001 THE WEST SHORE.
it swept almost to her dimpled feet, and The lovely face grew radiant at his
clang to her beautiful form as though words; she drew closer, and murmuring
jealously striving to conceal the loveli- " Love knows no obligation," twined her
ness it succeeded in enhancing. She soft arms about him, and drew him, re
looked at him with eyes blue and deep sistless, into the cool shadows of her
as limpid wells, and Stanley stood en- cavern palace,
raptured-entranced. She smiled, and
a flame leaped up within him, for which Was it weeks, months, or years, that
ho sought not to find a name. elapsed while the recreant knight of the
" Come, love, come," she murmured, quill lay dreaming the hours away, in
and sprang to the sun-lit shore. She the enchanted island of rest? He could
clung to his hand and led him, a willing not tell; he kept no note of time; he
captive, over the sands and up the cool, only knew that the days drifted by like
green slope of her island domain, a string of shining pearls, and when, at
Winding, flower-bordered pathways led last, there came a pearl that somehow
through the bewildering mazes of trop- seemed less perfect than its predeces
ical verdure; bright-plumaged birds sang sors, he scarcely realized it, but won
and swayed on the waving palms; rills dered, in a dreamy way, what it was that
of cool, clear water tinkled across the jarred upon his senses, and pricked Tin
path at every turn, while a subtle fra- comfortably somewhere in his inner con
grance permeated the atmosphere, and sciousness. What was it that made him
sweet Holian music swelled and throbbed turn from his downy couch, from the
with every passing breeze, thrilling the clinging arms of his sweet captor, and
senses and lulling the tired spirit to re- ask for a book?
pose. Hundreds of hammocks swung "A book!" she echoed, opening her
temptingly amid the cool shadows of the dreamy eyes in sudden alarm. "A
trees, and Stanley observed that many book! Dost think we have books in the
of them were tenanted by graceful, sun- land of dokc far nicntcf Books are evil
tinted nymphs, as lovely as the being at things, and not in accord with the spirit
his side. Trees, laden with 6trange, de- that rules here. They arouse the intel
licious fruits, hung low, and cushioned lect, stir the brain to action, acd stimu
boats rocked invitingly on miniature late poor, foolish humanity into doing
lakes. many absurd and useless things. In all
" Well, how do you like it all? How my fair dominion there is no book, nor
aro you impressions? Of what are you anything else that is, in the slightest de
thinking?" finally demanded his fair gree, an emblem of toil or disquietude."
companion, as she paused near the " But," ho said, hesitatingly, " I won
arched entrance to a glittering cavern in der what you do to pass the time away ? "
tho hillside. " You wonder what we do? " she echoed
" Thinking? " cried ho, as his glowing again. " Why, love, have you forgotten
eyes sought hers. " Oh, I can not think; that this is the land of ' sweet idleness? '
I am lost is wonder, intoxicated with We do nothing; we do not pass the time
beauty, and tingling in every vein with awy; we let it pass itself."
a delicious sense of obligation to tho " Oh, pardon me; I had forgotten," he
lovely one who has transported me from said slowly, and very quietly,
a realm of toil and strife and weariness, But, somehow, he failed to see the
to this fair haven of rest, this heaven on arms held caressingly toward him. He
earth." left her and wandered away alono, and