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

VA IltEHg NN They both landed
DER INEtM Wat Roderick, and
AkEE>~- she preceded him
along the landing-stage to the hotel,
and, as we have seen, entered her name
in the visitors book at the request Of
the proprietor.
Mrs. Walton! Why, she must be
widowv'
He thanked his stars that he was
planted in the same hotel with her.
Then began the maddest happiest
time in all Edward Brogden's career.
He let himself go. In proportion to the
discretion in all previous affairs of the
heart was the abandonment and reck-
essness of this last infatuatlon.
He cast all prudence to the winds. He
knew nothing about Mrs. Walton, nor
did he wish to know anything.
He was sick of prudence. He had
been prudent and cautious all his life,
and here he was at 80 years of age I'M
loved and unloving. Yes, he would let
himself go for once.
| 1t would appear that all the unattach-
ed men in the hotel had come to SINH
lar decision, for before many days were
over they were all her devoted slaves.
| She smiled through her gold-rimmed
glasses on all impartially, and she
showed no invidious preference as to
| the person with whom she walked or
| talked.
The ladies, too, fell under her spell,
n M 1nslapa1 ha ha oh inc
young thing, so gay, so innocent.
Mrs. Walton Is quite delightful, of
| course" said one matron to another,
but / must say she is little indis-
Greet, and may lay herself open to mis-
| construction"
,, Il suppose she is what one might call
an enlancipated woman"
But even an emancipated woman
might discriminate; she accepts atten-
| tons from all sorts and conditions Of
men,"
And yet one cannot say she encour-
| ages them; she is quite pleasant with
women, too, and will spend whole
morning playing with the children"
Mrs. Walton came up at this moment,
smiling and readjusting her eyeglasses.
+, These were attached by a slender gold
chain to her brooch, and were constant
ly slipping from her eyes, but they were
Indispensable to her sight, and she al
| ways replaced them.
| "Ah, here you are. My dear Mrs.
| Owen, your cap is one side. Let me put
1t straight this minute" which she did
with light touch, stroking the white
| hair dellcately, and remarking she hop
ed she should have beautiful white hair
when she was Il few years older. "And
now this cap tells a tale; you have been
ut your troubles again. You have been
shaking your head over the shortcom-
ings of your cook down there in Surrey,
or the depravity of the gardeners. AS
| said the other day, when you were
worrying about the am-making, For
get forget; be happy at least once
year; leave all troubles at home, and
come out for a holiday; laugh, be gay
| forget
II believe you promised to sing to us
tonight, Mrs. Walton?" said Edward
Brogden. strolling up at this point
"Ah, did | promise? | never meant
| to sing here. and brought no music; but
| perhaps something will come to me-"
she said, rising and sweeping across the
room 10 the piano. where three or four
men stood waiting for her.
She always dressed in half mourning
and tonight she wore a long black
gown with bodice of heliotrope glace
silk yelled in sequined net of the same
shade-a combination which set off her
lovely complexion and hair to perfec-
| ton.
She ran her fingers over the keys. 1T
| Is no use," she said at last, letting her
hands fall. Il must contradict my own
teaching and be serious; none of the
happy songs will come"
They all declared they liked serious
songs best.
And | must warn you," she said,
"all my songs are old songs-all my
songs are memories" A far-away look
came into her eyes as she lifted her
hands TO the keys again and played the
opening bars of Tostl's "Good-D by" De-
casions on which they had heard this
song beautifully rendered required to