The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1884-07-23

iigntkeeper6 threshold at an
rate it had attached itself to her, an
she was at loss what to do wit
it.
/, AS we met and were passin
one another, she stopped AM
said:
You are going to the end of tn
pier? This little kitten has follow
ed me. l cannot let it leave its home
Will you think me rude if ask yo1
to take it with you ?"
i What could / say? | said tina
of course / would take it with pleas
ure, and in my heart of hearts
blessed the kitten tor having fol
lowed the lady with the lustrou
eyes. took it in my arms-it wa
a little friend of mine had playe'
with it a hundred times-and tn
lady thanked me with her eyes
and, bowling slightly, passe,
on.
i She came the next day, littl
later than before, her attendant will
her, and plucked up courage to ad
dress her.
/ was about % years old at tha
time, and / gathered from her look:
and manner that the lady was SOM
three or four years my senior, 81
that, in every way, | felt myself he
inferior.
1t was not withoutan effort that
lifted my hat, and said, timidly
that l had carried the kitten in safe
ty to its home. She thanked me
her voice was low. toned and mu
sical, and the dim, soft light of he
eyes shone on me while she
spoke.
]. She was so kind and gentle in be-
manner that in a moment or two
found myself talking freely ant
: without effort, and l turned and VIZ
walked on together.
! We paced the length of the piel
and back again slswly, and perhap:
for the space ofa hour. but to me il
was the shortest hour | had evel
spent. And yet we had spoken only
of things Indifferent. We had,
soon discovered. common interest
in the sea and sky. She loved them
both, she said, but only in theil
quiet moods. Happily the day was
one of preternstural softness ; the
waters scarcely trembled as they lay
ou:spread beneath us, and the azure
sky was hecked with cloudlets wo-
ven of gossamer. | asked whether
she intended to remain in South
beach, and she answered with some
reserve that she had visited i. under
medical advice, and did not know
what would be the length of her
stay. At any rate l was rejoiced to
think that she would not leave inn
mediately.
My interest in this pale, lovely
stranger deepened daily. We met
frequently, and it was sweet pleas
ure to me that she had quietly ac-
cepted me as friend, and allowed
me to share her walks on the narrow
wooden path above the sea. We
met nowhere else, though l knew
the house on the cliff where she had
taken rooms. | was not lsng in COM
ing to the decision that she was the
most extraordinarily interesting
creature | had ever seen. She had
read widely, and had the rare gift of
drawing upon her books in conver-
sation. My own reading had been
to some extent on similar lines with
hers we had both, for instance,
dipped pretty deeply into theology ;
and religion, and religious literature,
as | discovered, had an intense fas-
cination for her; chiefly: however
on the metaphysical and specula-
tive sides. Her affections were with
the church of the Middle Ages, at
the period of the dawn of Roman
ism and she wandered and won-
dered often amid the mazes of med
ieval mysticism.
1t was in this connection that she
once disclosed her inner self to me
more fully-and yet how slightly J
than she had ever done before it
was evening, the first evening that
we had walked together, for she
had always returned to the shore
with her maid at dusk. had look
ed for her all the afternoon, and was
leaving the pier disappointed, when
/ saw her coming.
The moon with sad steps !"
climbed the sky, and the multitu-
dinous stars shed quiet light upon
the sea.
The maid was with her, but walk
ing at greater distance than usual
in the rear. | had noticed from the
first that the relation between the
beautiful young mistress and her
maid was neither friendly nor an
intimate one. The maid, thought,
had a stolid and sullen air, ard
seemed devoid of that regard for her
mistress which l thought would have
been natural feeling in one who
stood in the position of protectress
to SO tender and gentle being.
My fancy had created for the lonely
visitant of the pier a history OF min
gled pathes and mystery, but it rest
ed on basis unsubstantial as air,
for she had never spoken of herself
except in phrases involuntary and
remote. This evening, when we had
reached the end of the pier and had
stood for a while watching the lights
flash upon the water from vessel
anchored in the distance, l noticed
that she was paler than usual, and
that her eyes, whose restless, wistful
glance always affected me strangely,
had an anxious and troubled look,
also a certain indescribable some
thing 1 had never seen in them be-
fore, l prevailed on her to sit, and
we placed ourselves on bench be-
meath the life-boat which, swinging
in chains overhead. formed a sort of
extempore roof.
1 wanted to speak to her, but knew
not how to begin. Presently, of her
own will, she turned and said. qui-
ely
"You have noticed something
strange in me-"