Chapter 4 - Page 2

was
teaching her, he looked up to see his wife standing on the green slope
before him. A black lace scarf lay over her blonde hair as Spanish women
wear their veils, below it the violet eyes shone clear, the cheek glowed
with the color fresh winds had blown upon their paleness, the lips
parted with a wistful smile, and a knot of bright-hued leaves upon her
bosom made a mingling of snow and fire in the dress, whose white folds
swept the grass. Against a background of hoary cliffs and somber pines,
this figure stood out like a picture of blooming womanhood, but Manuel
saw three blemishes upon it--Gilbert had sketched her with that shadowy
veil upon her head, Gilbert had swung himself across a precipice to
reach the scarlet nosegay for her breast, Gilbert stood beside her with
her hand upon his arm; and troubled by the fear that often haunted him
since Pauline's manner to himself had grown so shy and sad, Manuel
leaned and looked forgetful of reply, but Mrs. Redmond answered
blithely:

"He is coming, but with me. You are too grave for us, so go your ways,
talking wisely of heaven and earth, while we come after, enjoying both
as we gather lichens, chase the goats, and meet you at the waterfall.
Now señor, put away guitar and book, for I have learned my lesson; so
help me with this unruly hair of mine and leave the Spanish for today."

They looked a pair of lovers as Manuel held back the long locks blowing
in the wind, while Babie tied her hat, still chanting the burthen of the
tender song she had caught so soon. A voiceless sigh stirred the ruddy
leaves on Pauline's bosom as she turned away, but Gilbert embodied it in
words, "They are happier without us. Let us go."

Neither spoke till they reached the appointed tryst. The others were not
there, and, waiting for them, Pauline sat on a mossy stone, Gilbert
leaned against the granite boulder beside her, and both silently
surveyed a scene that made the heart glow, the eye kindle with delight
as it swept down from that airy height, across valleys dappled with
shadow and dark with untrodden forests, up ranges of majestic mountains,
through gap after gap, each hazier than the last, far out into that sea
of blue which rolls around all the world. Behind them roared the
waterfall swollen with autumn rains and hurrying to pour itself into the
rocky basin that lay boiling below, there to leave its legacy of
shattered trees, then to dash itself into a deeper chasm, soon to be
haunted by a tragic legend and go glittering away through forest, field,
and intervale to join the river rolling slowly to the sea. Won by the
beauty and the grandeur of the scene, Pauline forgot she was not alone,
till turning, she suddenly became aware that while