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on, wasting my life over a mere myth! Why, I don’t even know that
the girl ever existed. This may be but an ideal face. And yet,
Oh, well, what’s the use of talking? I know I will never make any
woman my wife until I find one who has a face like my ‘lady of the
dollar,’ and he slipped the coin back in its resting place, to resume
his fishing.
His mind had wandered from his sport, however, and he recalled
the night when, hurrying home from his club—having taken a fancy to
walk—he had found a “trade dollar’’ on the pavement. Ashe picked
it up, one side opened, and his eager eyes fell upon the face he was
never to forget—that of his “lady of the dollar.” He was only
eighteen then, just at an age when impressions are most easily made.
Then and there he registered a vow never to marry until he found
the original of that picture, or a woman who resembled the lovely
face. During the years which followed he had met many women,
beautiful, rich, accomplished; women of almost every nationality;
women with golden hair and blue eyes without number; yet none of
them possessed that nameless charm—that sweet, nameless charm of
his “lady of the dollar!”
So far from his surroundings did his truant thoughts wander, that
even the trout recognized that the man at the other end of the rod
was not attending to business, and boldly nibbled off the bait under
his very eyes. At last he shook his broad shoulders and began to
gather together his possessions, when a shrill scream rang through
the woods. Philip jumped up, every sense alert. Again and again
came th at call:
“Help, help, help!”
It seemed to come from the opposite side of the stream; the young
man ran back a few rods, then, pausing at the water’s edge, he jumped
for the other side—his desire to hasten to the aid of the person in
danger enabling him to make a record which would have done credit to
a professional. Again the forth, and he rushed on, feeling
that he had never before realized flie importance of his athletic training.
Practice “on the track’ with his club team had made him one of the
best amateur sprinters in the country, but he felt now as though
weighted down with ch. ins, for the voice was growing fainter as the
cries came to his ears: *
“Help, help, oh, help m».”
“Coming, coming, don’t give up,” he returned, and crashing
through the undergrowth in the direction of the cries, he came sud
denly upon a scene which made his blood boil with anger.
Standing beneath the spreading branches of an oak tree, was a
young girl, clad in soft, white garments, which outlined a figure as
graceful as that of a fawn. Before her, in the path, stood atypical
tramp —dirty, ragged and disgustingly repulsive. As he heard
Philip’s footsteps he turned to run, but the young man sprang for
ward, caught him by his remnant of a collar, administered a thor
ough kicking, and ended with the advice that he leave that locality at
once. Then he turned just in time to catch the graceful form of the girl
in his arms as she sank fainting to the ground. As she fell, her hair,
loosened from its fastenings, covered her like a mantle of gold, which
the sunbeams turned into a flame of living fire. Gently as a woman,
Philip bore the unconscious girl to the bank of the stream, and bathed
her white face until color began to return to the rounded cheeks; then
the blue eyes opened and a sweet voice asked:
“What is the matter?”
Philip, looking at her, smiling reassuringly, suddenly staggered as
though he had received a blow. Before him, half lying on the soft,
green grass, with her rich golden hair about her, with her cheeks
flushed and her deep blue eyes aglow with the innocent light of a girl
unspoiled and untainted of the world, was his “lady of the dollar.”
bo overcome was he by this discovery, that he could only look at
her; but when terror crept into the eyes and the flush began to die
away in her cheeks as she remembered her late peril, he knelt beside
her and said gently: _
“Try to forget what happened. You are safe now.”
“And that horrible man?”
“Is settled with.”
Her lovely eyes closed, and she lay quite still for a moment; then,
raising herself, she said softly:
“You saved me from him. He threatened to kill me.”
“It is a happiness to have been permitted to serve you,’’and in the
amazement which he saw in her sweet face, Philip knew that no man
had ever spoken to her or looked at her as he did.
She laughed a sweet, childish laugh; then gathering the great
masses of hair in her tiny hands, she began to restore them to order,
although the young man longed to have her leave them in their artis
tic confusion.
“Please come home with me and let Mamma thank you for pro
tecting me from that terrible man. There has been a tramp in the
neighborhood, but I never thought he would trouble me. Mamma
has warned me not to wander off by myrelf this way,” and she looked
very dainty and pretty, peeping up shyly at him through her glorious
hair again turned to flame by a stray sunbeam.
“May I introduce myself?” Philip asked, handing her his card.
Again the young girl laughed, and her sweet ripple of merriment re
minded Philip of the trill of a bird.
WOMAN’S WORK.
“I haven’t any card, but I’ll present my name here,” and, taking
up a twig, she wrote in the soft earth:
“Phillis Carson.”
A feeling of rapture came over the young man; even their first
names were similar.
Having subdued her hair, Phillis jumped to her feet, with the
grace of a child, and, smiling up into his face, asked if he would go
home with her to receive her mother’s thanks. Entirely forgetting
his traps upon the opposite bank, Philip followed the dainty young
girl across several fields, to a charming little cottage which nestled
against a hill, half buried in roses.
“We stay here every summer,” Phillis explained; “that is, Mam
ma and I do. Papa has to keep at his office most of the time.”
While she was speaking a lady appeared at the door, and no sec
ond glance was needed to prove that she was the mother of the charm
ing girl. With many interruptions from her mother, Phillis intro
duced her escort and told the story of her rescue. The name of her
daughter’s protector was well known to Mrs. Carson; he was warmly
welcomed and pressed to make the cottage his home while remaining
in the neighborhood. Philip was strongly tempted, but politely de
clined, adding that if he might call frequently and enjoy their socie
ty he would be under many obligations.
Knowing who he was, and feeling grateful to him, Mrs. Carson
felt no hesitancy in making her invitation a very cordial one, but as
the days drifted into weeks, and Philip Reinhart still lingered—spend
ing the happy, dreamy hours with her daughter—she began to doubt
the wisdom of her action. The young man was desirable in every
way, but she knew that he was regarded as anything but a marrying
man; yet she saw the soft blushes mount to Phillis’s tinted cheeks,
the love-light dawn in her eyes, and she knew that the girl’s love was
won.
These signs, however, did not appear to Philip, and he was some
times in despair of ever winning his ideal. At last, one evening
when the three were sitting on the vine-clad porch, he ventured to
tell the story of the trade dollar. Mrs. Carson listened to his account,
then asked to see it. As she looked at the face, her own flushed a
little in the moonlight, and she said gently:
“This is a picture of mine,” and she sighed. “A very dear friend
had it made of me, and put it in a trade dollar so he might carry it
without being detected. ”
“Papa?”
“No, dear, a boy lover, from whom I was parted. Neither of us
had any money, and so our parents decided we must not marry. He
was sent abroad, and died many years ago.”
“And you, Mamma?”
I? Oh, I married Papa six months afterwards, and he has made
me very happy, Still, that coin awakens memories.” As she fin
ished speaking, Mrs. Carson turned and hastened into the~house.
Happy as had been her married life, that little picture recalled the
bright face of her boyish lover, and her despair at parting from him.
The young people sat silent for some minutes, then Philip asked
softly:
“Come down in the yard and walk about; I am restless to-night
and sitting still seems impossible.” ’
Without a word she complied, and they walked back and forth in
the moonlight; then Phillis murmured:
“I don’t see how Mamma could have done it ”
“What?”
“Forgotten the other one, and married.”
“Would you ever forget, Phillis, if you loved?”
“No, I could not.”
“Neither could I. Indeed, I have not. Phillis, I was only eigh
teen when I found that; not much older than you are now. As many
years have passed since then, and yet I did not forget this sweet face
and I resolved to search the world over until I found the original ” ’
Another silence ensued; then the young girl said, in a voice hardly
to be recognized as her own:
“And now to find her married.”
“Oh, yes, your mother! Butthen, Phillis, she does not seem the
original.”
“She doesn’t?”
“Certainly not. Just look at it,” opening the little case, and
holding it up so that the moonlight fell upon the pictured face.
“It is you, all over again; the lovely face, the glorious hair, the
true eyes, and ”
“Please don’t,” holding up a tiny hand in protest.
“My darling, I have found the original of my ‘lady of the dollar.’
May Y possess the original?” and he gazed tenderly into the sweet face.
“Answer me, sweetheart, for I have waited for you during so many
years. ”
Phillis hesitated a moment; then, placing a soft, white hand on
either shoulder of her lover, and looking up into his face, she whispered:
“Do you need any further answer?” and as she was gathered to his
heart, he knew that at last he had met with the ideal of his dreams,
and not only his “lady of the dollar,” but the woman necessary to his
life and happiness.
MAY, 1903.