The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1869-11-17

Der morning went TO the city to make some
purchases, to call on some friends, and re-
main at the house of relative until the fol-
lowing day. 1t was one of those mild sum-
msr-hke mornings which sometimes happen
with us even in December, and Mr.. Hillary,
who had walked down the path in front of
the house to open the gate for me, stood
there bareheaded for few moments, the sun
shining full upon his beautiful iron-grey hair
and splendid figure. He kissed his hand to
me and waved me glad goodbye. 1 nodded
my head and said:-'I shall see you early
tomorrow" that is the last ever saw
of Arthur Tlllary.
Upon reaching home next day, Elizabeth
met me at the door.
'Oh, Mrs. Jennison :" she exclaimed, ''did
you meet them?
''Them? Whom ?"
''Mr. Hillary, and his brother-in-law,
ma'am, and two men!"
sank down upon the nearest chair, feel
ing as though the throbbing of my heart
must be heard all over the house, and heard
what Elizabeth had to say From that it APP
peared that the previous evening Mr.. Tillarys
brother-in-law had arrived; that the two
gentlemen had dined together on apparently
good terms, although Mr.. Hillary had at first
evinced symptoms of strong excitement.
After dinner the visitor had sent for some
brandy, and from what Elizabeth said had
no doubts, and still have none, that the
wretch left no means untried to persuade
Mr.. Hillary to take that first glass which, with
his temperament, meant ruin to body and
H. - INo1 1lok
night in a state of profound intoxication. To
what extent he was piled by his brother-in-
law during the night and in the early morn
ing, of course Elizabeth could not say, but
soon after breakfast the villain.left the house,
and only returned in company with two
keepers from the asylum, who had remained
all night at a neighboring hotel, who, under
the brother-in-laws orders, took Mr. Hillary
away with them in the morning, in a state of
deep Inconsistencies, and who, 1 subse-
quently had my reasons to believe, had been
bribed by him for that purpose.
Once, and only once after, met the vii
lain who had so wrested the ends of the law
as to ruin the body and soul of an innocent
man. His name was Fondruth. He was
walking in the street at the time, but in
stantly went up to him, planted myself in his
path, and said:-
''Mr Fondruth, how dare you, have suffered
your brother-in-law, Mr.. Hillary, to become
an inmate of my house that Thanksgiving
Day, well knowing his weakness as you did p
how dare you have behaved to him and me SO
villainously?"
| He looked at me for a moment with his
cold, passionless grey eyes. On the only
other occasion on which L had ever seen him
his language and manners had been those of
perfect gentleman, so that was completely
taken aback by the following answer
sit is your business" he said, never re-
moving his eyes, ''to satisfy yourself as to the
reference of those you take. You should not
have been such fool"
He would have passed on, but detained
him, my hand upon his arm, for was sick
with thinking what might have happened to
an existence with which mine had once been
so intimately, yet so briefly connected, and
which might have become so fair and
peaceful.
''Mr. Tillary, 1 said, 'your brother-in-law
what of him ?"
''Poor Tillary!" he exclaimed, with a
| gloomy smile, in which there was some scorn.
HE is as dead to this world, by this time, as
though he were in the grave. He is a con-
firmed epileptic, my dear Mrs. Jennison. He
passes his life between four walls, and doubt
whether even you could soothe his rawlings
now. Good morning"
And raising his hat, he passed from my
sight, and never saw him again.
But often as Thanksgiving Day comes
round, there float to me tender, fearful
memories of the le-dispositioned, sweet
minded man who might have been SO much,
under different surroundings and more low
ing influences; and 1 cannot but believe
anything to the contrary Notwithstanding
that He who laid aside his Godhead and be-
came human, will yet give poor Arthur Til
larry chance in that better world which we
all hope for.
| DRY GOODS.