Devils Lake inter-ocean. (Devils Lake, Ramsey Co., Dakota [N.D.]) 1884-1905, 1886-09-04
her auu,, 1,ora accepted these atten-

tons gladly.
St. Eustacc could not but observe
how very guileless she was, and grew
tender owe her innocence.
He gave her his card; he related
many particulars of her aunt's history,
that if any thoughts of fear arose they
might be set ut rest.
And, looking into the sweet, fearless
eyes he was secretly only too glad that
he was what he profcsscd to be-irre-
%proachablc in truth and standing.
A few words spoken to the captain
gained for Dora, too, his bluff, fatherly
interest, and her forlorn look was soon.
banishcd.
The sea-trip was full Of novelty and
pleasure for her, and her prettiness
grew radiant rs she yielded to the
fresh and hcalthfui influence around
her.
Mr.. William SmaDpicco fortunately
'.scek the scciusion that u cabin
grants ior the whole time.
But Dora was Il good sailor. Though
the boat plunged restlessly all the
night, and beat about to the incessant
ringing of the fog-bell, she came to
breakfast with rosy checks and bright
eyes.
She soon became II favoritc with the
captain, who placed her at his right
hand. and constantly encouraged and
complimcnted her.
The next was a bright and beautiful
day, and those OF the passengers who
were not scasick, promenaded the
deck in the bright October sunshine,
or loungcd on scttccs and camp-chairs.
BY u marked courtesy, st. E~ustace
succeeded in preventing Dora from
feeling the embarrassment of being the
only lady on board.
She was more picturesque without
the frayed gloves, sitting with her
bountcous braids uncovered, her slight
shoulders wrapped in u white knit
shawl under IN: awning. which the
captain gave orders to have rugged for
her; and she was more co%nspicuously
pretty.
St. Eustace felt that the other pas
sengers envied him as he lounged near,
chatting in quiet seriousness, she 81
lently watching the shifting water, the
lowering sky, the winging gulls or fly
ing sails. with her eyes of sweet enjoy
mcnt.
Dora was both unassuming and free
from embarrassment. Even Mrs. Lor-
toms anticipated training could not
improve the young girls simple lady
hood, and St. Eustace felt himself deep
ly interested respecting this young
creature.
After supper the moon came up glor-
iously. Dora ran up from the cabin
with a cry Of delight.
"Oh, how pretty!-like a dream!'
she cried.
''Would you not like the change of a
walkP' asked St. Eustace, Offering his
arm.
So they promonaded the smooth,
white deck, the sea ripping, and the
moon shedding her soft light.
Chow pleasant this is!' said Dora.
II thought it was going to be dreadful
when we came IN board. 1t would
have been if it had not been for your
Kindness"
"Do you think l do not find this
pleasant" asked st. Eustacc. "What
should l have done if you had not been
on board?"'
She looked up with her frank. sweet
eyes.
II had not thought of that" she
said.
St. Eustace laughed heartily.
ooh, WE'LL" she said, "we kmow it
can't make much difference to you."
The young man watched her face of
humility, and thought he had never
tasted such exquisite fattery.
'.Do wep" he said. ii am not so
sure. See how white those sails are,
coming from beneath those clouds.
Do you," he added, presently, .expect
to enjoy yourself at your aunt'sP Do
you know how rich she is?" he went
on, ''and how luxuriously she lives?"
Il had not thought" she said.
''Grandpa said she was a good woman,
very cheerful and charitable. l expect
to be as happy there as l can be any
where"
He noticed the sadness of. the young
voice, but knew she would soon recov-
err from the sorrow of losing her grand
mother, and unused on what the rich
woman would make of this sweet, uu-
sophisticated girl.
Dora could think of nothing but her
own pleasant emotions. That long,
bright cvcning-thc fresh, mild scene
the handsome face, the gallant figure
made IN era in her life.
But when she left him, she forgot all
in the soun.i sleep of early youth.
With St. Eustace it was different.
The contiding clasp of that little hand
upon his arm seemed to linger.
There was a marriage planned for
him by his father. Why did he think
of that o with adherence, and VOW
that it never could beP
He had not been so averse once.
though never enthusiastic, about Miss
Montgomery. But Dora Seatoun's
pure spirit and fine beauty was a revc-
lation to him. Moro dazzling faces he
had seen, never one hat thrilled him
to the finest fibre of his being like
that.
BY grey daylight he tried to scott at
himself; but at the first sight of Dora's
sweet eyes made him her Slave again.
'Only a short time more at sea-" she
said, with her sunny smile.
But it was a long, bright day, and
st. Eustace made his resolve.
When they had reached Edinburgh,
and he had put her into a carriage, he
said:
II shall do myself the pleasure of
calling on you soon!'
CHOW soon?' she asked. brightly.
"PerhapS tomorrow evening. If not
give me three days gracc!'
How her heart bounded at his part
ing bow and eloquent eyes!
She had a girls heart, to be glad at
that look! And when her aunt had
made her at home, she forgot the ele-
gance around her to muse on it.
When her aunt had tried a score of
pretty dresses on her tho noxt oftor