Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1918-09-03
The Gilded Man
MNTfS@ by clifford e}zzyth

over the waters sunny surface. The hollow
echo from and rowlock, the grating of
prov on pebbled beach, broke the silence that
bad surrounded him since he left the
little wharf at KcswiCk. The lighteSt of sum
mer breezes stirred the topmost branches
above him. Invitation was in the air, rest
beneath the trees. This was surely the morn
ing of the world, and he the diScOverer
of this nameless island Strange that it
should be here. unmarried, untouched, un-
known in populous England.
There was welcome in the crackle of twigs
beneath his feet responsive thrill from the
green moss upon which he threw himself.
AS he tried to catch the blue of the sky be-
yond the moving canopy of green, he idly
wondered whether he was the first to pierce
the islands solitude, whether its secret had
been kept for him.
Perhaps it was in answer to his unuttered
query that the stiffness was suddenly broken
by the faintest echo of svery laughter. He
listened in SURPRISE for the island far
too small, he imagined, to screen either house
or camp from the view of any one approach
ing it, and before he left his boat he had
satisfied himself that no other summer idler
was here before him. Nevertheless, there
was that tantalizing laughter coming from
a portion of the island opposite the beach on
which he had landed-and there was the
shattering of his daydreams.
He parted the low-lying branches of some
bushes growing between him and the shore,
but could nothing save the clear
panse of lake upon which there was neither
sail nor rowboat He perceived, however,
Judging by the distance of the water below
him, that the shore of the island must here
become dmirutive cliff, in the shelter of
which. doubtless. was the being whose
laughter he scarcely knew whether to well
come shun. The fairy-like spot obviously
had some prosaic owner who was there TO
enjoy what was his--or hers. The laughter
was Enthusiastically a woman's
David rose hastily from his retreat beneath
the trees uncertain whether to apologize for
his intrusion or to slip away unperceived.
After all. the laughter chimed in pleasantly
enough with his rowing fancies. There had
been wood nymphs before. if one can believe
the old romancers, who sang the carefree
joys of the glens they inhabited-and per-
haps this a wood nymph. His curiosity
aroused, David peered again through the
branches. This time he saw her.
She was not wood nymph of old mythol-
ogy, but an incarnation of the spirit of youth
that all morning pursued him. She was clad
in the simplest of sailor suits the blouse of
gray silk opening loosely about her delicately
nodded throat and neck. her hair Straying
in tawnyN rnglets over her shoulders and
reaching down to the book which she held in
her lap, At her side sat old man of stall
wart frame, white-haired, with the strongly
lined face and sharpened features typical of
the student. A wde-brimmed Quaker hat
lying at his feet emphasized his freedom
from the conventonalities of dress and was
in strict keeping with his long black coat and
voluminous trousers.
They were reading book together a book
that had evidently provoked the disturb
ing laughter and brought a grim look Of
amusement to the old mans face. The noise
made by Daniel. however, broke up their
pleasant occupation The girl turned her
head gazing curiously at the spot whence
came the sound of rustling leaves. What she
saw stirred her as nothing ever had before.
Her glance met Davids, and to both of them
"a thaI I,-as tha, ha,I hn.p
waiting for the revelation of that moment.
Her pulse quickened; her cheek paled. then
grew rosy red; her gray eyes diated with
mingled alarm and pleasure.
The sudden, deep impression was dashed
by singular interruption. The girls com
panon, his back half turned to David, his
face still expressive of amusement, and look
ing straight before him at the ripple of water
| kissing the pebbles at his feet. spoke in a
| loud harsh voice:
Una" he said. remember the schoonas-
| ter! This mans world is not ours. What
| does he know of Rysdae?'
She looked down confusedly aware that
| her unce-for it was Howard Leighton
without seeing this stranger who had so
| quickly aroused her interest spoke as If he
| knew who he was and all about him. When
| she looked again David was gone
Between that first meeting and this eve-
| ming, year after. when they stood together
| in Una's garden at Stoneleigh, they had lived
| through much of loves first golden record.
| Their experiences had not always been cloud
| less, Howard Leighton, 1t is true did not ac-
| lively oppose their marriage, but he had
| borne himself in manner that showed at
| times, either a singular Indifference or a
! covert mistrust of the man who was so soon
| to take from him his brothers only daughter
Il might be from jealousy. 1t might be from
| a perfectly natural feeling of caution at any
rate, he never discussed their plans with
4 them, he never explained his attitude toward
| them. Never again did he allude to the
| schoolmaster, nor account for the strange
words he had used on the little island in
| perwentwater
| For the most part he watched their court
| ship with sort of whimsical curiosity, bu,
| always Withholding his assent from tn,
| marriage to which they looked forward Una
| was indignant at his final attempt to sepa,
| rate them. His suspicious and Davies
| quixot,c manner of meeting them increased
her faith in her lover Never before had
she been so perfectly happy as she was this
| evening with him in the gardens autumna
| silence.
1T will soon be forever" she whispered
"Yoa are not afraiu?"
4 IF Il were possible for our love TO die, II Il
| were a. nhortlivei as the sunfiowers If sJms