The Bamberg herald. [volume] (Bamberg, S.C.) 1891-1972, 1907-02-07

NJ an
By IZOLA FORESTER
Copyright, 1906, by Ruby Douglas

eWait,' laughed Jolly Allan, prophet
ically wagging his forefnger at the
two figures in the hammock. "Just
YOU girls wait until the inevitable man
shows up and see where your friend
ship will be. Pouf! Bing! Up in
smoke"
"There have been mem began
irene loftily.
'I said the inevitable man." protest
ed Jolly-"the man, the right and only
one. I know there have been; wasn't
I one of them last year? But, honest,
it will do me a world of good to see
the right one come along and have
both Of you girls fall in love with him
your tastes are so similar, you know"
He lodged the cushion that whizzed
from the hammock in his direction
dexterously. "And then see the tumble
in girl loyalty. You won't speak to
each other, and every time the other
one goes by with the inevitable man
the one that's frozen out will say,
Cat"
"Jolly, there is limit, you know,
even 10 your imagination" Dorothy
Arnold rose from the hammock and
stood a moment, her arms upraised as
she fastened in some refractory hair
Plus. They were pretty arms, plump,
tanned and bare to the elbows. So
was their owner pretty-the very pref
tiest girl at Northern Lights except
one. and that one her closest friend,
Irene Nethersby.
It was nearly month since the two
girls had come to the inn at Northern
Lights to.spend their summer vacation.
The Lights was not fashionable
resort, strictly speaking; its guests and
their doings were not chronicled in the
Sunday papers, but to those who knew
and loved it it had beauties far be-
yond Newport or Atlantic City. Perch
ed high on the pine crested bluff over
looking the sea was the inn. Winding
woodland paths led to it from the
shore, and back in the hills were trout
brooks and deep glens. Long before
the inn and it's satellite cottages had
been there the lighthouse had held it's
own upon the rocks of the bluff, and it
was the light from its lamps which
had given the north point of Shelter
island its name, Northern Lights.
It was an odd summer crowd that
filed the inn-students resting, stu
dents studying, people in search OF
peace above all-and yet about these
steady guests, who came year in and
year out, there played perpetually the
transient, merry summer butterflies,
who came and went with the weekly
steamer.
Jolly Allan was a permanent fixture.
As son of the owner Of Northern
Lights at large he occupied a privileged
position. But even with Dorothy's dark
eyes gazing at him. in naughty disap-
proval he did not retract one word.
"Just wait" he said. 3Last year he
didn't come, but he will this time"
Arm in arm the two girls walked
leisurely down one Of the cliff paths
that led to the boat landing. Both
were tall, both slender and golden hair
ed as sisters, but Dorothy's eyes were
dark and grave, and Irene's were blue
as the bluebells that grew in the rock
crannies at her feet. They were cous-
ms and college mates as we'll. Every
year only drew them nearer together
and made their friendship more sure,
and with all their little love affairs
there had never been a shadow Of
rivalry.
Hallway down the blun the path
made a turn, and a rustic bench had
been built there. Kneeling on it, the
girls leaned their elbows on the back
and watched the White Queen steam
smoothly to the dock and disembark
her usual quota Of city deserters.
It was sunset, and the sea lay silent
and rippleless, stained crimson and
purple from the suns rays. Most Of
the passengers were taking the main
road up to the inn Only one figure
came toward them, a figure in gray
flannel, and as he came he whistled.
The girls watched him idly, disinter-
estedly, without moving from their po-
sitioh. Men were common at the
Lights" even men in gray flannels who
whistled. But as he came up the path
and faced them at the turn they real
lied that this man was different. It
wasn't anything special about him-he
was merely. strapping, healthy young
ster, clear eyed, clean shaven, with lips
ready to whistle or smile and brown
hair that waved above his tanned fore
head-but. it was the quick, frankly as
tonished look in his eyes that disarmed
them as he glanced from one face to
the other, look that spoke volumes.
but volumes with q double dedication.
'Is this the right way to the innT' he
asked.
Dorothy did not answer. After that
first look in the strangers eyes she
had looked out at the crimson sea.
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