The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1884-12-04
HIS LIFE's ONE HOLIDAY.
BY LILLIAs CAMPBELL DAVIDSON.

BY LILLIAs CAMPBELL DAVIDSON.
Huntingdon Wayne was thirty-five,
and had never yet been in love. He
had worked hard and well, and had
made a fortune which even he thought
would enable him to marry without be-
ing recklessly imprudent; and he began
to think it was time to decide upon a
wife who should satisfy his somewhat
fastidiOus requirements. She must be
of a stately and noble presence
Wayne had rather an idea of a fine wo-
man;-not too young, nor too emotional
Wayne was person who hated
man made to order, and he found it
more difficult to discover her than he
had at first supposed.
1t was with feeling of something
as akin to failure as his well-regulated
mind ever indulged in that he ordered
his portmanteau packed for 4 fort
nights visit to Newton-on-Sea, and tore
himself away from the fascinations of
club and office life, to pay a long prom
ised visit to his old friend, DIR. Mar
shall. He had seen nothing of the
Marshalls for years past, though there
was tie of old associations between
them, and even something of sadder
interest. Five years ago, when Wayne's
uncle offered him a berth in the tea
business of which he was now the
head, he extended like offer to Hunt
ingdon's younger brother, Jack; but
Jack, always something of hot-head-
ed fellow, took offense at some word or
deed of his elders, and refused the
offer. Soon after he took some post on
the east coast of Africa, and went out
with high hopes of the fortune he was
to bring back and lay at Hettie Mar
shalls feet.
Huntingdon heard of the engage
ment with contempt for the folly of
two young people without q penny;
but when, three years later. news came
of poor Jacks death out in Zanzibar,
the little bride that was to have been
passed out of his mind, and it was only
when an invitation came for him from
the Marshalls, who were at Newton-on-
Sea for Hetty's health, that the thought
of her existence crossed him again.
He had not seen her since she was q
little child in pinafores; and when he
was brought up, on the evening he ar
mock swung between two tall pine
trees, and introduced to slight, pale
girl, whose great blue eyes were raised
TO his with a pathetic gentleness and
sweetness, a feeling such as in all his
thirty-tive years of sensible life he had
never before experienced shot through
him with thrill of wonder, and almost
beWilderment. He took in his own the
small, fragile, white fingers, and then
laid them down almost reverently on
the soft cushions amidst which she lay.
1 suppose if any one had asked him
then and there whether he believed in
love at first sight, he would have ans
Hered as contemptuously as ever; and
vet, for all that, he was as deep in
love as ever man fell at one blow. He
told himself it was pity-a pity that on
ly grew as the days passed by, and he
saw how delicate creature her great
trouble of two years since had left her;
it seemed to him it was his duty to try
and atone to her for all the suffering
and loss she had undergone; as if his
life ought to make up to her for Jack 5
death, somehow. Strange that duty
had never had such a zest and pleas
ure in it before!
She was thing SO new to his expeF-
ience, with her pleading blue eyes, her
soft little ways, and the pathGs that
hung about all she did and said. Wayne
used to sit and watch her furtiyely, as
if she was q creature of some unknown
race.
Three days after the tirstevening and
the hammock, the ideal "fine woman"
of 70
turn; and before the week was over he
had said to himself-he. the practical,
cool-headed Huntingdon Wayne-that
life without little Hettie would hardly
be worth the living, and that he must
have her for his own or die. Practical
conmon-sensical men often take the
hardest form of the disease called love.
He spoke to DR.. Marshall before the
middle of the second week, and asked
his consent to win Hetty. The doctor
listened with good deal of surprise,
but no appearance of displeasure; and
when Wayne had finished he grasped
him heartily by the hand.
my dear fellow, he said, with some
thing between a smile and sigh, ''you
have nv heartiest consent and my best
wishes, if you can get Hetty to say
Yes You are almost part of poor
Jack, and there's no one else | should
so gladly call my son. OF course il
all rests with Hetty; but know she
does not dislike you, and you Elust
trust to time for the rest. Love such
as she gave poor Jack, perhaps the
same woman never gives twice over
but there's no reason she shouldn't love
YOU we'll, and make you good wife
The grief of two years back is passing
away-it is more the physical state left
by the shock of thar time that wears on
her now. Perhaps she will never be
very robust. but you will take good
care of her, I'm certain"
.'She shall be strong again, please
God. if can make her so by myidevo
tion." said Huntingdon, while visiof
of unspeakable happiness danced be
fore his minds eyes-a snOw-white
Yacht cruising among smiling island:
in summer sea, seeking health for hel
who was its queen.
I'm leave the business to look aftel
ITSELF" he thought, with glow of rap
ture, land travel round the world witt
her till the color comes back to hel
pale face, and the light to her eyes
! yes, and the happiness to her heart.
So the fortnight wore away, and an
other was well nigh gone, and We
Wayne fingered at Newfon-on-Sea. HI
was never away from Hetty's side; h'
/ fetched and carried for her like dog
he was q slave to her every wish. DIR