New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1882-01-29

res; the STORY was neither rare nor new anu
now; two years after that parting In the cleaning
by the river, the real romance Of passionate love
| came to Ruthven Dyott.
| Milcent had swayed him, now he learned the
! sweetness of swayIng another. Millcent had been
his guide, now he was the guide of one who found
| all her sunshine in his smile.
! Mllhcrnts dark eyes had been wont TO watch him
with helpful interest, Tut not always approvlngy.
Alice his girlsh bluc-cyed wife, would not know
| how to begin to chiGc him, much less TO go on.
! she studied his comfort as the o.ie thing worth
striving for; counted herself blessed among women
IN that he had chosen her from all the world TO To
forever by his side; read the books he loved, so
that she might be abe to speak Of them with HIM
| made, IN a word. n perfect wife. Bat by her very
perfection and the utter unSelishness of her deyO-
ton she cherished rather than helped him to fight
against certain vIlful headstrong impulSivencss.
! that Niy. Door faithful MIlly. whose honest
| tongue wOuld smooth no truth. however dis
/ agreeable, had ofttmes called his rock ahead
| Never were happier people than Ruthyen DyOtt
! and his wife for time.
But ut last sore and bitter trouble came to them;
! and in this wise.
A year after their marriage n child had been born
! to Thorn; boy with Rul hyens dark eyes. clear
| cur features and sunny smile. When the lad could
staggcr three steps across the floor and then fall
into his mothers outstrctched arms, Alice thought
| hsr cup of JOY could brim higher; when his
| naby-iips began TO try and lisp her name, she
thought that there was yet another note added to
| the exquisite music of life.
And so the years passed on.
The child became the boy. the boy the youth;
and then to Rdthyen Dyoit and his wife Allceit was
given 10 learn by bitter experience the truth of poor
old Lcar's exceeding bitter cry that SHARPER than
serpeuts tooth it H. to have thankless child
Cuthbert this only son of theirs was worse than
| thankesS Is there such a thing as too much love-
as well as too much harshncss, in the rearing and
| tending of n child
The mother of this young fellow would never
| have allowed such to be the case. In her eyes all
the wrOng her boy did all the shame and sorrow he
brought upon his father and herself, tie fault
of somebody else-ilrSt OF this false friend, then OF
| that bad companion; never of himself He was
90 easily led she said. and vie <cd people took
| advantage of his gentle disposition.
husband and.
sinner Iut he grew To look older than his years;
his upright form began to stOOp. lie would walk
along silent and prcocruped. his eyes on the
ground thc hrows a hove thcm puckcred IN thought
More than once when Cuthbert, flushed of face,
dsordcrly in dress unsteady OF gait, loud-vOced.
defiant or descending, according to the stage of
drunkenness al which he had arrived, found him
self IN his fathers presence that father did but
turn upon his heel, lock himself in his private
where rpne-not even Alice-darc follow and there
'drec his weird in solitary, brooding misery.
He had been wilful. impulslve, 0fttimcs lacking
in patience and selicontrO but he had kept his life
clean and clear: he had never degraded the man
hood within him he had tOed hard at his profess
sion name, fame, wealth, success were ms and
/ now. of what value did they seem in hlS haggard
eyes? What was TO become of this CHASTITY fetch
of his, this lad like IN outward seeming TO the
bov who hal gone TO London nearly thirty years
ago TO try ~ push his fortunes. the boy to whom
Nillicent Warner had been good and true
fncndP Yes strangely enough in these the days
OF his bitter sorrow. Rnthvcn Dyott bcthOught HIM
OF the past, remembered the woman who had
frightened
ont OF il like alow that Is Gonr-remembered her
with new spring of graf tude rising in his arid
heart toward her memory like sparkling rlIl OF
lie set himself to wonder that had become of her.
Was she married long ago. or had her chaStencd
shirt fed from earth to heaven. and LETT only her
memory to shine in the hearts of those who had
known and loved her.
How he should like to have one of the old long
chats with her tel her all about this unhappy boy
of his and of Alice. his darling. his wife who had
been tender ana loving companion to him all
these years! Alice weighed upon his NINA almost
rs heavily rs CuthbpTt. For n strange change had
come upon Mrs.. DvOu. she, so 9uileeSs 80 conhd-
ing he'd crown silent and reserved. No one ever
saw her weep. bat her eyes were always weary
mis- v and with weird ar-of look in their blue
dcpls. ms IL they were forever looking for some
thino thry ha lO,t-aIwavS wistiuL, pleading. pa
th,tic We're they seeking for he boy she had LOST
the little lad she remembered staggering 10 her aims
with merry ringing laughtcr-the boy whose new
clothes for his first going TO school she could hardly
see o mark cGlulv for the tears that rose so FAST
and had II be dashed away between every dip Of
the pen Who can read aught Of the sublime nNs-
terry of mothers heart mourning over me pafK5
sliding O.. ths child She brought INTO the world
Ruthvcn grew almost 10 fear his wife. Her dim
eyes meeting his would send chill Though every
lie had never been man Of much religious pro-
fe.,on: but now IN these terrible Gays ne was vas
learnt 10 pray. more with the heart than with the
lips pcrhaHg yet me- the less let'cutly Tor that
10 pray not for himself hut for Alice, his wife, that
Heaven woald have pity ON her Suffering SOUL ana
lift the cloud that WIS darEcning All her life: 49,
About this time an old friend cane To- WISH AIce
Dyott enc oi those friends whom II Is given 10
so,ue women TO make. Outlines trucr fender aud
more faith.ui than those to whom the ties Of kin
drcd bind us ever 50 ClO-cY.
let Your how come homo with me for WHILE
said this eloj friend 90 LGthycu when her stay
under h. roof drew 90 close; your vile Is break
M Know r. sail futhreu. h head sinking on his
breast: who brt.'r' An. SO; am helpless. can
oh yc-. son can said his companion. You can
let CuthJ'rt coin. I'D d.. II" IS my godSon, you
know; 3, I have some claim 70 Il part and lot in
What viii raur husband say"
What. J.H,st tltn say I'm the most sensible
little woman n the world; he always does, You
with cause, too' answered Ruthycn with a
smile
bort lc.t mono i0t 'Ih'' nm cement IN WHICH,
after long tsiE with her friend IAN interview
from which MIS- Coycuey came io.th Win no eyes
10 speak oi hu in when Alice shed no single tear,
his mother quietly 9cqucsced.
The Utots 10 this period of their lives were living
I'm ON lon Mr. and Mrs COvrncv dWclt far north.in
a lovely nest 0l pace among The English lalcs; 50
CuthLert found little similarity between the life he
went INTO and the life lac had le't; and for time
all events. the excitement OF change muSt-So GlS
father thought-tcnd TO keep bad habits IN abey-
ancc.
Mrs. Coveucy wrote at intervals, hut beyond
general chceuness OF tone, nothing very definite
could he Gathered from her letters.
A. last kuthyou DyCtt gong INTO ms study one
cleaning dropping earthwarl Ii, e "A gray veil, saw
The glraM OF a white patch upon hIs desk.
# was a letter. and in CuthheTts hand.
Now tho boy seldom wrote when away from
home What indeed was there for hun u say
Was it any good to make promises that were but
written in sand doomed ~ be washed away and
leave no trace once tho tide Of tempta-
ton should arise!
Silence was he.t,r tran meaningless words, as
holm father and son had by this time learned.
Hence this letter took 10 Buthycus eyes tho guise
Of a possible evil. Had the hoy got into some fresh
toub'r-virllci to some new tcmptahon-made
tine trends who had uob,y stretched ont hand to
hm bitterly rcpcntaut Of thcIr seucrostvi Was 1t
that old story q demand for money To pay debts oi
SO called honor. as the only way in which public