Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1898-10-08

grinned in q malevolent manner, looking
at Winifred with an elaborate pretense of
indifference from beneath half-closed eye
lids. you've not beard, Miss WINNER"
continued the lady's maid. Really, I'm
surprised! And stories like that do go so
fastr'
"'Twas all over Tolgooth to-day, when
he brought her through the works. Mr..
Pascoe put in, with the same disagreeable
smile, cycling a stone on the roadway as il
he meant to ascertain its chemical proper
tons by sight. "a fine girl she is, too
shows the man has good taste"
Eyes, indeed. Mr.. Pascoc," Miss Ire
whella responded, having much recours
to fluttering of the lace handkerchief, and
tittering behind I'll 'and you show your
taste, too. Hal hal Really she's Il fine,
tall, stylish young lady, as you say, Mr..
Pascoe, that will do a man credit. Hat
ha! Really you're too bad, Mr.. Pascoe.
But it's a fact that gentlemen do seem TO
run after tall, MISUNDERSTANDING wo-
men;' and Miss Trewhella smiled slightly,
drew herself up to her full, tall height,
rustled her fashionable silks and furs, and
cast her eyes modcstly down.
Darker, darker grew the chill wintry
pail of a strange misty night, louder beat
the surging tide of heart and brain, as
Winnie Caerlyon stood still and calm, IN
moved in torture, defeating all the ma
licious pleasure of her unworthy foes.
You are alluding to Miss Tredennick, ]
SUPPOSED" she said, her voice only n little
harder and sharper than usual. 'She is
very handsome"
Yes observed Mr.. pascoe in reply, al.
though she had neither addressed nor
looked at him, smacking his lips as he
spoke, and putting his hands in his pockets,
'she's somethen worth lookin' at--a fine
young woman"
And the Captain thinks exactly IA you
do, Mr.. Pascoe," Miss Trewhella cried,
giggling excessively. "It'squeeryoudid'nt
near of it, Miss Caerlyon; it's quite a
charming match
And Winifred Caerlyon replied, very
calmly still, with even the culver of a
smile on the composed pale endurance of
her face, YES, it is Il very suitable match.
Miss Tredennick is very handsome" bade
them both good evening, and walked
swiftly away.
Puzzled wrinkles came on Mr.. pascoe's
narrow forehead.
II shouldn't have thought that Miss
Winnie would have liked to hear tell Of
your news. Miss TrewhcAa; but she
doesn't seem to mind. She was always u
queer, silent maid, without much TO say
for herself"
Yes" said the waitirg-woman, with
disappointed enmity, "she pretends very
well, but Eve no doubt it's n pretty hard
blow TO her"
Hard enough to strike her to the earth
hard enough to strike her down there by
the cold gray sea, where the drifted snow
Law deep and white, yelling the black,
cruel rocks in cold wraith-likc softness:
and gladly, with the gladness of morbid
misery, would she have felt il cnfold her
PROSTATE form, her outstretehcd hands
and rigid face with the chill, suffocating
s~oftness of a shroud. 1t seemed rs if it
would enwrap and soothc her into the
cold, calm peace of Deaths sound sleep;
for she said. 1T is better for me to die than
TO live"
And yet, If the stricken girl-the bright,
sweet, tremulous dawningo of whose young
|wOmanhood had darkencd in n moment
into impenetrable night-the few pale,
pure lowers of whose tender, sacredly
loved and guarded hopes were crushed
into remorscless, ~disfigured ruin-had
been asked what 1t was that she had lost
and was mourning for with fearless eyes
and bleeding heart, she could not, if she
would, have made reply intelligent to
other than Him who reads the heart, and
TO whom the anguished ejaculation, the
wild, incohercnt petition, the fragmentary
prayer broken by convulsive trembling
lips, are the clear translation of the hidden
language of the soul. which no man born
Of men Gun read, and say with certainty
"This is the Interpretation thereof"
Was it a presumptuous, ambitious, un-
maidenly love, and its speedy, well-merit,
ed punishment? Was it the Wild, roman
tic folly of a passionate, half educated
, girl, who flung away all the treasure OF
her young heart in exchange for a stran.
gers transient liking, transient admira.
ton, and transient caresses? All, poor
little ~friendless, unlovcd girl, our pity
ing, guardian angel gave 1t "A nobler name
It, had been the idyl-tcnder, magma,
tive-of n commonplace, work-a-day-world
eNistence-the poem-the passionate, har'
monious embodiment of the song, the
melody Of which stirred the enthusiastic
girlish soul all through its slumbcrinG
life, il had been a beautiful crring wor
ship, a fond false faith, a devoted mistak'
en- creed. She had treasured il rs n jcwe
of great price and beauty, to be looked at
} cherished, delighted in, in those rare sweet
hours Of freedom when the shrewish step
mother, the seven noisy children. The
small, over-crowded home, the hard work
the hard words, her fathers frowns
Thomas Pascoe's detested presence. had
all, rs it were, passed away, and left her
alone and peacefully happy by her young
mothers grave in Trewilliau churchyard
or singing the plaintive lullaby for LITTLE
Louie, when, from the little dormer-win
dow looking Stewards, there floated down
on the wide eXpanse of ripping water!
lost in the silver mists c. the far horizon
the yearning breath Of the tender words
sweet and low, sweet and low,
Winds of the Western Sea-
1t had been something to think Of in hel
meek maiden prayers, with an added
voiceless pe;ition-something to ponder in
timid wonderment and sad tender yearn
ing, when she knelt beside her mothers
grave in Trewillian c%hurchyard, washed
the simple slab, cut the waving grass,
softly, carefully, with loving painstaking
rs though she were fashioning a garment
for the quiet sleeper's wear, and kissed
"Winifred, the beloved wife Of John Caer,
lyon"
She wondered so il mother knew
knew him-him whom her child loved.
She had whispered it so often down
amongst the daisy roots and clustering
MOSES, she wondered did mother" know
know that upon the lonely altar a fire
,,W W/MM/EuNHH+ MN