The record-union. [volume] (Sacramento, Calif.) 1891-1903, 1899-08-01
THAT is the lady of whom I was


He looked out of the window with
quick interest. "A dear little maid, if
I may say SO. Yes, and the poor dear
is deaf and dumb; she's talkin' upon
her fingers. Well, I thought from
what you told me they must be stran-
gers in these parts and SO they are /
don't even know the horses nor the
carriage
Thus passed several days. I began
to find myself vastly better and, with
the growth of energy, to look forward
pleasurably to the time when l should
return to my work in. London.
My good friend, the waiter, had sue
coded, much to his delight, in getting
me to go for numerous drives through
the lovely country that surrounds the
watering place. I had even, on divers
occasions, set forth on foot and ex-
plored the coast and the inland lanes
for myself.
I went alone, but never felt the alb
sence of companions, for my expedi-
tions always took place before or after
the hour at which she might be ex-
pected to pass along the promenade,
and so my thoughts were always busy,
whether with anticipation or remem-
brance.
Never once did she fail me: never
once did her aff1iction seem to mar the
beautiful gayety of her mood. 1t ap-
peared that she saw and enjoyed every
little thing that could be seen; nor was
it altogether a young mans vanity that
made me wonder whether she had be-
gun to notice the fact that a certain
sallow invalid was always idling on
the promenade at the hour when she
drove by.
I came to understand the routine of
their daily outing. They were mani
testify living somewhere to the west of
the town. Every day they went
through the inland lanes at the back
of it until they were a mile or two to
the east, and then, descending seward.
drove home by the promenade and the
road that skirts the sea.
Now, one day. with no set purpose
that l would have confessed, not even
to myself, I took the western road
and went into the country. The road
lies for some distance between low hills
and the Southern Sea- at first the sun S
heat was intolerable, but gradually one
mounted higher, and then the sunlight
was but the fit accompaniment Of the
lively wind that blew i'll from the sea-
So went forward in the best of spirits
until l had come to the edge of a great
valley that runs inland from the sea.
Some dozen or so cottages and little
pier stood at the margin of the sea. In
land a few houses were seen among
their fruitful orchards. But at the
edge of the slope there was a little
space of wild wood, and this, as
looked across the homegrown hedge,
tempted me to rest. l climbed the in
tervening barrier and lay down in the
shelter of a little oak tree.
1t may be slept Crtainly I was a
long time under the oak before I be-
came aware that l was not the only
occupant of the wood. Some one was
singing softly, and I could hear foot
steps moving slowly through the fern,
l could tell by the sound that the new
conner was stopping here and there to
pick flowers.
Now, / had enjoyed the solitude, but
even at the first the person who was
coming toward me did not strike me
as an intruder. Her singing was in
absolute concord with my mood; it was
as if one had thought of poem, and a
moment later found oneself humming
the melody that would make of it a
perfect song. lay and waited, and the
singer care nearer.