Newport weekly independent., 1902-12-26

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 They wandered through the refin- cry, then passed out and all sat down on a log of wood under the cane shed and sang choruses, Annie Laurie and Way Down Upon the Suwanee River," Aurore leading.
 Then some one said she must sing ::Hsm serenade, because the night was so glorious. So Aurore sang.
 How very beautiful it was! He sat near her. It was growing cold. He drew her fur-lined coat around her throat, and fastened it and was clumsy and slow about it, because some of her perfumed laces got caught, and she laughed, and began to button it herself.
 Why, yes, he held her hands, of course. And the music, and the de light of having her there in this glo- him lose his head and plunge into all the wild absurdities which had been gathering in heart and brain all these past months.
 No one knew better than the chem ist himself how ridiculous it was for a man struggling to get foothold on rung of life's ladder in the hope of climbing up to prosperity, influ- encc and ambition gratified, to pour out his tale of passion and devotion into the ears of great heiress who was engaged to Tom Catherwood.
 IT. ( ,1>r >f In proceeding, and said so.
 What was it she answered? "To repeat it all to her a year later, when he had accomplished great things, and held his future in his grasp?"
 Of course, she was joking, and turned it off that way, and would noA take his wild speech seriously, so as not to spoil their gay evening with sentimental nonsense.
 By what right could he, whose CRly possessions were pompous old name, some long dead and gone ancestors, a tumble-down rookery and a few acres, which poverty prevented him from cultivating, to lay bare his secret to those dancing gray eyes-those wonderful eyes. in whose depth man could so easily lose his soul?
 John Hartley's banjo was inspiring, It led them on fantastic "calle walk" from the torch-lit cane shed around the refinery to a cozy room in the corner of the big building near the entrance door, the superintendent office. where there was table and 9 punch bowl and glasses.
 An, it was a merry evening; one to be ever remembered!
 The chemist, looking into Aurore's glowing face and great honest eyes. forgot everything but wild hope and ambition, of which she was the center. And when the hours had fled by. and they went reluctantly to the door to say goodnight. and Aurore jumped in the trap, while he folded a rug over her gown and held her firm, small hands in his before she drew on her gloves, and again murmured foolish things, and she did not check him, but gave him slow. sweet smile, which would always finger in brain and memory, so long as his heart beat, the horizon of his life seemed to widen out into infinitudes of blissful possibilities!
 There seemed to be some confusion! What were these troublous years do- ing here? What was all this sorrow, this unhappiness, this anguish? What had they to do with him and Aurore? Who was it who came between them? And what was the wearing grief which drew line on his face and gave deeper look to Aurore's great, proud eyes?
 The field hands were putting cane on the carrier. the lamps were far ing under the can shed, the creaking and rumble of the rollers was audible, and they were all sitting on log sing ing ''Way Down Upon the Suwanee River once more.
 He was close to Aurore's dear side, because a sweet scent of the violets came to him from her hair and laces, and the moonlight fell full on her face, as she turned it toward him. He saw the soft glow rise and mount as she listened but her sweet. brave eyes never left his as she gave him that ineffable smile. which contained so great promise.
 How could he ever forget it? He had treasured it through those hideous years, those years of deepest unhap- piness. and the latest recollection to fade would surely be that look on Aurore's face as she turned and looked up at him.
 "How do you do? We've come to see you," Aurore's mellow voice said.
 "You've come back, sweetheart? How good of you. How heavenly good! Now, you must never leave me! Never! For all time and eternity you must"
 'Mr. Thompson said must give you these samples. sir. He would like to know if the lining is all right. Had a heap of trouble with that juice. It's old Boudreau's cane, and it's green as grass"