Eloise

They had parted coliUy, Richard Holmes walked rapidly up the streel to lii.s boarding plaee with a white face, Bternij set lips, hls hands clasped tightly behlnd hlm, and bis whole frame quivering Wit wounded piide and keon disappol&tment. Kloise Ellbson had turned her pretty tace homeward with a proud little toss, aaid a look of soniething like briumph in lier coquettish dark oyes. That she was a spodled and petted beauty everyone in the village knew; and that she "was willful and eapricious and exacting as she was bright and pretty iiud bewitching every one knew ais well. The only child oí a wealthy mili owaer, irom lier very inlancy indulged in her every wish and fawned tipon by aduiiriug friends it was no wonder that she was, when 6he chose to be, a most tyraimieal epecimen oí yonng womanhood. 8he had chosen to be such the afternoou she met Richard Holmes, her fatlKT's book-keeper, on the etreet, and allowed him to turn and walk hetáde her. It was raming, and. ehe graciously closed lier own elegant little umbrella to share the larger one he carried. They had gone on to-geiher enjoying the rain, laughing and chatting gayly, gossiping in their light way about this and that happening in the social life of the village. Perhaps he had chosou an inauspicious moment to declare lus love and offer her nis hand, but, inauspicious or not, he had spoken and received hls answer. They had exchanged a few hot words and then parted in a sudden frigidity which 6iezed thein both. She had added such scorn and disdain to her refusal that it was more thau he could bear in silence. She had even insinuated to iüui that ït ■was not herselt' he loved, but her father's wealth. She had woonded him eruelly and intentionally, and he had left her suddeuly with a cold adieu. Eloiee raised her own unibrella witth a dfefiant lktle laugh, and a glance at the retroating iigure, and then turned homeward, hnmmimg a fragment of the latest opera. Her father'e bookkeeper! Presume to oOer her Ufi hand! It was absurd! Thus she commuued wfbh herself as she went up the street to her home. She tried to be angry at the presumption of the man, but in spite ui herself she could not. She had always admired him- yes! in a way ehe had quite liked him, and it was pleaeing to lier vanity to know he lover her - but marriage - that was anotüiej1 thing, indeed, and quite out of the question! For days and days it rained! It ffrew moaiotonoue and wearisome. Eloise, wandering aimlessly about the drawing room, looking over a book abstractedly; striking a few chords au the piano; going froni window to window to look out at the falling rain and the dismal landscape, was wretchedly lonesome and ill at ease. Why ddd not some one come ? Even Richard Holmes would be a welcome caller, if only to quarrel with him. He used to drop in so often to play a game oí chess or listen to her music. She wished she had not treated him so badly the other day. AVliy could she not have said, as other girls would have said, that she would be a sister to him ? It had never occurred to her to say that. She wished she had been les.s unknd, that day- wished that she liafl hed him off a little longer at least; 'lt used to be so pleasant to have him drop in for an hour or two.' The day was closing in dark and stormy. Eloise from the wiudow loóked at the b wollen river and the pools that stood here and there on the lawn. Suddenly she stood crect and looked at a well known iigure coming toward the house. It was Richard Holmee. The girl stood watchlng hls pforess eagerly, as he picked his way among the pools oí water, her lips parted, her pretty head thrown back, her dark eyes glad and feright. "I'm so glad he is coming," she said, softly to herself, as she stood, Kurrounded by the creamy ilrapries of the wtadow, waiting for him. She heard nis firm step on the piazza. She heard him ring the bell, and then speak a íew words to the maid who oponed the door. Suddenly a great roar íilled all the air, drowning the voices in the hall, drowning the silvery chime of the little Fronch clock, di-owning everything, sawllowing up everything 5n its awful volume of sound. There was a terror in it unlike the heaviest crash of thunder- a strauge tnd terrible menace in the sound, Bwelllng and gathering and growing louder every moment. Eloise Btood paralyzed with fear; the was powerlees to cry out, to move hersflf; she could only sta ml and lieten to that awful, all prevading roar. She dkl not think what it might mean. She had heard vague rumors of fears for the great dam above, but had not heeded. In a moment it was all over; the sound had come upon her in all its awfulness. She feil back overpowered with tenor and became unconscious. A violent blow (ju her Iicad roused lier to herself. She found hersell floating on the strong current, borne along at a sickening speed, upheld by the strength and fury of the roaring waters. Xear her she saw the great elm tree that had stood before the house ever since she was a child. It must have boen a branch of that wliicli Btruck her and brought her back to lile. With great, dark eyea dilated wlth horror, and a face white and ghastly as the faces of the dead, the girl flew alojig. Slie had oaught hold of the branches of the great tree, and was clLnging with a grasp like death itseli. Life was sweet - too sweet to lost'. In her irst moment of conuciousncss slic had thought of Richard Holmes. Wliere could he be ? DrowiH'd ? O, CJod forbid- not drowned- the thought was dreadful to her. In a flash she was revealed to herself. She loved hiiu- loved him with her whole heart - had loved him all the time without knowing it. AYhat had he come to the door for that night ? It seemed ages ago to her iiow - to bring a message of warning ? Her tather - was lie safe? 0 heaven, that appalling darkness - ttoat dreadful roar of rushinu; waters! She raised her voice and called "Richard!" It was lost in the roar of the flood. She tried agaln, summoning all her Btreogth, and sending her clear voice out over the waters - "Richard! Richard!" She thought she heard a human voice, faint and fa-r away - could it be his ? He was aear her when the flood struck the house; he iulght be BOmewhere near her now. öhe raised her voiee asuin. uul called his name wlth a desperation born of fcar and luve. A dark object was floating near her, tossing up and down on the resistiese current. She could see that it was a man, tlinging to a mass of boards. Tlie face was turned froin her, but the head looked familiar. She called again, and the man turned and looked at her. "Is it you, Eloise ?" he screamed; and then she barely heard him- "you, Eloise ? Thank Uod." She breathed a sigh of relief. She fert safe now - safe ever on the bosom of this rushing ocean of fierce watera and crashing debris- il lie were near. She saw that he was tryng to get to her, but could not; that he dartel not loosen his hold on the boards and trust himsolf one instant in that mighty current. She could see his face, white and agonlzed, turned to her - always turned to her. Some thing had struck him and cut a gash in his liead, and the blood was trickling down his pallld check. She could see it irom where 6he clung in the branches of the elm tree. She did not know that one beautiful, white arm was bare to the shoulder and bleeding f rom a cruel blow she had received- she did not realize the pain in her head where the tree had struck her- such things were trivial now. Life was the only thing to be thought of- life- and death- if death should come. A house carne reeling down and struck the mass of boards to which Richard clung. The shock loosened his hold and toeeed him far out in the water. The horrible undercurrent sucked him in and he sank from sight. The next moment his white face ehowed above the water. Such horror and despair Eloise had never seen as she saw there. One last appealing look at her. one cry from hls white lips, and he was goae again. Eloise prayed- prayed as she had never dreamed of praying before; cry ing aloud for help and pity In t his time of need. Richard carne to the surface again - near her this time. Could she reaeh him ? Only a Httle nearer- he vrae lialf unconscious and could not .hrlu.himself. She leaaed far out ViTtho dark torrcnt. Holding to the (tree firinly with ome arm, and touched him with her hand- caught him bj' hls collar and lield his head above the water as they were borne along. She called to him wildly. He heard and understood, made one great efiort to .sieze the branches oí the tree. and at last with an almost superhuman strength drew himsell up into the sheltering arms of the old elm. There he clnng witli wliat frail etrength was left him; but he was too -wak for words. It was no time for speech. The scène was more terrible than any of the imaginings oí Dante. Great masses of timbers, that ten minutes. More had been houses and homes, carne rushing by with shrieking women clinging to them, and little children borne along upom them. Strong men were ing like cgg shells upon the waters, and horses and cattte were plunging madly ior lifo among the ruins of great barns that came crashing by. NöW and titea some wild shTiek or un-arthly moan would mean the death cry of some human being goimg down to eternal sleep under the roaring waters. A great mass of thnbers came tearIng alom? down the highway of death; with une blow it shot the elm tree spinning far ahead on the waters. Eloiee and Richard were hurled imto the air and feil togethrr, clinging to whatevei they could find - a fl(Xr, a fence - anything to keep aflo-at. At last they climbed to the ridge pole of a house and clung tbere. All night they floated, bruised and cut by heavy objects striking tlK'in. almoet losing their hold many times, but never (juite- tossing, plunging, flying with a speed that was terrible. In the first gray dawn of morning they were rescued. Friendly hands drew them from their perilous position and bore them to a place of safety. Tliere they lay for days unconscious. The shock had been too great - liuman endurance had been too sorely tried. The physicians who dressed their wounds and the nurses who cared for them shook their heads gravely over the young strangers given 80 mercifully into their hands. Richard woke to consclouanesa first, but lay with closed eyes, restlog and tryiiijï to tliiuk why lie was tbere and what had happened. All at once lic heard a volee he and loved. It was Elolse, deleríoua wltih fever. "Richard," she wae saying, "1 love yon now, lloved yon all t he time, bul I did not know it. Richard, did the horrible waters drown you ? O, my darling!" He opened hie eyes and looked aoroes the rooin toward the weak volee dyuiií away into silente. What he saw ivas Eloise lying on tlie snowy cot -tt-ith closed eyes and ílushod cheeks - Kloise pitlíully thin and changed, but Kloise despite the Mreaks oí silver in her dark hair, and the lines of pain on her white brow, left there by the agony of that fatal niglit. Richard, looking at her thus, loved lier all the better for these marks of Korrow; they made her tenfold dearer to him; their mutual distress had welded together their souls forever. It was a very quiet, very brief cereniouy that made them mvn and wife. It avus no time for merrymakIng and rejoieing. Death and poverty were ererywhere. Her father ivaij among tlie lost; the servante were missing; many of her friends were ,none from human sisht forever. Every dollar oi her iather's wealth had iK'en swept iiway. She was penniless. The beautiful home was entirely ilestroyed. Nothing that had been here remataed. Xothiiig slie had loved in the old days was left her. Nothing? Yes, thank God, her husband- her good, brave Richard! They had gone together through that dreadful night, their patlus henceforth through life lay side by side. Eloise was a changed woman. Wbat liad been wrong iu her becanie good. Wïiat liad beeai vaiu and foolish bocamc beautiful aiid pure. Her whole nature was clianged- hor heart ennobled and uplifted, made sweet luid womanly and good. It is no wonder tliat her husband, tenderly Straklng the dark hair witli its streaks ol silver, sniiles and is thankful for her, rejoicing in her as the gift of the flood, which desolated 6O niaii3' hearts - glad and proud that ehe is iu nis home and at his