The Neihart herald. [volume] (Neihart, Mont.) 1890-1901, 1899-08-26

AOOd-pJ' SOOu-Dg, uIOluSE. 1
may call you that?" she whispered,
laying her hand on my arm, OBTAINING
me. "Oh, IL you had o gone away
If you had not left me-left me-"
Hush. hushw I broke in thickly,
covering her hot hand with kisses.
We've must not think Of these
things now, Eide"
Half way across the lawn l met my
wife strolling languidly towards NE.
Where have you been?" she asked,
with a slight frown. 81 have been
looking for you everywhere-round by
the paddock. stables, garden"
Not around by the cedar walk, my
love"
ooh, you were there?"
yes; smoking a couple of cigars
for the last hour or so since I left the
drawing-room."
Then you must have met Miss Stop
ford going home; she left me nearly
an hour ago."
Miss Stopford-Edie? Let me
see. Yes, of course | met her! What
a lovely evening 1t Is! Suppose we
take a turn by the river before din
ner?" suggested hastily; and, she as
senting, we turned towards the wood
that bordered my property south and
west, watered by the briskest, clearest
trout stream in Yorkshire, fringej
with fern, forget-me-not and moss
covered boulders, against which the
water fretted unsteady, and break
ing into bubbling cascades drowning
the voice Of wood pigeon. b~lackbird,
and thrush that haunted the hazel
thicket through which Helen was du-
tlfully breaking a way for me.
What a hurry it is In this even
ing-worse than ever!" she remarked,
when We stood arm in arm by the wa
ter. you stupid, stupid little stream
to be in such a fume to reach that foul
smoky town! Don't you feel you're
well off, hemmed in by these fragrant
banks, serenaded by thrush and black
bird, bedded with sparkling pebbles? p
About a mile further down the lit
tie Col, swelled by some tributary
streams Of baser origin, lost It's crys-
tai identity and, after being merciless-
ly scourged and threshed by the
spokes of mighty machinery, passed
through the manufacturing town OF
Shorten and, flowing eastward in a
porter-colored flood, emptied itself In
to the German ocean.
YES" | assented, languidly throw
ing myself upon the grass and llghtins
a cigar. 1T does seem in a COMPOUNDED
hurry; look, Nell, at that beech leaf
what a rate it's travelling at. by Jover'
Il wonder If 1t will reach the sea
tonight-heigho!" unused Helen, whc
never could look at the fairest streak
Of fresh water without longing fol
salt.
Reach the sea tonight-that leaf,
You silly girl! Nell. would you like
to hear a story?"
eyes, II it's a pretty one."
It's all in a minor key, like mos
true tales. Sit down beside me anc
I'll begin. Once upon a time there
lived up in that red house where 70,
and l, / trust, my dear, will grow graz
together. a young lady named Cecily
Dennys."
ooh, it's a family legend?"
Yes; Miss Cecily was my great.
grand-aunt, and a famous beauty in
her time. l have a miniature of hel
somewhere. l must show 1t to you
She had a score or so of lovers ant
suitors Of all ages and degrees, among
them some Of the most eligible bach.
elors In the county. The eldest sor
of the duke, a most gallant and pol
ished gentleman, proposed to her; but
she would have no one but young Ron.
aid Hernshaw of the Grange below
that stone house among the trees
where We called the other day-a mar
whom her parents n friends mos
sensibly disapproved of, for young
Ronald had an evil reputation, and
lad ~squandered a large slice OF the
property after he came of age.