Waterbury evening Democrat., 1903-11-04

that several persons were lunching in my neighborhood, but I saw none of them. I sat at & little table by the window and was well served by a neat maid. The bill of fare was ample, and everything was cooked to admiration
 After luncheon, being entirely upon my own resources In the matter of amusement, l wandered down to the lake. The path led alongside the or chard, but the view in it's direction was obstructed by bushes that overran the fence. There was no one to pre- vent my walking across the orchard. No signboard interdicted it, but there was law in the air, and this was a peculiarity of the place
 At the foot of the path I found small boat drawn up on the shore, and felt privileged to take it. I pushed the craft off and sat in the stern, using one oar as paddle, Indian fashion. The lake was very pretty and blessed by cool breeze. I padded out a little way and lighted a cigar.
 To the left the hill came down, verg- ing upon the water in singular wall OA AOSho FLAob WOu1d nave SCCHlSO LuS work of man but for the vast labor 1t would have cost. Glancing along this wall and sosono to the fbare field that fringed the orchard, I perceived girl In pale green dress at work before an easel. She was shaded by large um- brella, such as artists use, planted in the ground and set at so nice an angle that it accurately beheaded, her image in my eyes.
 The distance was not so great but that I might have recognized a person very well known to me, and stared at her, expecting every moment that she would stoop and reveal her face Whom should see? Pretty Miss Jones from St. Jo or-some one else? I was conscious of a most unusual thrill of anxiety. es F;a ., .t,1. .r
 could see her right hand plainly; at least there was nothing but distance to prevent. It seemed pretty hand, and 1t yielded the brush with engaging grace. Yet in my present calm frame of mind l am willing to admit that one human hand looks much like another at 300 yards. But this consideration
 
 things are for the best; they make. up the joy of youth. Thank heaven am still subject to such illusions, for all this did not happen long ago.
 l watched the lady's hand with 8 most agreeable fascination and tried to remember hand which 1t was my chief business to forget. But ones memory in such matters is not what the romantic would like to believe that 1t is. The actual fact is that prob ably could not have identified Anna Lamoine by her hand alone if it had arisen from the lake beside my boat.
 After a long while, as it seemed to me, the lady stopped. I had warning that she would do it, and my heart gave leap. It was great sport; en- joyed every second of it. And then her head came slowly down into the visible area. She was yelled, not heavily, but quite enough. I should not have known her had she been the dear old aunt who brought me up.
 It was very strange that an artist should work with a veil over her eyes; indeed it was not to be believed. I had seen a motion of her left hand just be- fore she bent down. She must have Geen lowering the veil, and this could not have been done except upon my account No one else was in sight.
 The hint was sufficient. took up my oar and gently propelled the boat toward the other side of the lake. There, with my head upon the rail at the stern and my feet almost in the bows of the little craft, lay for lonS time thinking.
 At this distance the girl was a mere dot in the landscape, yet the nearer view was present in my memory.
 "She is some one have seen before" said I, "but she Is not Miss Lamoine, nor Miss Jones of St Jo, nor any pos sible remolding of Sibyl. Who is she, and why do feel this peculiar interest in her? Really she is only a nuisance Of girl who prevents my living in that little house under the tree.''
 Having reached this conclusion I be- gan the serious business of the day, which was forgetting. This must not