The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1906-06-07
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SZS.AS OF races Oh the l:lnulnS DelOW. |
She Wore q skirt and coat of brown
cloth, and Ter Veil was raised in a !
white film above her small hat.
I'm the crowd clustering about her |
eager for the last glimpse of friends
she looked shy and nervous, and her
brown eyes We're dilated in alarm De-
spite her thirty years there was some
thing girlish in her shrinking tigure-a
suggestion of the incipient emotions of
youth The fine lines that time had set
upon brow and lips We're results of the
flight of unditferentiated days and
lacked the intensity of experimental
records. One might have classified her
in superficial survey as a woman in
whom temperamental fires had been
smothered rather than eXtinguished by
the ashes of unfulfillment. To exist
ence, which is a series of rhythmic
waves of the commonplace, she offer
ed facial serenity; to life, which is
clash of opposing passions, she turned
the wistful eyes of ignorance.
A tall girl, carrying an armful Of
crimson roses, pressed against her and
to some one upon the landing. On the
other side a man was shouting direc-
tions in regard to missing piece of
baggage. II marked it myself" he de-
clared frantically. ut was to have
been shipped from New Orleans to the
Cunard dock. l marked it Not want
ed with my own hands, and, by Jove,
those dirty creoles have taken me at
my word"
She rested her hand upon the railing
and leaned far over. Down below
pretty girl in a pink shirt waist was
kissing her gloved finger tips to a
stout gentleman ON deck. An excited
group We're waving congratulations to
bride and groom, who looked ia
tigued and slightly bored.
For the first time she recognized in
this furtive shrinking a faint home
sickness, and her thoughts recoiled to
the dull southern home, to the sisters
in-law who made her life burdensome
and to the little graveyard where the
husband she had never loved lay
buried. The girl with the crimson
roses jostled her rudely and from be-
hind some one was treading upon her
gown. The insipid heat of the July
sun flashed across her face, and in
vision she recalled the sweeping pas
lures of the old plantation, with the
creek where the willows grew and the
thrushes sang.
Suddenly the steamer gave tremor
of warning, and volley of farewells
assembled from below.
pleasant voyage" called the man
to the girl beside her. pleasant voy-
agev called some one to the lady on
her right Then she realized that she
was alone, and for the first time regret
ted that her father-in-law had not
come. When the news of his delay
had first reached her and she had vol
unteered to start alone, she had ex
perienced a vivid elation. There was
delight in the idea of freedom, of being
accountable to no one, of being abso-
lutely independent of advice. Now she
wished that she had an acquaintance
who would wish her godspeed or shout
an indistinct pleasantly from the
crowded landing.
The steamer moved slowly out into
the harbor, and the shore was white
with futtering goodbys. Then the
distance lapsed into gradual waves of
blue.
She left the railing and stumbled
over a group of steamer chairs placed
midway of the deck. She descended to
her stateroom, which was in the center
of the ship. At the door she found the
stewardess, who inquired if she was
Mrs L. Smith,"
THAT is my name, and am going
to be i'll. know it,
bag? l thought it would give you
more space if l put it in the gentle
mans room. He hasn't much lug
gage"
Lucy Smith looked up in mystifica-
ton. "But it is mine," she explained.
land want it,"
Then the boat gave lurch, and she
undressed and climbed into her berth.
The next day, after sleepless night.
she struggled up and left her state
room, the stewardess following with
her wraps. At the foot of the stairs
she swayed and fell upon the lowest
step. Its no use," she said plaintive-
ly. II can't go up-I can't, indeed"
The stewardess spoke with profess
sional encouragement. ooh, you're all
right" she demonstrated. Here's the
gentleman now. He'll help YOU"
"Isn't there but one gentleman on
board?" Mrs. Smith began, but her
words failed.
Some one lifted her, and in a moment
nhe was on deck and in her chair, while
the stewardess wrapped her rugs about
her and strange man arranged the
pillows under her head. Then they
left her, and she lay with closed eyes.
perhaps you would like yesterdays
Herald?" said voice.
She started from an uncertain doze
and looked around her. Hours had
passed, and since closing her eyes the
sea had grown bluer and the sun
warmer. A pearl colored foam was
plistening on the waves. 81 beg YOUR