Bridgeton pioneer., 1885-06-04

NeltOlll6
Keep your spectacles," said the old
man. kissing her for goodnight; Il am
too old to use them. They are only
suited for the eyesight of those who be-
lieve in them"
CHAPTER II.
SIT TAKES so LITTLE TO MAKE EARTH
A HEAVEN"
A fortnight had passed, and Esme
Won Lindenheim still remained at
Hayes. He was Sydney's constant com
paniOn. Together they sat out in the
garden, under the shade of the tulipa,
during the long, hot afternoons; to-
gether, later, they would pass to the
terrace which lay on the other side of
the house-the terrace where, in all the
rays of the setting sun, the peacOckS
strutted up and down in all the pride
engendered by the consciousness of fine
feathers. They would lean on the low
wall facing the glory of sunset, looking
across the level English meadows,
through which flowed the river, taking
on its CLASSY breast the rejecting CLEANS
of red and gold from the sky above and
admiring, often in silence, the glories
of heaven, which seemed finding re-
Election in the waters beneath.
The first few days they had read
much, talked of the work which was
the connecting link between the friends
the work in which the son of the one
and daughter of the other had so easily
found meeting place; and from that
they had diverged to books generally,
and comparison of what they had
read and liked.
Father" Sydney had said. entering
the library the day after Count Linden
helms arrival, and cautiously closing
the door behind her, where is Schiller?
You know | told you that itwas poetry,
not tennis. he would require to amuse
right. He is going to read aloud to me,
and of course"
SIS going to read Schiller" interposed
Mr.. Lorraine. Here it isl
Il hope" replied Sydney, smiling, che
will not choose The Glove though I
suppose there is very little use hoping.
They all begin with that. At least, that
is the result of my large experience"
You are very ungrateful, my dear
Sydney" was her fathers comment, as
he put the book into her hands.
But fifteen days. had passed since
then. Poetry had been abandoned for
lence, whilst Sydney sat and worked.
And it was not only with Miss Lorraine
that Count Won Lindenheim had made
himself something more than casual
visitor. Old Mr.. Lorraine had grown to
find his presence very welcome. His
gentle courtesy always pleased him and
the interest with which he entered into
his work, and the affectionateness with
which he would walk up and down with
him in the summer twilight, listening
to the stories of long ago, brought back,
in measure, his youth to the older
man.
The sun is setting, mademoiselle, he
has deserted the garden, and it grows
chilly. Let us follow him to the other
side of the house."
AT the sound of the voice with the
little foreign accent that she had learnt
to know SO well, Sydney Lorraine rose to
her feet, and put down her book.
"ItiS YOU" she said. Where have YOU
been these one, two, three hours?"
Il have been for long walk, was his
reply Ply .,o..
"All alone. have been thinking"
"And could you not think here? 1t
would have been very much cooler and
pleaSanter."
Cooler and pleasanter," he repeated,
"but it would not have been thinking.
But now, come quickly, let us go to the
terrace"
The light smile had died away that
had been visible when she first spoke,
and she was quite grave as she accom-
panied him in silence for fewminutes.
And then, as if shaking off the shadowy
anxiety: What q sun-worshiper you
unless he is shining down upon you.
Do you feel the cold very much?"
very much. / only live in the sum-
mer."
you are not strong" she said, more
as if stating a fact than asking ques-
ton.
Il am much stronger than I was," he
answered, evasively.
She looked up at him quickly, as if 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.
quick little sigh. But, "It is a pity for
a man not to be strong," was all she
said.
1T makes their lives more difficult"
he answered.
They were standing now ON the broad
terrace, up and down which peacocks
were Haunting, apparently we'll pleased
with the attention they were exciting,
Sydney in her white dress and large
shady hat, her grave eyes looking steadi-
ly over the meadows beneath, far away
to where shone the riverin the sunlight.
Not once did she lift them to the man
standing beside her with fair
of hers.
At last: "Let us go down." he said
"Down to the river, mean. We shall
not be able to do it very much oftener." /"
And why?" she interrupted, lifting
her eyes swiftly.
"Oh, the weather will change-or l
shall be gone. Everything comes to an
end"