The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1886-07-22
SAINTS REST"

gaudily striped awnings fluttered lam
guidly, and the sails of the boats flap
ped idly in the faint breeze that rustled
across the waves. Crowds of idle pleas
ure-seekers sauntered to and fro across
the snowy sands of the beach of Maid,
a famous seaside resort
A gentleman moodilY contemplated
the various phases of human life drift
ing before him. He caught himself
smiling at the gambols of fairy-look-
ing bow with long curls, who galloped,
or trotted, or sedately walked by the
side of young lady. Then the lady
attracted him next She had walked
past him several times, and his gaze be-
came severer each time. She was slen-
derly but compactly formed. just tall
enough for grace and to escape being
called "dumpy." Her hair was lustrous
brown, so were her eyes, and her COM
plexion fair beyond compare. When
in repose there was an air of sadness,
like veil, over her features; but when
she smiled or talked to the little boy her
face became animated, and her fitting
expression charmed the beholder.
Il should like to know her, muttered
Stanhope Baxter, at last. 81 will try to
find some one to introduce me.n
He troubled himself so much as to
follow her to her hotel. 1t was the
same at which he was booked.
There was a hop that night.
He caught glimpse of the brown
eyed lady, languidly dancing with a
friend of his. His heart beat a little
faster for the sight.
Fool that | amr' he sneered. 81,
who have weighed women and found
them wanting-I. to become interested
in one for the hundredth timew
But irresistibly he was drawn to his
friend as he saw him plotting the lady
to seat. A hand on his shoulder
caused the friend to glance around.
Stanhope BaXter's gray eyes were on
level with his own.
"Will you introduce me?" he breath
ed.
Mrs. Greer, allow me-my friend,
Stanhope Baxter"
Mrs. Greer raised her eyes, then gave
him a little gracious bow.
Are you fond of dancing?" he
asked, for his friend had discreety
withdrawn.
NOb NtiN, SAlt StilSNGItNty III NOlCC
peculiarly rich and sweet, with a thread
of pathos running through its sweet
ness.
IF you are not too tired, may ] ask
you to promenade? / detest dancing"
Thank you; butt am little IA
tigued.n
Then he sat down near her.
How lovely she was!
StanhOpe Baxter slandered himself
when he said he was easily interested
in women. Years ago a girl whom he
loved with youthful ardor had Tilted
him for a richer lover. The blow had
been severe and deep. destroying bis
faith, and he had walked the earth
since then one of its inhabitants, but
apart from them, a lonely, brooding
man To-day this woman had uncon-
sciously stirred him to the depths. Why,
he could not explain. for he had travel
ed in many lands and seen the beauties
of all nations. But this woman, with
her air of family veiled sadness and her
pathetic voice, seemed destined to ab-
sorb his soul.
They met daily, and almost always
the fairy boy was with her. She seemed
paSSionately fond of him. He was sur
prised one day when the little fellow
called her ''Auntie."
why does he call you that?' STAN
hope asked
because / am his aunt He Is the
only child of my sister. She and her
husband died of yellow-fever in Savan-
nah. The child was sent to me. |
never had any children of my own, so
that he has become very dear to me-"
And yet you do not impress one as
being an affectionate woman
She looked away from him. For a
moment he saw pitiful quivering of
her lips as her lovely profile was turned
to him, then her mouth grew tirmer.
"0nce l thought was, but now l
think YOU are right. 1t seems to me
that have lost all womanly softness,"
she explained, the natural pathos of her
voice deepening.
Forgive me. l did not mean to
wound you," he said, moving a little
nearer to her, in his sympathy.
You have not wounded me. for you
have only told me what many others
| have. A thrice-told tale grows weari-
some in time, but fails TO wound"
She smiled and the whole expression
of her face ch 'nged. The greatest
charm of a woman S face was hers-the
charm of expressio1.
Quietly this man he'd and studied
her. Clearly she hau ffered; but suf-
| fering had not sour6d her nature. 1t
had made her sympathies keener, her
pity holier, and her forgiveness of di-
| vine breadth.
And so the golden weeks at the sea-
shore glided by uncounted by these two,
with the difference that while she was
unconscious of loving him he had come
=, - hnr aS part of himself one
I ~ ~ - - 4 ~sA~
| day to be his wife.
Life seemed new to him. Earth, sky,
| and sea were radiant with new light,