Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1900-06-07

not an antedlluvlan herself, That d
could be sure of her friendliness. >Be
Sides he said, 1T takes sun.glass t.
burn you at distance. And how dis
tant she isl Cassiopeia in her chair j
not more distant
Marian, sitting on the balcony out
side, stitched away at her embroidery
and said nothing. And when he hac
made an end Of his devoir to Mrs
Phillips, he stepped out on the balcony
with her to look at the view.
ut Is not so fine as nine he said.
'The hills are triAe too near. Th'
view over at Cover Place gives yor
breathingroom; the hills are far enough
away to take tlpge of purple, and thai
enchantment which distance gives, ever
to a beautiful woman And turning
his eyes rested on Maria n, who oolored
slightly in spite of herself, and then
angry at having colored, colored yet
more deeply. Only said he, Ut is the
cold colors, the blues, the puppies. that
belong to distance, not the peaches and
carnations And then, as he looked al
her steadily and soberly, yet with a
twinkllng eye, the peaches and carna-
tions had to deepen and dimple and
smile. and somehow the ice was broken
The next day Mr.. Cover brought
with HIM small parcel, aud unfolding
its contents he tossed curious bit oi
vari colored goldthreaded embroidery
over Marlan's hands as she wrought.
v had it, he said, of an old Moorish
crone in Algiers, who, when l was
sketching her doorway, brought out to
show me huge key, green with age
wrapped in green silk, the key to the
house over in Spain from which her
family were driven with the Moors hun.
dreds of years ago. 1t seemed to me,
he added, that all the hopes and sor-
rows of homeless race were wrought
into the little scarf
1t was quiet impossible for Marion
not to be interested, as he told of the
old womans pathetic love and pride
concerning that home Of her ancestors
Shortly afterwards, he brought oyer a
portfolio of iunumerable photographs
and sketches Of travel, and they served
for series cf lectures, as he called
chem, day after day, till Marian was
walked almost to enthusiasm and seemed
to gee Venice mirrored in her waters
Philae and her temples, and threaded
the streets of Damascus and camped
among the rulLs of Tadmor in the desert
in his companionship. She began tt
listen for the low thunder Of Hassan'
hoofs on the rocky path before Harley
came, and there was always a moment
Of splendid horsemanship at the door
for her to admire when he went, Hes
san rearing and holding himself as II
he were cut in black marble, and dane.
ing and prancing till his rider brought
him into subjection. Sometimes, then
as he held her woods or her silks, he
, talked, too, of more personal things
than travels or books or adventure; he
talked, ever so lightly, perhaps. of his
ambitions, his aims, his hopes, of his
past, of his future, and it would seem
to her that size found herself in the
labyrinth of all inner nature, lofty and
pure and warm as summer night full
of stars; and all unconsciously she re-
vealed to him as much of her own be-
ing and she recoiled, and was next day
colder than ever. Sometimes, too, they
went out into the ripening woods on
the hill above the doctors house, Mrs
Phillips laboring on behind; and Mar
ian noted that it was Harley who
knew the name and way of every grow.
ing thing, the story of every exposed
layer of rock, the habit OF every little
wild creature running across the path,
the whistle of every belated bird.
Us there an ything in nature that you
don't knowT Marian asked him once.
Yes he said, the way to woman't
heart
She redeemed the color Of the fam-
ing maple, spray she held, although, as
usual, she said nothin. But the red did
not leave her cheek, and seeing it thai
night in her glass she hid her face in
her hands.
u am in love with him myself said
Mrs. Phillips, something later. v have
told the Doctor so. If / weren't past
fifty, should be. If | were twenty
and single-Oh, Marian Temple, why
do you fly so in the face of Providence
and your own happiness! Why don't
you give him some encouragement?
Encouragement for what7' asked
Marian.
YOU ale an incorrigible. You would
rather be proud than be happy.
should neuar have married the doctor