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As you sat there with your head in your hand looking at the falls, I deliberately and with malice aforethought took a timed picture, which, if developed, will reveal you exactly as you sat, and which will not show the falls at all." Miss Sommerton walked in silence beside him, and he could not tell just how angry she might be. Finally he said, "I shall destroy that plate, if you order me to."
A crisis may be postponed, but it can rarely be avoided altogether, and knowing he had to face the inevitable sooner or later, the unhappy man, with a sigh, betook himself to the house, where he found his wife impatiently waiting for him. She closed the door and confronted him. "Now, Ed., what's the matter?" "Where's Miss Sommerton?" was the somewhat irrelevant reply. "She has gone to her room.
John Trenton." "Now, stop a moment; do not be too sweeping in your denunciation of him. I know that Mr. Trenton showed the letter to no one." "Why, I thought you said a moment ago that he showed it to you." "He did. Yet no one but himself saw the letter." The young lady sprang to her feet. "Are you, then, John Trenton, the artist?" "Miss Sommerton, I have to plead guilty."
Mason," said Miss Sommerton, "if you would rather not tell " "Oh, but I must; that is, I want you to know." He glanced at his wife, but there was no help there, so he plunged in headlong. "To tell the truth, there is a friend of mine who wants to go to the falls tomorrow. He sails for Europe immediately, and has no other day." The Boston rigidity perceptibly returned.
There was a moment or two of silence, broken only by the regular dip of the paddle, then Miss Sommerton said, "If you wish to desecrate this lovely spot by smoking, I presume anything I can say will not prevent you." Trenton was amazed at the rudeness of this reply, and his face flushed with anger. Finally he said, "You must have a very poor opinion of me!"
"Catch hold of me!" cried Trenton. "Catch hold of my coat; I need both hands." Miss Sommerton, who had acted with commendable bravery throughout, did as she was directed. Trenton, with his released hand, worked himself slowly up the branch, hand over hand, and finally catching a sapling that grew close to the water's edge, with a firm hold, reached down and helped Miss Sommerton on the bank.
Miss Sommerton made no reply, until they were nearly at the canoe. Then she looked up at him with a smile, and said, "I think it a pity to destroy any pictures you have had such trouble to obtain." "Thank you, Miss Sommerton," said the artist. He helped her into the canoe in the gathering dusk, and then sat down himself. But neither of them saw the look of anxiety on the face of the elder boatman.
That is the first sentence of the letter, but the address is some number which I cannot quite see, 'Beacon Street, Boston. Is there any such street in that city?" "There is," said Miss Sommerton. "What a question to ask." "Ah, then Beacon Street is one of the principal streets, is it?" "One of them? It is the street. It is Boston." "Very good. I will now proceed with the letter.
She leaned out of the window and saw Colonel Sommerton walking down the road towards town, with his cigar elevated at an acute angle with his nose, his hat pulled well down in front, by which she knew that he was still excited.
Mason received the letter from Miss Sommerton, stating the time the young woman intended to pay her visit to the Shawenegan, she gave the letter to her husband, and reminded him of the necessity of keeping the canoe for that particular date. As the particular date was some weeks off, and as Ed.
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