The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1905-10-19

her feet was the familiar little pleasure
boat She had not allowed any one to
row her about in it since her return. in
spite of much entreaty. 1t was this
very cloak she wore that day. nearly
the very hour. The place was redolent
with sweet memories of happy days,
though to think of them now broke her
heart.
| IL all came back to her as it had
come again and again. She briefly re-
viewed that acquaintance, short though
1t was, which had changed the whole
course of her life. She saw him again
as he struck prompt to defend her
honor in the hall, resenting a ruffian's
so1ling hand stretched out to her. She
saw him lying wounded and senseless
there at her feet. She saw him stretch
ed prone on that shattered deck on that
ruined ship, pale, blood stained, sense
less again, again unheeding her bitter
cry. She would have called once more
upon him save that she knew humanity
mas no voice which reaches out into the
darkness by which it may call back
those who are once gone to live beyond.
She did not weep; that were small
thing, trifle. She sat and brooded.
-Four short months had changed it
all. How young she had been! Would
she ever be young again? How full of
the JOY of life! Its currents swept by
her unheeded now. Why had not God
| been merciful to her that she could
| have died there upon the sea? she
thought All, poor humanity never
learns his mercy! Perhaps it is be-
cause we have no measure by which to
fathom its mighty depths. She saw
herself old and lonely, forgotten, but
not forgetting. But even then lacked
she not opportunity. Womanlike, in
spite of her constancy, she took mel
ancholy pleasure in the thought that
| there was one still who hungered for
| the shattered remnants Of her broken
heart, who lived for the sound of her
| voice and the glance of her eyes and
| the light of her face One there was,
| handsome, brave, distinguished, gentle,
Of ancient name, assured station, am
pie fortune, who longed to lay all he
was or had at her feet.
But what We're these things? Moth
ing to her-nothing! There was but
one. AS she had said on the ship to
Desborough: II love sailor. You are
not he." And yet her soul was filled
with pity for the gallant gentleman,
| and she thought Of him tenderly, with
deep affection. 80
Presently she heard quick footsteps
| on the floor of the boathouse, and, turn
ing her head, she saw him. He held
letter, an official packet, with the seal
broken, open in his hand.
"Oh, Miss Wilton, you here?" he said.
II have looked everywhere for you.
Do you not think the evening air grows
chill? Is it not too cold for you out
here in the boathouse? Allow me-"
And then, with that gentle solicitude
| which women prize, he lifted the neg
lected cloak and tenderly wrapped it
about her shoulders
"Thank you," she said gratefully,
family smiling up at him, ''but hardly
| need it. do not feel at all cold. The air
is so pleasant, and the sun is not yet
set, you see. Did you wish to see me
| about anything special, Lord Desbor
ough?'' .s. .-'- '--' 49,
"No-yes-that is Oh, Mistress
Katharine, the one special want Of my
life is to see you always and every
where. You know that. Nay, never
lift your hand. I remember. will
try not to trespass upon your orders
again. came to tell you that-I am
going away"
"Going away" she repeated sadly.
"Has your exchange been made?'
eyes; a courier came to the Hall a
short time ago, and here it is. Ny Or
ders, you see. must leave at once"
II am sorry-indeed sorry-that you
must 60"
He started suddenly as If to speak, a
little flash of hope Pickering in his de-
spondent face, but she continued quick
ly:
ut has been very pleasant for US to
have you here, except that you have
been prisoner. But now you will be
free, and for that, Of course, I rejoice.
But have so few friends left" she
went on mournfully, II am loath to see
one depart, even though he be an en-
envy"
'Oh, do Tot call me an enemy, en-
treat you, Katharine! Oh, let me speak
just once again. he interrupted with
his usual impetuosity, "and talk not to
me of freedom! While the earth holds
you am not free; aye even should
heaven claim you I still am bound.
All the days of my captivity here
have been most willing and happy
prisoner prisoner. have looked
| forward with dread and anguish to the
| day when / might be exchanged and
have to go away. Here would l have
been content to pass my life, by your
side. Oh, once again let me plead! My
duty, my honor. call me now to the
! service Of my king. no longer have
/ ovar1co for 6nlou H,,% uor1 houo oil,