The Brandon news. (Brandon, Miss.) 1892-1961, 1911-05-04
CHAPTER xxVlI.-continued.

And when the endless meal was
over, and yards of white wells had
been tied over pounds of hair-or is
1t, too, bought by the yard?-and
some eight ensembles with their abb
ject compliments had been packed
into three automobiles and a trap, u
drew a long breath and faced about.
/ had just then only one object in life
to find Alison, to assure her of my
absolute faith and confidence in her,
and to offer my help and my poor
self, II she would let me, in her
service
She was not easy to find. searched
the lower floor, the veranda and the
grounds, circumspectly. Then l ran
into a little English girl who turned
out to be her maid, and who also was
searching. She was concerned be-
cause her mistress had no dinner, and
because the tray of food she carried
would soon be cold. / took the tray
from her, on the glimpse of something
white on the shore, and that was how
l met the girl again.
She was sitting on an overturned
boat, her chin in her hands, staring
out to sea. The soft tide of the bay
Tapped almost at her feet. and the
draperies of her white gown melted
hazily into the sands. She looked like
a wrath, a Respondent phantom or
the sea. although the adjective Is re-
dundant. Nobody ever thinks OF
f,,I no. CfronOnlU enough.
considering her evident sadness, she
was whistling softly to herself, over
and over, some dreary little minor air
that sounded like a Bohemian dirge.
She glanced up quickly when l made
a misstep and my dishes jingled. All
considered, the tray was out OF the
picture; the sea, the misty starlight,
the girl, with her beauty-even the
sad little whistle that stopped now
and then to go bravely on again, as
though it fought against the odds of
a trembling lip. And then | came,
accompanied by tray of little silver
dishes that jingled and an unmistak-
able odor of broiled chicken!
"Oh!" she said quickly; and then,
"Oh! / thought you were Jenkins"
"Timeo Donaos-what's the rest OF
It?" / asked, rendering my offering.
"You didn't have any dinner, you
know" 1 sat down beside her. "See,
I'll be the table. What was the old
fairy tale? Little goat bleat; little
table appearl' I'm perfectly willing
to be the goat, too"
She was laughing rather tremu-
iously.
1--WE never do meet like other peo-
pie, do WEI" she asked eve really
are you
81 don't want to meet you like other
people, and I suppose you always
think of me as wearing the other fell
lows clothes" I returned meekly.
"Tm doing it again; / don't seem to
be able to help it. These are Grang-
er's that I have on now"
She threw back her head and
laughed again, joyously, this time.
"Oh, it's so ridiculous she said,
"and you have never seen me when |
was not eating! It's too prosaic!"
(Which reminds me that the chick
en- is getting cold, and the ice warm"
I suggested. "At the time, / thought
there could be no place better than
the farmhouse kitchen-but, this is.
ordered all this for something /
want to say to you-the sea, the
sand, the stars
"How alliterative you are!" she
said, trying to be flippant. "You are
not to say anything until have had
my supper Look how the things are
spilled around!"
But she ate nothing. after all, and
pretty soon / put the tray down in
the sand. said little; there was no
hurry. We were together, and time
meant nothing against that age-fong
wash of the sea. The air blew her
hair in small damp curls against her
face, and little by little the tide re-
treated, leaving our boat an oasis in
a waste of gray sand.
eff seven maids with seven mops
swept 1t for half year
Do you suppose, the waIrus said, that
they could get it clear7"
she threw at me once when she
must have known / was going to
spesk bald her hand. and as long