The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1900-03-07
THE TEST OF LOVE
barbara Merriden Came Near Civ
ing Up u Brave Man For
u Coward.

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OF all the noble rivers that SO bound
ing TO the sea none is more splendid
than the Columbia. Its pine clad banks
give n majestic setting for It's silver
stream. But why should 1t be called
silver? At times 1t is the deepest green,
deeper and more luminous than the
heart of Jewel. There are hours
when its cascades have n thousand col
ors, like mother of pearl. There are
dawns, after the mist has lifted, when
the broad surface Of the river above
the cascades Is actually saffron or bur
nlshed gold.
Barbara Mcrriden knew It In every
mood and loved II whether II was SOM
Der with storm or sullen In the harsh
autumn days or scintillant under the
July sunshine. She was as much at
home upon the river as on the land,
and the firm earth, with all Its comfort
and beauty, could never give her the
joy that she felt when the current took
her boat In its strong embrace.
She went to the river In her sorrow
full moments as well as In her happy
ones. She fled to II as TO friend.
When George Caxton told her that he
loved her, she ran to the river TO tell 1t
of the blessing that had come into her
life. But some way she did not feel
the ecstasy she had expected to. The
pleasure in her heart did not rise to
ltn rV.1a I.s. Of fA.. AAA Irtr
and shore. She had often looked for
ward TO this hour as the browning JOY
of her life. But with grief she dlscov-
cred that the song OF nature had a
higher note than the love lyric of her
heart.
Perhaps it was because the hour had
been too long expected. George Cax-
ton and Barbara Merrlden had gone &c
,scfaooN escgoeuer. aneS nnvSy vSef.
event of each others lives. They hat
| always been attached to each other
| George had never thought of any Other
girl with emotion, and Barbara hat
long felt that she was destined TO bt
his Wife She had said yes to his ear
nest question with gratitude and hap
plness, yet now in the mystic hour by
the river with the sun shedding Its
last exquisite glow upon an unreal
world, she felt n WEAKNESS OF spirit at
the federation of her joy.
she "-gs turning from her beautiful
river, Inundated at the inadequacy Of
her own emotions, when she saw walk.
ing among the pines, with eyes fixed
upon the distant glory of the sky, n
young man whom She had never seen
before. lie did not see her Til she was
close by him, and then he looked with
a start at the face of the girl, spiritual
ana exquisite with Its deep emotional
experience. lie stopped and looked at
her, rapt, as If she had been some re-
Gently embodied soul created for this
wondrous hour and she stopped. too
enchanted by the eloquence of his face
When he spoke, It was TO say some
thing remarkable:
as It always mysterious and fear
fully beautiful In these woodsf' he
asked
ct Is always beautiful here" she
said, speaking MS IL in n dream. "And
sometimes It seems unreal and like
like n phantom world, as It does to-
night"
Never before In her life had she spo.
ken In the way that she desired. 1t
was her habit to frame her speech In
commonplace words.
81 should like TO walk out on that
golden water" he went on. at seems
as If 1t might bear one up does 1t notY
Barbara had n fancy and INDUCED
herself in IT,
at will bear UP any one whose heart
Is light" she smiled. But, mind you
1t must have no care mt all. II must be
as light MS ether"
"Would 1t bear you upY he asked.
She shook her head mournfully, and
he said In voice that moved her
"And | should sink like stone"
seemed impossible for them to par
while that witch light cleaned upor
their enchanted wood, and when The
shadows grew gray they became q
part of them-llke shadows they faded
from each others sight.
That night when Barbara went about
her duties and aftcrward when she lay
in her bed she found herself happy
with the clate and triumphant happl-
ness Of which she had dreamed.
George Caxton, her promised lover,
remed part of the workaday world.
Her thoughts turned away from him
In spite Of her efforts to be loyal.
She felt sure she would meet the
stranger again in the woods, and she
did many times. He was a writer by
vocation. He even confessed to being
poet. He was not well, he said The
city had worn on him, so he had come
for long rest there among the pines
His name was Cecil Underwood.
Barbara found 1t Impossible TO resist
the charm of his personality. He seem