Year: 1867

ways loved the cakes and the ether little
things | USED to like to fix for her. But
this is not my story after all.


She was the fairest, daintiest little beau
ty L have ever seen-not more than child
in her ways and eeliugs-gentle and kind
and oil, so very winning She had the
softest, whitest skin, and pair of eyes as
pretty as her spanicls-though that is not
a pretty thing to compare to Miss Louie.
And her hair It curled in little loose
rings when She was child, and had a
dark touch on it, with goldy color in the
light-it was the prettiest hair in the
world, and so proud as her faith err was Of
1t He would not let her cut 1t so she
wore great, long, loose curls, dropping
down on her shoulders to her belt, and
drawn back from her brow with "A blue rib
bon. And such bright curls as there were
on her forehead and behind her ears-little
rings, that the wind tossed about her eyes
| used to think she was the finest lady of
them all, with her sweet, pure ways Just as
/ fresh as little child's. So | do not Won
der that any one could not help loving
4 Louie lrvingham.


| found out suddenly that John loved
her-and that did not surprise me at first
He used to drive the Hall carriage, until he
bought his yacbt-for he loved the sea
more than any thing else Miss Emily had
old Robert, who had been there so many
years but John was so careful and steady
that, from his place in the stables, Mr..
Alfred had him drive his carriage. SO he
knew Miss Louie as well as |. ever since
1 |, Il L / i
her on the backs Of the horses-as she used
to love To ride Then. when she grew
older, it was j Ohm who taught her to ride.
and went with her-and | think they set
one anothers beauty of, even if it is fool
ish to say SO But when found he loved
her, | was little troubled


1t was this way 1t was late in the
fall, and Joe was not back yet, and the
family at the Hall were to leave that week
for town, Miss Emily and all I remem-
ber the day had been sultry for September,
the last day Of the month, and the sun had
left the sky lurid The sea was fine
sight the red skv had given it fiery
look. and the green light Of the waves
broke in bits OF opal ike foam. The sua
showed a few smacks and small craft tack
ing against the night breezes, and the beach
had it, crowds Of finely y-dressed people from
the hotels to make the picture prettier
knew Charlie was with his father that
cruise, and | sat alone with a bit of sew
ing on the doorstep. The very smell of
the sutrv air comes back to me. the line
Of gray sea where the sky met it, the sound
OF the waves, and the smell of the late few
flowers in the little garden. The house
I tronted toward the sea. COSY little place.
warm and snug IN winter; tried to make
it homelike for Joe


| know | sat that night quite late till it
grew too du-ky to see, and [ let my work
fall down ON my lap. think | was little
sad, wondering if | ever should be any
thing more than Il houSekecper for Joe .
ever see into the world that those crowds
Of beautiful ladies lived in ever hc a whit
I beyond the Old sad life led, never think
/ ing how much it held and forgetting Char
lie and Joe would be alone YOU know
felt little bitterly a. leaned my heud
down on my hard paim-how soft and
dainty, and ieweled those hand, wonder
How finely clad those delicate limbs and
girls no younger than | were walking there
with brave, strong lovers in the twilight
and fresh sea air Would | ever have
a lover ? Not Jcm jenkins or Tom Coles
surely. but lover who was full of the
knowledge of book, and men one who
knew all | ycarncd to know; one who
could teach nc what | craved; one who
was strong and brave, and whom | could
trust-tru>t a. much aS | could have done
Just then


Ny foolish head went down with silly
little sob into my lap. as though how vain
and useless my hope, were.


just then the gate latch clicked, and in
the gloom saw ,Johu's tall, graceful figure,
with that quick. brisk step-like his words.
sound and firm-coming up the gravel walk
Whatever else | had been dreaming OF was
lost as it came to me in a mad, wild whirl
Of sense; Jenny you love this man. and
he is the lover you dream of.


| laid my hot cheeks down into my palms.
At any other time he would have noticed it
but he came steadily to me. and threw HIM
self down beside the steps on the grass
He often laid that way, with his head on
his arm, in the cool, it there were no par
ty to 90 out in the yachts or when he came
for word of Joe, Or to cheer me. But to-
night, | raised my face, glad il was
dark. and fearful lest he had heard my
heart beat, | caught a low SOD, short and.
from the sound fearless. but 4 mans sob.
1t struck me like stab. | felt 4 pitiful
weak fear creeping along the veins and
settling along my heart. But it was my
way to face things, and | sat quite still
till | was sure | could speak in broken,
surge-like whisper.


Is it ofJoe and Charlie, John ," Then
my voice broke quite down, and sat
shivering in the damp wind with the hair
wet and clinging about my forehead John
sprang up from the grass and stood before
me-


How blind! What fool | have
been !" But his hand on mine was cold
and shaky, and his voice hoarse . No,
Jenny, not that. Joe and the boy are
quite well, and ON their way back, for
Christie Burns vessel is in; but-but-'
his voice sinking ever lower, " it was
a trouble of mine, a trouble that seems
like to kill me. I've hidden it. Eve tried
to bury it. | even tried to be careless of
it, 1t won't do. 1t is there And now
when the last hope is going torever-l am
quite boy, jenny thought of you |
thought you might help me- and Jenny,
for Gods sake, tell me what to do


There was a deep falling in his voice,
and John never spoke that name lightly
| went up to him where he had crouched
in the grass again. and gathered the damp
hair from his brow


Tell me, John,'' said But the des-
pair that | had in my voice! He lifted
his face and covered it with his arm, as he