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

Katharine would be free again: the7
might go home once more, and Des-
borough would be a prisoner.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
(MY1T was springtime again in
III 1 Virginia. The sky, it's blue
| |6am1oa depths accumulated by the
9exsS) shifting clouds, was never
more clear, wherever it appeared in
the intervals of sunshine, nor the air
more fresh and pure, even in that land
famed for it's bright skies and it's mild
climate, than it was this April day.
Which, with it's sunshine and show
ers in unregulated alienation, seemed
symbolical 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,. The
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 a 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 q faint color into her pale cheek
and seemed to whisper to her despond-
ent heart in murmuring sounds that
framed themselves into the immortal
words 'hope, hope"
The young girl had but yesterday en-
tered upon her twentieth spring. -Four
months ago there had not been a mer-
rler, lighter hearted, gayer, more CO.
quettish young maiden in tidewater
virginia, and today she thought as
she looked down at her thin hand out
lined so clearly upon the vivid cardinal
cloak she wore, which had dropped IN
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 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 a SOL
der, 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 a 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
dier. Many a tale had he told her Of
her gallant father when, as 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
II Fairview Hall. her ambitions, her hopes
and her loyalty buried with her, leav-
ing the place untenanted save by visit
full memories She, too, had gone.
I, Answers? They crowded thick upon