The Kootenai herald. [volume] (Kootenai, Idaho) 1891-1904, 1896-08-01
ON 4 RIVER.

q HE was sitting on a little pier COW
cred with gay striped awning idly
- watching the sunset and parties
of summer girls and young men who
trooped down the terraces in front of the
hotel and started off up the river or out
into the lake in canoes and boats.
He was standing on the terrace steps
behind her, less occupied with the summer
girls than with some blue uniforms on
the opposite shore and wondering whether
the white bass would rise next morning
in the deep green water in front OF The
old fort.
Presently he threw away his cigarette
and strolled out on the pier, and then
they were shaking hands with that cy-
treme cordiality which means that even
on a summer outing there is nothing
quite so pleasant to look upon as a face
from home.
They were really not much more tnan
acquaintance, though they had met
constantly the previous winter in So
ciety's whirl. She remembered having
danced with him at the IS, and he,
as he noticed how thin she had grown,
recalled having taken her in to dinner
at the IS and how they had talked
about snowshoeing and had both been
rather bored. But every one had bored
him last winter except Dash it am
he exclaimed, mentally.
He told her how he had run down for
a week of golf and silver bass fishing, and
she explained that her friends and her
self were en- route for Alexander Bay and
intended taking the early boat the next
morning
Come for row." he urged. "Tn 20
up and tell your people anu get a wrap
for you"
And by and by she was holding the
rudder ropes in unaccustomed hands and
he was pulling hard against the swiftly
flowing stream.
They didn't talk much He kept c'ose
to the shore to avoid the current and she
watched the steep, reddish bank with its
overhanging trees. Here and there
tiny streamlet trickled down, tufts OF blu.
gentian growing beside 1t. BY degrees
the banks grew sleeper and more ROCKY,
the river narrower the green swiriing
eddies more numerous. He pulled out in
the middle of the stream and put The
oars in. Now" he told her wen
float back"
M
gently
He laughed unpleasantly.
DO 1? I've come near going to the
devil beg your pardon-but I've thought
better of it,
I'm glad of that"
Did you think we were engaged?" ne
asked abruptly after a pause.
"T-guessed it, l didn't know" she an
swered.
NO no one knew. She took care of
that But we were-all winter"
and
"Oh. it's a very ordinary story. She
threw me over for a man with mora
money. | suppose she meant to from the
beginning-if she had the chance"
"Oh, perhaps not" she began, eage~-
ly.
He looked at her. 81 fanced you were
like that" he said, slowly. Tam a Cur
TO talk about her. And. after all, it's SO
very commonplace, isn't it?"
He laughed again.
"Dontr' she said. you hurt me.
1t was dusk on the river. The 3tais
began to show overhead.
Il am sorry" she breathed; 'I am so
very sorry. And-and ii is true that you
are not the only one lit has been
worse than that with me. I-he-" her
voice broke.
He had both her hands in his and was
patting them gently. Poor little girl,
he whispered. Poor little girl
They were at the pier.
1--WE shall meet in the autumn" he said,
as he helped her up the steps.
Her eyes were wet but she was smil
ing.
81 hope So" she answered.-Agnes
Warwick, in Chicago News.