Walker Lake bulletin. (Hawthorne, Nev.) 1883-1926, 1898-04-13

mosa present; but she ha9 not sung
many notes before they realized this
was a new thing in singing. The voice
had rich, peculiar quality, and the
soul of the woman spoke through 1t.
Mr.. Hardcastle decided there and
then that he would ask her TO marry
him. Mr.. Cyril Ranger could not for
the life of him think what he had been
doing TO have spent whole week near
such a woman and not have proposed TO
her. Two young men who had come
week ago, intending to stay for the
night only, and who fingered on be-
cause, as they said, of the soclable, gay,
unconventional life of the place-in 9th
err words, because of the little widow
each vowed to himself he would write
that very night to his father and ex-
plain the situation, suggesting a read
justment of business relations with a
view to marriage at an early date.
Edward Brogden was deeply affected.
Next morning when he found himself
seated beside her on steamer making
an excursion round the island he said:
''Well, Mrs. Walton, have you any more
surprises for us? Do you know you as
| tonlshed US all last night? | cannot
reconcile the sadness of your singing
with your usual gayety. l am puzzled
to know which is your real SELF
"Both are real" she said. Il have
at least half a dozen quite distinct
selves. Sometimes one is to the fore,
sometimes another. 1t depends on my
mood and my surroundings whether |
laugh to prevent myself crying or break
my heart singing sad songs through
sheer delight and the joy of living"
you are an enigma"
mo, am woman
at Is the same thing"
She drew his attention to Ailsa Crag.
Eyes, yes, the crag," said he, absent
ly. DO you know l always feel at
tracted by anything enigmatical or
mysterious; the more complex woman
Is the better like her; am weary of
simple, transparent souls whom he that
What splendid interest it would be!
All, Mrs. Walton, life would be worth
living If YOU"
"See, Mr.. Brogden, we must be near
ing Lashlam and do look at those low
ers wandering along the road. Isn't it
sadY
what Is sadT
"Oh, they will get married.
"That Is the best thing they can do"
Mrs. Walton Informed him with tears
in her eyes that she felt little hys-
terical to-day. that it was the last day
of her holiday, and that If he would
excuse her she would not talk any more
but would sit quietly by herself at the
other side of the boat.
"The last day of your holiday? Then
you must certainly let me speak to you
of something which affects me vitality"
he said, as he raised his hat and moved
away.
afterwards" she exclaimed; "after-
wards"
At 5 o'clock that afternoon a large,
dull, florid, bald man of about 80 was
standing in the hall with Mrs. Walton
when Edward Brogden came in to look
for her to have his talk on something
vital to himself.
"Allow me to introduce you to my
| husband, Mr.. Brogden," she said, smil-
ing through her gold-rimmed glasses.
All that day Mrs. Owens cap was in
a chronic state of displacement through
shaking her head over the dull, ford
man. mo wonder, poor thing, she
wanted to be gay and to forget" she
kept saying.
| Mr.. Brogden staid it out to the bitter
end Perhaps he was more of an ex-
perimentalist than lover, and awaited
new developments. Perhaps he was
really In love with this fair-haired wife
of the dull ford man-this wife who
took holiday once every year by her
self, and tried to be happy, and gay,
and to forget-forget.-Argosy.