Evening star., 1897-06-05

half f-hysterical laugh and slight shiver as
she looked up at the high interlacing of the
boughs above her head, it's as public as
the aisles of a church, and really one feels
as If one was speaking out In meeting.
Isn't there some other spot little more
secluded where we could sit down." she
went on. she poked her parasol into the
usual black gunpowdery deposit of earth
which mingled with the carpet of pine
needles beneath. her feet, "and not get all
sticky and dirty?
Barkers eyes sparkled Il know every
foot Of this hill, Mrs. Horncastle,' he said,
"and if you will follow me I'll take you to
one of the loveliest hooks you ever dreamed
or II : an old Indian spring now forgotten,
and / think known only to me and the
birds It's not more than ten minutes from
here: only'-he hesitated he caught
sight of the smart French bronze buckled
shoe aLd silken ankle which Mrs. Horn
castles gathering up of her dainty skirts
around her had disclosed-''it may be lit
tie rough and dusty going to Your feet"
But Mrs Horncastle pointed out that she
had already irretrievably ruiEed her shoes
ard stockings in climbing up to him-al-
though Barker could really distinguish no
GiTinution of their freshness-and that she
might as well go on. Whereat they both
passed down the long aisle of slope to lit
tie hollow of manzanito, which again open
ed to view of Black Spur, but left the
hotel hidden.
What time did Kitty go?" began Barker,
eagerly, when they were half down the
slope
upon the CLASSY pine needles. and not only
stopped an answer, hut obliged Barker to
give all his attention to keep his COM
panion from falling again until they reach
ell the open. Then came the plunge through
the manZanito thicket, then cool wade
through waist-deep ferns, and then they
emerged. holding each others hand. breath
less ard painting before the spring.
1t did not belle his enthusiastic descrip-
ten. A triangular hollow, niched in
enelf of the mountain side. narrowed TO
fnk, "a. -<aff rtpry
percolated through fringe of alder, to
fall In what seemed from the valley to be
a green furrow down the Whole length of
the mountain side. Overhung by pines
above, which met and mingled with the
willows that everywhere friDged 1t, it mace
the one cooling shade in the whole basking
expanse OF the mountain. and yet was pen
etrated throughout by the intoxicating
spice CT the heated pines.4 FIowering reeds
and loEg lush grasses dref a magic circle
round an open bowl-like pSol in the center
that was always repleni3ed to the slow
murmur Of unseen riv1de that trickled
from a white quartz cavern in the noun
tain side like vein opened IN it's flank.
Shadows of timid wings kEossed it. quick
rustlings disturbed the re0hs, but nothing
more. 1t was silent, but treathing; 1t was
hidden TO everything but the sky and the
illimitable distance.
They threaded their way around It, on
the spongy carpet. covered by delicate lace
like vines thSt seemed to caress rather
than trammel their moving feet, until they
reached an open space before the pool 1t
was cushioned and matted with disintegra-
ted pine bark, and here they sat down
Mrs. Horrcastle furled her parasol and laid
II aside. raised both hands TO the back of
her head and took two hairpins out, which
she placed in her smiling mouth, removed
her hat. stuck the hairpins In it, and hand
ed II 10 Barker. who gently placed 1t on
the top of q tall reed where during the
rest Of that momentous meeting II swung
and dropped like a flower; removed her
gloves slowly. drank still sm'lingly and
gratefully nearly a wiEeglass full of the
water which Barker brought her in the
green twisted chalice of lily Leaf. looked
the picture of happiness. and then burst
into tears.
Barker was astounded. dismayed, even
ferror-stricken. Mrs. Horncastle crying!
Mrs. Horncastle. the imperioUs, the col
lected the coidly critical. the cynical, smil-
Ing woman of the world, actually crying.
Other women might cry-Kitty had cried
ofte1-but Mrs. Horncastle! Yet, there she
was. sobbing: actually sobbing like a school
girl. her beautiful shoulders rising and
falling with her grief; crying unmistakably
thfough her long, white fingers. through a
lace pocket handkerchief which she had
hurriedly produced and shaken from be-
hind her like conjurers trick; crying
through her beautiful eyes, thousand
times more lustrous for the sparkling beads
that brimmed her lashes and welled over
Ike the pool before her.