The Iola register., 1890-10-31

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it solitude that had given such depth
| and gertleness to her? Was it the long
years of communing with nature that
| had endowed her with such peculiar
grace, the grace we find in opening
flowers and budding trees? Had she
caught that murmuring voice from the
| sound Of the streams that fall contin-
ually about her rocky home? Was 1t
| the tenderness of the evening sky be-
meath which she loved to walk that lay
like shadow on her face, and the light
of the evening stars that shone in her
quiet eyes? At the least to me she was
| the realization of the dream which
haunts the sleep of sin-stained men; so
my memory paints her, so hope 10 find
her when at last the sleep has rolled
away and the fevered dreams are done.
| At last there came a day-the most
blessed of my life, when we told our
love. We had been together all the
morning, but after dinner Mr.. Carson
was SO unwell that Stella stopped in
with him. Atsupper we met again, and
after supper, when she had put little
Tota, to whom she had grown much at
tached, to bed, we went out, leaving Mr..
| Carson DOING on the couch. The night
was warm and lovely, and without
speaking we walked up the garden to
the orange grove and sat down there
upon a rock. There was little breeze
which shook the petals of the orange
bloom over us in showers, and bore their
delicate fragrance far and wide. Silence
| hrnlznn only hu tho
sound of the falling waterfalls that now
died to faint murmur, and now, as the
wayering breeze turned, doomed loudly
in our ears. The moon was not yet Wis
ible, but already the dark clouds that
floated through the sky above us-for
there had been rain-showed a glow of
silver, telling US thatshe shone brightly
behind the peak. Stella began to talk
in her low, gentle voice, telling me of
her life in the wilderness, how she had
grown to love it, how her mind had gone
on from idea to idea, and how she pict-
ured the great rushing world that she
had never seen as it was reflected to her
from the books which she had read. 1t
was a curious vision of life that she had;
things were out of proportion in it; it
was more like dream than a reality
a mirage than the actual face of things.
The idea of great cities, and especially
of London. had kind of fascination for
her; she could scarcely realize the rush,
the roar and hurry, the hard crowds Of
men and women, strangers each to each,
feyerishly seeking for wealth and pleas
ure beneath murly sky, and treading
one another down in the fury of their
competition.
s'What is it all for?" she asked,
earnestly. "What do they seek? Hav-
ing so few years to live, why do they
waste them thus?"
l told her that IN the majority of in
stances it was actual hard necessity that
drove them on, but she could scarcely
realize it. Living as she had done in
the midst of the teeming plenty of the
fruitful earth, she did not seem to
understand that there are millions who
from day to day know not how to stay
their hunger.
81 never want to go there" she went
on. Il should be bewildered and fright
ened to death. 1t is not natural to live
like that God put Adam and Eve in a
garden, and that is how He meant their
children to live-in peace, and looking
always on beautiful things. This is
my idea of perfect life. want no other"
''I thought that you once told me that
you found it lonely" said.
$50 did," she answered, innocently,
"but that was before you came. Now /
am not lonely any more, and it is per-
fect-perfect as the night"
just then the full moon arose above
the elbow of the peak, and her rays stole
far and wide down the misty valley,
cleaning on the water brooding on the
plain, searching out the hidden places
of the rocks, wrapping the fair form of
nature as in silver bridal vail through
which her beauty shone mysterlously.
Stella looked down the terraced val
lev: she turned and looked up at the
scarrad face of the golden moon, and
then she looked at me. The beauty of
the night was about her face, the scent
of the night was on her hair, the mys-
terry of the night shone in her shadowed
eyes. She looked at me, looked at her,
and all our hearts love blossomed with
in US. We spoke no word-we had no
words to speak, but slowly we drew near,
till lips were pressed to lips as we kissed
our eternal troth.
1t was she who broke that holy ST.
lence, speaking in a changed voice, in
soft deep notes that thrilled me like
the lowest chords of a smitten harp.
''Ah, now / understand" she said.
'Now know why we are lonely, and
how we can lose our loneliness. Now
know what it is that stirs us in the
beauty of the sky, in the sound of water
and in the scent of flowers. 1t is love
that speaks in every thing, but till we
hear his voice we understand nothing.
But when we hear, then the riddle is
answered, and the gates of our heart
are opened, and, Allan, we sec the way
that wends through death to Heaven,
and is lost in the glory of which our love
is but shadow.
Let US go in, Allan. Let US go be-
fore the spell breaks, so that whatever
comes to US, sorrow, death or separs-
tions We may always have this perfect
memory to save u.s."
/ rose like a man in a dream, still
holding her by the hand. But as ] rose
my eye fell upon something that
CLEANED white among the foliage of the
orange bush by my side. i said nothing,
but looked. The breeze stirred the or
ange leaves, the moonlight struck for
moment full upon the white object.
1t was the face Of Hendrika, the bab-
yan-woman, as Indaba-zimbi had called
her, and on it was a glare of hate that