The Glenwood post., 1911-03-18
CHAPTER xxvII.-Continued.

CHAPTER HXVlI.-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 alb
tect compliments had been packed
into three automobiles and trap, l
drew a long breath and faced about.
l 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, If she would let me, in her
service.
She was not easy to find. l searched
the lower floor, the veranda and the
grounds, circumspectly. Then l ran
into 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 l took the tray
from her, on the glimpse of something
white on the shore, and that was how
! 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
q wrath, Respondent phantom of
the sea, although the adjective is re-
dundant. Nobody ever thinks of
cheerful phantom. Strangely 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
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 l came.
accompanied by tray of little silver
dishes that jingled and an unmistak-
able odor of broiled chicken!
Obi" she said quickly; and then,
"Ohi l thought you were Jenkins
"Timeo Donaos-what's the rest Of
it?" | asked, rendering my offering.
You didn't have any dinner, you
know" l sat down beside her. See.
I'll be the table. What was the old
fairy tale? Little goat bleat; little
table appear!' I'm perfectly willing
to be the goat, too"
She was laughing rather tremu-
lousy.
I'VE never do meet like other peo-
pie, do we?" she asked I'VE really
ought to shake hands and say how
are you"
"I don't want to meet you like other
people, and l suppose you always
think Of me as wearing the other fell
lows Clothes" I returned meekly.
I'm doing it again; l don't seem to
be able to help it. These are Grang-
sr's that l have on now"
She threw back her head and
laughed again, joyously, this time.
"Oh, it's so ridiculous" she said,
land 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"
suggested. "At the time, 1 thought
there could be no place better than
the farm house ktchen-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 fippant. "You are
not to say anything until l have had
nv supper. Look how the things are
spilled around!"
But she ate nothing. after all. and
pretty soon l put the tray down in
the sand. said little; there was no
hurry. We were together, and time
meant nothing against that age-long
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
"If seven maids with seven mops
swept 1t for half year
Do you suppose, the walrus said. that
they could got It clsarT'
she threw at me once whom she
must have known I was going to
sneak. / held her hand, and - long