The Caldwell tribune. [volume] (Caldwell, Idaho Territory [Idaho]) 1883-1928, 1889-06-08
OUR ROBIN.
CHAPTER vi.


After breakfast on the following
morning Harry unexpectedly puts in
an appearance, and my considerable
friend Robin trips off in the direction
OF the Lovers Walk, with novel
tucked under her arm, and Nell career
ing at her heels.
Harry makes somewhat leng thy
visit, during which l give him sing
ing lesson. His vocal powers are
great as regards sound, there certain-'
" is no want of volume in his deep,
hearty voice; but air and time are
quite minor considerations, so that GER
tain passages have to be taken over
and over again, which fact accounts of
course for the visit being o protracted
one.
1t is nearly one o'clock. before ] find
myself ut liberty to'seek Robin. Know
ing that she disappeared in the direc-
ton of the Lovers Walk, and provided
with book, | have not much difficulty
| in guessing her destination. She has,
strangely enough to my fancy, become
enamoured of that dilapidated arbor
which we visited on the morning after
her arrival, and there she often repairs
when left to the, indulgence of her own
sweet will, "a - 49, aEss -sgss
! discover her seated on the short
| weedy grass which surrounds the spot,
| her back propped against one side OF
the summer-house, and shaded by a
broken-down clematis laden with its
starry white bloom. Her book lies
unheeded on the ground beside her,
while, with her hands crossed firmly
| behind her back, she stares up at the
swayingk sprays above her, and the
deep blue sky beyond. Ea
s'Are you fy-catching?" | ask with
some interest--her mouth certainly is
little open.
"Only trying. to fly-eatehs" answers
Robin, laughing; and then she opens
her mouth wider to verify her state
| ment.
| Unable to resist the. temptation, |
shake the over-hanging clematis with
! vigorous hand, and the next moment
Robin struggles to her feet with a
choking, laughing cough.
..You mean thingr' she says, with a
look of unmitigated reproach, as she
removes the last white petal from her
lips. "Here have / been, SO to say,
Offering myself upon the shrine of
friendship for the last three hours, and
In return you come and choke me with
clNnatis. But I'll have my revenge;
when Harry next comes I'll stick 10
you like a burr .- az2fs'
"All right,n answer complacently;
ssyou will have, an opportunity this
evening is coming to dinner" J
.'What, again?"
Eyes, again. answer, with sigh,
as remember how few more evenings
| he will be able to come before his de-
parture.
"'Sigh no more, ladies - sigh no more;
Men were deceivers ever.
One foot on the sea and one"
quotes Robin, but l interrupt her i'm
patiently.
Don't, Robin; it is very unkind-- :
when he is going awaytoof'
| s"Ah, when he is gone, you viii be
just as forlorn as l am" muses. Robin
sympathetically. soy
| "Much-much more so, declare
pathetically; and then | continue, with
dash of unusual contidence-.sFo For
you, Robin, have never loved"
"gTis better. to have loved and lost,
than never to have loved at all, quotes
Robin.
.sRubbish!n l exclaim, with a shrug
of my shoulders; and then | sink down
upon the ground, feeling little out
| of sorts with the world in general and
Robin in.particular.
..SnubbedH ON all Sides" confides
Robin dolefully to the elements. 81
had better retire into my shell, like a
| sensitive SMALL" and, so saying, she
disappears behind the trailing creep
ers which more than half conceal the
entrance to the arbor.
For some moments there is silence,
save for the hum of insect life above
and around me and the never weary
ing rustic of the gentle summer breeze
amidst the restless leaves.
Presently, however, there is heard
a little exclamation as Of surprise
from the arbor; and shortly after Rob-
in energies from her retreat, holding
a narrow strip of writing in her hand.
"See," she says, handing me the
paper, with puzzled look-.I found
this carefully tucked away in the wood
work of the summer-house-what does
Ii mean?"
Istake the narrow slip. carelessly;
but, as my eyes light on the few words
traced thereon, know that | grow
pale to my finger tips.
What does it mean?" questions
Robin again; she has sunk upon her
knees, the better to bring herself on a
level with my face.
II cannot understand" I say falter-
ingly, '.Robin, do you think this
could have been written years ago."
Robin had edged round beside me;
at the question she takes the paper
and scans it critically.
mo- she answers, as she returns
it; sit is freshly written; see, the ink
has not turned fully black"
Then" say, dropping the scrap
of paper on my knee. with a look Of
horror-s'what are we to think? Rob-
in, as sure as / sit here, that is the
handwriting of the dead"
Instead of looking alarmed at my
statement, Robin merely objects prac-
tically-
81 don't think the dead would use
sblue-black' writing INK
| I am too much dazed myself to re.
sent the scoffing tone.
l at is Lucy's handwriting" / say,
staring blankly at tho. paper on my
knee.
Robin stares at me for some mo-
nents; Hnen, instead OF making any
reply, she reads the written words
aloud, whilst both our eyes rest on the
paper.
4 aAgain at midnight meet me-see
me, speak to me, but do not touch,
To touch is profanation. Last night J
lowered round, but the air held me in
I--l.. 7 sur,.iS ,,o4fl az, ~, a &e~,ia HzS