The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1880-05-20

fairly On the nigh road to fortune. Then:
| one quiet summer evening, as they sat
| over their dessert, John opened his heart
| to his brother, and told him of all his
hopes, dreams. and ambitions for the
future.
You will be surprised, and I trust,
pleased, to hear, Roger, that I love Alice
Russell" he said laying his hand on his
brothers arm; II cannot remember the
time when she was not dearer to me than
| all the world besides. The bitterest part,
! of our misfortune was that it separated
me from her; the only thing that has sus-
tanned me through our long struggle was
the hope Of some day winning her; moth
ing else can ever compensate me tor the
ruin of I'LL my hopes and glorious ambi-
tions. I once dreamed of helng famous,
Roger; tor her sake I put that behind
me, and have grubbed for gold like
miser. We, Gourlay Brothers, are on the
high road to fortune; may aspire to the
hand of Alice now!"
"Surely, John, =" ana the younger broth
er's voice was husky, and his hand shook
as he took up his glass; drink to your
success
"Thanks, brother. should have told
you all this before, should have confid-
ed in you, but feared troubling you on
my account; you would have seen thou
| sand shadows across my path, you would
have been more unhappy than was N.Y.
self. And now I want you to promise
that it shall make no difference between
US. We shall be Gourlay Brothers still.:'
Roger stretched his hand across the
table, and John gasped it heartily. Gour-
lay Brothers to the end of the chapter,
old fellow, and may you be as happy as
you deserve. God bless you, John?'
Johns face became shade or two pal
er with emotion, and he walked up and
| down the room a few times; then he stood
behind his brothers chair.
"Roger, you will think me very weak
! very nervous, but4 dare not speak to,
Alice myself. could not bear refusal
from her. I have never even given her
the most distant hint of my feelings. I
have not the slightest reason to suppose
she regards me as other than mere &C.
qNaintance, at most as Maude's brother.
Roger, we have always been friends as
we'll as brothers-stana by me in this;
you arc less shy and more accustomed to
women: see Alice for me, ask her to be
my wife,
"John: you arc mad! You do not
mean it!''
II do; it is my only chance. Plead
for my happiness, brother, as would for
yours; am man of few words, but I
feel deeply. A refusal from her lips
would kill me; could hear it from YOU"
"As you will. John; I'll do my BEST"
and Roger leaned his head on his hand,
and shaded his face from the light; I'll
call on Alice tom orrow''
The next day was the longest of John
Gourlay's life, a bright, warm, happy
day, that made people, even in the city,
look glad and cheerful. He went about
his business as usual, ate his luncheon,
and walked home leisurely. Roger was
| standing at the window watching for
him, and he kept his back to him when
he entered the room.
"Well" John said gently. "Well, Rog-
er! have you seen her?''
eyes, I've seen her." and Roger faced
round suddenly; "John, old fellow, it's
| no use!''
"Brother!' and he lifted his nana as if
to ward off blow.
"It's no use,' Roger went on, in hard
voice; "she does not love you. She loves
some one else. Be a man, John, and bear
| it, for there's no hope.'
One low, stifed groan, and then John
Gouriay wrung his brothers hand aud
walked steadily out Of the room. What
he suffered in the hours that followed no
one ever knew; and when he appeared at
the dinner table he was calm and self
possessed, but something had either come
into his face or gone out of it, that alter
ed him. But of the two Roger looked
the most unhappy. The blow had real
~ fallen most heavily on him.
"Jack, old fellow, we're Gourlay Bro
theirs now, to the end of the chapter"
he said, huskily. II know you'll never
marry, and neither will l." And some-
how John felt that Roger meant what he
said.
Twenty-Five years passed by, a quarter
of century of changes and chances, and
still the Gourlay Brothers held the even
tenor OF their way. They were rich be-
Yond their wishes Or desires, and not al
together unhappy in their solitary friend
ship. Alice Russell seemed to have drift
ed completely out Of their lives; her
name was never mentioned, and whether
she was married, or dead, they did not
know.
One morning about the middle of Sep
TENDER, they were walking along the
Kings Road, at Brighton, whittier they
had gone for their annual holiday. Rog
CT entered shop to purchase something,
and John stood outside looking dream
y at the passers-by. Suddenly he stared
and advanced step, as lady IN an in
valid-chair was wheeled by. CHANGING
to look up, she met his glance with a
smile of recognition.
"Mr. Gourlay it surely is, it must be
you. I am so glad to see you'll"
"And I to meet yo1," John said, with
courteous bow. II have not the pleas
ure Of knowing-''
my name-I am Alice Russell STILL"
she said frankly.
At that moment Roger appeared. For
an instant the blood forsook his ruddY
face, while hot crimson flush rose to
Alice's pale cheek as she tried to STAN
mer out some words of greeting. Roger
was no less confused, and the expression
of both faces was q revelation to John
Gourlay. He felt as if the world had
suddenly drifted away from him, and he
was left solitary IN some unknown space.
But there was nothing Of that in his
voice as he asked Alice tor her address.
and permission to call upon her in the
afternoon; then taking his brother by
the arm he led him away, and they con-
tinued their walk without exchanging q
single word about the strange encounter.
In the afternoon John called at Miss
Russell's hotel, and in few moments he
found himself seated beside her in
pleasant sitting-room overlooking the
| sea.
"Alice," he said, plunging into the
subject at once, "do you remember a
conversation you had With my brother q
long time ago2''
Eyes, remember, Mr.. Gourlay," she
replied, sadly.
HE made request for Inc then which
it was not in your power to grant; I am