The River Falls times. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1894-1933, 1898-06-14
= ouApTER XIII-(CoNTINUED.l

CHAPTER X1ll.-(CoNTINUED.l
Earnestly pleading with her friend,
o,aro advances toward the window
Che too has suffered under the vast
mo influences of suspense. Her face
Lag lost it's youthful freshness; no
do1fcate flush of color rises on it when
sbo en4aks. The soft gray eyes which
-.on Franks heart in the by-gone time
GRO SADLY altered now. In repose they
howe a dim and wearied look. In ac-
ION they are wild and restless, like
owes suddenly awakened from startling
dreams. ROBBED in white, her soft,
brown hair hanging loosely over her
shoulders, there is something weird
and ghostlike in the girl, as she moves
nearer and nearer to the window in
4bp full light of the moon, pleading for
music that shall be worthy of the mys-
terv and the beauty of the night.
will you come in here if | play to
rou?" Mrs. Crawford asks. ut is a
risk. my love, to be out in the night
air
No! rol l like it. Play-while |
an out here, looking at the sea. 1t
cuets me; it comforts ne; it does me
good.
She glides back, ghostlike, over the
lawn. Mrs. Crawford rises and puts
down the volume that she has been
reading. It is a record of explorations
in the Arctic seas. The time has gone
nv when the two lonely women could
take an interest in subjects not con-
nected with their own anXieties. Now
when hope is fast falling them-now
when their last news of the Wanderer
and the Sea-Mew is news that is more
than two years old-they can read of
nothing, but dangers and discoveries,
losses and rescues, in the terrible Polar
seas.
Unwillingly, Mrs Crawford puts her
hook aside and goes to the piano-Mo-
Zarts Air in A, with Variations" lies
open on the instrument. One after an
other she plays the lovely melodies,
so simply, so purely beautiful, of that
unpretending and unrivalled work. At
the close of the ninth variation (Claras
favorite) she pauses, and turns toward
the garden.
Shall l stop there?" she asks.
There is no answer. Has Clara wan
dered away out of hearing of the mu
sic that she loVes-the music that har-
monies so subtly with the tender
beauty of the night? Mrs. Crawford
rises and advances to the window.
Mo- there is the white figure stand
ing alone on the slope of the lawn
the head turned away from the house;
the face looking out over the calm sea,
whose gently ripping waters end in
the dim line on the horizon, which is
the line of the Hampshire coast.
Mrs. Crawford advances as far as
the path before the window and calls
to her. Clara
Again there is no answer. The white
figure still stands immovably in it's
place. With signs of distress in her
face, but with no appearance of alarm,
Mrs Crawford returns to the room. Her
own sad experience tells her what has
happened She summons the SER
wants, and directs them to wait in the
drawing room until she calls to them.
This done, she returns to the garden,
and approaches the mysterious figure
On the lawn.
Dead to the outer world, as if she lay
already in her grave-insensible to
touch, insensible to sound, motionless
as stone. cold as stone-Clara stands
on the moonlit lawn, facing the sea-
ward view Mrs. Crawford waits at her
side, patiently watching for the change
which she knows is to come. "Cata-
Iepsy,' as some call it-"hysteria," as
Others say-this alone is certain, the
same interval always passes; the
same change always appears.
1t comes now. Not change in her
eyes; they still remain wide open, fixed
and CLASSY The first movement is a
movement of her hands, They rise
Slowly from her side, and waver in the
an like the hands of a person cropping
IL the dark Another interval-and
The movement spreads to her lips; they
part and tremble. A few minutes
More, and words begin to drop, one by
enc from those parted lips-words
spoken in a lost, vacant tone, as if she
Is talking in her sleep.
Mrs. Crawford looks back at the
mousse Sad experience makes her sus-
p'clous of the servants curiosity Sad
experience has long since warned her
mat the servants are not to be trust