Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1882-01-07
toRIGINAL
THE WAYS0F THE WORLD.
loRIeINAL aERIAL sToRY.l
BY JUN1Us HENRI BROWNE.

"Then the compact between US Is that
we are to be friends, and you will allow me
to aid you until you can aid yourself
"Woald that be right?'
"Unquestionably, Christina. l must
have this privilege. You will not refuse
me. If you should, should be very sorry
1 had ever seen you"
"And you are not sorry, doctor ?"
81 am delighted, my dear girl. think
that can be of some benefit to you. I've
done SO little good in this world that it
comforts me to believe can be of use
to somebody"
"What have you not done for me, you
noble man %
"Let me see. Given you an emetic that
made you very sick, and offered you a
husband you would not have. Besides,
! +"
She playfully rut her hand over his
mouth, and said, mot another word,
doctor. 1 will not allow you to misrepre-
sent yourself"
alt is understood, then, Christina, that
you will grant me the privilege of being
your friend in all that friendship signifies.
Ii you should, in your opinion, contract
any debt of obligation which you after
ward wish to discharge, you may pay it
of. I'm really hard and selfish, as you
will learn in due time. Don't concern
yourself, my child, about getting into my
debt. Be sure that I'll recover. I'm a
terrible fellow to stand for my rights.
Generosity forms no part of my compost
tion."
" Now stop, STOP" she said, again rails.
ing her hand sportively; =" 1 will not listen
to any abuse of you, even from your own
lips"
but about our covenant of friendship,
Christina?"
Must l decide at once?' she asked
after little reflection. Z" must Then
will, though it is very difficult. am only
eighteen; I've never had a friend before,
one like you at least, and maybe l don't
know how to treat friend. But I'll
agree 1 believe that you won't and can't
do me any wrong. I'm your true friend
now, doctor you shall be mine, if you
will and 1 am more grateful to you than
can ever tell.
Thank you, Christina, for accepting
me.
sit is I, my good doctor, who have
cause to be thankful, as you know, for such
disinterested, generous friend"
"We won't quarrel, my child (Tll call
you a child, because 1 am ever SO much
older than you), about which of us should
be the more thankful It is enough that
we are to be friends"
"You're not at all old, doctor; but 1
like to have you call me your child, it
sounds very nice. You're as young as any
manly man ought to be-.
"Am I, indeed? l am only thirty.two
by the record but in feeling, perhaps in
experience, I've lived thousand years. l
must leave you now, Christina. 1 can
we'll do SO, for you look far better and
stronger than when I came"
81 am much stronger and better. Your
kindness and sympathy are the best of
medicine"
"Well, good-by, Christina. Pllsee you
probably tomorrow. You know my ad-
dress, where line will reach me-
The girl gave him both her hands, and
looked SO yearningly into his eyes, and was
SO lovely withal, that it required an effort
of will to overcome the temptation to clasp
her in his arms. But he reasoned with
himself that that would be rather demon
strative-this was the convenient word he
used-for simple friendship, and not strictly
within the limits of the character he had
assumed. GA man," he added, SIS not
always a philosopher, even at the advanced
age of thirty.two. 1 often imagine myself
veteran in emotion and yet I discover
every once in while that am very like
boy"
Archer shook her two hands, which
though not very small, were soft and
well.shaped, not knowing what else to
do. He couldn't withdraw his gaze from
her dark-blue eyes and her full, red lips,
although he felt called upon to act the
part of grandfather, or father, at least,
to the pretty girl, who sprung from grief
to joy, from tragedy to comedy, with
suddenness and an ease that could have
been only possible to an exuberant nature
incapable of fully comprehending what
moralists call sin.
| Archer did not kiss her, but he went
away.