Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1886-07-06
"BAxrEE,s sA1XT,s REST"


idly in the faint breeze that Tustied across
the waves. Crowds OF idle pleasure-see6
ers sauntered to and fro across the snowy
sands of the beach OF Maid, a famous sea-
side resort.
A gentleman mooGily contemplated the
various phases OF human life drifting be-
fore him. He caught himself smiling at
the gambols Of a fsiry-loOking boy, with
long curis, who gallOped, or trolteG, az
sedatey walked by the side OF a young
lady. Then the lady attracted him next
She had walked past him several times,
and his gaze became seNcrer eacn Tune
She was slenderly but compactly formed,
Just tall enough for grace and TO escape
being called 'sdumpt." Her hair was
lustrOus brown. SO we're her eyes, ana uer
complexion fair beyond compare. w hen
in repose there was an air Of sadness, Ike
a veil, over her features; but wnen she
smiled or talked TO the little boy her face
became animated, and her htuns express
sion charmed the behOlder.
Il should like 10 know her" muttered
S,anh0pe Baxter, al last. 81 VIII try to
ma some one tOinlroduce me-
He troubled himself so much as TO fol-
low ner to her hotel. Ii was the same at
which be was looked.
There was a mop That night.
He caught a glimpse Of the broWn-eyed
lady, languidly dancing with friend OF
his. HIS heart beat a little faster for the
sight.
.'Fool that ami" he sneered. 81, who
have weighed women and found them
wanting-l, 80 become interested in one for
the hundredJh ume!'
But T. s.stibly be was drawn to his
friend as be saw lin plotting the lady TO
seat. \ hand on his shoulder caused
the friend to glance around. Stahbope
Bakers gray eyes ere on a level with his
own.
win you introduce me?" he breathed.
Mrs Greer, allow me-my friend, stan
hope Bax ter"
Mrs. Greer raised her eyes, then gave
him a little gracious bow.
Are YOU tOud OF dancingY he asked,
for his fr.eod had diecreetly Withdrawn.
''N0t very she answered, ia a voice
peculiarly rich and sweet, with thread
Of pathos running through 1T, sweetness.
''lf you are NOT too tired. may | ask you
to promenade? deteSt dancing"
THANK you-but l am little IA
tigucd.'
Then he sat down near her.
How lovely sac WAS!
Siunhope Baxter slandered himself
when he SAID he was easily interested IN
women. Years ago a GIL whom he loved
with youthful ardOr had iiped MIN for a
richer lover. The blow mad been severe
and deep. destroying bis faIth, and be had
walked he earta since then one OF it's in
habitants, but apart from them, lonely.
broodng man. To-day this woman hld
unconsciOusly stirred him TO the deptns.
Why. he could not tX pla a Tor he had ,ray-
eled IN many lands auu seen the beauties OF
all nations. But this woman, with her ar
OF family yelled sadness and her pa
thetic voice, seemed destined TO absorb
his soul.
They met daily, and almost always the
fairy boy was wito her. She seemed pas
siOnAteiy fond OF uim. Il was surprised
one day when tue little fellow called her
"huntie."
why does he call you that?' stanhope
asked
because l am his aunt. He il the only
child OF my only sister. She and her nus
band died Of yellow .lcyer in savannah.
The child was sent To me. / never had
any children OF my own, 50 that he has be-
come very dear 10 NE"
And yet You do II Impress one as be-
ing an afestionate woman"
She looked away from him. For mo-
ment he saw pitl'ui Quiverlng OF her lips
as her lovely profile was turned to him,
then her mouth grew iirmer.
''Once Thought | was, but now
think you are right, II seems 10 me that
] have lost all Numanly sO'tness." she eX-
planned, the natural pathos Of her voice
deepening.
Forgive me. did not mean to wound
you" he said. moving little nearer to
her, in his sym palhy.
you have not wounded me, for you have
only told me what many others nave. A
thrlce-tOld tale grows wearlsome in time,
but iAIls TO wOund'
she smiled aud toe whole expression Of
her face changed. The greatest charm OF
a woman's face was hCrs-the charm of
expression.
Quietly this man watched and studied
her. Clearly she had suffered; but suffer-
ing had not SOured her nature. Ii bad made
her sympalies beeuer, her pity boiler, and
her forgiveness Of divine breadth.
And so The golden weeks at the sea.
shore glideG by unc0unted by these two,
with the difference that while she was un-
conscious OF loving him he had come to
regard heras part Of himself, one day to
be bio wife.
Life seemed new to him. Earth, sky,
and sea were radiant with a new light,
and he felt as II intoxicated with strong
wine.
One day they sat idly under the awning
OF sail boat fastened 10 the beach. A red
parasOl threw its beautiful reflected flame
over utT laiF lace, WINE doom was care
lessly lasped in one hand. she was re-
ciluing indolently on the cushions, while
he sat slightly apart, but noting her every
turn and gesture. Macy, her nephew,
was scrambiing IN the sand near them,
needless OF all else except himself aud his
tiny pleasures.
suddenly sLanhope moved nearer ana
took one OF her lsGguid hands resolutely.
Sue looked up with an air Of startled sur
prise.
Doris, love you, want you for my
wife"
With a shudder,ng cry she drew her
band and rose, trembling 50 that the boat
gave au- werIHx ticmOr.
"Mr. Baxter, . DO you not kuowW she
walled.
"WnatV and ne, too, stood up, once
more graspiug heI tightly-clasped hands.
That / am already wiie!'
My God! Doris, you nave killed me!'
Without another word he leaped from
the boa and strude away.
With dry, hot ewes she watched him.
Who was 10 Dlamey lie mad thought ner
a " dow. Aud she deceived him?
Not intentionally. Her husband was 10
VIGOROUSLY untrue 10 her that she had
separated herself frOw him, but could not
bear the thought Of divorce. Occasion
ally he visited her. but always she denied
his authority rs husband. she had ner
own fortune ard her little nephew. Sue
loved the latter, aud spent the former ia
doing good.