The Montgomery advertiser., 1901-05-19
A SUMMER DYL.
BY SARA B. KENNEDY.

From shining sea up to the blue sky reaches she turned her eyes languid- ly; then with sudden capricious movement tipped the sunshade be- tween her face and his. and fell into a silence Baxter smiled, for he was by this time used to her whims; then having looked to his sail he crossed over and sat beside her in the cookie shell of a boat. With masterful ac- ton he took the sunshade, closed 1t and threw it at her feet.
 "But three hours of these happy weeks remain to me. and I cannot af- ford to lose one glimpse of your face. Your train leaves at eightf"
 Yes"
 Tt is now the best time of the sea-
 T know. but my mother is insist
 "I had not realized until this hour that you were actually going. It seems but yesterday that first saw you on the beach yonder."
 Ut is four weeks today.
 q do not count the time by weeks it is the best time of my life. 1T only I night He broke off wistfully. saw agely.
 She had never seen him in this mood, though for month he had been half lover, half friend, wholly puzzle Be could not always reconcile his two roles; one day so circumspeot ana def- erential, the next making love to her with a touch of audacity that seemed to say he was defying something with In himself Yet always it was an Illus I've lovemaking seemingly real and yet intangible. for never once had he said the decisive words with which an earn est man speeds his wooing. So 1t was he puzzled her. Day after day they had sailed the summer sea, gathered shells on the shore or explored the neighboring sand dunes, while the fleet footed month went by. And now the end had come, and she was going away. He had not realized that the parting was so close, but she had felt it, poig- nantly, vividly ever since the surf waves beat 1t into her consciousness with the dawn. Yes. she was going away; and all the vivacity, the pretty imperiouness of manner which he had found so charming died out of her. and a curious numbness of spirit seized her as she sat in the rocking boat and watched the water redden under the dropping sun. He, too, was watching the water. 50 had not seen the change that came upon her.
 Tt is strange" he said presently in a tone that was new to her. Tt is strange how near a man may come to happiness and then miss it-dragged back by some dread destiny! Fate seems to have set me up as a target for her mockery. She puts an ignis- fatuus beside my path. and then gibes at me because I follow 1t. It is gone now-every ray of light has disap- peared, and I am in the dark; but, thank heaven. I am alone; your clear CT vision never saw the light, never followed it."
 He sprang up, making the boat ca reen and sending the green water their eyes met and he knew that he was not alone in the dark, that she too, had seen the light, real or ignis- fatuus that had shone upon his path. With a great, glad cry he stretched out his arms to her. '--
 Donna, Donna!" .so...
 Then as she reached up her hands to meet his he ag suddenly flung them away. roughly, tempestuously. and dropping in the opposite seat hid his face in his palms. For a minute she watched him in a startled, hurt silence. Then he came back to her and took her hands fiercely in his strong grasp.
 Listen. You are pure RndSfrpe, lyo3 shall judge for me-which should man follow, the call of his heart or the call of his honor? Which should he choose. an honorable hell or sullied heaven?" .1--- .--- - -
 She lifted her terrified eyes to his: "If 1t is sullied 1t Is not heaven; if 1t is honorable 1t cannot be altogether hell"
 Spoken like the white-souled thing you are. Yes, must hold to my des- tiny; not even the magnet of your love-for you do love me, Donna must draw me from the path marked out for me. It is fate"
 He sat for a moment with his face in his hands, then went back to the Tapping sail; and Donna, understand ing nothing but feeling intuitively by the strain of the crisis that was upon them. turned her miserable eyes to the sea and let the wind dry the tears on her lashes. Presently she knew the boat had swung around and had her brow pointed to the landing. No sin gle word was spoken; only the gurgle of the waters parting under the Keel broke the silence. At the pier Baxter stepped out and extended his hand, nis face drawn and haggard
 IT, is goodbye" he said, as she stood haside him. T shall not see you apoin-I dare not! I thank you for the happy hours you have given me; and if in return I have caused you one nanr. I did not mean it. Forgive me and forget me"
 Then he was gone, and Donna scarce lv seeing the path ahead of her. went slowly up to where her mother waited for her on the hotel piazza.
 A year went by, and in her own home Donna found no solution of the summer idyl that started in comedy and ended in tragedy. The one day there came letter from an old school friend:
 "They are going to marry me off on the sixteenth; not to the man I love. buf to him to whom my promise was given when I was only a child of six teen. My father says I am in honor bound to hold to my engagement, so
 Tuesday. "A CHRONICLE OF THE S