Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-03-26
Initiate me into lne myster,es. vii

Initiate me into the mysteries, will your
 "Of Eleusis?" inquired I, laughing and wondering what she meant.
 She replied with ready tongue:
 No; have the insufficient key of Eschylus for that. I mean want Mir. Perrom to teach me to shoot"
 You can shoot now"
 You require explicitness, I see. want you to teach me how to hit the mark when do shoot. Will you?'
 believe 1 concealed the exultation
 n!,h those words gave me. 1 only an- Nered:
 With pleasure"
 When shall we commence?" she asked
 Tomorrow" l said.
 All day had a tomorrow to which to look forward. confess to the childish ness of thinking as often as once every quarter hour that the next day was to practice shooting with Miss Clare. l believe l should not have had occasion to accuse myself of this had l been any where else than in this solitary place, where there were but few outside in- fiuences to intrude themselves upon me. 1 had seen but two carriages upon the roao since my arrival there, and after my morning gallop over long stretches of brown field, had nothing po do but read, write and think. I was often in the mood at that period of my life, when, if was idle for any length of time, my thoughts became as errant as my material nature was slothful; they would persist i'll wandering to that which they liked best. Now my emotions or my reused interest were the waymarks, ali pointing to the path my thoughts should take-everything made me think, almost with painful exclusiveness, of Miss Clare. I had nearly reached my thirtieth year, and could not lay to ex- treme youth concentration of thought which l had never before experienced in regard to a woman.
 veins, heavy thudding of my temples when l went to bed that night, gave promise of something beside an accurate eye and true aim for the morning. The next days sunlight, when it came in on my face through the window, fell with cruel brightness upon eyes which had not slept through the night felt that 1 was either very ill or was getting ready to be so. l was determined to rise and go down stairs, however, and after re- peated failures at length succeeded in dressing, and when had rested awhile I started for the stairway. How I ever got down those stairs I never knew, but l tainted dead away at the bottom. 1 remember, when the first sensation of faintness came upon me, that my mind framed a curse that my mans strength should have left me. Before I could shape my lips to utter the imprecation they were powerless to do so. A sprink- ling of water on my face and a wet hand on my forehead were the first sensations of returning consciousness. Before had power to open my eyes hoped the hand was Miss Clare's. I had a dim idea that it was soft, and, consequently, must be hers.
 1 opened my eyes, and in the dusky light of the passageway saw that Miss Clare was beside me.
 I've shall not shoot this morning, shall we, MT. Perrom. since you are so provoking as to be ill?" was the first re- mark she made. softly bathing my fore head in the meantime.
 Perhaps we shall," 1 said. writhing from her hand. This accursed faint ness may pass away in a little while." ground my teeth in a rage at my in- capability
 The sickness will hardly go away to- i day, think. Can you riser" she asked. II think SO"
 l made a cumbersome movement to stand up, but should have failed il, the effort had not Miss Clare taken my 1 hands and assisted me. Ill and half con- fused as I was, vividly felt the firm, warm clasp of her slender fingers It was the first time our hands had met. Conscious of the present wish that they might never more be strangers, said. faintly and earnestly:
 II really hope, Miss Clare, that you are as sorry as I that cannot accom- pany you this morning-and that is hop ing great deal"
 I leaned against the lower part of the balusters, and looked through the dim light at my companion. It seemed to me that her naughty mouth was soft ened somewhat-that her eyes were less distant ln their splendor. She was going to be kind to the sick man, however she might be to him when he was we'll.
 "I am very sorry, Mir. Perrom; more sorry that you are ill. I am afraid you have over exerted yourself in some way. Perhaps you have written too much; have guessed that you write a great deal"
 There was so enchanting, subtle a sweetness in her voice, that l acknowl- edged to myself, as weakly stood, sup ported by the stair case, that l would willingly endure an illness for the sake of hearing it. Those tones murmured in all cadences through my wild dreams for the next few weeks. Musical and kind as were her words, could not but own that it was not a music for me alone; it was not the exclusive harmony for one heart only-it was the kindness of her womanly nature toward ali suffering. and she was so gifted as to be able to display it more bountifully than some women.
 Though have written much, ," said, "I cannot accuse myself of over exer-