Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1905-11-28

level, and would be "all the same as if
he had not been"
But Mr.. LansdelI did not leave Mord-
red just yet. Only a week after the new
er-to-be-forgotten day at the Priory, he
came again to Thurston's Crag, and
found Isabel sitting under the oak with
her books in her lap. She started up
as he approached her, looking rather
frightened and with her face flushed and
her eyelids dropping. She had not ex-
pected him.
He did not make the slightest allusion
to that unfortunate swoon which had
spoiled the climax of his story. The one
subject, which of all others would have
been most embarrassing to the Doctors
wife, was scrupulously avoided by Mr..
Lansdell. He talked of all manner of
things to this ignorant girl, of books
and pictures, and foreign cities, and
wonderful people, living and dead, of
whom she had never heard before.
Out of pure philanthropy Roland Of
fered to lend her any of the books in
his library.
EYES," he said, you must ask me for
whatever books you would like to read;
and by-and-by, when 1 have left Nor
dred-"
He paused for moment involuntarily,
for he saw that Isabel gave a little
SILVER.
when 1 leave Mordred at the end of
October, you must go to the Priory, and
choose the books for yourself. My
housekeeper is very good woman, and
she will be pleased to wait upon you"
Mr.. Lansdell met the doctors wife
beside the water mill, sometimes in the
meadow-land, which surged in emerald
pillows all about Graybridge, and Nor
dred and Warncliffe. He met her very
often. 1t was no new thing for Isabel
to ramble here and there in that lovely
rustic paradise; but it was quite new
thing for Mr.. Lansdell to take such a
fancy for pedestrian exercise.
Upon the eve of that morning, which
was to set all breech-loading rifles pop
ping at innocent red-breasted victims,
George Gilbert received a letter from his
old friend and comrade, Mr.. Sigismund
Smith who wrote in very high spirits
and with a great many blots:
I'm coming down to stop a few days
with you, dear old boy" he wrote, "to
get the city smoke blown out of my
hyacinthines, and to go abroad in the
meadows to see the young lambs-are
there any young lambs in September, ny
the bye? l want to see what sort of a
matron you have made of Miss Isabel
Sleaford. Do you remember THAI day in
the garden when you first saw her?'
Mr.. Smith arrived at Warnclitfe early
next morning. He was in very high
itc toll aH inn
who had stayed at home to receive him
when there was just faint chance that
Mr.. Lansdell might take his morning
walk in the direction of Thurston's Crag.
Mrs. Gilbert gave her old friend n
very cordial WELCOME. She was fond
Of him, as she might have been of some
big brother; less objectionable than the
ordinary run of big brothers. He had
never seen Mr.. Sleaford's daughter look
ing so bright and beautiful A new eIe-
ment had been introduced into her life
She was happy, unutterably happy. on
the mystical threshold of a new exist
ence. Not for all the ruby-velvet gowns
and diamond cOronets in the world would
she have sacrificed one accidental half
hour on the bridge under Thurston's oak.
She could talk to Sigismund about
Mordred and the master of Mordrpd.
He was not like George, and he would
sympathize with her enthusiasm about
that earthly paradise.
''Do you know Mordred?" she asked.
She felt a kind of pleasure in calling
the mansion 'Mordred," all short. as he
called it.
Il know the village of Mordred we'll
enough" Mr.. Smith answered. "and I
ought to know the .'riory precious well.
The last Mr.. Lansdell was a client
Of nay fathers and when Roland Lans-
cell was being coached up in the Class
les by a private tutor, used to go up to
the Priory and read with him. The gov
ernor was very glad to get such a chance
for me; but l can't say l intensely APP
preciated the advantage myself, on sum-
mer afternoons, when there was ball
playing at Warncliffe meads."
You knew hun-you knew Mr.. Ro-
land Lansdell when he was a boyv said
Isabel, with a little gasp.
II certainly did, my dear lizzie; but
l don't think there's anything wonder
full in that. You couldn't open your
eyes much wider if l said I'd known
Eugene Aram when he was a boy.
remember Roland Lansdell," continued
Mr.. Smith, land a very jolly young fell
low he was, a regular young swell. He
taught me fencing. Come, Mrs. Gilbert.
put on your bonnet and come out for a
walk l suppose there's no chance of
our seeing George till dinner time"
'Thurston's Crag is pretty place;
shall we go therep
dtGnnnnSa xUa do That's ouifa hr;I
liant thought of yours, lizzie. Thurston's
Crag is a pretty place, nice, drowsy,
lazy old place, where one always goes
to sleep"
Isabel's face was all lighted up with
smiles.
81 am so glad you have come to see US,
Sigismund," she said.
She was very glad. She might go to
Thurston's Crag now as often as she
could beguile Sigismund thitherward,
and that haunting sense of something
wrong would no longer perplex her in the
midst of her unutterable joy.
Sigismund handed her across the stile
in the last meadow, and then there was
only a little bit of smooth verdure be-
tween them and the waterfall; but the
overhanging branches of the trees inter
vened. and Isabel could not see yet
whether there was any one on the bridge.
But presently the narrow winding path
brought them to a break in the foliage
Isabers heart gave tremendous bound
and then the color, which had come and
gone so often on her face, faded away
altogether, He was there; leaning with
his back against the big knotted trunk of
the oak, and making a picture of himself,
with one arm above his head. plucking
the oak leaves and dropping them into
the water. He looked down at the glanc
ing water and the hurrying leaves with
a moody, dissatisfied scowl Had he been
anything less than a hero, one might
have thought that he looked sulky.
Mr.. Lansdell must have been ouite
ardently attached to Sigismund in those
early days, if one might Judge of the
past By the present; for he greeted his
old acquaintance with absolute effusion.