Grand Forks herald. [volume] (Grand Forks, N.D.) 1916-1955, 1921-04-02

big windows looked into rustling
maple boughs. The steady rushing
Of surf could be heard just beyond
the naples. Sometimes q soft 'fos
wrapped the trees and the lawn in its
lighthouse ding-donged through the
whole warm, silent morning, blu,
more often there was sunshine, and
Rachael took her book to the beach,
got into her stiff, dry bathing suit. in
a small. hot bath house furnished on
ly by a plank bench and a few rusty
nails" and plunged into the delicious
breakers she loved so we'll. Busy
babies, digging on the beach, be-
frtended her, and she grew to love
their sudden tears and more. sudden
laughter, their stammered condolences
and &he touch of their warm, sandy
little hands. She became an adept at
pinning up their tiny bagging under
elastics from the soft hair al the
back Of moist little necks. If a
mother occasionally showed signs of
friendnness, Rachael accepted the
overture pleasantly, but managed to.
wander next day to some other part
Of the beach, and so evade the
definite beginning Of a friendship.
The warm sunshine, favored by the
salty sea- soaked into her very bones.
Everything about Quaker Bridge was
bare. and worn, and clean; nothing
was crowded. or hurried, or false.
Barren dunes, and white, bleaching
sand. colorless little houses facing
the elm-lined main street. colorlcss
planks outlining the road to the wa
ter; the monotonous austerit,, the
pure severity of the little ocean viii
lage was full of satisfying charm for
her. II she climbed a sandy rise be-
yono Mrs. Dimnick's cottage, and
laced h north; she could see the
white roadway. winding down to
CArk's Bar. where the ocean fretted
year after year to free the waters Of
the bay only twelve feet away. Be
yond, on the slope. was the village
known as Clark's Fills. a, smother Of
great trees with a weather-whippeo
splre and an occasional bit Of roof or
habitAtion of man.
In other directions, facing east or
west or south. there was nothing but
the sand. and the coarse
bushes that rooted in the sand. ana
the clear blue dome Of the sky. Ra-,
chael. whose life had been too c,owd.
ed, eloried in the honey.scented
emptiness Of the sand hills the meas-
ureless, heaving surface Of the OCEAN
the dizzying breadth and space u,
which. an inftnitesimal speck. she
moved. ""e
She had sensibly taken her land.
nay ~ MRS. Dimmick. into her con.
ndence, and pleased to be part Of tha
little intrigue. and perhaps MA sea 'n nc
well to rent her two best rooms -
this charming stranger, the old 1aav
protected the secret CALAMITY. It Was
all much more simple than Rachel
had feared 1t would be. Nobodv n,,es'
toned her. nobody indeed paid attsn-
ton to her: she wandered ahout a. :,
lblissful isolation as good for her tir.d
soul ~ wa the primitive Life she Lad
for her tired body. 80"
Yet every a Of the idle avs ,aft
IL naArk upon her spirit; sradUalIv' -
xrea1 many Things that had seernAd
wortn While IN the old life ehowed
1897 rue ana petty ana sordid ma.
|turas nov; gradually the nur1fyins
waters OF solitude washsd her ~
elsan. She began to plan Tor the IA.
turs--a future 70 different from tn
crowded and hurried mast! -
warren GreeoryS letters came, rer.
ularly, postmarked London. psris
Rome. They were. utterly ana who'll,
sAttsfy1ng to Rachael, ana they wen.
tar to make these days the All
in her life. Her heart would thru
like q Strl's when she Nv, on he IN,
tie drop.leAf table In the haflwav,afhI
big SQUIRE envelope addressed in th.
DOCTORS n hand; sometimea-axair
like . gtrl-she carried it down Il
the beach before breaking the sA.,
thrilled with a thousand hopes. IN,
ready to nut than IN tho tA.t w.