San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1890-11-12

lney were both going toward the VIII
lage, he by one way, she by another,
and they met where their two roads
joined. That is to say, she, being a lit
tie ahead, saw him coming by the other
path, and with sudden spirit of bold
ness,-though the color went into her
face as she did it,-she waited till he
came up with her, and then put out
shy little hand TO him, and addressed
him with a question that was little less
than an invitation to him to Join her.
Are you going this way?" she asked
him. Upon which of course he answer
ed es''-and they went on together.
She had wanted to speak to him,-to
see him, and say anything to him,
though she did not quite know what.
The sensitively vain little monkey had
known instinctively that he was not
pleased with her; she knew he had not
been pleased with her last night; she
fancied, or guessed, or suspected what
he had been thinking of her, and-and
she wanted him not to think it. That
was the plain English of what was in
her mind. 1t did not occur to her that
it ought to be no matter to her whether
he thought it or not; she did not say
Indignantly to herself-"Let him think
it if he likes!" as most girls would have
done: not she!-she was too vain; she
could not say that; all that she was bent
on trying to do was to make him think
well of her again-to make him salts
fed with her-to show him that she did
not deserve that he should think of her
with contempt. And so now he was at
her side, and she had TO make out her
case to him as she could.
She was nearly always still a little
often even more than little afraid of
him. Even during those hours at
WreXham when he had sat near her and
watched her while she did her drawing,
and she had ventured slightly to play
with him,-Still even then she had been
cause he was in a different station from
her own, and she did not quite know
how to treat him, but partly too from
sort of awe of him, because he was
grave and quiet. She had almost got
by this time to like his seriousness,
though still she liked it only in what
was for her singular and peculiar way,
for naturally she loved Tor thought she
loved) to be on level with the people
she talked with,-either to be on level
with them, or better still, if possible,
to be above them, and-strange as it
was-she never yet had got to feel that
she was on a level with George Gilbert.
Far above him in one indisputable par
ticular as she was, they never were to-
gether but in the bottom of her heart
he made her look down upon herself
and look up to him; he made her feel
very much morally as the LilliputianS
must have felt physically to CULVER.
He was so wise, while she was so fool
iSh; he was so strong and grave, while
she was 50 weak and volatile; he knew
so much and thought so much, while
she knew hardly anything,-and never
thought at all. lie humbled her, in
fact: he made her feel-what it was
quite new thing for Gabrielle to feel
that she could confer no grace upon
him, for her part, but that to her he
gave honor when he talked to her, or
liked her, or thought well of her. A
humiliating state of things! and yet it
scarcely seemed to depress her as much
as one might have thought it would:
nay, when she was with him-black-
smiths son though he was-she had
come to be very content, and when he
seemed to slight her or to be Indifferent
to her, she was not ableto get over it or
forget it.
They walked toward the village with
the sunshine in their faces.
ut is quite like spring this morning
is it not?" Gabrielle had said, and
they had exchanged sentence or two
about the weather, and then they both
had become silent. He did not care to
exert himself to talk, perhaps; she want
ed to talk, but did not know what to
talk about. Or, at least, she did know
what she wanted to talk about, but the
thing that puzzled her was the difficult
ty of getting beginning made to what
she wanted to say. She was shy enough
to make two or three different attempts
before at last she got courage to do it
effectually by breaking nervOusly az
medidS res with half dozen plain words.
Il suppose you heard last night about
Mr.. Walkington?" she said.
About his going away? Yes. Does
he 60 sOOn?" Mr.. Gilbert COolly inquir-
ed.
Il don't know. Oh yes-I suppose he
will"
And then little pause,-till, after
waiting for a few moments for him to
speak again, and seeing that he would
not speak, she wound up her courage
and went on.
Il wonder who we shall get here in
his PLACED"
II hear that Lord Hillyar is likely to
give the living to some connection of
his own"
"Yes-so they say. OF course that is
how Mr.. Warrington got it.
"Yes-I suppose So"
81 think that sort of thing is a pity
isn't it? l mean'-rather nervously-
sit can't be right sort of thing. 1t
seems 50 odd that a man like Mr. Walk
ington should have had two liyings
given to him already, at his age, -when
so many other men,-peOple who have
worked so hard-should often never get