Morris tribune., 1905-05-06

l
| ers in unregulated alienation, seemed
| symboIical of life-that life of which
/ every tender blade of grass, every ven
| turesome flower thrusting it's head
| above the sod, seemed to speak. There
| were health and strength in the gentle
| breeze which wantonly played with
| the budding leaves of the great trees,
| already putting forth little evangels of
| that splendid foliage with which they
| decked themselves in the full glory of
| summer. That merry wind which
| swept through the open boathouse at
| the end of the wharf laid bold hand
upon the curls which fell about the
neck of the young girl sitting there by
the door near the water on one of the
benches, gazing out over the broad
reaches of the quiet, ever beautiful
Potomac, rippled gently by the wind
under the late afternoon sun. The gal
liant little breeze, fragrant with balm
and perfume of the trees and flowers,
kissed faint color into her pale cheek
and seemed to whisper to her despOnd-
ent heart in murmuring sounds that
words "hope, hope"
The young girl had but yesterday en-
tered upon her twentieth spring. Four
months ago there had not been mer-
rier, lighter hearted, gayer, more CO.
Quettish young maiden in tidewater
Virginia, and today she thought as
she looked down at her thin hand out
I'll orI1r Uixyi or.Si oil
cloak she wore, which had dropped I'M
needed on the seat by her side-today
she was like that man in the play Of
whom her father read-a grave man;
no, not man at all.
Once, in her enthusiasm, she had
fondly imagined that she had possessed
all those daring qualities of energy and
action, those manly virtues which
might have been hers by inheritance
could the accident of sex have been re-
versed. But now she knew she was
but a woman after also weak, so
feeble, so listless What had she left to
live for? Once it was her father, then
1t was her country, then it was her
lover Now? Nothing! Her father, at
the request of congress, would soon re-
sumo his interrupted duties in France,
now become more important than ever.
He was man Of the world and sol
dier, a diplomat.
The hard experiences Of the past few
months were for him episodes, exciting
truly, but only part Of lifetime spent
in large adventure, soon forgotten in
some other strenuous part demanded
by some other strenuous eXigency. But
she! No. she was not man at all, but
a woman, unused to such scenes and
happenings as fate had lately made
her participant in. Her father might
have his country He had not lost his
love; his heart was not buried out in
the depths of the cruel sea. What had
become Of that Roman patriotism upon
which she prided herself in times past?
Her country! What had changed her
SO? There were many answers.
There was Blodgett's grave at the
foot Of the hill She had played in
childhood with that faithful old sol
der. Many tale had he told her OF
her gallant father when, as a young
man, he gayly rode away to the wars,
leaving her lady mother in tears be-
hind. She could sympathize with wait |
ing women now and understand.
There, too, far away in another state, |
lay the lover Of her girlhood's happy |
day-the bright eyed, eager, gallant, |
joyous lad What good comrades they !
had been! How they had laughed and
played and ridden and roWed and |
hunted and danced and firted through |
the morning of life! How pleasant had
been that life indeed! He was quiet |
now. She could no longer join in his |
ringing laugh; the sound Of his voice |
was stilled. They might never play to- |
gether again. Was there any play at /
all in life? That was another answer. |
There was the white haired mother, |
the stately little royalist, Madam Tai
bot, who slept in peace on the hill at |
Fairview Hall, her ambitions, her hopes |
and her loyalty buried with her, leav- |
ing the place untenanted save by wist-
full memories. She, too, had gone.
Answers? They crowded thick upon
ler! There were the officers OF tie
Yarmouth, Captain Vincent, Bean-
champ, Hollins and all the other Of
fcees and men with whom she had
come in contact on that frightful cruise
There were the heroic men who had
stayed by their ship, who had seen the
favored few go away in the only boat
that was left seaworthy, without a
murmur at being left behind, who had
faced death unheeding, unrepining,
sinking down in the dark water with a
cheer upon their lips. There was the
old sailor, too, with his unquenchable
patriotism, her friend because the
friend of her lover; and Philip, her
Brother; and there was Seymour him
self All, what were all the rest to
him! Gone, and how she loved him!
She leaned her head upon her hand
and thought of him. Here in this boat
house he had first spoken to her of his
love; here she had first felt his lips
touch her cheek. There, rocked gently |
by the light breeze IlnOn the water at |