Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1897-09-16

pipe for the gray-haired fisherman, lis
tened to his long yarns with keen in-
terest, while ever and anon new gown
or handsome shawl would find its way
to Mother EuniCe's stores, So the
worthy couple came 10 greet the hand
some face with honest welcome, listen
to his voice with genuine liking, yet
failed TO see the bushes play at hide
and-seek on the girls fair cheek, or
watch the stolen chances which passed
from the mans eyes to hers.
A new page in life's history seemed
opening before her wondering gaze.
BATTERIES delicately yelled, thoughts
subtly spoken, led her daily into re-
gions strange and unknown. That
night, upon the beach, when she had
watched with plying gaze strong man
wrestle with his agony, seemed passing
from her memory, while new, deli
cious feeling filled all her heart and life.
Yet strange pang shoots through her
as now and then she sees Allan Fame
ccme and go She misses his kindly
smile, his welcoming words, until she
forgets both in the gladness which fills
her heart at Ernest Hammond's com
ing.
1.-THE summer has been passing
sweet" he says to her one day, "but /
must have done with idleness and go
back to my working life, Will you miss
mo, Mignon2"
"Will miss your lean scarce tell till
know what absence means"
"Ah, Ineed no absence to assure me of
the void my soul will know. You have
given the summer all its brightness,
Ellie, When / first saw your face, Bair
beauty, wondered what strange wind
could have blown you to this rough
shore, but learned to bless that favor
ing breeze, as having waited 10 my side
the fairest thing on which my eyes had
ever rested. Some day, Ellie, you shall
leave this place and make your home
with me. Ny wife will take good care
Of you"
"Your wife? You are married, then?"
broke from the girls white lips, while
as In vision came memories Of his
looks, his acts, his words-all, all
breathing love, and that love for her.
mo, not married eNactly," came the
reply, as though he were speaking afar
off, although so soon to be that I can
play truant no longer, I shall often
think OF you, Ellie, often picture your
fair beauty, and 1 fear, married or
otherwise, I shall envy with mad envy
the man who culls you for his own"
"Then envy I not the woman whom
you call wife. Go back to your gay
world and the girl who awaits your
coming; greet both with fair words;
press her young lips to yours, but re-
member one woman lives who would
feel her ears poisoned by your whis-
pered caresses, her lips sullied by the
touch OF yours. / thank you that you
have robbed your goingof all its sting"
"Elsie, Elsie!" exclaimed the man,
who had listened, with a great amaze
ment growing In his eyes. Listen ere
you so reproach me. loved you ere I
knew 1t. I meant not to drift into dis
honor nor yet to tell you OF my love,
since the telling made it such. Listen,
Elsie. Return that which has burst nil
bounds to-day. Let me see you smile
upon me as of old and win break every
bond that holds me, 80 that only can
hold you to my heart and call you
mine!"
"Think you that L would accept your
love at such a price, above and beyond
all tainted with dishonor2 I am but a
simple girl, Ernest Hammond, but the
way of truth and honesty is at least
open to me. You have proved to me
how false thing may be, let the out
side be fair as IL may, doubt not shall
be the better for the lesson"
The summer waned, the harvest fruits
were gathered. The winter came with
its garb of purity, but Ellie seemed to
take no heed of time. The old people
listened yainly for the ripple of song
they loved so well to hear, and wondered
what had come over the child. But
there was an hour close at hand when
all idle surmises were swallowed up in
one common throb of anxious fear.
Two fishing boats had gone out from
their midst. Allan Fame commanding
them but only one had come back In
safety. A terrific storm had overtaken
them, and those who escaped gave little
hopes of the others rescue. Ellie lis
tened to the story with wide, staring
eyes, then turned away with great
sob and stole down to the beach. Day
after day found her straining her eyes
seaward, until at last the words which
tortured her broke bounds.
81 told you, Allan, you would find
your mistake, and that one day you
would love another. l little dreamed
it was I who made the mistake, who
loved you even when spurned your
great, honest heart. I knew It the day
he left me, Allan, and it gave me
strength to say the words which told
him all my scorn, for side by side with
his pitiful weakness seemed to see
your face shining forth It's love for me;
to hear your voice with the misery in
It you could not hide. All, Sea, you who
spared my life, could you not have
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