Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1881-09-14
CHAPTER III.

SIX years passed slowly by, as years
pass when we are young. Bryn had
been gathered to his fathers after pain
full period of spoonmeat and bullying by
his own descendants, and Bill, his son,
reigned in his stead, and might often be
seen fastened to staple outside Canter-
bury Gate. Our hero was at Christ
Church, and his rooms in Peckwater
were favorite resort of all the wealthier
and idle youth of that famous quad
rangle. He was, of course, of the elect
of that happy set who never become
entirely OxOnian, but introduce leaven
of London life and the outside world
into the collegiate mass. He rose late.
dressed irrerroachably, hunted in pink,
gave great lunches and dinners, and
generally staggered about the house.
Life was very pleasant to him. An only
son, and heir to well-acred peerage, So
ciety was eager to receive him, and
everyone was anxious to be his friend.
The sunny side of the world was always
turned toward him, and his lines were
in pleasant places. But he was not
disliked by the poorer or less popular
men; they had always good word for
him, and voted him thorough gentle
man. In this respect he differed from
his close chum Charley, or as his friends
styled him, Car Bunbury. Car was a
man very popular in that set, for his aim
was to be so, and he was clever fellow:
but ne persisted in overlooking those
whom he thought to be his interiors,
and was consequently hated by them.
He was not naturally bad man; rather
an artihcially bad one, for he wished to
appear such, and in the effort to attain
this he became what he only aimed at
seeming. Some may blame him more
than the man who, naturally of strong
passions, is hurried by them to commit
acts of which in his cooler moments he
is ashamed. Be that as it may, Car
Bunbury did as much, if not more harm
than such one. He dressed his part,
as theatrical people say, cultivated a
cynical manner, and, aided by a tall fig
ure, sallow complexion, and dark
mustache, he embodied his ideal very
fairly. He and Preston were most init
mate friends; they lived on the same
staircase, hunted together and dined to-
gether, and both were in the house
eleven. Consequently it was quite in
the nature of things that they should
join In making one of those little trips to
town in which the undergraduate de-
lights.
1t was a wet and miserable night
south of the Thames, and billiard sa-
loon In the Blackfriars road was crowded
with more than it's usual number of
guests. It was the weekly harmonious
evening, and sundry small stars from
the music halls we're doing their best to
r<141 Il i
shop boys. The performance was rather
a dismal one; and so the young woman
who pressed over the bar seemed to
think, as she gazed YEARLY at the clock
whenever fayorite song caused lull
In her employment. Though there was
an air OF fnery about her, such as marks
the barmaid class everywhere, yet in
other respects she was not like them.
Her dark eyes were restless and gloomy;
her answers were short and sharp to all
alike; and she evidently had not learned,
or did not believe that business and
pleasure could be combined. Yet her
pale, straight features and tallfull figure
would win her plenty of admirers, whom
| her sarcastic temper soon drove to
despair.
The landlord, an enterprising Yankee,
voted her something out OF the common
way In barmaids and valued her accord
ingly. In truth Hester Leonard had not
grown into particularly contented or
| pleasant woman; she was ambitious, and
that is hardly compatible with content
ment 1t was as if that one glimpse
years ago at the life of class above her,
when she was just old enough to notice
and remember, had turned her head. It
had probably influenced her feelings and
aims ever since; her mind was always
running on the way to get upward in the