Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1905-11-07
CHAPTER IN.

1t happened that the very day after
Isabers little outbreak of passion was
a peculiar occasion in George Gilbert s
life. 1t was his wife's birthday-the
first birthday after her marriage-and
the young surgeon had planned a grand
treat and surprise-quite an elaborate
festival-in honor of the day. He had
hired a fy-for the whole day, and Mrs,
Jeffson had prepared a basket with all
manner of delicacies; and George had
written to Mr.. Raymond, asking that
gentleman to meet himself and his wife
at Warncliffe, the show place of the
county. This Mr.. Raymond had prom
Used to do, and all the arrangements had
been carefully planned. and had been
kept profoundly secret from Isabel.
She was very much pleased when her
husband told her of the festival early
on that bright summer morning, while
she was plating her long black hair at
the little glass before the open lattice.
Il want it to be like that day last
year, lizzie; the day l asked you to mar
ry me. Mr. Raymond will bring the
key of Hurstonleigh Grove, and we're
to drive there after we've seen the man
sion, and picnic there as we did before,
and then we're to go to the very identi-
cal model old woman's to tea; and every
thing will be exactly the same"
All, Mr.. George Gilbert, do you know
the world so little as to be ignorant that
no day in life ever has it's counterpart,
and that to endeavor to bring about an
exact repetition of any given occasion is
10 attempt the impossible?
CT 6riva fror,, +ba ~
bridge to Warncliffe, the grave old coun-
try town, the dear old town, with shady
pavements and abutting upper stories,
diamond-paned pointed gables, and case
ments; the queer old town, with won
derful churches and gloomy archways,
and steep stony streets, and, above all,
the grand old mansion, dashed forever
and forever by the blue ripping water.
Mr.. Raymond was waiting at the little
doorway when the fly stopped, and he
gave Isabel his arm and led her into a
narrow, winding alley of verdure and
rockwork, and then across a. smooth
lawn and under an arch of solid mason
~ to another lawn, a velvety grass-plat,
surrounded by strawberries, and altogeth-
er a triumph of landscape gardening
They went into the mansion with a lit
tie group of visitors who had just col
lected on the broad steps before the door,
and they were taken at once under the
convoy of a dignifed housekeeper in a
rustling silk gown, who started off into
a catalogue of the contents of the hall.
While the housekeeper was running
herself down like a musical box that
had been newly wound up, Mr.. Ray
mond led Isabel to the window, and
showed her the blue waters of the Way
verne tumbling head foremost over crag-
gy masses of rock work, green bowlder,
and pebbles that shimmered in the sun
light, and then playing hide-and-seek,
under dripping willows, and brawling
away over emerald moss and golden sand
to fall with sudden impetus into the
quiet depths beneath the bridge.
Isabel moved through the room in ST
lent rapture; but yet there was pang
of anguish lurking somewhere or other
amid all that rapture.
Her dreams were all true, then; there
were such places as this, and people
lived in them. Happy people, for whom
life was all loneliness and poetry, look
ed out Of those windows, and lolied in
those antique chairs.
For some people life was like this;
and for her She shuddered as she
remembered the parlors at Graybridge
the shabby carpet, the faded moreen
curtains edged with rusty velvet, the
cracked jars and vases on the mantel-
piece; and even if George had given her
ali that she had asked-the ottoman.
and the Venetian blinds, and the rose
colored curtains-what would have been
the use? her room would never have
looked like this. She gazed about her
in sort of waking dream. intoxicated
by the beauty of the place. She was
looking like this when Mr.. Raymond
led her into one of the larger rooms.
and showed her little picture in a cor
ner, which he said was a gem.
She looked at it in a drowsv kind of
way. 1t was very brown gem. and
its beauties were quite beyond Mrs. Gil
bert's appreciation. She was thinking
if, by some romantic legerdemain. she
could turn out" to be the rightful heir
ess of such q place as this, with a river
like the Wayverne brawling under her
windows, and trailing willow branches
dipping into the water There were
some such childish thoughts as these in
her mind while Mr.. Raymond was en-
larging upon the wonderful finish and
modelling of the Venetian masterpiece:
and she was aroused from her reverie not
by her companions remarks, but by a
woman's voice on the other side of the
room.
''You so rarely see that contrast of
fair hair and black eyes," said the
voice; ''and there is something peculiar
in those eyes"
There was nothing particular in the
words; it was the tone in which Lady
Clara We're de We're might have spoken;
a tone in which there was a lazy hau-
teur softened by womanly gentleness-
{. drawing accent which had yet no af-
fectation, only a kind of liquid carrying
on of the voice, like legato passage in
music.
YES" returned another voice. which
had all the laziness and none of the hau-