Northern Wisconsin advertiser. [volume] (Wabeno, Wis.) 1898-1925, 1904-02-04

tired young man, quiet, unobtrusive
guest, reserved and no trouble. only
Mr.. Mainway-a lawyer, spending a
few weeks, and not very sociable."
In the cool of a ledge he stretched
his long legs and lit his pipe.
"Corinne,' he said, loud. Cor
inne!"
1t was all very queer about it.
Could that first day have been two
weeks ago? A Sunday-yes-nea
fortnight. Idly rambling through
the pastures, he had encountered her
sitting upon an old stone wall bare
headed, with the sunset on her face,
soft and cheerful light.
| 1t seemed to him that the radiance
with which he first saw her clothed
had fingered on her delicate features
in rosy illumination until today, when
she turned so white Had his com
ing dissipated it forever? She loved
him. r.,
Who spoke first and why? He
could not recollect. They had talked
little. She was of his kind. Strange
to run across a refined, city-bred
girl in this lonely hamlet. Strange,
too, that they should have spoken.
: Stranger yet, his finding her there
the next afternoon. Her favorite
seat, she had said She loved it,
There was shade of tiny trees be
hind with lOw-lying branches shelf
ering like an arbor Choke berries
! with red acrid fruit. He had eaten
one at her bidding and she had
! laughed. Was that on Monday or
! Tuesday?
J The man groaned. His picture on
the old stone WALL To his grave it
would ever go before him He had
gone every day, and every day ex-
cept that of the storm she was there,
smiling welcome. No one knew.
1t was after tea in the sunset, at
first then at four o'clock; lately. |
mornings. Yes, he might call her
Corinne.
Little strolg-little talks-and the |
days ran blindly by until he sud,
denly knew, and that very morning
by the stile under the oak tree the |
words had been softly uttered, with |
all his heart behind them. And 10.
The end. Was he quite righL in his |
mind? All! he would live it all over |
again. That was left for his comfort. !
'at least. Into his life and out Cor |
inne, with her eyes and hair, her flow
er checks and grace.
What was he lying here for? Oh! |
yes-to think it over A second of |
ecstasy after the shock, then a sort |
of dizziness as he watched her go. |
Where? How should he find her? Her
last name? She had never told him. |
What house? He did not know. They !
had always parted by the stile.
Mainway plucked at a fern and !
crushed it against his mouth. It was
like her-wiry and delicate. His head |
nestled back on a cushion of moss
the head that ached so queerly. That |
was her lap-yes-and the fern her |
hand. What mattered if he could |
never find her. Was she not here?
Corlnne, with her eyes and hair /
her lap and soothing hand. Over and
over-again. The silent song spar.
rows among the encircling bushes
looked wise and hoped nearer.
How he had slept, The sun was
getting low. What happened? Yes
'-yes-yes! Now he would go right
home, but first. one last look. She
would not be there, but he must bid
the seat goodby. Stumbling. the man
went down the mountain
Cornne lifted her head. 81 knew
YOU would COME" she whispered.
1T is dreadful but | am so happy
now See. can you read it, Law
rence?"
Dead" said Mainway, thickly.
Who was he?" peering at the letter.
You are Just the same, Corinne.
You called me Lawrence. nave :,
oeen asleep on the mountain. Did
was the morning only dream? You
could not be happy, you know"
Read it," sobbed the girl. II
promised my dying father that
would marry him. couldn't. He
was-but he's gone now-kiled in
his cups. Oh, come to me-"
The dying roses of the west were
ON her cheeks as she leaned with
pleading arms from the beloved
perch, feeding on the new thankful
light in her lovers eyes.
He dropped the paper and stepped
forward. Then his breast smut out
the sunset.
THE ISLANDS Or MAINE.