The Somerset reporter. [volume] (Skowhegan, Me.) 1868-1909, 1901-12-12
THE VOICE OF
AN ECHO a s s;s y OF s"'

Out of the window of the old wooden
bridge, whose hooded tunnel threw
dark bar across the moonlit mountain
stream, man and woman stood
looking into the pine clad amphithea-
ter of the cliffs. which lay in stiffness
beneath the spell of a September night.
The black hollow of the bridge, with
its one moonbeam sharp across the
floor, contrasted with the awful SPLEEN
dor of the granite gorge, buttressed
and pinnacled in every rising tier, I'M
der the flood of ghostly light, and If
the only object of the couple in coming
here was To see the view they were
amply repaid. From their conyersa-
ton since they left the hotel, which
now lay behind them hidden by a
fringe of the forest, it would have been
difficult to say that this was not their
only object. The small talk Of ac-
workmanship. friendship and even
love. is within certain limits and among
people habituated to each others con-
ventions practically indistinguishable.
Frequently it is difficult to decide why
the degrees should be of so much con-
sequence to the parties.
1t was knowledge of the world and
the good temper of experience that
kept Mrs. Hugonin and Arthur Kin
naird on perfectly unruffled terms with
each other. The conviction that he had
long ago forgiven her, gratifying as it
once had been, was now of such long
standing that it had become confused
with her earlier and less justitiable
conviction that he ultimately would
forgive her. Thus secure in vindica-
ton, the lust for which the dying Eve
bequeathed to all her sex, Mrs. HUI
gonin could without the slightest re-
Election upon her widowhood Except
once more the companionship OF man
who tolerated life as comfortably as
Arthur Kinnaird. The imminence of
the climacteric which she knew to be
threatening him was not to be read
from his figure. His step was alert,
his checks We're bronZed, his tastes
were rational, and what more could
he desire?
She pushed back her dark hair under
its somewhat youthful cap, and, lean
ing her elbows on the ledge, gaZed
without speaking at the haunted defile
Kinnaird gave little laugh behind her
Margaret" he said upon my word, it
seems as if we were boy and girl
again."
why, particularly? she asked,
without turning her head.
"Oh. all this summer" he replied.
She did not ask him to be more eX-
plicit. at is certainly an ideal place"
she said with half sigh. yet it Is
foolish to say that the beauties of ma
ture restore ones youth. One may feel
young again. but one is not really any
the less dspassionate."
Il am not so sure of that" said Kin
naird. Il should like to argue the point
with you-if it could be argued"
you men are all alike" said Mrs.
Hugonin with an inconsistent shrug OF
her shoulder. you give up to logic
what was meant for conversation"
Kinnaird stroked his mustache
thoughtfully for a moment. And so
you think me dspassionateY" he OBJ
served.
"YouY said Mrs. Hugonin, turning
with a delightful laugh. why, Ar
thur, there isn't a sentiment or a CON
viction to whose support society could
order you to contribute"
IF you mean that" he said slowly,
at is quite as feared"
AS Won fearpd?"
you still believe me capable Of as
was. And" he added calmly, 81 don't
wonder"
Though there was no bitterness APP
parent in his tone Mrs. Hugonin was
startled Really. this is unlike you,
Arthur" she said grayely, but yet with
a sense of amusement you petulant
with your past? You provoked with
your recollections? Indeed, have
mistaken you"
He laughed. but gently. Come" he
said, you have no right to be ironical.
Though | once let you go, it was be-
cause | thought you wished to be re-
leased"
Upon my word, Arthur" said Mrs.
Hugonin, Il did not know you were
serious or should not have taken this
as joke"
81 am entirely serious" a
Really" said Mrs. Hugonin, and
she spoke with some irritation. Il
thought all had been forgotten and for
given years ago" Then she drew her.
self up proudly. "Can 1t be that after
all this time you have conceived the
childish within of forcing me to a-to
an apology"
"No-hardly that"
81 am ready to make It," she went
on. "Rut if ! do
Kinnaird moved TO the window be-
side her and laid a hand on her arm.
"You are much mistaken" he said, In
the undisturbed voice which so pro-
voked her. You must indeed think
that / am taking leave of my years.
never had much vanity. l think, but
what had when was younger new
er made pet of. Look over there AT
the rocks, and what do you see?"
Crooks - and moonlight. But, Ar
thur
"The. rocks make me recollect," be
went on, unheeding, that one day
when you were about seventeen you
and ! climbed Lone mountain together
And when we reached the ravne you