Lewiston evening teller. [volume] (Lewiston, Idaho) 1903-1911, 1903-11-09
The Girl Of the Orchard
BY HOWARD FIELDING
c
~ HOW ARD FIELDIN

pened on Mrs. W1therspoon's lake. 1t
may have been four or five days later
than the incidents described in the last
chapter, and meanwhile l had been
making a most egregious donkey of
myself from purely altruistic motives.
l had devoted myself to Miss Jones.
taking her away from Trask whenever
I could-and, singularly enough, that
did not seem to be very difficult. Such
small articles as | am master of FIRE
uuently sufticed to divide the sketching
party under the north tree into two
groups, thus giving me an opportunity
to talk with but one listener-some-
times without any at all, | dare say,
looking back upon it now.
My amiable intention was to give
TraSk chance to learn the truth of his
own heart. l had changed my mind
about telling him to go away, and had
decided that he was really in love with
Miss Witherspoon and didn't know it.
That she loved him was beyond ques-
ton, and it seemed no more than fair
that she should be seen for herself and
not hidden in the light of another girls
beauty.
have mentioned the report that Miss
Jones was an heiress, a rumor which,
in the singular conditions prevailing, l
was not able to verify. She certainly
had the way of one accustomed to
everything that money can buy. But
l never really charged Trask with mer-
cenary motives. believed that he was
! dazZled, that he was under the spell of
physical allurement, which, am will
] ing to confess, was strong enough some
| times to make me tremble. For the
! girl was beautiful beyond belief, and
that's the truth about it.
| The experienced reader will say at
once that l was doing the worst thing
| possible, and to this opinion l can add
that nothing else need be expected of
me. In matters of romance l am the
complete and perfect blunderhead. Poor
! little Lucy Ann. That l should wish
! her well and plot in her behalf was
| enough of itself alone to lose the game.
This had been going on for the best
part of a week, as have said, and was
!
whether it was my heart or Trask's
| that was the subject of the experiment,
when fate removed the bandage from
my eyes for small part of a second.
We were walking in the edge of the
north grove-we four-and this time it
was Lucy AIMS society with which
was. favored. l am of the opinion that
Trask and Miss Jones, who were
ahead, thought that we had stopped to
pick some roses. We hadn't, and the
| result was that we came upon them
unexpectedly as they stood under a
gnarled tree with a great black trunk
that looked as broad as barn door.
can see them now outlined against
that singular background, the girl
aglow, self luminous with her beauty
Trask in white hannels and looking
remarkably handsome. He had prob
ably picked up her handkerchief and
in returning it had raised her hand to
his lips. Then she had added another
hand, clasping his, and had met his
eyes as he looked up. The picture was
a perfect revolutionary sweet, yet
sad, as if the two had been parting
forever.
1t was all in a flash, and they were
in conventional attitudes again, turn
ing to greet us and startled by the
swapping of a twig under my foot.
Lucy Ann was a very little behind me.
shot quick glance at her, and she
seemed not to have seen. Surely if she
had she was a thoroughbred. l gave
no hint to her, nor she to me, unless
perhaps there was less color in her
cheeks.
In the evening of this day occurred
the incident of the lake. The fire was
burning upon the rocks for the third
time. Once since the first interchange
of songs | had found the beacon at1ame
and had thrilled to that wonderful
voice again, responding humbly with
my own for want of a better. | think
the experience had helped to preserve
me from Miss Jones. Upon. this third
occasion 1t was consolation and a
cheering view of life that | required
for | was bearing some of Lucy AIMS
burden, and Il was enough to sink the
boat Why did my father pass to me
this spark of sympathy as the Greek
racers handed on the torch? He car
ries it easily, and it lights his way. but
it merely burns my fingers.
When | drew softly up along. the
path of the fire, the girl was standing