The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1901-09-01

-'ii 'HSIt hdlI tragic, nalf peaceful crowd
OF memories, into the open country once
more y stretch Of waste land under the
shelter Of wall looked green and invit-
ing and down this Alleyne went. Behind
the Enclosure stood an old house, so smoth-
cred in ivy, jessamine and clematis that it
vas some time before he discovered that it,
TOO was built of red brick like the wall.
1t was the sleeDiest. most silent dwelling
that he had as yet observed in this town
of drowsy surroundings Not breath of
air stirred the LEAKAGE, not face or hand
appeared at any easement not a voice
came floating from the old garden The
place breathed only silence and sleep.
Alleyne. sketch book in hand, drew
backward some steps into the long grass.
He had determined to waste no more
time, and TO do a quick impressionist
sketch of a corner of this house What a
delicious warm glow there is on the tiles"
thought he. "And the shades of the liehen,
golden. lemon. green, why they are simply
gloriousi'
A door in the wall suddenly opened, and
a girl came out of the shadows. The low,
red sun smOte her on the forehead and
dyed her muslin dress softly pink. a smile
fitted over her face at the sight of the en-
thusiastic artist. His eyes were screwed up
with the intentneSs of his gaze at the roof
and for a few moments he did not see the
gracious young figure standing watching
him from the door He looked up and she
came towards him in the most natural
and simple manner in the world, and asked
him if he would not be able to do his
sketch more to his satisfaction if she were
to bring him out chair?
Aleyne took off his hat.
THAT is very good of YOU" said he.
but 1 am only trying the merest little
daub. a study, perhaps. for a larger draw
ing
She came and looked over his shoulder.
How pretty that is, And how wonder
fully. just with that one splash Of violet,
you have got the effect of the clematisn'
Alleyne put down his sketch book and
smiled gratefully at her. She was very
young and fresh, pretty as so many Eng
lish girls are fair, in early youth, but Al
leyne noticed that her hands and wrists
were burned brown with the sum- that her
neck was too thin for beauty. and that her
waist looked square in a badly-made
spotted muslin dress. But he was that
in spite of these defects she was attractive,
and also good, frank and sincere. He felt
that it would not be disagreeable to ex-
change a few words with her, although
only al hour ago he had been congratulate
ing himself that he had at last discovered
a place where he need talk to no one. This
girl seemed merely a part of the pleasant
restful summer Health shone on her
cheeks and in her eyes; there was no
trace Of self-consciousness, no seeking for
admiration in her manner. 1t was simply
very cordial and kind. She asked him if he
1NoFo = ha had
observed the dear old Flemish houses, the
carving over lintels and doorways, and If
he had looked at the monuments in the
church yonder? She told him that there
was a pretty view of the tower at the cor
ner of the field, and they sauntered to-
wards it through the grass that grew near
~ high as her knees.
Have you noticed the butterflies here?"
said the girl.
Yes, what a wonderful variety! That's
a lovely fellow, that white one. with his
black spots. And L say, look at the blue
one, why, he's too pretty-like flying
turquoise!"
This field here seems TO attract them
There are such beautiful kinds of grasses,
you see. Do watch that fly! I have only
noticed him when the weather is almost
tropicaly hot!'
Alleyne followed the direction of her
eyes, which were brightly enthusiastic as
those Of a woman who receives the gift Of
some new jewel. An insect, whose Won
derful wings, like green enamel, had bril-
liant scarlet patches upon them, was
poised upon a spray of purple vetch. In a
few moments he rose and darted across
the grass.
IF there were any wind to-day 1 should
say it was a geranium petal blown from
your garden" said Alleyne. ''Ah! there's
| another How full of exquisite things just
this one little patch of grass is!'
Yes, indeed, indeed! Such colors One
can spend hours here finding out more and
more about all these lovely creatures and
their ways"
You live here most of the year?' asked
Alleyne.
'Au the year l have never been out of
this place that 1 can remember, excepting
for one week once long ago, at the sea-"
"And you don't get a bit tired of it?'
"Oh, no; why should 1? At least not
when L can be out of doors. 1 have to read
aloud a great deal to my old aunt, whom
I live with Now and then I do get little
weary of that, perhaps. But to-day L am
| let off. so that 1 may have rest before
| the evening.
"Then you have a party tonight"
The girl laughed. mo. indeed! Fancy
Aunt Lucy giving party! 1 am only going
| TO sing at a concert" She blushed wildly,
and pulled a printed programme out of her
pocket
"Oh, I have seen that" said Alleyne.
| And he added. Eyes. by Jove and I've tax
| en- tickets too, I remember"
She bIushed quite poppy-red this time.
| you are coming then, this evening""
"Well. 1 don't know. 1 hadn't thought
| Her face fell and the naive disappoint-
| ment that gave her eye an expression al
| most of pain, was not lost upon him. Wal
| ter Alleyne was the last man to embark
on a Irritation with an unknown country
! girl. but he was kind-hearted in his way.
"Weu, if you advise me to come, must
look in" he said. All, your song now,
which is it?"
She pointed with her sunburnt hand to
her name. Miss Janey Cunliffe.''
30! so that is your song?"
'.Yes, and the one on the next page, too
| Do Won think Janey' a silly name? l was
cbristened like that, I am sorry to say"
"Wen it's uncommon said Alleyne
feeblv. wishing to be civil. And so you
work hard at music?'
&,1o,-,o obliged To be