Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1881-04-02

drew breath then, for the green fields and
the trees reminded him of home. But
there was sorrow in that remembrance, and
he tried to run away from it.
The dawn slowly crept upon him, and as
the sun rose he began to feel fatigued He
dropped from the high state of feverish
imaeinations and regrets to the common
place sensation of hunger. The morning
| was well advanced when he arrived at the
old. fashioned village. In front of little
| white cottage were number of carriers
carts, and above the door he read, Home
brewed ale sold here" He entered the
house and saw several carriers seated at a
deal table drinking ale and eating great
lunches of bread and cheese.
A stout kindly-faced woman OF middle
age came toward him from an inner apart
ment, and in CHEEKY voice babe him
good morning" as she showed him to
seat by a table which was unoceupied. He
was speedily supplied with the same re-
| freshment as that on which the carriers
were feasting, and he thought the finest
wine could not have compared with that
| first draught of his mug Of ale. As he par
took of his simple fare he listened to the
strong, healthful voices Of the men near
him. He glanced at their brawny figures,
noted their rough, brown hands, and he
almost envied their happiness. They knew
nothing Of nerves.
Two of the men rose, and as they passed
! Arnold nodded to him respectfully, saying,
q Fine morning, sir" Then there was q
clatter of CHAINS and horses hoofs, and
presently a rumble of wheels as the carts
rolled away downward, and the sound OF a
merry voice was heard trolling country
| ballad.
Arnold inquired if there was railwa.-
station near, and, finding that there was
one, took train back to town.
On arriving at his lodgings, the servant
informed him that a lady ana gentleman
had called for HIM about 10 O'Clock. He
was tired, mentally and physically, and in
a listless way put the question:
.'Did they ieave cards?
.sNo, sir but when | told them you was
out the lady asked to be shown TO your
room to write note for You. The old
gentleman didn't ike this, and said as
there was no necessity for writing, as they
would call again But the lady would
have her way, and l showed them up to
your room, sir, and you viii find the letter
ON your desk.
He assembled the staircase weariedly,
and by the time he had reached his room
he had forgotten about the letter. There
was a sense of dull pain IN his head, and
vet he could not attempt to rest. He
walked to the window and looked out upon
the dull gray street. An organ grinder
was turning out polka, and number Of
children, mostly girls, were dancing mer-
rily and singing to the hoarse aceompanl-
ment of the instrument Of torture to many
and of ecstacy to the street arabs.
"What a difference :" he muttered,
gloomily youth can be charmed i'll this
way, neither thinking of nor caring for to-
morrow"
He turned away, blaming himself much
for the envious spirit which possessed him,
and had engendered such bitter thoughts
about those whom he loved most.
Work was his only resource work
| would drive away the demon and as he
had some proofs to correct, he sat down at
| his desk.
Staring him in the face was the letter
| which he had forgotten. He clutched it
eagerly his eyes frightened; his whole
face flushed with joy, although his hands
trembled. The superscriptlon was IN Do
rys handwriting. He opened the envelope
and read
| wanted very much to see you last night, but
| Mr. Harcourt would not allow me to go behind the
sceres and when inquired for you was told that
/ You had gone away We came here tins morning
| hoping to find you, but were disappointed Come
| to me the moment that you receive this at Aunt
Willis, Park lane. I'm waiting Tor you, and shall
| not leave the house until you come.
| Strange things have occurred since you LETT Dun
! thorpe. Now, don't be 4 foOi-n you can help it
Won dare not disobey. DORY
p 81 am reIli sorry about last niyht, and
| know you i'll be miserable but have hope. That
is why want you to come to u.s. and try to learn TO
hope also. Your father and some other friends viii
be here this afternoon.
He read the note hundred times, and
still he did not know what to think OF 1t.
There was the tenderness of the Dory who
had fired his imagination with love and
ambition and there was the whimsical
fairy who tantalized him with hope and
fear. But it was like rush OF sunlight
into darkened room to read the courage
GUS words, q have hope.
Should he go? Yes-and yet no he
had failed. What right had he to go to
one who was so dear to him when he was
in such a state of utter humiliation, when
! instead of the laurels he had hoped to offer
her, he could only say My father was
| right, and l was wrong | have failed, and
l must say good-by ?"
But weak as ne felt, this token of her
sympathy had given him strength, and he
! went to Park lane.
Apparently instructions had been given
to the servant that he was expected, Tor as
! soon as be gave his name he was ushered
! into the boudoir of Mrs. Willis, and there
he found Dory. She rushed toward him
with an exclamation OF pleasure, and
| clasped both his hands. The happiness
which he experienced in feeling the touch
of her hand once more; the delight which
he felt in meeting the bright eyes so full of
sympathy, made him ashamed of the
morose broodings which had occupied him
during the night.
81 am so glad you have come" she
cried, still holding his hands; because [
was so very angry with you last night for
running away from me- l could see you
| could see how troubled you were, and l
wanted to tell you that, 40 matter what
/ these nasty people might mean by Kissing
your play, l thought it delightful, and l
| wanted so much to tell you so. | don't
know much about those things. but Mr.
Montgomery tells rue that it is a very com
mon thing for a new author to fall under
! the censure of an ignorant crowd"
The warmth of her reception made his
heart leap with joy, but the mention OF
Montgomery's name Jared upon his over
/ strung nerves. Still there was something
in her expression which charmed away all
/ jealous thoughts.
"You are very kind, Miss Willis, he
said, in faint voice; land l have no
I doubt that with your sympathy shall get
/ over this disappointment.
''You will do more than that; You will
prove vet that the verdict was pronounced
| by prejudiced jury. You must succeed, !"
1" Yes" he answered, with sad smile,
81 shall succeed, but not in the way You
! rnnnn shall snccead in gratifying my