Democratic Sentinel, Volume 16, Number 26, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 15 July 1892 — A WOMAN'S INFLUENCE [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

A WOMAN'S INFLUENCE

BY LULU JAMISON

CHAPTER 11. THE COUSINS. On the southeastern coast of Nantucket Island is situated the little town of Siasconset, formerly a Ashing hamlet, founded by brave and hardy men, who built their box-like cabins on the bold bluff rising from this dangerous coast, and wrested from its waters their harvests of cod and pollock. For two centuries this place had an uneventful, unprogressive existence, but lately the hand of improvement has touched it. and under the modernizing influence, it is gradually tending towards the realization of that muchabused thing, a summer resort. To the world In general, it is still comparatively unknown, but to those fortunate enough to have spent a summer beneath the inspiration of its life-giving air, its charming, unconventional features afford a theme for never-ending praise. Margaret chanced to hear of this odd bit of creation, and longing for something out of the ordinary run, decided to try its unconventional freedom, notwithstanding the season and Miss Hilton’s advice. She had not been very well during the winter, and the doctor, discovering a general breaking down, had prescribed change of scene and air as the most effective medicine.' Margaret cheerfully agreed with him, and very gladly availed herself of this opportunity to escape for a time the unSleasant notoriety which her late ineritance had given her, and the more than friendly overtures of politic Cornelias, with ambitious, matrimonial hopes for their respective jewels. She did not realize Miss Hilton’s fear by regretting her selection of S’conset. She found it both novel and delightful. Its unique features amply atoned for Its dullness, and with much to fill her days she could not complain of monotony. There were pleasant walks along wellkept roads or across the moors, whose swelling undulations of rich ooloring were scarcely less impressive than the ocean itself. Of the sea she could never tire. Whatever its mood, the 1 broad expanse of lonely waters appealed to her with a fascination which only Its lovers understand. The old houses, many of which had heard the storms of two centuries and gave ample evidence of the fact, contributed another element of variety. How many delightful hours she had spent in their cozy interiors, climbing shaky ladders doing duty for steps, to bump her head against the rafters of funny little attics, hunting out the bits of furniture which looked so ridiculously large in comparison with the rooms they occupied, or sitting in the tall, spindlelegged chairs before the broad Are-place watching the burning logs and listening to tales of danger and adventure upon the sea. She loved nothing better than to pore over the log books and follow in imagination the whaling expeditions of other and more prosperous days. And the old captains, in whoso odd ways and quaint sayings she took such amused interest, were always happy to spin their yarns for such appreciative ears. Thus she speedily grew in public favor. She helped Aunt Maria to make bread and bake beans, and ate her full share of them afterward. She delighted old Captain Baxter by pretending to believe his unconscionable tales, and she produced such an impression on Captain Morris that he gallantly and unblushingly declared she was the kind of girl he liked. She was really and thoroughly enjoying herse f. let, notwithstanding, Mi-s Hilton, wh se preconceived notions were not to be removed, o mtinued to write doleful letters, in which sympathy for Margaret in her supposed dreary surroundings was largely predominant. Renting one of these commiserating notes on the beach one afternoon, Margaret could not refrain from smiling as she compared her actual surroundings with those pictured by the writer. The day was exceptionally, Ane, clear, and warm, the bright sun and soft winds seeming to hold the promise of early summer. The sea. so often wild upon this dangerous coas', was unusually calm, and the waves rolled in with languid rhythmic unison, a quivering sweep of blue waters, breaking into a curl of foam upon the high, broad beach. From the bold bluff looking out upon the restless ocean to the wave-washed horizon rose the little village, a marvel of quaint, picturesque beauty, with its much-shingled cottages of curious design m l still more curious architecture. Beyond lay a broad expanse of moor, rising into a range of low-lying hills, and further still the distant sparkle of the sea. Over all a cloudless S’consrt sky, and the promise of a glorious sunset. Lying at full length on the beach, Margaret enjoyed the calm serenity of the scene about her. But she va r not left long in undisturbed quiet. The current of her thoughts was rather rudely diverted from Miss Hilton and her letter to the spectacle of her hat sailing gracefully up the beach under the impulse of a gust raised for the occasion. With an exclamation more forcible than elegant, she sprang to her feet and hastened in pursuit, until she was brought to a breathless standstill by a very audible “Hello!” And the next second a head, followed immediately by the body of a young man, made itself visible from behind one of the numerous dories lining the beach. “Oh!” cried Margaret, somewhat startled and wondering whether the sudden apparition had fallen from the clouds or ascended from the sand. "I beg your pardon,” remarked this very much alive apparition, surprised in his turn, and displaying a remarkable activity in getting on his feet. “I’ve been asfhep. Didn’t know a soul was around. Hope I haven’t frightened you.” “Oh, no! you are not very formidable, only—” “You didn’t expect to see me,” he put In with a quizzical light in the laughing brown eyes, which Margaret found strangely familiar. "I dare say he thinks I’m overcome with delight,” was her inward comment; accompanied with some slight resentment, a feeling soon dispelled by another glance in the frank, handsome face. “He is certainly good-looking,” she told herself, as a result of this brief scrutiny. “I wonder how under heaven he found his way here. I must And out. “Strangers are real curiosities at this season, * she s«Mi aloud, partly following

up her own thought and partly replying to a remark of his. “There are no visitors here, only the Ashermen and their wives, and a limited supply of children. ” “I know; awful prosy, isn’t it? I’d die in no time. You are different, though.” “Yes, and while I’ve been wasting my time in talking, my hat is gone.” “So it has. Indeed, I’m awfully sorry.” His eye followed hers to the hat rising and falling on an outgoing wave. “Was it valuable?” “Cost Afty cents,” she replied, endeavoring to preserve her gravity. “I suppose it has gone'for good, and I might as well be going home.” “Oh, no! don’t!” he entreated, with boyish eagerness. “I’m awfully tired of my own company.” “Candid, upon my word. I’ll stay a little while, but really I don’t feel that I should." Margaret might well question the propriety of her action. She felt convinced that Miss Hilton would not approve this conAdential manner with a stranger, but there were times, she felt, when a suggestion of impropriety is the spice which gives a variety to life. This was one of them. She intended to follow out the line of conduct proposed to herself when she came to this new world, as it were, namely, to do as she pleased. J ust now she pleased to stay and talk with this young man, for whom'she felt an unaccountable liking. She had some curiosity to discover his name, and his reasons for visiting S’conset. In some way she felt she had seen his face before. While she was thus thinking and knitting her brow over this vague resemblance, he was watching her face with a scrutinizing interest. Glancing up, she met his eyes, and Anding its humor contagious, she was soon laughing as merrily as he. “We are better acquainted now,” he cried gayly, while she wondered at her capacity for nonsense. “If you want to know a person just laugh with thepi. That’s my theory. Not that I should be laughing, though.- Crying would better suit my condition in this vale of tears. Won’t you sit down, Miss ” “Smith,” supplemented Margaret, giving him the name she had assumed. “Smith; you don’t look like a Smith. But I’m glad it isn’t Coffin or Folger. You are not a native, I know. Please sit here. You’ll And it ever so comfortable. Only a triAe rocky. Do they Ash in these things?" “In these dories? Oh, yes; it is ever so interesting to watch them. ” “Well, I shouldn’t And the pastime so amusing. Is that how you manage to exist In this God-forsaken hole?” “Evidently you don’t appreciate nature,” she remarked, in rather unAattering tones, as she took possession of the sest he offered her. “No. I appreciate the comforts of civilized life more. I’m not a romantic kind of animal, you see. I’m tired of this already. Only came this morning, too. I’ve been In Nantucket a week. Hauled up there to see an antediluvian aunt of my mother's. She got it into her head that she couldn’t exist without a sight of my manly countenance, so ” “You had compassion on her?”

“Yes; that was it. It is her fault I’m here to-day. She talked of S’conset until I thought it was second heaven; but I haven’t seen anything here yet ” He added the last word by way of qualification, and gave Margaret an interrogative glance. ■ “I suppose not," was her tranquil reply, “unless you saw it in dreams. You should have chosen a livelier season. It is perfectly charming in the summer. Now, things are inclined to be slow.” “Rather," he agreed readily. “Horses in the bargain. The brute that hauled me from Nantucket stopped every Ave minutes to get his breath. It was wearying on my patienoe, I assure you. And the old captain who drove mo was more wearying than the horse.- The stories he expected me to swallow were an Insult to my intelligence. I think this air must breed captains, they are so wonderfully proliAo. Every blessed man I’ve met is a captain, or would have been if the whale Asheries had kept up. I’ve been trying to hunt up the ordinary sailors.” “Perhaps sailors were not in vogue on whaling vessels,” suggested Margaret, with utmost gravity. “ Captain Pitman says ” “That’s another peculiarity,” he Interrupted abruptly, “their names. Did you ever hear anything to beat it? Wretchedly monotonous to hear Coffin, Folger. and Pitman, Pitman, Folger and Coffin.” “ ‘There’s nothing in a name,’ ” quoted Margaret, lightly. “A mistake altogether. A name means everything. Take mine, for instance — Brian Leigh. Now, the Brian part What’s the matter?” He might well ask this question, for without the least warning Margaret had slipped hastily from her seat, on the boat, and stood regarding him with a curious blending of perplexity and surprise. ‘‘Brian Leigh,” she replied, in an incredulous tone; “is it really Brian Leigh?” “I have always understood so,” he answered with a laugh and a puzzled glance at her face. “I don’t see how I can be mistaken.” “I am very foolish,” she remarked, anxious to divert his suspicions, while she still regarded him rather curiously, though with a newer and deeper interest. She understood now the strange resemblance unexplained before. Something in the eyes and mouth recalled vague memories of her father, and this likeness, faint as it was, served to awaken new feelings in her breast. She wanted to be alone to think of this new and unexpected turn of affairs. She was not given to superstition, but the coincidence of their meeting in this out-of-the-way place seemed too curious to be merely coincidence; yet, as such she must accept it What would Miss Hilton say? Should she tell her? No. Should she tell her cousin that she was the Margaret who had taken his fortune from him? No, again; and she could give herself no reason for these decisions. “It is certainly strange that we should be thrown together,” 6he remarked to herself when she had left Brian a few minutes later. “I almost wish he would not go back to Nantucket to-night. If he should stay here a few days I might have an opportunity to study his character. He doesn’t seem to be muoh troubled. No depth- of feeling, I’m afraid. He acts more like a silly-college boy. I think I was rather silly, too. I’m really ashamed of myself. Well, I’ll await developments.” Margaret dreamed of her cousin that night, and rose next morning still thinking of him. CHAITKKIII. * ON THE SANDS .AT S’CONSET The day came in damp and chilly. The sun refused to make his appearance, and the heavy fog hanging over the sea crept stealthily inland until the outlines of the village were lost in its subtle, mysterious folds. Margaret viewed the landscape from the conAned (pace of her bed-room window. “Damp,” she commented. “I dare say

I shall be drowned ia this mist, but out I intend to go, nevertheless." True to her word, she put on rubber cloak, boots, and cap, and, feeling comparatively water-proof, started for the deserted beach. The mist had lifted somewhat, but the sea was very high, and the gulls flew over the rolling surf like tiny dots upon the gray horizon. Margaret’s eye followed their graceful motion as they dipped their wings to the seething waves, or rose with sweeping course to pursue their onward flight. “How provoking,” she exclaim'ed. “I did think that glorious sunset meant nioe weather to-day. I suppose it is rather wicked to wish for sunshine when old Captain Pitman wants rain to fill his cistern. It would puzzle God to please everybody. I wonder if those gulls foretell a storm. I haven’t the least idea about the direction of the wind. Let me see: that is the east over there, and that is the north, and Well, I declare!" In locating the points of the compass, her eye had encountered her cousin, and he, seeing her at the same moment, began to make the best of his way to join her, waving his arms spasmodically meanwhile. When he reached her finally he was quite breathless. “Quite hard work, isn’t it?” said Margaret, as he stood panting before her. “The sand is ( so soft and yielding." “I should say so. I believe I have a peck of it in my shoes. Did you come down here to kill yourself, or merely for the pleasure of seeing one trudge over that sand.” “I didn’t come for the first object, certainly; and as for the second, it really didn’t enter my mind. I have a very contrary nature. I like the things that most people dislike. For instance, I revel in rain and dampness. I love to go out in a pouring shower. It doesn’t hurt me, either. I’m abnormally healthy.” “And abnormally imprudent,” he added. “If I had any authority, you shouldn’t sit here.” “But you haven’t any authority, and I have an unusual prejudice in favor of my own way. Why didn’t you go to Nantucket last night? Is it possible you have managed to survive so long in this God-forsaken hole?” Brian caught the spico of mischief in these words. “I thought I’d stay a few days,” he explained, in answer. “Dreaded the ride back, too. I haven't any ambition to be fretted to death in thoso ruts. Besides I wanted to And what interests you here. ” He threw himself beside her and Axed his eyes upon her face. She moved restlessly under this scrutiny. [TO BK CONTINUED.J