
matte brilliance of fragrant cedar fire.
A room of whose possibilities the most
had been made, full of the personality
of its tenants-a room where man was
very apt to get a sense of repose and
ministration-chiefr requirements Of the
masculine nature.
Edward Lamb found its effect like
that, leaning at ease in a homely big
chair that had the knack, like all the
chairs at this house. of fitting the human
frame. A large, fair man, slightly in
chning to stoutness, he was of that type
of Irish beauty that involves handsome,
clear skin, flushed with delicate rosi-
ness, abundant blonde hair and deep
blue eyes, with more deep tenderness
than was strictly essential behind their
long, thick lashes.
I'm very fearful I'm in for another
fortnight" he said; "not much chance
of the roads opening while this sort of
thing goes o."
Miss Soulsby left the window and
came back to her low seat on the hearth,
laughing. The Impotence of his words
was so completely at variance with the
deiberation and contentment of his
tone.
"Possess your soul in patience" she
said. 1T is only question of days for
you, and then" She made an ex-
pressive little gesture of farewell and
departure.
"And your ARE you coming east
some day?"
ooh, yes" she answered with GER
tain blithe skepticism, "when we sell
minei"
Mr.. Lamb- smiled at her satirical
touch upon the sanguine creed of the
camp. "Ledyard was wondering what
could keep me here" he said, incense
.quently; "a Bohemian born, for whom
the noise and hurry of cities is as the
breath of life."
Madelon Soulsby looked at him in
tently. "Well," she said little sharply,
"what has kept you?" aa D
And yet he knew that she was per-
fectly aware what had kept him. Idlers
both, they could hardly have counted
the long, companionable afternoons
they had spent together that winter.
The little town was agog with the Irish
mans infatuation. 1t would have need
ed more than their joint asseveration to
have convinced the gossips that be-
tween these two no love-making had
been. fse &AsEa 80
eyes, ought to have gone last week, !"
he said, ignoring her audacity, when
Ledyard went"
"Why did you not go?" she persisted.
The household cat had leaped upon
her lap-a vicious big beast, whose
claws had a wicked way of unsheathing
themselves upon fonding fingers. Mr.
Lamb found himself dwelling on the
fact that he had never seen Dick SO re-
quite Miss Soulsby's careless endear-
ments. The lazy creature laid himself
1uxuriOusly across her knees II Ia q oraaH
gray muff, as the girl nestled her hands
on his warm fur-deiicate hands those,
always cold; not clammy, but cold with
firm and reticent force of their own.
Some day-who knows?-it may be
made penal offense-their exercise of
this capacity some women have for in
direct challenge; this tactic wooing that
perhaps overweighs mans prerogative
of outspeaking. saE2tE6E EA
Edward Lamb was phlegnatic man
enough ordinarily and little given to
impulses; but just now he would have
bartered his souls salvation for the
right to displace Dicks parted fur with
his own handsome fair head, to feel that
caressing touch press down his throb-
bling eyelids. 70 his dying day he
would not forget the picture that in
slant photographed on the retina of his
heart. For him, hereafter, no wonder
of art nor revelation of living beauty
could dispel the memory of the graceful,
girlish shape whose quietude told ORE
preston, not inertia; the air of absolute
gelf-confdence and cool, impartial self
disdain; the bright face, with that mock
ing phase of mingled wooing and warn