Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1881-07-02

Stephen Langton gained the solitude of
his own room, and shut himself in, to fight
out the great struggle of his life, and have
his bitter hour unseen.
The pride that had kept back any avowal
of what he now knew to be a hopeless pas
sion was too shallow a preteEse to be kept
up to himself. The agonies of such mind
are easier imagined than described, at least
by such pen as mine. There Is no scrap
of the proverbiaf wisdom which is truer
than that one which teaches us that the
stillest waters are oft times the deepest,
and those passions that Stephen Langton
so perseveringly cloaked in cynicism were
wider and more real than any even of
his closest inmates would have deemed
them
a knock came to his door, and in answer
to his query the voice of his valet an
nounced the advent of his dinner hour.
He babe the fellow BECOME savagely, and a
minute after cursed himself for his weak
ness.
"You ass P" he said, apostrophizing his
reflection in the mirror. Is this your
philosophy? Is this the result of the self
drilling of a lifetime, to make yourself the
babble of your own servants hall, and the
tool of such matchmaking old harridan
as that? What do you want with the girl,
you wrinkled, crow's-footed, overgrown
schoolboy? What's the girl to you, or you
to her? What quality of body or brains
or heart have you to win such a prize by?
What right have you to cast your ugly
shadow on two lives :"
A second knock came to the door as he
finished this uncomplimentary harangue.
who's there he asked.
at is l, answered female voice. sis
anything the matter, Stephen"
d No, he answered, afraid to trust his
voice to say more.
Z" John said he thought you were Ill, "
returned the voice.
81 am not i'll, returned Stephen. 81
shall be down to dinner presently"
"Stephen, / am sure there is some.
thing the matter" continued the voice,
with feminine persistency.
Langton opened the door and confronted
his visitor.
"What do you want - he asked, I'M
graciously.
What is the matter with you?" re-
iterated this feminine Irish echo.
Stephen Langton was tall and dark;
Bertha Langton was small and fair. Stephen
was 40, and looked more; Bertha was al
most 81, and looked less They differed
in dozen other things, and yet were alike
in some mysterious way. Where the like
ness lay the most astute observer could
never have determined but it existed,
nevertheless.
There's nothing the matter with me,
answered Langton. Cant you take an
answer?''
Don't talk to me in that way, Steph-
en-, answered the lady, in calm reproof.
" You viii only be sorry for it afterward"
Langton gave an uneasy growl Bertha
smiled.
Its only business affairs, my dear.
I've been bothered lately Run away, like
good girl. I'll be at dinner directly"
He turned away as he spoke, and
walked towards his toilet-table. But be-
fore he reached it pair Of soft arms were
around his neck, and his sisters cheek
against his own.
He sat down, almost unnamed by this
touch of womanly pity. The girl would
have spoken, but there was such a look in
the eyes he turned on her that she forbore.
Presently he said, quite in his ordinary
voice;
"You are the only creature who has my
secret. Keep it, Bertha"
She answered by kiss, and left him.
Feeling strangely composed and quiet
after his intense mental excitement, Ste
phen dressed and descended to dinner.
His appearance was the signal for a general
movement to table. Roderic Vane, he no.
tlced, was i'll at ease, and divided his fur.