New-York tribune., 1903-07-23


like Damon over some ancient PythIas he FUND
lying Frustrated by the wind. There neal
religious fervOr IN the man: he might have beck
a Druid at his worship. save tor the keen pro-
prietary interest that intensified his happiness.
He kept Bradford busy with his unconscious
demands for exclamation: and Bradford
claimed with such fneness and propriety OF feel
ing that the pickle maker heard him affection
ateIy
Dinner was served in the largest room of the
house, a room whose wide south windows looked
upon the lawn and the river running below.
Murdoch supplied the talk In a pause OF il
Bradford let his eyes wander idly toward the
stream 1t flowed dark against the green: as he
saw it he reminded suddenly of the river
he had visioned in the church, the river which
sprang out of nothing and divided him from
Amy. But a small figure appeared upon the
bank before which symbolism fed 1t was Low
toms youngest grandchiId, dressed in strapped
blue overalIs. laboriously picking daisies. He
somehow made Bradford aware that the
full upon the slope. and the air quiet and
warm. and the surroundings not Of sort TO
encourage aIlegory. Much OF the day, Bradford
reflected had been quite wasted. for he had
got hardly a glimpse Of Amy since breakfast
time. He stole glance at her small head. with
the dark brown hair drawn to some sort OF pict-
uresque knot upon it. He drew long breath
with the ecstasy of his delight in the simple line
Of her cheek and throat. outlined against the
window. Then, she turned her eyes toward
him. he let his wander quickly toward the river
again. The sun was as full and warm, and
pleasant and sleepy. as before; but Bradford's
chair clattered on the floor as he sprang up and
rushed to the door.
What is it?" the other two cried together
The kids in the riverI' shouted Bradford In
az n
with time for anything but the comforting
realization that he had acted rapidly. He
reached the spot. Ten yards down the stream
the baby's face white on the water. The
swift sullenness Of the current might have
easily daunted him, but it did not. He ran along
the bank, dived in, and had the child in his
grasp before he realized the power Of the water.
1t was fed by the SHOWS, and its chill was in
slant that he cried out. 1t caught at his heart
and cramped his muscles He felt 1t binding his
chest as rigid as an iron bar and when he
tried to take a stroke his legs powerIess
and dsobedient. He half released the child,
vainly feeling for the bottom; then his fingers
frightened again BY God. with her looking on.
he would die game! They were setting out into
the middle now; he could not tell whether he
had been in that frightful cold ten seconds or
ten minutes. but he felt that his chances were
going with his strength. and wondered how soon
he should begin to choke, and know that the
end was coming Then-they were at the lower
bridge and Murdoch. leaning away down.
clutched him and held on. Bradford passed over
the boy whom Murdoch lifted with his free
hand. The next instant they were both safely
on the bridge The dripping baby burst into
monstrous wall.
'T-want-rny-Fowers." he said. Surely
enough. the daisies were careering down the
stream.
Well. 1t was a lucky thing for that kid you
saw him go in" cried Murdoch heartily. He
might have been drowned. like >as not Pity
you've spoiled your clothes. though"
I've got another suit at the house" answered
Bradford. blushing shamefacedly, as he esti-
mated the distance from the bridge to the spot
where the child had fallen IN. It was perhaps
forty yards. The size Of the river seemed to
diminish as he stared at 1t.
When Bradford came downstairs again he had
recovered his equaninity. The pickle maker had
disappeared somewhere. Amy sitting
the piazza, gazing at the river where it rippled
in the sun. He stood in the doorway and
watched her. She was wearing gray again On.
color Of the silver shining moss. Of hills at sun
down. and Of Amy's eyes. Her breast rose and
fell The curling tendrils Of her hair clung
dark against her necks whiteness. The round
ness Of her figure was as delicately imperious
as the challenge Of the spring. She was a girl
wOman-'the sweetest thing God ever made"
When boy loves woman. to him is given
to see in her only what he wishes there Slowly
the man learns that what is written is written.
Bradford stared az her long: he observed the
steady. firm line Of the chin, the little deter
mined. downward droop Of the mouth. the clear.
high arching of the eyebrows. and all those
signs which had whispered so truly to the rec
for ctr
pered only, We are SWEET Had he heard
their other message-weu what then? Nothing
then He was in love- and it would have whis-
tied down the wind.
He stepped forward. Thinking. Miss Power?''
She sprang up, her face alght. and all the
delicate hardness gone. "Oh. Mr.. Bradford, It
brave Of your
TT was really nothing at all Your uncle did
most Of It"
My uncle, He Wouli have been TOO late"
"At least you can guess that I like to hear
You say so"
ANY would say So Mr. Bradford. You
thought just what to do. II you had not-thiuk
what might have happened
He sat down by her in silence thinking Of his
thoughts in that moment when he had exagger-
atedly given himself Gp for lost. He said moth
ing of these to her; but in moment he asked.
''WiH you come for a walk?'
Yes she said.
Il know a beautiful place-we saw It this
morning. You ought to know it. too. should
think; at least your uncle called it Amy's
Bower. Shall we go there?'
Yes she said She did not quite know what
she saying OF doing feeling. A sense
had come over her with a great sweep. an emo
ton like the rush Of the river, bearing her on
and on and on She did not wish to resist She
gave herself up to It. as confidently, as happily.