The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1906-07-26

that the world was very good and she
was happy. Then she lifted her skirts
little higher and sped into the heart
of the rose garden.
Paola was sitting on the bench by
the Black Prince--Miss Sarah saw that
at once--and ebeside her was young
| Lockwood, as Miss Sarah had also
foreseen, and Paola's head was thrown
back, and one of Paola's slim white
arms lay like simmer Of moonlight
along the back of the bench. positive
ly inviting rheumatism murmured
Miss Sarah miserably.
She was within few feet of them
and a call trembled on her lips, when
Paolas own voice stopped her.
"Go on" said Paola in a soft, hurried
| whisper, and Miss Sarah by some queer
| instinct drew back into the shade of
| the great oak behind the bench, fearful
| lest an incautiOuS movement would be-
tray her, fearful almost of her own
breathing, for Miss Sarah was learned
in the ways Of Paolas suitors and it
was one Of her best learned lessons
never to interrupt them. SO she drew
| back and waited, innocent of any de-
| sire to eaveSdrOp.
500 on" said Paola again, and young
Lockwood's voice came out of the deep
er shadow, low and vibrant and rhyth
mic Miss Sarah leaned closer instinc-
lively to hear the words; they escaped
her at first, then echoed clearer:
Remember how when first we met we
stood,
Stung with immortal recollections,
o fact, immured beside a fiery sea
That leaned down at dead midnight to be
| kissed!
o beauty folded up in forests old,
Thou vast the lovely quest of Arthur's
i knights;
Thy armour glimmered in a gloom of
| green.
Did L not sing to thee in Babylon?
Or did we set sail in Carthage bay?
| Were thine eyes strange? Did not know
| thy voice?
All ghostly grew the sun, unreal the air
Then when we kissed
The last word quivered sentient on
the air. and Miss Sarah trembed with
Ia strange fear of it. Her fingers found
the rough bark Of the tree and chung;
she waited hungered, for the rest, but
young LOckwood'S voice broke from
the beat of verse into uneven words:
'Paola, my beautiful, it is our story"
cit is the story OF PaoIa and Fran
cesca," said the girl dreamily.
"Paola and Francesca = Paola and
Francis-what does it matter? Were
thine eyes strange? Did | not know
thy voiceT''
Miss Sarah, dizzied and enwrapt by
she knew not what roseate mist, saw
the white grace of PaoTa waver and
lean to the shadow and heard a few
moments of magical silence, the whis-
per, tender, exultant:
"And in the book they read no more that
day"
Miss Sarah felt her way back to the
path with unnecessary care. If her
| light footsteps had been the crash of
/ brasses they would not have reached
the two by the Black Prince, but Miss
Sarah did not know it. She hurried
along between the roses, catching her
breath in little gasps as she went, and
!
around her, stinging her to wild, indefi-
mite regret She passed through the
moonlight and up the steps, through
the open window, and caught up her
neglected knitting with a pathetic de-
sire for things tangible and common
place. She opened the volume of Fe
licia Hemans at the purple bookmark.
| h,,+ of limo
81 never knew what it was liker' she
said pitifully to herself. 81 wish I had
known" The magic of the moonlit gar
den swept over her again, and the mu-
sic of the lovers verse murmured in
her ears Miss Sarah trembled with
vague, unhappy longing for the things
that she had never knOwn-the things
that were the Inheritance Of Paola, her
sister, yet had never been hers.
Beyond the window the garden lay
vast and wonderful beneath the moon,
, to her a land where life ran in strange
currents between banks of enchanted
blossoms
Suddenly and without warning tear
slipped down Miss Sarah's cheek and
} splashed upon the purple bookmark
Another followed it and yet another;
then Miss Sarah drew herself together
and shut between the leaves of Felicia
Hemans poems her one be1ated vision
Of romance And in the book they
) read no more that day." she said to
herself, with a sad little sigh. Then
she took up her knitting again to wait