The San Antonio light. (San Antonio, Tex.) 1883-1886, 1885-04-18
EISNGE-
Count Won Lindenheim.

and she was quite grave as she accom-
panied him In silence fora few minutes.
And then, as II shaking of the shadowy
anxiety: What sunworshiper you
are" she said. "You are never happy
unless he Is shining down upon You.
DO YOU feel the cold very muchy"
Very much. only live in the sum-
mer."
You are not strong" she said, more
as If stating a fact than asking ques-
tiun.
81 am much stronger than | was" he
answered. evasivcly.
She looked up at him quickly, as II To-
read the truth of his words in his face.
But she did not speak. Neither did he,
though he did not turn his eyes away,
but let them rest on hers.
She hesitated second, then gave
quick little sigh. But, 1T Is apity for
a man not to be strong" was all she
said.
1T makes their lives more difficult"
he answered.
They were standing nowon the broad
terrace, up and down which peaCOCks
were Haunting, apparently well pleased
with the attention they were exciting.
Sydney in her white dress and large
shady hat, her grave eyes looking steadi-
" over the meadows beneath, far away
to where shone the river in the sunlight
Not once did she lift them to the man
standing beside her, with fair, uncover
ed head, hiscycs following the direction
of hers.
At last "Lct us 60 down." he said.
"DOwn to the river, mean. We shall
not he able to do IL very much oftener."
And whyY' she interrupted, lifting
her eyes swiftly.
son. the weather will change-or |
!, 60
end"
Everything comes to the end" she re-
peated softly. is that 50, ! wonderY
| II is rather Il hard world, is tnOt, when
one comes to think that that is the text
of itY'
He did not answer.
Down by the river the glory of the
sunset was beginning to fade, and
faint gray shadow seemed to haunt the
river. The only sign of life was tall,
! black rObed woman's figure across The
water, vending her homeward way over
the lields-dark and distinct against the
sky; and u smallerdark figure of achild,
that ran about hitherand thither search
| ing for flowers, needless of its mother.
at is sad" Sydney said. Somehow,
the moment of sunset is always Il little
suggestive of -lonelness-sad-
ness. One feels something has been
taken out of our life"
"MadCmOiscllC."
II was no answer to her words, no
common. ON them that was coming.
The tones were little eXcitcd-a GER
tain thrill in them which seemed to
presage the coming of something
| special.
sydney turned her head with GER
| tain consciousness of the unusualnesS
of his voice, and almost instinctiyely
took II step away from him, shaking off
her dreaminess rs she did so. But as
she so moved, before his next word
reached her, there rang through the still
| simmer evening air shrill, terrified
scream, that, before 1t had time to die
away, was caught up and echoed in a
woman's agonzcd tones, and then: 1T
il the child" Sydney cried. "Oh, see!"
Iointng to where Il small dark head
showed on the smooth current. Then
she was aware in Il misty, uncertain
fashion-for eyes and brain for the mo-
ment alike seemed clouded-that the
man beside her had moved forward to
the edge of the steep bank that formed
the border of the river, and that She
was it indeed shey-with hands tight
clasped about his arm, was imploring
him to stay. Was it her own vOicep
Not you. Oh, do not go."
She felt the hold of her hands loosen
ed. 1t seemed to her she felt also q
light kiss upon them ere they were re-
leased, and then they were hanging
down by her side, and She was staining
straight and tall on the bank, the sun
shining broadly down, and she realized
all in moment, that She, in her white
gown, and that other ack-robed figure
opposite, were both alike standing, one
on either side of the river, waiting and
praying for the life that was dearest to
them on earth.
But though she felt il she did not
move, did not even clasp her hands
could not even think. Past and to come
even the present seemed vague and UNI
defined compared with the golden sun
light that was writing her love in letters
of fire across the evening sky and greer
meadows, even in faint reflective fash
ion, on the surface of the flowing river
lie was across now-the little dark
headed child was safe in its mothers
arms; the blonde-haired man was hold
' ing the mothers hand, and listening
doubtless to the words that her love
and gratitude prompted.
And now through the sunlight, lit
tie flame of gold all about him, he ha'
turned quickly away toward the bridge
that hall mile off formed the connect
, ing link between Hayes and the yillag
OF Morland.
And as he thus turned away, though
and the power of movement seemed u
return to her.
4 Her first instinct was to try and real
: ize what she had said and done in Ties
last few moments; her second, to haste
) toward her home and the prOtectin
4 presence that there awaited her. Their
= was something calming i'll the though
}, of the kind old man TO whom her adyen