The Bowbells tribune., 1900-08-17
CHAPTER III.

Both men were already seated next
morning at the breakfast table when
Grace entered the room. The windows
were wide open, and through them the
soft haze Of early May came stealing
in; but the girl herself seemed fairer
promise of the coming summer than
the zephyrs which were it's chosen mes
sengers.
She was dressed in white, bunch Of
creamy roses at her waist, about which
was tied wide white sash. Her
hands, too, were filled with flowers,
while on her head was tied broad
brimmed hat, thus evidencing that, al
though the last to appear upon the
scene, she had not been sleeping away
the early morning hours of this most
exquisite day.
"Good-morning!" she called, in hap
py tones, and then, as if following out
| custom long established, she fitted
first to one and then the other, stOop-
ing to imprint upon each brow a kiss OF
greeting.
A flush rose to Harry Reynolds
cheek as he felt the pressure of the
| young, fragrant lips. But no addeo
! flush was on her own.
| He had said truly She was but a
child. The lovely bloom was on the
peach. Once brushed away, not time
nor eternity could restore it.
Lazy boy" she continued, laughing
ly. can hour ago, and the house was
like a grave. How could you sleep so
long on such day as this? 1t is fitting
punishment that Peter should have had
to pour coffee in my place."
"Really, my dear, find no percepti-
BILE difference in the flavor Of the cof-
fee," replied her guardian, mischiev-
ously. However," he continued, ''you
are just in time to give me a second
cup. Perhaps can Judge better then"
"Shame, uncle!" If I knew how to
pout I would at once inf1ict you with
my ill-humor. AS it Is, have you no
vote of thanks to offer me for these?"
And she placed on the center Of the
table the glass dish which her deft
| fingers had been busy filling with the
early roses, whose hues she had blend
| ed with the true artists skill. Then,
taking her place behind the urn, she
| filled the cup Peter handed her, and
smilingly awaited Mr.. Reynolds decis.
ion concerning it. But when it was rem
dered, abounding in praise, she made
little move of pretended scorn, ano
turned to Harry.
you've been down in your tent, Har-
ry, you told me, did you not? That
means the boat is ready for the sum-
mer campaign. When am to be 1nvlt-
ed to take a row?"
II have lived in my boat for the last
month";" the young man answered. 1T
| 10 $Ia nYana6
earlier and the river never looked more
beautiful than this year. Dear old Po-
tomac! I seem to know it's every light
and shadow-to love every tree along
its banks! The happiest hours of my
life have been spent in my tent. can
lie in my cot and look right on its
broad surface; and whether silvered
by the moon or glistening in the suns
rays, or black with the fury Of the
storm, it seems to whisper to me some
thing Of peace and quiet rest. hate
our Washington winters, with their in
fux Of strangers, and the great war
yearly enacted Of political strife!
think we each have personal cause for
| gratitude when the session is short, and
the politicians make an early flight"
Listen, uncle!" cried Grace. "Dfd
you ever hear Harry so eloquent? He
hates our Washington winters, indeed? I?
He, who for two years has led all the
germans, and given himself up to the
giddy whirl of society. But it was as a
martyr-a helpless victim, only, and We
never suspected his sufferings! This
means that next winter, when I make
| my debut, he is to be exempt from es-
cort duty. Is that to be permitted, I'm
Gle Edgar? Or is it another way of re-
fusing to answer my self-invitation to
be taken on the river?"
Both men laughed.
"Not the latter certainly, Pussie, F."
answered Harry, using the pet name he
so often gave her; land, in proof Of
this, I will invite you for row this
very evening at sundown. Does your
ladyship consent?'
"Oh, Harry!" she cried, clapping her
hands, "there is nothing I should love
so WE'LL"
1--WE will dine first, then, and make
the return trip by moonlight. What
say you, my little one?"
at will be charming!" she replied.
Such happiness as finds it's express
sion in silence rather than words stole
over Grace Hawthorne's spirit, as, IN
obedience to the programme of the
| morning, Sic lcdISo OdSn ia SAAS SN''AA
ioned seat of the boat, which bore her
name painted upon its stern, and as it
sped through the water, propelled by
Harry's strong arms, she dipped her
fingers into the cool current, and
dreamily watched the tiny wake thus
left glinlmering on the distance.
| Now and then only she or Harry
spoke, but at last, after many miles
had been traversed, and the moon in
all its perfect beauty was sailing
through vault seemingly no less blue
than the bosom Of the river, Harry
drew in his oars and let the boat drift
with the tide, which quietly bore them
homeward.
"For or against the tide" he said,
after longer silence than yet had fall
en- between them. els it no so with all
things in life, whether great or small?
Surely it is better to let it drift US
whittier it will, than wear out our lives
in fighting our way against it."
"But we Should then, Harry, be idlers
and dreamers, only. Besides, how often
| ,,,o,,15 M rrxy {nfn shoals quick.