Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1905-11-14
The Doctors wife
BY MSS N. {. BRADDoN
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II you'll let me waste your time FOR V--re
in a way. Good-by; good morning, Mrs.
Gilbert. By the bye. how do you mean
to finish the day, Raymond"
I'm going TO take Mr.. and Mrs. Gil
bert to Hurstonleigh Grove; or rather
they take me, for they've brought bas-
ket that reminds one of the Derby day.
We're going to picnic in the grove, and
drink tea in a cottage in honor of lisa
bePs-Mrs. Gilberts birthday"
You must come and picnic at Mord-
red some day. It's not as pretty as
Hurstonleigh, but Wen manage to Ind
a rustic spot"
The young man put on his hat, and
went after his cousin and her father.
Isabel saw him walking along the bright
vista of rooms, and disappear in a burst
of sunshine that flooded the great hall
when the door was opened. The Beings
were gone. For a brief interval she
had been breathing the poetry of life;
but she fell back now into the sober
prose, and thought that half the grandeur
was gone with those aristocratic visit
Ors.
and how do yogili like my young kins-
man"' Mr.. Raymehd asked presently.
Isabel looked at him with surprise.
He is your relation. Mr. LansdellT'
Yes. My mother was a Lansdell.
There's a sort OF cousinship between
Roland and me. He's a good fellow, a
very noble-hearted, high-minded young
fellow. but"
But what? Mr.. Raymond broke off
with so deep sigh that Isabel imagined
an entire romance upon the strength of
the inspiration. Had he done anything
wicked, that dark, beautiful creature
who only wanted the soul-harrowing
memory of a crime to make him perfect?
Had he fed his country, like Byron, or
buried a fellow creature in cave. like
Mr. Aram? Isabers eyes opened to
their widest extent, and Charles Ray
mind answered that inquiring glance
Il sigh when | speak of Roland" he
said, 'beca use | know the young man
Is not happy. He stands quite alone in
the world, and has more money than he
knows how to spend-two very bad
things for young man. He's handsome
and scinating-anOther disadvantage
and he's brilliant without being a genius
In short, he's just the sort of man to
dawdle away the brightest years of his
life in the drawing rooms of a lot of
women, and take to writing cynical trash
about better men il his old age. / can
see only one hope of redemption for him.
and that is a happy marriage, a marriage
with a sensible woman, who would get
the whip hand of him before he knew
where he was. All the luckiest and hap
piest men have been henpecked. Depend
upon it. Mrs. Gilbert, the men who lead
nd do
happy deaths, are married men who
mind their wives. I'm bachelor. so of
course 1 speak without prejudice. | do
most heartily wish that Roland Lansdell
may marry a good and sensible woman"
a good and sensible woman"
Isabel gave an involuntary shudder
Surely, of all the creatures upon this
over-populated earth, a sensible woman
was the very last whom Roland Lans-
dell ought to marry. He should marry
some lovely being in perpetual white
muslin, with long, shimmering, golden
hair-the dark men always married fair
women in Isabel's novels-a creature
who would sit at his feet, and watch
with him till dismal hours in the silent
night; and who should be consumptive
and die some evening with flowers upon
her breast, and a smile upon her face.
The picnic seemed quite a tame thing
after these reveres in the carriage. The
orphans met their uncle at the gate,
and they all went across the grass Just
as they had gone before, to the little
low iron gate which Mr.. Raymond was
privileged to open with a special key.
and into the grove, where the wonderful
beeches and oaks make a faint summer
darkness.
Was it the same grove? To Isabel it
looked as if it had been made smaller
since that other picnic; and the water
fall, and the woodland vistas. and the
winding paths, and the arbor where they
were to dine-it was all very well for
the orphans 20 clap their hands, and dart
off at a tangent every now and then to
gather inconvenient wild flowers; but,
after all, there was nothing SO very beau
tiful in Hurstonleigh Grove.
Isabel wandered a little away by her
self while Mr.. Raymond and Georoe
and the orphans unpacked the basket
She was walking slowly along the
woodland pathway when she was star
tied by a rustling of the branches a few
PAGES further on, and looking up, with
a sudden, half-frightened glance, she saw
the tall figure of a man between her and
the sunlight. The man was Mr.. Roland
Lansdell, the author of AN Aliens
Dreams"
I'm afraid l startled you. Mrs. Gil
bert" he said, taking off his hat and
standing bareheaded, with he shadows
of the leaves pickering and trembling
about him like living things Il thought
1 should find NJ. Raymond here, as he
said you were going TO the picnic, and
l want so much to talk to the dear old
boy. So, as they know me at the lodge,
l got them to let me go in"
Isabel tried to say something. She
could not talk to this grand and beau
tiful creature, who possessed in his own
person all the attributes of her favorite
heroes.
She had painful sense of her own de-
fciency; she knew all at once that she
had no power to play the part she had
so often fancied herself performing, to
the admiration of supernumerary behold
ers. But with all this pain ami NORTH
cation there mingled a vague, delicious
happiness. The dream had come true at
last. This was romance-this was life.
What did it ma tier, then, if she was
SutIereu ana uaAeu ana lnIoXlcated by
his presence? What did it signify if the
solid earth became empyrean air under
| this foolish girls footsteps? Mrs. Gil
bert did not even ask herself these ques
tons. She knew nothing. she thought
| nothing, except that a modern Lord BY
ron was walking by her side, and that il
was but a very little way to the arbor.
CHAPTER Y.
Roland Lansdell dined with his uncle
and cousin at Lowlands upon the day
after the picnic, but he said very little
about his afternoon ramble in Hurston-
leigh Grove.
The Lansdells of Mordred were not