Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1917-01-25

both depth and fury. He Remembered
/ just such river in the Tyrol, with this
/ same Wilson on a rock, holding the
hand of a pretty Austrian girl, while
/ he snapped the shutter Of a camera.
He had that picture somewhere now;
/ but the girl was dead, and, OF the
/ three, Wilson was the only one who
had met life and vanqushed it.
ave known him all my life" Sid
ney said at last. You're perfectly
/ right about one thing: I talk about
/ him and think about him. I'm being
! candid, because what's the use of be-
/ ing friends if we're not frank? I adj
/ mire him-you'd have to see him in the
hospital, with everyone deferring to
/ him and all that, to understand. And
] when you think of a man like that.
| who holds life and death in his hands.
of course you rather thrill. IL hon.
! estly believe that's all there is to it"
If that's the whole thing, that's
/ hardly mad passion" He tried to
/ smile; succeeded family.
well, of course, there's this, too. I
! know he'll never look at me. I'll be
/ one of forty nurses; indeed, for three
months I'll be only a probationer. He'll
/ probably never even remember I'm in
the hospital at ALL"
Il see. Then, if you thought he was
in love with you, things would be diff
! ferent?"
If thought DR.. Max Wilson was in
love with me-" said Sidney solemnIy,
! I'D go out Of my head with joy
To hide the shock with which he
! realized that she was, unknown to her
self, already in the throes of a roman
| tic attachment for Wilson, K. suggest
| ed descent to the river. She accept
/ ed eagerly, and he helped her down.
| That was another memory that out
! lasted, the day-her small warm hand
in his; the time she slipped and he
| caught her; the pain in her eyes at
one of his thoughtIess remarks.
I'm going to be pretty lonely" he
/ said, when she had paused in the de-
| scent and was taking a stone out of her
! low shoe. Il shall hate to come home
| at night" And then, seeing her vince:
! I've. been whining all day. For
| heavens sake, don't look like that. If
there's one sort of man I detest more
| than another, it's a man who is sorry
| for himself. Do you suppose your
| mother would object if we stayed out
here at the hotel for supper? I've or
! dered moon, orange-yellow and extra
| size.'
Il should hate to have anything Or
| dered and wasted"
| 'Then We'll stay"
| Its fearfully extraYagant."
"I'll be thrifty as to moons while you
are in the hospital"
! So it was settled. And, as it hap
| pened, Sidney had to stay, anyhow.
| For, having perched herself out in the
| river on a sugar-loaf rock, she slid,
| slowly but with q dreadful Inevitable
| ity, into the water. Z. happened to be
| looking in another direction. So ii oc-
CURED that at one moment Sidney sat
| on rock, fluffy white from head to
feet, entrancingly pretty, and knowing
| it, and the next she was standing neck
! deep in water, much too startled to
| scream, and trying to be dignif1ed IN
| der the rather trying circumstances. K.
| had not looked around. The splash had
! been a gentle one.
eff you will be good enough" said
/ Sidney, with her chin well up, f'tO give
me your hand Or a pole or something
| because If the river rises an inch /
! shall drown"
| To his undying credit, z. LIE Moyne
| did not laugh when he turned and saw
| her. He went out on the sugar-loaf,
and lifted her bodily up it's slippery
sides. He had prodigious strength, in
| spite of his Ieanness.
| 'Well!" said Sidney, when they were
both on the rock, carefully balanced.
"Are you coId?"
"Not a bit. But horribly unhappy. I
must look a sight" Then, remembering
| her manners, as the Street had it, she
said prinly:
| THANK you for saving me-"
''There wasn't any danger, really,
unless-unless the river had risen"
And then, suddenly, he burst into de-
| lighted laughter, the first, perhaps, for
months. He shook with it, struggled
at the sight of her injured face to re-
strain it, achieved finally a degree of
sobriety by fixing his eyes on the river
! bank.
when you have quite finished" said
| Sidney severely, perhaps you will
| take me to the hotel. I dare say I shall
| have to be washed and ironed."
He drew her cautiously to her feet.
Her wet skirts chung to her; her shoes
were sOdden and heavy. She chung to
him frantically, her eyes on the river
below. With the touch of her hands
| the mans mirth died. He held her very
carefully, very tenderly, as one holds
! something infinitely precious.
I CHAPTER vi.