Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1897-02-11

| one DluSneu, WITHOUT knowing why, Ut
something in his tone; and then said
rebukingly: Don't you wish to see Cairo?
This is the best time Of the year for the
Nile, and you are wasting weeks of it.
What u pity it ISL
Let me contradict you for once, please.
l don't care bit to see Cairo. | am not
wasting time; | am improving it. 1t is
not pity at all. Do you. want so much
| to get rid of me? l know"--with sudden
contriton-''that l am an awful nuisance
to YOU
'Oh, no. no." exclaimed Anne. Mortified
by this view of the matter. How can
you say SO? When my uncle and aunt
are so pleased to have you here!'
And you-are you pleased!
| She was silent Her eyes were cast
down; her cheeks slightly flushed; her
sweet curved lips a little tremulous.
Give me some comfort" he murmured,
i'll the caressing voice that was SO pleas
ant to the ear. at is Christmas day,
and we are both in Il strange land. Tell
me that you do not mind my being here;
that is all / ask. Anne, you promised to
be my friend"
His hand sought hers. She let him hold
it for IL moment in his own, and then
tried to speak, but the words that she
would have liked to say refused to be
uttered He had never held her hand in
his as he held it now. He had never
called her by her Christian name before.
SO she was silent-struck dumb with
amazement, fear, and II sort of soft. sweet
shame that did not make her altogether
miserable. Perhaps her silence told him
more than she herself could know.
"Anne! dear Amer
"Michelle is nowhere to be found. moth
err said Harold, stepping into the room
by the other window. "She must have
gone to look up Miss Fairfax or the Sea-
forths."
Had he seen any ching? Anne had start
| ed away from LaNrcnce's side as soon us
| his step and voice made themselves heard
at the Window; but even Lawrence was
taken aback, ard did not recover himself
for Il moment. Harold's eyes seemed to
twinkle and his mouth to twitch, but on
the whole he preserved a laudable gray
ity, and spoke as if he had observed moth
ing unusual in thcin.postion.
Paul Easilake had not joined in the
search for Michele through the garden
walks or en- the veranda He knew her
| haunts better than that He said Il word
| or two ia Mrs. Dumaresq's ear. then left
the Drawing room, and went through Il
| maze of passages in the back portion of
the house. Here was Il little room with
n stone floor, whitewashed wallis and Il
deal table and chair; Il room with no par
! ticular name or function of it's own, which
was used as Il play room for the children
| in sammer, and at all times as Il place
where flowers might be arranged, photo
! graphs mounted clay modelled, or any oc-
| cupation pursued which was not compati-
| BILE with entire neatness. Here, through
the half-open door, he could see Michele
| standing in front of green fir tree in a
| flower pot---it had been imported for the
| occasion-rearranging strings of glitter
| ing balls, dolls, oranges and bags of
sweets. With n slight smile upon his
| face, Eastlake stood and observed her for
| n minute or two before he spoke. She
slooked very pretty, he thought; not mel
| ancholy nor out of humor, as he had some
| times seen her.
He entered, and watched her for some
minutes without speaking rs she arrang-
| ed her toys and fruit with wonderful
swiftness and precision.
"What do you want?' she asked at last
"May help your" he said, picking up
an orange which had dropped to the floor
| mo"
| He pulled out the ends of his mustache,
adjusted flower in his buttonhole, made
playful thrusts at Michelle's setter with
the toe of his boot and looked>at her from
| time to time with CLEAN of merry mis-
chievous meaning in his brown eyes that
presently made Il longer silence unendur-
able to her. She stood erect and looked
at him Indignantly. He became serious
and attentive at once.
"Mr Eastlake," she said, do you want
to help me or to hinder me-"
"Certainly to help you. l camc-chiefly
for that purpose. What can do?"
"Well, first of all, don't stand there and
tease poor Ponto. He can't bear it. 1t is
| horrible of you to do it, Secondly, cut off
this branch for me. You must not break
it; you must cut it; or you will shake
down all the thiags."
..Have you u knife?" he asked.
She gave him large buck handled
| knife, which was quite strong enough to
! cut away the branch, as 1t was not II thick
one; but just as he was finishing the OPP
Grafton. the knife closed with a sudden
snap-not exactly over his fingers, but in
! such a way as to intlict deep cut upon
| two of them.
"Halloov' he said, snatching his hand
/ away.
'I4et me look" said Michele. turning
| round with suddenly frightened face.
/ He smiled and muitied his hand in his
| handkerchief. ut is nothing. Barbara
will just put something round il" he said.
But she had caught sight of the stains
upon the. white cambria, and was off like
the wind for assistance. Barbara, the
nurse, Il comedy and capable Scotchwom-
an, came at once, and bafhed and bound
up the fingers as if they belonged to one
of her children. Mr.. Eastlake meanwhile
protested that she took too much trouble,
/ but was forced to submit because the
bleeding broke out afresh when the band
nge was removed When this business
was over he looked into Mfchelle's pale
and somber face with smile. She stood
quite still for n moment, then threw up
her han6s before her face, and burst into
an agony of tears.
CHAPTER X.
In another minute he had taken her