Year: 1874

obIOIS AOfNy lAAdN ~
could never change; love beside which
this happy and untroubled affection
that he bore to Elsie would be shawow
only-if only the love had once been
there to take root.


Never could he guess at any of these
dreams which haunted me, but noticed
new and curious intenmess, which
warned me that this hidden selfish pain
was changing even my outward self
1t must have been this change which
prompted them to plan for Elsie and me
to travel to the seaside, and stay there
until the summer waned.


If they had let me alone-there or
anywhere thought l might have
gained health and better thoughts; but
Elsie would not leave me.


Left alone with her, and hearing her
constantly speak of Horace in that tone
ofconfde t, childIike happiness, it could
not be but that | soon must hate her in
my heart.


Ny father and Horace were to be with
us in the afternoon, and in the morning
Elsie and [ went out to bathe together
There was no sunshine on the sea, but
the water was fresh and full of motion,
just as we liked it; so we laughed when
we were told that there was danger of a
sudden squall that day, that very few
ladies had ventured out, and even they
were returning now.


"Not that there's any danger, miss"
the man said, as he hooked his horses
harness to the caravan which had cho-
sen; 'only don't you think you'd bet
ter take one of the women with your"


''We are not afraid; are we Margaret"
smiled Elsie; "and we help each other
quite enough"


Then she gave orders for her own ma
chine to be wheeled close to mine in the
sea, and ran up the steps with smile
and nod at me.


How well I remember the look of
the sea that day, as l stepped into it, and
Elsie came up to me with her dancing
steps and laughing eyes


How wide and secret the sea was and
what little thing she looked there,
battling merrily with its waters, so
strong against her little shielding hands!
And what horrible longing possessed
me, yet what an over-mastering fear :
Fear of what? Fear of the waters
which l loved? Fear of Elsie's tiny
power? All, no; what fear had was
fear of myself.


We were standing quite still, telling
each other how calm the sea had grown
all in minute, and still with what dis
tance between US which / kept so care
fully when the squall came. A sudden
violent rush of wind swept across the
waters towards the shore; the waves
reared themselves above US, then swoop-
ed down and dashed US helplessly upon
the sand


-hoi NAe'i SfAANA NOuA0
hear Elsie's call as the great wave rolled
on-"Your hands hold me, hold mel"


1 fought my way to her and took
her hands, then looked wildly round.
The bathing machines looked to be
miles away from us now, and one was
thrown upon its side by that strong
rush of wind and water. If We could
reach it we might support ourselves,
perhaps, until help came. The shore
looked like another world to my hot an
guished eyes, sa far away. What was
this singing in my ears? Was it the
water still? ! was strong and fearless
now; no wave, however fierce and strong,
would swallow me. The water was but
shallow after all.


"Margaret, where have the waves car
ried us? 0, we are lost, We are los :
help me, Margaret r'


put my arms about her-this girl
who had won from me all that made
life precious-and 1 held her closely,
very closely. She looked up from my
arms, her eyes eagerly seeking comfort
from mine, her lips parted for the ques-
tion to come painting forth:


"Shall we be lost?"


Then, as she had read hopeless an
swer in my face, a piercing cry went up
amoung the clouds:


go, Horace! Horace!"


More closely still I held her now, but
held her where the waters must pass
over her in their rush. My lips were
tight and firm; my eyes upon that second
mighty wave that came so fiercely to en-
gulf us.


"I am holding you Elsie! Close your
eyes, for it is coming?"


Bent and frail, she stood in my enl-
brace with her eyes closed, while the
huge wave, which 1 could calmly stand
and watch, came rolling on behind her.
then l held her down firmly and steadi-
", beneath the water, battling the wave
for my own life and breath. When at
last the sea grew calm again, and we
tossed no longer at its wild, strong will,
1 had still my hands upon her shoul-
ders, and under the waters could see a
white, dead face. And my strength had
even failed me even yet, for was hold
ing her so when they found us, and lif-
ted us together; whispering eagerly that
one was living but that the other had
been for long time dead.


/ did not see Horace for long time,
so that when at last they let me see him
the first bitterness of his grief was past
He asked me many things about that
day, and told him all-save the horri-
BILE truth that l had killed her. ! told
him how Elsie had clung to me in heI
fear, when that awful wind swept so sud
denly across the sea; but how she had
grown so weak at last and despairing
that she fell with the second wave and
never rose again. He sat beside me
while l told him this, and then it seemed
| tn grow natural 10 hin, tn sit haSidf