The Argosy — page 341: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

322 Caroline Heath. She had gone down to the banks of the river, which in its strong current was just there almost like a sea, and seated herself on a bench which was close to its brink, the bank rising behind her. The water was running along swift and sure, just as runs away our life. If Caroline had never prayed earnestly before, she did then, as she sat there thinking. She prayed that God, who saw all her heart’s dis- tress, would help her in the battle she was fighting. It was a very hard one. She loved George Rochester with all the strength of a first passion, and he loved another! Should she be able to bear it, and live? There came a sudden splash, a wild scream. Looking up, Caroline saw at a distance something gold and azure in the water. It was Grace Ormby. In reaching over the bank for some pale blue- bells which grew there, she had overbalanced herself and fallen in. Caroline sprang up to go to her rescue—if indeed she might be able to accomplish it. A horrible thought surged into her mind: it Grace died—was drowned—she could no longer stand between her- self and George Rochester. She drove the demon away with a cry for pardon. ‘‘ God help me and her! We both need it.” Running swiftly along, she came opposite the spot where the girl was struggling. Clinging to the drooping branch of a willow, she waded in a yard or two, and was just in time to catch the floating blue drapery as Grace was sweeping past. Miss Ormby retained her consciousness, and clung to Caroline with all the tenacity of the drowning. “Tf you hold me like that I cannot save you,” called out Caroline through the noise of the water surging in their ears. ‘‘ Loose me, and I will get you to the bank.” : It was as if she spoke to the wind. In her terror, the drowning girl only clung the tighter. Caroline was dragged in. ‘The next mo- ment Grace dropped her hold, perhaps with the force of the water, and Caroline felt herself carried away by the current. She looked up at the blue of the evening sky, the gold and crimson sunset her last look, she believed, of this world. She had sunk twice, when the strong arm of a powerful swimmer closed round her and bore her to the shore. He held her to him for a moment as she lay there; his lips were lifted to God in thanks- giving. It was George Rochester. “Go to Grace; save fer: you should not have minded me,” spoke Caroline faintly, when she was recovering. ‘*Hush, my dear. Compose yourself. Grace is all right. Yow saved her. Your last effort before floating away, was to fling her close to the bank, and she caught the willow branch. Our party—we were all not far off—are bearing her away to the nearest house to get her into dry clothes. Yes, you saved Grace, and now, my darling, I have saved you.” She was frightfully ungrateful, She was thinking in her mind’s ECOMMICOOOKS».E@ im