" you were the most charming woman I had ever seen I naturally want to lose in frivolities you at your word, I followed your advice, I asked you to marry me, and delightful result--what's the matter ? "

Margaret had started suddenly, and her hand tightened on my arm An old woman was coming up the path, and was close before we saw her, moon had risen, and was shining full faces The woman turned out my old nurse

"It's only Judith, dear--don't be frightened," Then I spoke Welshwoman: " you about, Judith ? been feeding the Woman Water ? "

"Aye-- clock strikes, Willie--my Lord, I mean," muttered the old creature, drawing aside to pass, and fixing her strange eyes on Margaret's face

"What does she mean ? " asked Margaret, when we had gone by

"Nothing, darling The old thing is mildly crazy, but good soul "

We went on in silence for , and came rustic bridge just above the artificial grotto through which the water ran out park, dark and swift in its narrow channel We stopped, and leaned wooden rail The moon was now behind us, and shone full long vista of basins and huge walls and towers Castle above

"How proud you grand old place ! " said Margaret, softly

" yours now, darling," I answered " as good right to love it as I--but I only love it because to live , dear "

Her hand stole out and lay on mine, and we were both silent Just then the clock began to strike far off tower I counted-- eight--nine--ten--eleven--I looked at my watch--twelve--thirteen--I laughed The bell went on striking

"The old clock has gone crazy, like Judith," I exclaimed Still it went on, note after note ringing out monotonously still air We leaned over the rail, instinctively looking direction whence the sound came On and went I counted nearly hundred, out of sheer curiosity, for I understood that something had broken and thing was running itself down

Suddenly crack as of breaking wood, cry and heavy splash, and alone, clinging broken end rail rustic bridge

I hesitated while my pulse beat twice I sprang clear bridge black rushing water, dived bottom, came up again with empty hands, turned and swam downward grotto thick darkness, plunging and diving at every stroke, striking my head and hands against jagged stones and sharp corners, clutching at last something in my fingers and dragging it up with all my might I spoke, I cried aloud, but no answer alone pitchy darkness with my burden, house was five hundred yards away Struggling still, the ground beneath my feet, ray of moonlight- -the grotto widened, deep water became broad and shallow brook as I stumbled over the stones and at last laid Margaret's body bank park beyond

"Aye, Willie, clock struck ! " said the voice of Judith, the Welsh nurse, as she bent down and looked white face The old woman turned back and followed us, seen the accident, and slipped out lower gate garden "Aye," she groaned, " fed the Woman Water this night, Willie, while the clock was striking "

I scarcely heard her as I knelt beside the lifeless body woman I loved, chafing the wet white temples and gazing wildly wide-staring eyes I remember only the first returning look of consciousness, the first heaving breath, the first movement dear hands stretching out toward me

much of story, you say story life all It pretend anything else Old Judith says my luck turned summer's night when struggling water to save all that was worth living for month later stone bridge above the grotto, and Margaret and I stood and looked up moonlit Castle, had done once before, and as since For all those things happened ten last summer, and tenth Christmas Eve spent together roaring logs old hall, talking of old times; and every year more old times of curly-headed boys, too, with red-gold hair and dark-brown eyes like their mother's, and little Margaret, with solemn black eyes like mine Why she look like her mother, too, rest ?

The world is very bright glorious Christmas time, and perhaps little use in calling up the sadness of , unless it be to jolly firelight seem more cheerful, the good wife's face look gladder, and the children's laughter merrier ring, by contrast with all gone Perhaps, too, some sad-faced, listless, melancholy youth, who feels world is very hollow, life is like perpetual funeral service, just as I used myself, may take courage from my example, and having found the woman heart, ask her to marry him after half an hour's acquaintance But, whole, advise any man to marry, simple reason that no man will ever find wife like mine, and being obliged farther, necessarily fare worse My wife miracles, but assert that woman is able her example

Margaret always said old place was beautiful, I proud of it I dare say right She has even more imagination than I But good answer and plain one, this,--that all the beauty Castle comes from her She has breathed upon it all, children blow cold glass window panes in winter; and as their warm breath crystallizes into landscapes from fairyland, full of exquisite shapes and traceries blank surface, so her spirit has transformed every gray stone old towers, every ancient tree and hedge gardens, every thought in my once melancholy self All that was old is young, and all that was sad is glad, and the gladdest of all Whatever heaven , no earthly paradise without woman, nor anywhere place so desolate, so dreary, so unutterably miserable that woman cannot make it seem heaven man she loves and who loves her

I hear certain cynics laugh, and cry that all that said before laugh, my good cynic too small man to laugh at such great thing as love Prayers said before now by many, and perhaps you say yours, too they lose anything by being repeated, nor you by repeating them You say world is bitter, and full Waters of Bitterness Love, and so live that loved--the world will turn sweet , and you shall rest like me Waters of Paradise

From "The Play-Actress Upper Berth," by F Marion Crawford Copyright, 1896, by G P Putnam's Sons