Wessington Springs herald. (Wessington Springs, Aurora County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1891, 1888-07-20
HIS GUARDIAN ANGEL.
BY CLARA MEFsWIN.

Fair as lily, graceful as gaze1le!
Who is she? I would give 500 if I
might paint that facet"
The words were spoken hurriedly,
and somewhat too loudly for the time
and place, Many ibystanders heard
them, and looked at the speaker, the
lady, and then at each other andsmiled.
But the lady herself-a young, slight
girl with large blue eyes, pale, golden
hair, and aface like q picture of q saint.
SO fair and pure it seemed-held on her
way, leaning on her escorts arm, with
out 4 glance to show that the artists
impetuous wish had reached her ear.
Calmly she sat in her box at the con-
cert that evening with her blue eyes
upon the stage. Many an opera-glass
was turned upon her from below, and in
a secluded corner Of the stalls sat Gus
fave Livingston, the artist, gazing at
her with his heart and soul in his large,
N'ih pee'o''Ao11teoC Cd.
Who is she?" he whispered eagerly
to his friend.
Il donot know. The face is a new
one, was the low reply.
"A new one! It looks as if it were
but just created-as if those eyes never
looked upon sinful world!" raved the
the artist. "Years ago, when I was a
boy in the country, / knew child with
p face almost as pure and sweet. She
died, as earthly angels do. Yet, had
she lived, she would have been like that
girl. Poor little May!"
Leaning his head upon his hand, the
artist lost himself in a dream of his boy
hoods love. When he looked up again
the concert was drawing to close and
the box was empty-the divinity had
gone!
Hurrying from the house, he inquired
right and left among the attendants at
the door; and finally, by a gift of
money, so refreshed the memory Of one
that he said he had seen the young lady
drive off in a private carriage before the
concert was over, with a gentleman as
|risht be her father, and they went to
the Evans House."
To the Evans House followed the
enamored artist, only to be disap-
pointed The servant whom he fed lib
orally assured him that NO such young
lady Was stopping there. Some wild
Pnpulse, for which he could scarcely
account, led the artist to examine the
Motel register. He looked for the name
Of May Cleveland was the name
o. his earliest love-and it was not
There.
Meanwhile the fair object of his
Search was speeding from the city as
last as the midnight train could carry
her toward Boston. Although the
lonr was so late she was wakeful, and
easped her hands over her eyes, as she
rested her head on the pillow, i'll vain
attempt to shut out from mind and mem
Dry the picture Of a haunting face.
lie did not recognize me" she
thought, with sigh. "And yet I knew
Mn IN spite of the change-in spite of
'l's added height, the altered face, the
oafk mustache-I knew him at the mo-
,'lelt when his eyes met mine as we en-
tered the door,
And then she blushed at the mem
ofE OF the words he had uttered.
Lena!" she called softly.
The second occupant of the section
Snsred on her narrow couch, and
answered drowsily:
What is it, May?"
Are you asleep?"
What question! No, not now, ]" re-
lnca Lena, sitting a groan. "What
troubles you, my May of Mays? You
seherally drop asleep the instant your
pretty head touches the pillow"
But not tonight, Lena, I cannot
,'eep' I've been thinking of all you
nave told me about"
A'"nt Gustave Livingston" asked
lena: finishing the sentence.
Hush! Speak lower. There are SO
~"iS people near. Yes, ] am troubled