The pioneer press. (Miller, Hand County, S.D.) 1893-190?, 1903-10-07
CHAPTER l.
The Girl He Left Behind Him.
"Oh, my Nora Creina, dear!
NY gentle, bashful Nora Creina!
Beauty lies in many eyes,
But love In thine. oh. Nora CreinaH'

My gentle, bashful Nora Creina!
Beauty lies in many eyes,
But love In thine. oh. Nora Creina!"
sang Laurie Isle.
She came running lightly down the
shallow stairs, through the wide hall,
out into the glorious summer morning.
Such morning-blue, clear, brilliant!
Overhead yellowest, most dazzling sun
shine; underfoot mossiest, greenest
turf. And all around howers-pink
and white, and crimson and damask,
lifting their Haunting heads to gaily
nod the sun "Good-morrow."
Pickering through the hawthorn
branches, down by the gate. cleaned
a spot of color. For just beyond the
hawthorn some one was standing, and
watching, and waiting-had been
standing, and watching, and waiting
Tor an hour or more
He had come to know the old house
by heart-every inch of It; and it was
well worth studying in its quaint pic
turesqueness. 1t was long and low
and rambling; it had diamond-latticed
and lozenge-atticed windows; 1t had
queer-peaked gables. 1t was covered
from cellar to roof with ivy-darkest,
glossiest, richest ivy--and would
doubtless have made an exquisite NOR
sci on canvas. But the gentleman
down by the hedge of hawthorn was
not an artist, not poet, not lover of
romantic decay. Instead he was an ex-
ceedingly handsome, exceedingly hot
headed, exceedingly miserable young
man.
Just now he started with look Of
sudden animation, and abandoned his
lounging posture, as Laurie's white
figure flashed out into the sunshine.
Halfway down the path she paused
TO pluck a great cluster of crimson
roses; then she came slowly on. Her
head wa sa little bent. as she thrust &
the flowers in her bosom and belt. She
was still singing light-heartedly, as
any thrush in the elm tree:
tOfi, my Nora Crena, dear!
My gentle. bashful Nora Creina!
Beauty les"
The song broke off with a sweet,
startled laugh, as she caught sight of
figure before her. Her half-fastened
flowers fell unheeded at her feet The
young fellow towering above her, eagef
and handsome. and splendidly
strengthful, did not notice them either.
He was looking down on the face be-
fore him. ,And what witching win
some faceht was! Delicately chiseled
as though cut from cameo, with a
faint, soft rose-bloom tinging either
cheek; with its great purple-blue eyes,
dark-fringed and shining, with its
short, proud, smiling, scarlet lips. Ten
drills of bronze-gold hair clustered
round the broad, white brow; the rest
was brushed away and hung in bur-
nished braids below her slim. girls
waist.
'Ah, my Nora Creina, dear!" Give
Darlington echoed softly, queer,
warm look in his dark eyes-a queer,
moved tone in his strong voice. MY
gentle, bashful Nora Creina!"
She heard the faint emphasis on the
pronoun. and the rose in her cheek
deepened to rich carnation She
lifted iIer iIead quickly, with an air
that was in reality a gesture OF self
defiance.
"Well, where did you spring from"
In gay questioning. 'Do your friends
traduce you? Capt. Hanley told me
you never rose before eight, and here
you are, more than mile from the
barracks, and 1t is not yet seven"
And even as she spoke, she realized
how well he looked. standing erect and
bareheaded in the pure gold of the
early sunshine. He gave one the idea
of such muscular power, such royal
strength.
But his comrades knew that In the
messroom the most rollicking spirits
the most ringing laughter, were those
OF Give Darlington.
And his enemies felt, I'm hour of dan.
ger or at knowledge of dishonor, there
was no man In the regiment so terror.
inspiring, so wrathful, so uuerringly
swiA to dare and do,
But Just row that face, which could
break to 0oyish smiles or kindie to
honest rage, was as gentle sa WON
ans.
II was very tender and reverent. II
was also strangely troubled and per.
picked. High in the branches of a
tree above him bird was chattering
fits mathis. Something In the pleasant
girlisn voice had struck him with an
odd sense Of pain.
How blithe it Was! And then he
told himself. in swift reproach, that
she did not know--she did not know!
When she did. would she care? He
answered her never a word.
His grave, poetic face was full Of
grieved embarrassment.
Miss LAUREL"
He was still standing restlessly by
The gate and was twirling his stfff mil
siary cap round and round in his white
shapely fingers.
mr. Carringtonl"
"The regiment leaves today"
$50 have heard"
$50 you have heard?"
She nodded. looking up at him with
omiling lips and softly brilliant eyes.