The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1891-08-11
TO THE WATERS EDGE.
BY PAUL CARSON.

money at my command than was good for
me. | was to he married soon to a beauti-
full, high-spirited girl, when a quarrel arose
in which | was almost entirely to blame,
| and Lila, i'll fit of righteous indi gnation,
| broke the engagement declaring that she
would not marry tyrant who fancied that
the possession of a few hundred thousand
dollars gave him the right tc dictate to every
| one with whom he came in contact.
retorted with something equally bitter,
| and left the house. A week later, having
| in a measure regaincd my senses, l called
| on Miss Jewett. She had gone away, leav-
| ing letter for ME which a servant de-
| livered. 1t said:
Thinking you might possibly seek a
| reconciliation in order TO save us both the
| pain of an interview / have gone away, TO
| be absent, at least q year, probably longer.
| 1t does not matter where | am going, as all
| attempts 10 restore my broken faith in you
| would be useless. Nevertheless, | pray that
| heaven may send only blessings to the man
| so dearly loved"
That was all Through my own idiotic
| conduct had lest her. No words can tell
| what l suffered. For month L was well
nigh insane. Every attempt TO discover
Lila's address proved futile. She was an
orphan, and her aunt with whom she lived,
| had solemnly promised to keep the secret.
''She wouldn't tell me-" the old lady said
| with sympathetic tears IN her eyes, until
| | promised faithfully not to betray her"
One morning. turning q corner into Arch
| street. l encountered Captain Abbott, an old
| friend Of NY father whom L had not seen
for years. He was the owner of several YES
sells, and followed the sea for love.
Glenn Dayis!" he exclaimed. II was on
my way to your place, but what in the
name of the ship is the matter with you?
You look as If you we're dead. Been sick?"
Not seriously" l replied. but what are
you doing in Philadelphia?"
Ran down 10 look after q schooner of
| mine. l sail with the DauntleSs for Aus
tralia in ten days. Going back to New York
in the morning. Seeing I've net you, III
90 look after that boat nUw-thought I'd
find you first
But you'll come to the house to dinner
| and stay all night?" l asked.
Yes, thanks, be glad to-" And we
! parted.
He came to dinner. and that night we sat
up late smoking and talking, and in some
way the captain learned my trouble, though
l did not tell him the lady's name. Before
we went to bed | had promised to sail with
him on the Dauntless.
We will have quite party this Time"
he said. MY. wife and daughter always
GO with me, and this year nephew OF mine
! who is just out of college, and my wife's
niece, will accompany US. The trip will do
you good"
AID l, caring little what became of me-
eager to grasp anything that promised to aid
forgetfulness, accepted the kind invitation
gladly.
We were TO sail on the morning of May
| 18th, but everything worked so smoothly
| that all was ready the night of the 18th, and
brisk breeze springing up we passed
| through the narrOwS at midnight. came
| on board with the captain about 10 clock :;
| the ladies, fatigued with the last days shop
| ping, and not expecting 10 sail until day.
| break, were not visible; SO 1t happened that
| when we met at the breakfast table we were
miles at sea, and with bounding pulses l
| acknowledged an introduction TO Mrs. Alb
| bolts niece, Lila Jewett
Flushing crimson,I then turning deadly
pale, with great effort the young lady
| mastered her surprise and replied careleSSly
| to her aunt's astonished look
Il have met Mr.. Davis before. l did not
| expect to meet an acquaintance out at sea-"
She did not say friend" Miss Abbott.
a graceful, pretty girl of eighteen, with
wOmanly tact took up the conversation, and
aided by the others breakfast was eaten
| without embarrassment.
Soon after, Captain Abbott called me into
MY boy. never dreamed that Lila was
| the girl. But since Providence, for l don't
believe in chance, has put you where you
| can't get away from each other for while.
| you have things in your own hands, and if
you win her back il Will be worth a trip to
| AUSTRALIA, wont IL
| | agreed with him perfectly but In my
| heart doubted my ability to win again the
| love / had lost. Lila was Of quiet, intense
nature, slow to take offense, notwithstand-
| ing her pride and spirit when aroused. and
slow 10 pardon when once the fires of in
| dignation were klndled.
We settled into the routine OF life on ship
board very soon. There was picked crew,
| most of the seamen having sailed with Cap
tain Abbott for years. 1t was to be Arthur
| Halls last trip as first mate, however, for
| the following year he was to marry the cap
| tain's daughter, and lie would be captain of
| the ship on which the bridal tour was to be
| taken.
Fred Arleigl. the captains nephew, Miss
| Jewett and myself, were slightly sea-sick
were jolly party. Somehow, every effort
| to find Lila alone met with the most signal
| failure. On deck, in the cabin, at meals,
she was courteous, even friendly, but we
never by any chance found ourselves alone.
| Usually the captains wife was near us, and
l felt sure that Lila had arranged matters to
prevent private interview.
week passed, then, in desperation,
went to Mrs. Abbott, told her the whole
| story, not sparinG myself, and asked her
help. That very evening the kind-hearted
lady said 10 me:
mir. Davis, Lila has just gone on deck !;
will you take this shawl to her? 1t is grow
ing little COOL"
Alice Abbott and young Arleigh were
| playing chess, and, absorbed in the game,
| were not likely to disturb us for an hour.
In her favoriIe corner. sheltered from the
| strong brerZ., sat Lila, watching the sunset.
came behind her unnotced, and softly
| laid the shawl over her shoulders.
| Thank you, auntie" she said, without
turning her head. is there anything SO
lovely as sunset at sea?"
looked across the water at the gorgeous
pile Of gold and purple clouds, then sitting
| down beside her, / replied:
| The light of love in your eyes again,
| dear, would be more beautiful to me-"
| She started violently aud tried to rise, but
l held her hands.
:" thought it was auntie; she has failed
me-" she said.
Your aunt sent me to you. She believes in
repentance and forgiveness, If you do not.
| You know / love you. / was nm arrogant
fool, but loved you, Forgive me. These
long weeks have nearly killed NE. Give me
| little hope"
Her face was white and set.
Glenn, l trusted you. You were my
| ideal Of all that was noble and good, and
when l discovered that underneath your
cultured exterior, was jealous, petty, tyran-
| nical nature my love died. You must have
tancied," with flash Of scorn in her eyes,
that because you are rich and 1 am poor,
| IN my eyes money would cover up those un-
desirable qualities. You were mistaken"
| Lila, fe1olned, deserve your CEN
| sure, and perhaps I do not deserve your
| forgiveness; but money never entered my
| thoughts i'll connection with you; in that
| respect you arc grossly unjust. / don't be-
lieve that your love is dead, for you cannot
deny that, however undeserying 1 was and
am, you loved me truly-you said so in that
cruel letter you left-and true love will not
die at your bidding or mine. Take care lest
in your effort to mete out tile punishment
deserve you forget to be just"
The red blood flashed to her brown hair.
She struggled for composure, then, holding
out the hand that she had refused to let me
clasp after the first surprise, she said:
Glenn, let us be friends. Let us be COM
rades on this long voyage. l forgive you.
but do not talk Of love again. You men do
not understand a woman's heart We can
not go back to the old days, but these may
be pleasant ones if you will"
Silently. took her hand, saying in