The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1911-03-02

|
 an almost perfect oval. with cleanly
 cut features, with lips glowing rediy
 above the fiour-beladen sack; with eyes of 8 dark grey. as brilliant as the
 stars that shone above him; with
 dark, soft hair framing the upper l part of the face, and only half screen. | ing the small, shell-ike ears.
 Though Ronald did not know it.
 for he knew nothing of pictures or ol
 books, only of cricket-bats, fencing
 foils, boxing-gloves, tennis-rackets guns, and horses-she looked like ono
 of Murillo's girls just stepped from
 the doorway which might have served as frame.
 | The dark-grey, brilliant eyes met
 his somewhat startled ones, without
 a trace of fear or shyness; indeed
 her dark brows came together with a
 frown as if she resented his appear
 ance and his manner of announcing 1 it.
 "You threw stone and broke my window" she said laconically, in a voice of a deep, but sweet. contralto. 'T did," admitted Ronald. "I'm
 sorry But I kf,ocked first, ever 20
 many times. and I could not make any one hear. You must let me pay for the window. and accept my apolo- gies. Where am I?"
 | ssvr~t- Sc ..6 S
 not suilenly. but with resentment still in her tone.
 Thanks he said: but that doesn't help me much. I want to get to Shelford."
 "Shelford?" she repeated, almost as
 if she had never heard of the place. ''Its over there somewhere" Shc
 waved the shining scoop vaguely in
 the direction from which he had come. You are out of your way" That's evident" said Ronald, in his cheerful, devil-may-care fashion. Well, I must try and find it. say, ! would you be so kind as to give me q match-a box, if you can spare it?' 'I'H see," she said.
 She turned. and was about to close the door and, probably. bolt it; but, in the act of doing so. she paused and looked with unconcealed keen ness at his handsome face; something in it must have reassured her, for she left the. door open. and disap- peared in the interior of the mill. Ronald, who always preferred sit- ting to standing. stepped in and seat pression of the girls beauty, which, 1 in it's way, was as weird as the min, had not worn of; and he was won
 derins who she was. and whether she
 was alone in that extraordinary wild and dreary spot.
 1t was not only her beauty which
 had set his curiosity agog and awak- ened strange interest--this part of Deyonshire is rich in pretty girls; you
 cannot take a miles walk withou, seeing them; they are famous where
 ever the English tongue wags-but there was something about this girl Of
 the mill which differentiated her from
 the ordinary rustic beauty. For in-
 stance, the Devonshire lass of the peasant class is usually somewhat meek. and always shy. in the presence 1 of strangers, especially of the mascu- line gender; but this girl was cer-
 tainly not shy. She had confronted
 him with the courage and self-posses- sion of 8 man, with the fearlessness and self-reliance which are supposed
 to be the characteristics of the male only.
 Then. again, her face and her man.
 ner did not belong to the type repre-
 scented by the class in which he might,
 quite reasonably. have placed her;
 there was a note of something high CT. not only in her voice, but in the
 direct, fearless gaze of her wonderful eyes.
 She came back presently and held
 out box of matches.
 | 6iAC AdA aSoSe 15lQ6 U6E SdCk, dHu
 Ronald saw that her figure possessed a grace which matched her face. He
 did not know that she had never worn
 stays, and therefore was not aware
 that the beautiful curves and con- tours of her lissom figure were in- 1 cebted to her freedom from that | feminine article of attire. Like most | men of his kind, Ronald was an ar- dent, though perhaps unconscious, ad-
 mirer of female loveliness; and as he l lit his pipe his eye rested on her, re- spectfully enough, but with keen ap. preciation.
 Thank you" he said. "I suppose may smoke: though I suppose I oughtn't, in mill"
 | You won't do any harm." she said.
 in her deep, sweet contralto. She stood with her left hand resting ! on her hip, her right still holding
 the shining scoop. Ronald did not l know it, but at that moment she was
 exactly like one of those little Roman
 statuettes one sees in the British
 Museum, dated somewhere B. c. 500.
 But her attitude, eloquent of natural
 grace. did strike him; and he drew at l