The Portland daily press., 1879-09-24

was gracious and mildly interesting. More
over. she has an undeniable ankle; l know
this because she flirts more with her teet
than with her eyes. In more respects than
one l ain a man of acute observation
So fortnight passed; we had reached the
first week of August, and still Lady DaWhsh
had not made up her mind where 10 go lor
the next month. Sybil hated Limerick, IN
which county they possessed a small country
house, and Lady Dawlish objected 10 HON.
burg. SybiFs paradise, as too expensive.
Pending a definite resolution, they remained
in town One obstacle to my comfort was
removed. Charlie Temple had taken him
self away.
poor boy!' said Lady Dawlisl one even
ing referring to him. 'He is very fond of
Sybil. as [ dare say you know, Mr.. Killjoy,
but what can do? He has only $500
" ar and his pay, and have told Sybil over
and over again positively can't increase
her portion CT e10,000. The attachment, of
course, is absurd for cannot afford to keep
a son-in-law, however nice he may be.
sympathized " it'll her ladyship as deeply
as | was able.
II have no right to bore you with family
troubles, Mr. Kilioy, but it is so pleasant to
have friend in whose discretion you can
RELY, and we poor women sadly want advice
and support"
Iconsoled her. and suggested all sorts OF
wild and impossible schemes for the amelio-
ration of humanity generally and herself par
ticularly.
always good and thoughtful, dear Mr.;
Kiljoy," and her ladyship pressed my hand
Jove! how had wronged this woman! |
had thought her willy and worldly; found
her pure, womanly, tender, appreciative,
| called at Park street all the oftener after
this little scene, andspent quiet evenings
from $50 till II over chess and weak tea
$50 much better for young pan than a
club" as Lady Dawlish observed.
Thus found myself drifting into matri-
mony: for though never was passionately
attached to Sybil, fel that the tepid regard
which | bore her might ripen into good fell
lowship, and that her position and family
were matters which no well-conducted man
in my station of life could afford to disre-
gard. True, she never eXerted herself to
convince me that had gained any mastery
over her virgin affections, and, with the eX-
ception of that popularity before alluded to,
she laid no violent siege either to my vanity
OF my heart.
Still things could not go on like this for
ever. My visits could not be prompted
either by mere civility or anxiety as to the
physical and moral condition of the Dawlish
street would be noticed-was noticed very
likely, and some termination must be arrived
at Should Iimplore the Honorable Sybil to
marry me. or should / ask Olivia, or, hap
pier thought still, should l wed the Viscount-
ess herself?
When l put the question to myself, dis
covered that Sybil was the nearest and OF all
others deare ST. Her dainty slippers and
clicked ankles had conquered even my an
1>o1
won through the eyes, although my ears
vainly protested against the victory.
One evening we sat in the drawing room
in Park street after dinner. Night was fall
ing, and we enjoyed that delicious twilight
which to persons who have di ed well sug-
gests precisely the rain of thought that each
diner is fondest of reveling in. Lady Daw-
lish was presumably doing in an easy chair;
Sybil, who had been engaged in stitching at
some feminine frippery, reclined, "languish-
ing and lazy in a low settee near which
had placed myself. 1 had been talking to-
her in my most poetic and uninteligible
vein, and she was either occupied in consid
ering my thoughts or had fallen asleep in
bordering ever them. To this day [ know
not which. She had not been singing, and
felt that she was very dear to me indeed.
There is an ecstasy too eloquent for words
too sacred even to be broken by sign. At
that moment enjoyed that ecstacy.
But twilight is destroyed by the approach
of wax candles and cups of tea
ga letter for your ladyship," said the
mental.
'sAh! from Charlie Temple" returned
Lady Dawlish, regarding the handwriting.
AS the lady spoke her daughter Sybil started
and began to labor at her frippery once
more.
| saw her ladyship's face fall as she read
her letter. Then her marble forehead was
puckered with frowns, and she colored with
passion. l watched her with anxiety, for /
felt that i'll tidings were forthcoming. The
letter was contained in Il few lines written
on the front page; for her ladyship, after
scanning them, folded the paper carefully,
replaced it methodically in its envelope. and
sat gazing before her with her tands clasped
upon her lap. Sybil was evidently alarmed.
At last, after an omin ous silence, her mother
spoke.
$50, Mr.: Killjoy, you are an imposter.'
81 beg your pardon, Lady Dawlish," L
cried.
''An imposter, Sir, neither more nor less.
Read that letter.
Sybl shivered and walked to the window.
l read the letter.
PHOENIX CLUB Dublin.
My Dear 4unt You will be delighted to know
that have got the appointment have long desired
ton By the way, think you are making mistake
about your friend Killoy He is not the Killjoy of
Worcester, but retired Lieutenant of Militia, and
great ass to boot. But of course you have found
out both these facts long ago.
Your affectionate nephew,
c. w. TEMPLE.
The reference was hardly complimentary
to myself but | was more dazed than sur
prised. Then l turned the letter over and
read more manuscript. 1 made up my mind
at once.
''Well, Sir, what have you to answer to
the charge"
81 have only to say, Lady Dawlish, that l
never presented myself to you in borrowed
plumes Ihave not mentioned even the
name of my distant relation"
''Stuffw cried her ladyship; ''you know
as well as | do that unless you were MEM
Der of a county family, or man of genius,
] should never have admitted you here.
And presuming on the mistake | was goose
enough to make, you have endeavored to en-
gage the affections of my daughter"
Madam
Don't answer me, you monster of in
gratitude. Sybil and will never recover
from the disgrace"
Disgrace! Indeed Lady Dawlishr'
Then l felt mad and was determined to give
her blow for blow-not a very chivalrous
proceeding perhaps, but pardonable. eek
cuSe my interference, Dllt L tnlnK you nave
not read the postscript to this letter, here on
the third page
She seized the paper and read what had
before escaped her eyes
P. S. Sybil and love each other: YOU know it,
but you will not allow her to marry me; yet you
have declared that she must be married this season
for the sake of her sisters chances next feared
to go to Ireland leaving her here to be handed
to the first pecunious and well-born nncumpoop you
might meet Your wish, dear aunt, has accordingly
been gratifed without your knowledge. Sybi is
married; she married me two weeks ago at the Reg
strar's office. Now have got my appointment l
confess all, for tomorrow l shall be in town. and
will take her away for our honeymoon. In a month
we sail for Canada.
P. S. Poor Killjoy! He is ass but still we
have all been rather too hard on him. I'll write
and thank him day for the great assistance he
has been to Sybil and myself. Pray forgive my fib
I only told you he was his own second cousin.
Lady Dawlish did not receive this intelli-
gence with her usual phlosophic indffer-
ence. Indeed, she gave every indication of
impending Mysteries; and while Sybil minis
tered to her needs, I-crestfallen, indign 1T
and humiliated-rushed from the house.
Since this bitter experience of society |
have Stunned Mayfair, and forever will be
true to my again beloved Bayswater.
~A %M