Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1888-01-12

| And she had happy sense Oh security with
| this handsome, gentle-Yoiced soldier, who
| held her so firmly, yet so tenderly, and
seemed to accept the whole thing so much
as a matter of course, that Valerie almost
| felt the same.
"How yery-yery kind you arep' she
said, after a few minutes, with ahaif-timid
| glance up into the noble face above her
''But, oh! you are getting SO wet"
He glanced down into the sweet eyes
| Chey instantly drooped), and smiled.
eff good drenching would hurt me, " he
said, 81 shouldn't be here to take care of
you; and as for the other, don't you sup
pose it's great pleasure to me to be able
to help your"
'You are very good to find it a pleasure. u
Gam 1? Keep the cloak well round YOU,
and hide your eyes from the lightning.
Are you frightened?"
No, not bit, now"
but you were frightened, poor child?"
Eyes, was frightened" said Valerie,
drawing quick breath; cit is 50 awesome
to be alone in a thunderstorm"
The soldier shuddered, and instinctively
frightened his clasp Of the fragile form at
the thought Of what might have happened
! to this delicate young creature, left to
struggle alone through the pitiless storm.
81 might never have reached bennington
but for you," said the girl, gratefully, feel
| ing the shUdder, the closer clasp, and di-
vining the mans thought.
Don't talk of it, he said, hastily, a lit
tie huskily. a minute later: GIVE are not
far now, thank Heaven! for your sake"
"And yours, too, +" said Valerie, in perfect
good faith.
Hist As if he would not rather the two
miles had been ten, to ride on with this
winsome fairy in his arms, clinging to him,
the golden head resting against him, the
exquisite face close to his own! He would
be less than man, and certainly less than
soldier, who felt Otherwise. No; for the
sake-of hers only, he was glad they were
nearing the town; for himself, he grudged
every yard Of ground.
do you live in Donnington?" he asked,
not answering the girls last remark.
''No, live at Welford-nearly four miles
behind us. Twas walking to bennington
when the storm came on"
''Where, then, shall I set you down?
Don't start" he added, laughing, eve Will
dismount before we actually enter the
town."
Valerie laughed, too.
ooh, of course" she said, ''but II have
no friends in bennington. l must take
shelter in a shop until the storm is over"
'What! wet as you are? Impossiblel I
will take you to our Generals wife, Mrs.
Fanshawe, she will be in her element, tax
| ing care of a storm-drenched young lady"
| "Oh, please nO-you must not, indeedP
cried Valerie. 81 am quite a stranger to
| her. Oh, you must not!''
| But mrst,' said he, smiling at her
| distress, which was infinitely witching.
DO you imagine I could put you inside
| some shop and leave you there all drenched
| for cold and fever to soak into you? Come
worse to worse, the wife of one of my men
| should look after you; but shall take you
to Mrs Fanshawe. She is a friend of mine.
l am afraid there is nothing for you but
! the soldiers virtue of obedience"
Il ought to have it by Inheritance" said
| Valerie, smiling.
| How? Are you a soldiers daughter?"
| asked the other, with an eagerness that
| the girl might have felt as flattering had
| she been more of a coquette.
eyes, "she said, proudly, coloring a little.
81 am Major Herbert's daughter"
| Herbert! Edmund Herbert?"
The girls eyes flashed.
! Eyes; did you know him?" she asked,
quickly.
''NOt personally; but every soldier knows
his name, and honors it," What look
| the words won him from those beautiful
| gray eyesl it made his heart beat faster
! why" he said, chow could you be so
! afraid of going to Mrs. Fanshawe? You
| have a claim on heron any soldier or
| soldiers wife"
| would she feel like that?" asked Va
! lerie, wistfully
CAY, she does feel So"
AS he spoke he drew rein.
1--WE are almost in the town, now" he
| said. ''The Generals house is not far from
here"
He lifted Valerie to the ground, and then
dismounted, slipped his horses bride over
! his arm, and they walked on brisl1ly into
/ the now deserted High Street.
| My people viii be so anxious" said Va
| lerie. "but it cannot be helped"
! II will send an orderly over with mes
| sage, if you viii give me your address,"
! I'm this storm? Oh! no-no."
| He laughed
! Soldiers are not made of plaster. Won
| know" he said, quizzically.
Eyes, / do know, but anyhow will wait
| a little; the storm may give over, and then
1 can return home myself"
II will drive you home when YOU are able
| to go, if you will let me-
Il could not be so encroacningl Don't
ask me that, please"
"Encroaching!'' repeated the other, bit
| ing his lip under his moustache Whata an
| innocent specimen of humanity this girl
was! IF there is any encroachment, it is
on my side, for asking the favor"
| A slight wave Of color crossed the girls
cheek. 1t just dawned upon her that there
was-from his point of view-no polite ffc-
| ton involved in her companions last
| words; but that was all the more reason
| for yielding the point.
"You have been too kind already" she
| said, simply; ''but 1 suppose you must
have your way; and thank you very, very
| much"
Thank you, Miss Herbert. Here we
are.o
He turned up a street Of private houses,
and paused before the door of large red
brick house at the corner.
Valerie glanced up nervously at the ar
ray of windows as her cavalier rang the
bell, sounding peal that must have re-
sounded from cellar to garnet.
There were quick steps within, and the
door was opened by man-servant, who
started and stared in wonderment.
Captain Beauregardr' he exclaimed.
The captain drew Valerie into the hall.
Run for Mrs. Fanshawe, Robert" he
said. This young lady must be seen to at
once l am in no plight for drawing,
room. Are you chilled?" he added, bend
ing down to Valerie as the servant vanish