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Updated: May 19, 2025
I may never know, but it was many moments before she made answer to my slight touch, "Yes, child, I have not forgotten," and with face hidden from me she told me her story. "Alice Axtell was my sister. Eighteen years ago last August-time she was here. "There has been beauty in the Axtell race; in her it was radiant. It would have been truth to say, 'She is beautiful.
"I love the late August-time," said John Gayther, as the two sat down to rest in the summer-house after a long stay in the garden. "I have a singular feeling, which I hope is not irreverent, that the great Creator is pleased with me for having brought this work to perfection, and the thought gives me great peace of mind." "It does sound a little presumptuous, John," said the young lady.
I walked with intrepid mind through the course where others halted, weary, overladen, unfit for burden. "To gain the valedictory oration was one goal that I had said I would attain to. I did. That was nineteen years ago. I came home in the soft, hot, August-time. It was the close of the month. The moon was at its highest flood of light. I was at the highest tide of will-might.
"I said that it was August-time, the twenty-seventh day of the month. Alice and I had been out in the little bay outside of Redcliff beach, with your sister. You don't remember her: she was like you. Doctor Percival had given Mary a boat, taught her to row it, and she had that afternoon given Alice a first lesson in the art.
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