CHAPTER XI.

Te Aroha News, Volume III, Issue 137, 16 January 1886, Page 6

CHAPTER XI.

Rich took his luncheon with him that morning when he started out fishing, for he intended to row across th 6 lake and follow the course of a trout stream beyond, and make a day of it. It was the first day that he had been off by himself since the arrival of Annie Noble, and he had imagined that it would be a relief to be entirely independent, with no one by to act as a restraint, or require attention from him. But he did not enjoy it half so much as he had expected : the hours seemed long, and he missed the merry laugh and bright little face which had of late been such a source of enjoyment to him ; while more than once a regretful sigh escaped him as he remem bered how keenly he must have wounded the child to have made her shun him so persistently. It was between four and five in the afternoon when he put up his fishing-rod, and with his basket well filled with " speckled beauties," turned his face homeward. Making his way back to tho lake, he found his boat where he had left it, and leaping into it, he pushed off, and putting a bold stroke to his oars, he pulled for the opposite shore. Half way across the lake there was a tiny island, and just as he was about to round it he heard the dip of another pair of oar?, add the next moment, he ?aw Mr Noble's lieht little boEt, with Annie and her maid in it, pulling in the same direction as himself He nodded gayly to them, and called out cheerily, a" if there had been no misunderstanding between him and his little friend : " Been over to Moss Island, Annie ?" "No," she returned, in a subdued fone, and rowing more slowly, as if to let him pass her ; "we have been lily hunting." "Have you had good luck?" he a<=ked. hoping;, boy-like, that she would inquire regarding his success as a fisherman. " Pretty good," still demurely. "Guess what I have in my basket," and he tanped it lightly as he spoke. '• Fish." she returned, indifferently. "Of course -and tront. Such beauties, too ! Now guess how many." "I can't. I'm very stupid at guessing:," she replied, sedately ; then, backing water with one oar, she turned her boat h-Uf around, exclaiming, with sudden interest : " Sarah, there is a lovely lily there— l must have it !" Sarah and Rich both looked where she pointed, and, trueenouerh, there was a most beautiful lily just, beyond their boat. As they neared it, Annie lpft her oar, and going to the stern, leaned far out, reaching her hand as deep into the water as she could, so as to secure as long a stem a 5 * possible. "Take care, Annie l " Rich called out, his heart in his mouth as he saw her dangerous position. But his warning came too late ; for the •words were scarcely uttered when she lo3t her balance and, with a sharp cry of terror, disappeared beneath the water. The maid, losing her presence of mind, dropped her oar, and began to shriek in a way that might have aroused the fabled eeven s'eepers. But Rich, with a tew swift strokes of his oars, was alongside their boat in an instant, and watched for Annie to rise to the surface that he might reach for and save her. But she did not rise ! There were only gradually widening circles and a few bubbles where she had fallen, while the water was so muddy that he could see nothing beneath the surface. In a few moment? his jacket and shoes were off and he had spruug into those murky depths. He, too, disappeared, and was under water so long: that tha girl was in despair, believing that both were lost. But at last Rich came to the surface, bearing in his arm? the senseless form of his little comrade, while both were covered with mud and clime. " Stop your crying and screaming, Sarah, and help us!"' Kich commanded, sternly ; and, awed into obedience, she took the child from him, when he crawled into the boat with all the speed he could, and grasping the oars, pulled for the shore with a rapidity which only a desperate purpose could haye prompted. As soon as they landed he seized the still unconscious girl in his arms and ran for the farmhouse. There waa busy work among those terroretricken people during the hour which followed ; there were pale faces and fcinking hearts gathered around that little form, for it was a hard battle that they fought with the grim foe, Death, who seemed very loth to yield that sweet spirit back to life again. But the terrible suspense w ib over at last, and little Annie Noble opened her blue eyes and smiled up into the agonised faces bending above her. Then Rien, who had refused, despite his soiled and dripping clothing, to leave her until he could Know whether she would live or die, gave a cry of joy tha ended in a groan of pain, and he fell fainting upon the floor. He had hurt himself badly, grazing one eide in pulling himself into the boat, while he had strained his back with violent row ing, and then in parrying his burden up the bank and all the way to the farmhouse. He was confined to his bed all the next day, but the second morning he felt much better, though he was still very lame and sore, and only able to limp from his bed to the lounge in his aunt Audrey's room, and there Annie, who wa3 none the worse for her di a agreeable bath, pave a slight feeling of weakness and langour and looking rather pale, hovered about him all day long, waiting upon him and anticipating his slightest wieh. \* hen first told that she might go in to see him, she walked straight up to him, holding out both hands. " Rich," she said. and her voice trembled, ** you are very brave, and I wish I hadn't said that the other day, and I'm corry I was so rude and naughty." He drew her down to him and kissed her, for the tears in her blue eyes emote him. Her contrite confession told him something of how ehe had grieved over his words. "Never mind that any more," he returned. "I have forgotten everything, Annie, but your narrow escape and that you are cafe now." Hia very lips grew pale as he remembered how terrible her danger had been, and bow he had found her entangled among the weeds, and half pinned down into the mud by the fork of a dead limb that adhered to ±he bottom. " Papa eaya you are the most wonderful fcey he ever saw," the child continued 5 "be eayB there aren't many who would have had the courage to stay under water j co loop *od hunt for me. I heard him tell 1 Miss Waldemar so: you ought to have eeen '

how pretty she grew when he said it. She smiled so beautiful, jusfc as m/ inaninia used to, when sho was proud and glad over anythiner. And then her eyes got so soft and loving when she paid, ' Kich was always a good boy ; yes, and a brave boy, too.' " "Did Aunt Audrey say that?" Kich asked, his face flushing with pleasure Those few loving words were more to him than the most extravagant praise from anyone else. " Of course she did, or I couldn't tell you about it," returned Annie, bluntly; "and, Rich, I think Miss Waldemar. is just the loveliest lady in the world. I wish she was my 'Aunt Audrey,' too," she concluded, confidingly. Miss Waldemar herself entered the room, thus cutting short the eulogy upon her charms. Going up to the young people, she bent over Rich, asking how he was feeling. " Better, thank you, Aunt Audrey ; I shall be all right to-morrow, I think."' She smoothed the clustering curls away from his forehead, and bending still lower, kissed its white surface softly. " I am very proud of my dear boy, but I should have been heart-broken if anything serious had happened to him," sho said, with a quiver in her voice. He took her hand troin his head and held it close in his, but a choking sen-ation came into his throat and he could uot speak. Annie stood by while this little scene was being enacted, and there was tuch an earnest, wistful look in her eyes that Audrey's heart yearned toward tho little motherless girl more than ever before. She sat down by Kich, and with her disengaged hand drew her to her side and touched her lip? softly to her p-ilo cheek. "It was a narrow escape tor jou both ; wasn't it, little one ?" she said, with a irrave tenderness. " Yes'm," and the child's fair, rourd arm stole almost unconsciously about, her neck and clung to her w it li a loving clasp. "I wish—" she began, and then slcpped. "You wi*h whut. dear.'"' Airhcy a^ked, encouragingly " May - I call yon auntie, roo ? and maj' I come and kiss you every <i'ay '? —you know I haven't eot any mamma," this Li^t in such a plaintive tone that it went, to the heart of both her listeners. Audrey folded her close in both arms "Indee>» >ou may, darling, if you wish, and I shall like it very much, for you know, /haven't any Irfth nhl." "Oh. but you've got lhch, and heY better than a do/en girl-." Annie responded, with an adoring iook at the jouth Audrey and Rich both lamrhed aloud a* this extravagant estimate of his worth, and I the rather doubtful compliment which ?hc thus paid the young ot her own sex, and then the conversation drifted into other channels. Audrey "Waldemir, at thirty-two, v ■" ;i surpassingly lo\ely wonnn, while her \ ar. ; sat so lightly upon her that one v. . uld scarcely believe they had numbered so many by half adozan. She won all hearts wherever she went In manner she was peculiaily winning and gracious ; her tmile wa« re^tles 3 . Adrien Noble had been drawn toward her from the moment of their introduction, and, as day after day he was thrown into her society, and he came to realise that «ho was as love'y in character a« in person, his lonely heart began to yearn for the paramount right to such svveet companionship. •'What a ble??ino- she is to that nephew of her£ !" he often remarked to him-elf. " What a mother s-he would be to my little mischievous elf, who vidlyneedssnch a gentle restraining hand, and to be hedged about with the refining influences ot a nature like herd !" So with something of a purpose like this taking root in his heart, he sought her more and more. He planned long drives for the beautiful morninu?, always shrewdly including Mrs Allen in the invitations, for it was plain to be seen that the good woman admired him exceedingly ; w hile if the truth w ere know n, she had already begun to weave a little romance all by herself, in which Mr Noble and Audrey formed the central figures. One day, Mrs Allen was indispo?ed and obliged to keep her own room, acd Mr Noble and Audrey were the only occupants of the north piazza. The two children were playing croquet on the lawn a dozen rods away, and apparently absorbed in their game and in each other. " Quite a chivalrous young knight and devoted lady," observed Mr Noble, with his rare smile, as Rich, after knocking his antagonist's ball far beyond the bound iry of the ground, started upon the full run to bring it within the pioper Hmita again. " Yes," Audrey replied ; " I believe they have formed a friendship which will last throughout their lives." They watched the youthful player* in silence for several moments ; but if Audrey had been observant of her companion, she would have seen that he had lost something of his usual colour, while the lines about his mouth had settled into a resolute expression, iit length he looked up at her, and remarked, with deep earnestness : " I hope the ?ame may be true regarding you and me, Miss Waldemar " " Indeed, Mr Nobla, I think it is,"' Audrey [ promptly returned. "It has been a great pleasure to me to make your acquaintance this summer." " May I not designate it by a stronger word than that of ' friendship ?"' ho pleaded, in a low, eager tone, adding: "Miss Waldemar,l cannot longer defer telling you how dear you have become to me during the weeks we have spent together. The fire and passion of youth, perhaps, are past for me, but there has cmc into mv heart an enduring affection for you which can only ceaf c w hen 1 cea s e to live If this is a surprise to you - if I seem presumptuous in this declaration upon s <) short an aoquaint ance, do not answer mo now ; take time and consider it, and when you are assured of the i*f sponge of your own heart, let me come to you and win you for my wife. This may seem like a very prosaic, inatterof fact wooing; but, Mi=»s WaldemarAudrey, if you will let me call you so -there i*-- a strength and depth to my love for you that cannot be measured or expressed by words. Will you give me just one word of hope ?" He leaned toward her, gazing earnestly iiito her face ; and as she glanced at him the saw that his whole heart was in what he had just said to her, and the intensity of his words and looks thrilled her, in ppite of the knowledge that she could not then or ever give him the hope he craved. She was very pale now ; it recalled go vividly that other wooing, when her heart [had gone forth in such glad, fond lesponse to her eager lover — when Arthur Halstead had asked her to be his wife, and she had so trustfully laid her hand in his and had given herself to him. She knew that she still belonged to him, even though he was the husband of another. Slje had never met him during all those long years, yet she loved him just as truly to-day as then, and she *elt that she nevor could become the wife of another with his image so sacredly enshrined withjin hep eoul. "Mr Noble, 5 ' she said, after' a short silence, f ' when you said that you hoped for an enduring friendship between us, my he^rt responded promptly to the wish, for I felt that I should be glad to repognise in

you a true friond during the coming years of my lifo But whoti you a*k for a nearer relationship I roust say no. I think," she wont Of, tho )ich colour for a moment suffusing all her face, "it is due you that T should bo very frank and tell you why, and then you will sco how impossiblo it would be. When I was a young girl I loved another with the one love of my life Circumstances beyond our control — at least we thought at that time that they were beyond our control — served to separate us, and he married somo ono else. But my heait is just as much hia to-day as it was when we parted. 1 have never soon him since, nor do I ever hope or expect to see him again ; but I cannot feel that it would be right to take upon myself the duties and obligations of a wifo, still cherishing, as J do, tin other love. My life during tho last fifteen years has been a very sad, lonely one ; though eiace Rich has been with mo the shadows have lightened somewhat, and I believe 1 have eased my own heartburdens in .n measure by striving to alleviate tho sorrows of others " Audrey had s.poken very gently, but the white hands folded on her lap tromblod ; tuero was an expression of pain and longing in tho eyes that were looking off upon tho mountains beyond them ; her face was pale, her lips quivered now and then, all betraying how deeply moved she Avas in thus turning back this page of her history for him to read. A fecline of reverence for her took possession ot Mr Noble as ho listened and realised how liko refined etold sho had come forch from the furnace in w hich the had been ti icd. 'To him sue seemed the most beautiful and peitect woman ho had over met. Bending nearor to her when c-ho concluded, ho said in a low yet almost passionate tone : "Your story i*> a very sad one, Miss Waldemar, and I thank you for the conii denco that you have reposed in me by reLiting it But aou soy youi heart-burdens have alieuly been lightened by mirmteting t > the 3 of others — why not continue the good work? I am a lonely, fonoufui m in, and need the piosunco of a, sweei, good woman in my home; my inotheiieM girl, too, i»Led-< ju->t such genllo and rtfining inII 'enee* as you could throw around her, and 1 would *rive you such ttndor care as should make the icmaindci of your life peaceful, if I cannot, n-» 1 would, nuko it supremely happy, whilo Rich should be to me a=* u near &on.'' Audrey shook her head and smiled sadly. " Much as I would bo glad to make your liie le-s lonclv and s-oirowful, and care for thif dear little trirl, whom 1 learned to lovp so well this Mimmer, and much as I would liko Rich to have tho jjuar.iinnship of O7ie so well titled to help him shapo h'n caicer, yet 1 know it would not bo light I should feel like an impostor in your homo, Mr Noble, whilo outwardly performing my dutiet- a j your wife, yet all the while secretly cheiiehing that love for another which has become a pait of mj' very nature. He-tse," sho added, with an appealing accent, "let v-=< discontinue a subject fo p linful to us both — forget it if it in po^ible, and letain only plear-ant memories of tho friendship which avc have formed here this summer."' Two or three days later, much to Annie's grief and the letiret of the Avhole household, Mr Noble left that mountain farmhouse for a trip to Niagara, aftor which lie was to leturn to his own home in Brooklyn.