Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1888-05-31
HIS LOST LOVE.

age of the scarlet poisoning begOnia,
and densely-growing honeysuckles,
that scarcely a truant beam could peep
into its cool recesses.
An old homestead, with sloping caves
and low broad-seated windows filled
with plants, there was very little of
modern pretension or elegance about
it, yet one instinctively felt that every
nook and corner was full of real sub
stantial comfort.
There were only two persons in this
bower of shadow and coolnass-two
young lovers, Ralph Moseley and Clar-
ice Wynne.
He was dark and handsome with
Castilian complexion, melting hazel
eyes, whose somewhat impeuous fire
was softened by long thick lashes, and
q figure as symmetrical as that of the
NJ 10 Belyidere, while she-you could
compare her to nothing but a slender
white lily or pale anemone, with her
transparent skin, deep blue eyes, and
shining masses Of golden hair. Truly
love delights in contrast, the more
marked the better.
THE last time Clarice-the last
timen
His voice faltered in spite of his eff
forts to steady it, as he spoke the
words, looking full into her eyes.
But | shall come back, dear one;
before the roses have twice blossomed
over your doorway | shall be here to
claim the sweetest rose of all.'
You will be sure to come, Ralph?n
us the sun sure to rise, dearest? Is
the morning sure to follow the night?"
'tOh, Ralph!" murmured Clarice; 1--WE
have parted before, but it has never
been SO hard to me. Now it seems as
if | could not let you go-as if, with
you, the strength and vigor Of my life
were fading away. Is it wrong to feel
thus, deGlest?'
She looked appealingly into his face,
while the moisture gathered on her
eyelashes, and her lips quivered
Not wrong, Clarice, only foolish.
My dear little treasure, cast all these
forebodings away from you. Let my
last look be upon q smiling lip, a cloud
less brow. Two years is a wearisome
time to be parted from ones true love.
but patience will overcome all obsta-
cles in time Think of the iov of our
next meetingl And we will be the most
punctual correspondents on the face of
the globe How l shall watch for your
letters, Clarice! And they must be very
long, and closely written, or l shall
grumble terribly"
Clariee smiled. There was something
almost contagious in her lovers bright
cheerfulness.
They shall be long as heart could
wish she answered gaily. but, oh,
Ralph, what written words can take
- ,,lnon Of q
v->ice, the glance of ones own cye?n
% they parted-Clarice to tie sad
task of patient endurance, and Ralph
Moseley to the stern realities of life in
the far-away land where lay his post Of
duty.
The starry silence of the glorious
southern night had fallen over the trOp-
ical grandeur Of the Andes; the plan.
cts, blazing like miniature moons, hung
quivering in the purple sky; and the
stately palms that Swallowed Ralph
Moseley' tent scarcely moved their fam
like leaves in the perfumed stiffness.
A single lamp, swinging by a silver
chain from the center of the tent, threw
limited circle of light upon the camp
table, where the young man sat writ
ing, with an absorbed earnestness that
gave an expression almost akin to sad
ness to his handsome regular features.
There" he said at length, as he fold
ed the half-dozen sheets of thin foreign
paper, and deposited them in an envel-
ope. ''Clarice will hardly think that
have forgotten her when SIZE receives
this lengthy epistle, in spite of all her
playful reproacheS on the subject"
Charles Lyndale. who had been
gravely watching the expressive play
0f his companions speaking features,
as he sat smoking at the tent doorway,
shrugged his shoulders as Moseley
spoke.
Forgotten herr" he repeated with
lurking spice Of satire in his tone. 1.-The
only fault | have to find with you,
Ralph, as travelling companion, is that
yon never remember anything else.'
Dear little fairy" said Moseley
thoughtfully. Il would give a good
deal to see her sweet face to-night-a
kings ransom, if it were al my dis
posal.''
'Why?" questions Lyndale languid-
ly; lis she so very pretty?n
Pretty is scarcely the appropriate
word exclaimed Ralph enthusiastic
ally. Beautiful better typifies the pure
spirituelle expression of her face and
features. She is rather. pale, with large
eyes, as blue as violets, and hair like
nothing on earth but the gold of this
tropic sunshine in its noontide glow. y
s'Poohr' laughed Lyndale; lit is easy
to see that you are a lover, not reas-
enable man."
you will see Clarice one day for
YOURSELF said Moseley earnestly, land
if you do not confess that my descrip-
ton in no way exceeds the truth-Good
heavens! am dreaming?"
He started to his feet. so CHASTITY pale
that Charles Lyndale sprang to his
side.
''Moseley, what is the matter? Are
you ill?"
Tell me-" demanded Moseley, turn
ing suddenly to his companion, do
you see anyone by the table? There,
with her hand resting upon the edge.
Quick-quick, it is fading away like a
mist! Now it is goner'
s.Moseley, what on earth are YOU
talking about?n demanded his aston