A Possible Loss

I met her ou the shores of the lake. There vrero roal tears iu her eyes. "Oh, Mr. Vansktart, ' ' she cried, " what shall I do? My husband's out in a boat, ever so far away, and the wind's rising, and tho boatrnan says that it's awfully daugcrous when there'sastorm, and" - I tiltod iny batiorward aud scratched my head. "I don 't see what you eau do, " said I cnmpassionately. I had sat uext her three nights table d'hote and liked her extreiuely. "Look at those trees! Oh, how it blows! And see! Great waves!" "Tho wind is certainly getting up, " I admitted, sittinf? down on a garden seat. "Oh, Mr. Vansittart, suppose he sbould be drowned!" "Suppose he?" - I pansed. The idea was a now one to ine. I Í arued it over in my iiiiiid. ' ' Wcll, snppose he should?" I said at last in an inquiring tone. "And we've only been married a 7ear!" "Yes, yes," said I thoughtfully. 'Your love is still fresh?" "As fresh as the day when" - "Your romance has not worn off; the day of disillusion has not come. Your husband's memory wouJd be the sweetest of consolations to you. " "But, Mr. Vausit" - "There would be uo alloy in your recollectious. You are young, your life would not be spoiled, but it would be, as it were, hallowed by sweet and not ioo poignant regrets. In the course of time the violence of grief would wear off." She sat down on the bench beside me and dug the end of her parasol into the path. "You would feel, " I pursued, "that, sacred as these memories were, precious as they were, you would not be jnstified in giving your whole life to them. And at last it may be that another wotild come who" - "Oh, I can liardly imagine that, Mr. Vansittart. " "Try, " said I encouragingly. "One who, though not perhaps the equal in all respecte of Mm you had lost, could yet shelter you froni the world" - "I should want some one, shouldn't ?" "And give you an honest, enduriug, unwavering affection. " "It wouldn't be the same thing, " said she. "Depend upon it, " Ireturned earnestly, ' 'ifc would be in some ways better, for he - your second hnsband - inight well be one who could appreciate the depths of your nature, who would be serious when you were" - "Instead of always inaking jokes? Ye-es, Mr. Vaneittart. " "Serious and yet able to enter into your lighter inoods, always good tenipered" - "Ho would be a wonderfnl husband, then!" "Generous - nay, lavish - in giviug you whatever" - "Fancy!" "You wished for, unspariug in his elïorts to please yon" - "What, after rnarriage?" "Devoted absolutely to you. Why, it's a lovely picture. " "Yes, it does sound nice, " Bhe conceded, digging with the parasol. "Could not such a one, " I continued, leaning toward her, "by his affectionato and constant efïorts, in the course of time heal the wound caused by your cruel calainity?" "I don 't know. Yes - I suppose so - well, perhaps in time, Mr. Vansittart, he might." ,, "He would, " said I positively. "I can imagine myself" - "I beg your pardon, Mr. Vansittart?" "I say, I pan imagine myself making it the work, he whole preoccupation, the worthy task, of my life thus to restore happiness to one from whom it Keemed to have departed forever. " "It would be a gplendid thing for A inau to do, wouldn't it?" ïhere was a pause. Then she said: "But, Mr. Vansittart, would yon, who are so young and so-'-and so - and so - I mean, who are so young, be content with a heart that has spent its first love on another, in whicli the freshness of youthful" - "I sometimos think, " I interrupted, in low but urgent tontrn, "that affection f that kind is nobler, higher, better than the rash inipnlsiven6ss of an ignorant girl. It would be a sympathetio cotnmuuion of minds, of souls, Mrs. Lawreuco. ' ' "Yei, I see. Y, it would, Mr. Vaniittart. " ' Mr ywpathy fr you, ' ' I parnntd, Í "would soften and inspire iny nature. I should be elevated to your level. And perbaps at last, wnen long years had ob' h i eratod"- ' "Well, had blurred, Mr. Vansittart. " "Yes, h;id blnrred the pain of memory, wemight cometo see, tounderstand, how what or.ce seemed so distressing i was really, in spito of its saduess, tba uecossary conrlition for tho perfect de! velopinent of two liutuan lives. " For a few momentü we sat in thousht. Then Mrs. Lawrence observed, "Good so of ten comes out of suffering, doen't it?" "It indeed seems tobe theway of tiie world. ' ' "A woman placod as you describe, Mr. Vansittart, would feel, I'm sure, so deep, so strong a gratitnde for the man wbo bad nobly dedicated nis life to her that as time wore on she would give to bim an affection, different in kind perhr.ps. but not inferior in intensity to that. whioh she had feit for the man who first wou her heart. " "That would be the only reward I Bbould hope for," said I. "So that, iu the end, I should feel - it wonld be borne in upon me that this man was uy real, iny true, my only" - At this point Mrs. Lawrence stopped abruptly. for a shadow feil between us, and on looking upwe sawastont, elderly jnan, wcaring a blue jersey, standing just in front of us. "Beg pardon, mum," said he, "but are you the lady what asked Jim Dobb about the gentleman what's out in the boat?" "About tho - what? Oh, yes, I suppose - oh, ye.s, I am. ' ' "Wel!, you've no cause to be put out about 'ini, mum. He's justroundin the point, and bö'll be ashore in two minutes' time. " "But Dobbs said it was very dangerons, " I protestad . "Dobba don 't know everything, sir, beggin your pardon. Anyways the gentleman's safo enough. Glad of it for your sake, mum. " "Thauk yon - thank yon so much," Baid Mrs. Lawrence. The elderly man stood looking at me in such a marnier that I took sixpence out of my pocket and gave it to him. To be frank. I have seldom grudged a sixpence more. Then the elderly man passed on. There was a long silence. Mrs. Lawrenca had mado quite a little pit in the gravel walk. Once r;'ie looked at me, and finding me rejarding her rather gloomily, I believo, hastil f turned away again with a blush. At last the silence becamo intolerable - almöst improper, in fact. "What were we talking about when that. man interrupted us?" asked Mrs. Lawrence, with a desperate assumption of ease. It is a rule of mine to give a plain answer to a plain question. "We were talking," said I, "of what would have happened if Dobbs had known everything. " And having thus said I suddenly began to langh. Women are strange creatures. Mrs. Lawrence leaped up from her seat and Btood over me. Her eyes flashed with indignation, and she positively braudished her parasol at me. "Yoit hovrid, horrid boyK' she cried. "My dear Mrs. Lawrence" - I protested. . "Yon've made me talk as if I" - 1 "It was a mere hypothesis, " I plead-l ed. ' "As if I - oh! Anyhow, if my hnsband were drowned a thousand timt over, I'd never speak to you. " "So you say now, " said I composedly, "but you know you were quite taken with the prospect a little while ago. " "Mr Van.sittart, yon're wicked! How eau I go and teil my poor, dear Robbie?" "I don't insist on your telling him, " said I in a-conciliatory tone. "Perhaps you think I don't care for him?" she criod defiantly. "The hypothesis was that you did, " said I. "That's what made it so interesting. " "I shall sit somewhere else at dinner tonight, " Mrs. Lawrence announced haughtily. "If you go on like this," I observed warningly, "I shall end by being"- "You can be jnst what you like." "By being glad," I conclnded. "Glad! Glad of what?" ' 'Glad, " said I, "that I see your husband walking toward us in perfect health. " As I spoke he carne within speaking distance. "Helio, Georgië,'! he cried to his wife. "Herelam; had a bit of a blow, though. " Mrs. Lawrence ran a few steps toward him. I took the liberty of followiug. "Vansittart been looking after you?" asked Lawrence, with a smile. "Oh, my darling Robbie, " cried Mrs. Lawrenee, "I've been imagining all sorts of things about your" "Foolish child!" said he fondly. "Did you think I was going tobe drowned?" "We didn'texactly thinkit, " I broke in. "We assumed it by way of" - "Picase, Kobbie, will yon take me into tho house?" said Mrs. Lawïeuce hastily. Mrs. Lawrenoe did sifc elsewhere at dinner, bat Lawrence said to me as we playea billiarrts afterward: "Teil you what, oíd chap, if a fellow wauts his wife to be extra pleasant to hini, lie caii't do better than risk his life ou this beastly lake, " and hesmiled most contentedly. It was merely peniteuce, of coursa But I lot hiin