Newport daily independent., 1903-04-04
Mrs. Marrifeld allowed some sec

so sorry to know that things have not gone so well with you. !. Since my marriage I heard nothing, and before that your future seemed as- sured. You had made very satis factory match, it was said. l trust" again her smile was like the waver- ing sunlight, q trust your position is not quite as painful as 1 found mine then"
 He stirred confusedly. My lone liness-"
 "We must expect loneliness under certain circumstances"
 'No one can blame us for trying to dispel it?''
 ''True. A human impulse"
 Again he felt the moments slip ping by. "When l met you at Van Schotens." he hurried his words. q was strangely overcome. When you said | might call it was like thought of Heaven After these weary years, 1 wonder if you realize what it means, to me. A worn trav- eler longing to find his way back to his youth. And suddenly coming face to face with the one who once was dearest of all. And she puts out a hand and clasping it he jour neys back with her across memory's meadows and bridges of tender rec ollsction, until they reach some spot where once they stood as lovers"
 "The poetic instinct,'' said Linda, softly, "inherent-sometimes even dangerous if yielded to-"
 "How dangerous?"
 "Why, you see-the meadows might be flooded, and-the bridges burned"
 ''You have not burned our bridges, Linda?" His breath game rapidly again.
 "They are well charred, rest as- sured."
 "No," he cried, huskily. q will not believe it"
 q counsel you not to approach them. They might not bear you
 He stood up suddenly. Good heavens!" he cried. "you hate mew
 'Hate you?" The murmured words ran into easy laughter. She, too, had risen. Her counte- nance was radiant, maddening. He plucked at her wrist.
 "You laugh? You have forgotten how your arms were round my neck your face upon my shoulder--you have forgotten" There he paused, drew a hard breath and instantly felt that he would give all he possessed to recall his words. For Linda Mer- rifeld shrank. eluded his grasp, and, putting out her hand, seemed with an indescribable gesture to brush away contamination.
 q will go," he said, chokingly.
 "So soon? A thousand pities not to have seen the judge. .. You will find him sympathetic and-ah- charitable. More so than my self"
 Seymour turned. There was a sound of voices in the hall. Some one came swiftly through the music room arch. He stood dumb. Was it her daughter, this reincarnation, this old-time Linda-only in richer, fit ter attire?
 'My dcar," he heard the mother say, "do you remember this old friend of ours?"
 And then the girl, her gray eyes sweeping him in easy scorn from head to foot: "One meets so many old friends"
 Not even to have recalled his name! He hardly knew if he stam- mercd an adieu. He was in the street once more stumbling to his carriage. And now a singular sensation pos sessed him. For all the stone and granite faces of the avenues man. sions seemed conyulsed with sardon- ic merriment, and from splendid in- terior he seemed to hear the echoing mockery of women's voices:
 An impudent adyenturer."
 "Oh, no, my loye-the very merest -trifer. IN. o. Times-Democrat.
 Toothpicks, Skewers and Reels.
 One of the first wood mills estab- | GShpd in Maine was tO mapnfanturo