Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1885-11-08

rRox rHE oERxAT,


ITO wander with no oojecS Wus'o'o'
sacross the Geld and out into the beau
{iful summer world, whore II y path
loss and bridgeless, and Wild sno
lonely---that Il refreshing" said ths
nlender!y formed woman, IS she dreH
: deem breath and pressed hcr face ioi
: moment into the large bouquet o.
mspv-colorcd fisld~nowers which he'
prettv little hand could scarcely span
uYo, loved that once, too. Arnold. We
have often gypsied around together ,
without PLAZA or object, IS to-day
Then ------"
"Tben. in childhood's days." said
the man Al her side, taking up the I'M
Sr;sbed sentence. "Later, there were
others psrmistcd to gyps with you, So,
I,rs and /. now, have in fact al
INV hs long gone thus, scross the
AKA, through the world, where 1t was
rsthiess and bridgelcss, yet Alone"
She sighed softly. That has KEEP,
Won young, Arnold. Time has mol
dealt SO Hghtly with me. had always
70 take the monotonous, straight, foot.
trodden paths, following the steps o.
others. That Is so tiresome.
For the first time, then. recognize
fully and entirely how painful 70 my
life Was the loss Of the companion o.
NV youth, his active mind, his iresn
h.srt--snd across the field for two "
Her eyes, for 8 second me. nus
which looked into her face win 'ne
cn;st sympathetic speech Of past days,
nd che added Do you not SEQ thas
/ am tireds" ,.r,.
.Yes. y replied he, frankly. 1.-THE
roses Of your cheeks have paled, ana
some soft lines Of sorrow have imprint
ed themselves upon your white brow.
In other respects oil is as then
in this dear, proud, little face Liie has
shown less indulgence TO me. Do you
see the light threads in my har' BE-
lipa;"
al Here and there one. But other
wiss-alas! Arnold, i believe we dare
not question one another about those
things. Memory deludes. Through
her class we see what is furthest from
us in hmperishsble youth and beauty"
"You are right, Selma. While /
am now strolling thus with you along
these well-known paths, between the
same fields Of grain, whose powerful
fragrance at that time refreshed the
boy-while to-day, as then, the depart
ing sun is weaving a glowing crown Of
roses for your dark hair--all that lies
between appears to me as a dream. l
would that mean while had come TO
YOU, If only for brief interchange of
thought, for a fieeting across the
field"
The lips Of the beautiful woman
slightly trembled, and shade Of def
ance passed into her melodious voice as
she rejoined:
"That / expected too long, long
and forgot at last to wait. / could not
call you, on account Of my husband,
who--surely we may in this hour speak
of everything fully, since We stand out
side of the arena Of those contests long
ago fought and finished"
Without any destiny, without any
future. as those who are dead" finished
he. "Yes, Selma, in this hour every
thing may be said. Let us indulge our
memories let us indulge our hearts in
one more across the field.' 1t will
free us rs confession frees the pious
Roman Catholic"
Selma looked thoughtfully down
upon her bouquet and then into the
weather-brown face Of the man, into
his dark cleaning eyes. 81 don't be-
lieve that you know anything about
love, Arnold, or that you have ever
known it," said she earnestly. But,
ut that time, we all thought differently
Every one believed that the child
friendship between you and | would
change with years into something more
serious. myself was uncertain as tc
! your feelings, until-until you came
schooner, and schooner, and at last re-
NAMED away altogether. Then the
others saw their mistake. | was be
trothed, married, q widow. You nevel
returned. 1t was as if on purpose
Arneld, and has caused me bitter pain
since could not understand tn
swberefore'g / felt indignant towar'
you-determined, at any possible meet
ing, to treat you rs a stranger, and
when, however, you came yesterday a
last -
"Then your good heart prepared 70
me an undeseryedly warm welcome
God reward you for it, Selma"
al did only what could not helE
There is not much good in that. Blu
dear friend, this walk across the field
might bring me q solution Of the riddle
why did you leave us then-it was 0
my birthday-so suddenly Why di
You never return until yesterday? An
why did it happen whenit did-so late!
~ remained away from you as lor
as knew you were happy, and can
back when ] heard that fortune had lie
You alone in the world. 1t must
hard for him to live upon aims wi
once called kingdom his own; but
he can, notwithstanding, in distress al
death still dream Of his crown "
were happy, Selma, were you notY"
my husband possessed go
heart,o rejoined she eyssively. Il
was personifed reason, order, a
tranquility. Therefore he did not
ways understand me. His life a
thought endured no across the fell
ReInembr, you still owe me
answer, Arnold"
He was silent. He had turned pa
and stood still, like dreaming mi
upon the narrow field path, and b
over to pluck single cornfow
Selma attempted little unembarrssi
laugh.
"what has the poor thing done
you, Arnold2 And why do you K
as II you had seen . ghost?"
He looked up, and passed his hi
over his brow. 81 will relate to .
= history, Selma" said he, "the
tory which, for years gone by, ev
cornilower has related to me In
summer season."
"A true history"
"Listen. There were once two c
dren---one a. fresh, as wild, as fu
youth and joy as the other. I
learned, played, dreamed togeth
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