Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1896-06-25

the notes Of lose-btrd when Il i alone
with lie mate. And love you.
Oh, the deep silencss Of The midnight
forest Ia those deeps there are siIences
In sound Everything speaks: The trees %
the violet heaven that stoops TO them. the
grasses TO the wind that lays IL cool length
upon them In marsh places the tail.
green swords Of the tnles clash sofsiy 70.
gether. The broad palms Of the vine maple
clasp and cling together; the velvet taps of
the frs move ihythmicalIy 10 and fro; the
pines whisper. The murmurins Of coun,
less insects sweils into one harmonious
choir-baf all 50 son, 50 far awasi Itis
all sound, and IL il al silence. One hears
the fall on the tiniest needle on the grass.
the caressing pressese Of one leaf upon
another, the curve Of each blade OF grass
II one knows how To hear Gods dlivinest
music.
After long time Glider spoke. His tome
was that Of man who s..ads, rapt and
exalted. lifted out ofhimself. on some noble
mountain height-thc world, with its little
fevers and passions, its petty hopes and
ambitions, beneath his feet.
Dearest he said, we are in Arcadia
but we must go cut from t.
We cannot she answered. 1T Is ours
forever
Dearest. dearest You break my heart
How can I tell you now?
You can tell me anything-nor
He pressed her to him with passionate,
despairing tenderness.
Dearest his voice trembled-T have
tried TO keep away from this hour; knew
!. could not last
III viii lssi,' she said.
'Sidonie, s'idonie cannot marry You.
The words struggled from him.
4 knew that, said the s-:sl simply. 4
have felt 10 all the summer. But IL does
not matter. IL Cannot take this hour from
usl What can we ask that would be
grester thanAonly TO have loved each other :
1t is our hearts and our souls that love !.
the world cannot separate them Wherever
we go, this hour shall go with US. There
is nothing We may not endure .ee'
He leaned his mouth down upon hers,
and pressed il there, motionless, and prayed
silently-with choke in his throat that
must have shaken the very angels.
So they sat until presently there came a
white glimmer along the tops of the trees
1T is the dawn, breathed the girl, stirring
happily, as bird does in its nest. Now,
l can find the way. l know where the
east is
There followed a wretched week for
Glider. He kept away froE. Sidonie. He
watched her going quietly on with her
work. pale but serene. There was an un-
fortunate girl with a young child in a
shack near by. Her parents had cast her
of, and no woman would go near her. No
woman save the one Glider loved She
went constantly, day and night, to care for
her and the child. Meeting her some.
times on these errands of divine mercy,
Glider was stfSck by the new look of aus
terity on her face. At such times he could
have fallen at her feet and kissed the hem
Of her gown. She reminded him so keenly
OF the woman she had most wished to be-
the mother Of Christ.
At last a night came when he nerved
himself to write to Constance. It was a
warm, purple autumn night. The sun had
gone down in q crimson haze, the twilight
had deepened to dusk. He sat on his door
step watching the light in Sidonie's win
dow, over which the vines were still green.
Crickets chirped in the new growth of
ferns that had sprung up since the late rain.
A night-hawk sunk upon the air, uttering
its mournful, musical note. 1t was Satur-
day night, and ali the unmarried men had
gone TO Whatcom to spear salmon; every
one else had retired. Only that one little
path of light glimmered across the dark
ness, leading, Glider thought, TO heaven
the heaven from which he was shut ont
forever
He rose suddenly and went in, closing
the door. His lamp was lighted. He
flung himself into chair and seized his
zen. His lips were set together, hard.
Then his eyes fell upon Constance's let
ter that had lain, unopened, week on his
table. He opened it mechan;cally-
Ten minutes later he was cropping like a
blind man 10 Sidonie's door. Before he
reached 1t she came out, on her way TO the
mother and child. As he met her he took
her in his arms and drew her close-close.
Let me co. she said, sweetly and grave
ly. The child needs me-
Il need you, tco,' he whispered, in a sha-
ken voice. Let me go with you. have
the right. There is no reason now why
should not go with you to LIES end
He felt the quick, responsive pressure of
her hands then.
Is there not ? she said.
Dearest, trust me. l do NOT choose 10
tell you what was between US. There IL
nothing now. win you trust me without
knowing more than thatf'
She sunk upon his breast in her sweet,
childish way.
why not?' she said. 1T is foolish to
wish TO know little things That is for lit
tie natures. ] wish to know only great
things-and the greatest of all already
know-that we love each other