The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1901-02-10
Published by Special Arrangement.
The Beginning OF
q Romance and
the End OF 1t ~
BY
RICHARD MARSH
Copyright, 1901, by Richard Marsh.l

your nose, / say, we must draw the line
/ looked out upon the sea- The little ships
we're passing to and fro, the waves were
in the sun. all was life and laugh
ter.
.sThe more one sees of the ocean, 1 OBJ
'the more one thinks Of the extent
of space" .
She still continued reading, but I was in
my poetic mood. and went on.
How true are the poets words: The
sea. the sea. the open sea! Yes; open.
boundless, wide, and free!
She still went on reading. / even doubt
if she heard what L was saying.
Miss Day." l said.
No answer. She read on.
Excuse me-Miss DAY."
To my amazement she closed the book
with quite a bang, and stood up in front
of me.
Really, this is too much! 1 come here
for a quiet hour. and you follow and poster
me wherever 1 go!"
l was shocked-astounded! If l had had
the least ideal
Excuse me- 1 said, with a certain
haughtiness. 'sYou will be on the cliff this
EVENING""
ION the cliff? Oh, 1 daresay. Good
morning!"
She went-and / was left behind.
1t was not the first time she had treated
me so. 1t had often happened so before.
But in my bosom L formed a stern resolve
that tonight should see an end of it. /
would tell her my intentions, and when she
was mine-but 1 need not enlarge. Who
cannot understand my feelings at such a
crisis?
The day passed on: the feelings i'm my
breast were beyond the power of my pen
to describe. The first shades of evening
found me upon the cliff. There is a certain
portion of the Shanklin cliff which is used
as a promenade. Here it was 1 sought for
Alice Day. There were ladies young and
old In unusual numbers, for 1t was a glo-
rious evening, but she was absent. Time
passed on, and still she did not come.
1t is, unfortunately, a weakness of mine
to be short-sighted. To recognize a person
L have to look closely. Now. in my anxiety
to find Miss Day / looked at everyone; and,
in the uncertain light. L was compelled to
look both near and long. This, however,
0io not please some of those inspected.
and indeed on two occasions only my pres
ence of mind prevented an unseemly riot.
When. on a public promenade, one man
threatens to knock you down, and another
to throw you over the cliff, it is about
time for dignity.
But. at last. she came; when the people
were going home, the promenade was be-
coming thinned and quiet and the moon
flooded the sea with her yellow glory.
Il have been waiting for you," 1 began,
"the whole night long"
She laughed. No doubt she felt fattered.
She looked very happy.
Have you, I suppose I ought to feel
hcnored."
"No. Pray don't mention it,"
/ did not wish to impress her with the
sense of any obligation. She locked at me
and laughed again. We wandered up the
whole length of the promenade, and
do not suppose we exchanged two words.
But l broke the silence when we reached
the end.
This is the kind of evening"" / was
going TO turn a very neat compliment
had been thinking about 1t the whole way
up; my compliments are more carefully
prepared than might at first appear; about
women and nature being in harmony
both lovely-when she gave a sudden start.
one might have thought, had 1 not been
there, that she had been asleep.
Il beg your pardon, 1 quite forgot"
Forgot what?'
"Oh," looking at me and laughing again
lit seemed to me very purposeless laugh
ter-"nothing."
This was frivolity. 1 was in no mood for
it. 1 had weighty business upon hand.
Madam can be as stilted as Summer
when 1 please-"where can we retire to be
in privacy?'
She stood still. staring at me.
Mr.. Lewis. l do not understand you!'
"You may not. but you will, you will, !
have something to say to you which must
be said alone"
MIR. Enthusiastically, what nave you
to say?'
Then she laughed.
Step here, and l will tell you"
At enc end of the promenade is a figh:
OF steps leading down to the shore below,
On the top of these is a landing, with a
stone seat. There it was that we retired
AS 1 stood there, my bosom palpitating
~ OeS 1ROAt tAC NAtl1
the star-lit sky, the moons pale glories
l was alone with the object of my affection
"Well?" she said. after about five min
utes' silence. I'm fond of these pauses
Who has observed that silence is more
eloquent than speech?-"what do you wan,
to say?"
This That / love you; that my affec.
tions are centered upon you; that in your
bosom lies my heart-rent out from mine
That your eyes are to me sun, moon anC
stars! That, with you at my side. upon
some distant desert isle-eh-"
/ had arranged these remarks some timt
before, but, at this point my memory
broke down. But had not my words gone
home?
"Mr. Lewisl What nonsense are you talk.
ing?"
.Nonsense?' / cried, clasping her hand
ION his hand / press my lips"
Leave me alone. How dare youl II yor
| don't take care / will tell my husband,'
"Your-your-what?" 1 said.
my husband, sir"
But" / gasped-who would not have
been agitated at such a moment-"yo
amt married."
You insolent fellow. How dare you say
r O w NOT marriedt"