The Donaldsonville chief. [volume] (Donaldsonville, La.) 1871-current, 1885-06-27

says must prove my gratitude by silence
l speak of it to you, because think hi
mother, who is all invalid and a widow
would be glad of your society. She rarel
sees any one; think the society of a youn
girl would be Of service to her. As TO
Gerald, he never goes anywhere except OF
business. He will not let me see it, but
know that he feels his affection sorely ant
| after what he has done for me l canno
speak to him as I would to any other of m.
parishioners.n
81 will try to make their acquaintance,
said Hilda slowly, and at afternoon service
she studied the face of the grave, intellect
ual looking man. He struck her at first ii
being quite boy, but found that it was hi
delicaoy that seemed to soften the face int
youthfuiness even while saddening it. Fl.
could not be less than twenty-seven o.
twenty eight, she thought, and then bega1
to compose her mind for the service, bu
tagain her thoughts were brought earthware
by the entrance of Ronald. He came
i quietly to the seat beside her and without
! ! Speaking handed her the little bouquet hf
| invariably brought to church.
| They were reverent christians, and he toe
true a gentleman to show her the slightest
attention in the church. Her heart haC
found out long ago that there was not 6
better nor truer man living than Ronald
Tracy of Carrisbroke, Shropshire. Ah
Hilda, there is one just as noble and good
only few yards distant, cripple, whose
only fault is sensitive pride. Toward the
close of service Hilda found his large mel
ancholy dark eyes fixed upon her face, but
i as she met them with faint, friendly smile,
they fell upon the flowers in her hand.
''Poor fellow, he wants my flowers
she thought She hated to part with Ronald s
flowers, but then when Ronald himself was
as much her own, what matter? "He must
be very poor" she considered, ''I will give
him my flowers" AS usual sho gave no
thought to the oddity of the proceeding, but
as they passed him in the crowd she took
advantage of an unnoticed moment. plac-
ing her flowers and prayer book into her
handkerchief she dropped them into his
hand.
81 shall expect you to bring them to me- y
she said softly, and passed on gracious and
stately before he could recover from his
surprise.
She thinks am poor" he thought, with
a panied flush, and yet amused. It was al
together SO charming that he forgot his
pride in his happiness. "Where am to
bring them to?" he smiled to himself: then
her object in leaving the book occurred to
him, and unfastsning the little golden clasp
he found as he had expected, her name and
address on the fy-leaf With radiant face
he walked out, feeling as if wings and not
crutches supported him.
She, it must be confessed, felt pang
of regret for what she had done. She might
have given the flowers without the name,
and waited for chance introduction to
both mother and son. She determined
never again to act on impulse and woman
like decided that she ought to have done it.
Such forlorn, lonely human being she
had never seen. 1t was certainly her duty
to cheer all such. And Ronald wondered
all the evening what allied her that she was
SO still.
CHAPTER II.
This life of ours is a wild Eolian harp of
many a Joyous strain,
But under them all their runs a loud, perpetual
wall, as of souls III PAIN
-LonGfello1u.
Gerald's courage came and went during
the days after that happy Sunday. His SEN
sitive pride struggled with his intense de-
sire to see the angel whom his fancy had
created. Az angel with blue-gray tender
eyes, and glorious auburn hair that changed
color from darkest brown to rich golden
as the light fell upon it, curling in little
ringlets all about her flower
like oval face, with its sweet womanly
mouth and little determined chin. People
were wont to assert that her power of con-
troll was outlined in that bewitching little
firm chin, but many insisted that it lay in
her truthful, llstrous eyes,
:. Too pure and too honest in augiit to disguise,
1 AS o"Soo o'ul sIiiiiih4 lHiouSfl
Gerald's courage departed, when on the
third day he presented himself before Miss
Ranesford. She seemed to have guessed
that he would be there on that special day,
for there were no other visitors, and size
met him with such a gracious smile and
little half apology that his ease
returned at once and he entirely forgot
pride and everything else in his pleasure
She flushed when the prayer book alone
was returned to her, looked as if about to
ask for the missing handkerchief, changed
her mind and was altogether SO charming
that she had either forgotten or did not
mind its abduction, he thought. He was
mistaken, for she was vexed, and as he
made no little imbecile speech about it,
she guessed rightly that he had kept it prr-
posely as a keepsake; and was angry until
the subject was dismissed from her mind
AS the summer advanced he became a
more frequent visitor. His lameness made
no difference to her he could see. She did not
seem to pity him in the least, and forced
him imperceptibly into the circle of her
friends as if sensitiveness was thing un-
heard of. Once, it seemed by accident
that they discussed the subject, and Hilda
with utter and perfect careless
ness little speech which had been care
fully prepared-a speech which made him
happy to the day of his death. She did not
consider lameness in the light of an Attic
ton, save to a very ill-tempered person.
She did not see anything to pity in it.
'' You, for instance she said calmly, have
the use of every faculty. and though not as
strong as some men, you have no need to
be, you are not obliged to do manual la
fdr li,,i1,cx Xo1,