The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1883-06-23
A DRAWING-ROOM COMEDY
From Chambers Journal.

r rom tHuHOpFS OoUiHUt.
Mr.. Thomas Bilbury is the junior part
ner in the great firm of Bilbury, Black
ia and London. The senior partner is
Mr. Joseph Bilbury, his father, who has
a very nice house at Kew; and until a
year or two ago there was a third MEM
Der of the firm in the person of Thomas
uncle, Mr.. Darlington Blackthorn, the
Calcutta representative of the establish
ment. But, unfortunately, Mr.. Black
thorn, like many Englishmen who lived
in India, drank too much Scotch whisky
and Bass ale, and ate too much curry
and too many Bombay ducks;' the re-
suit being that at the age of tifty-five
his liver declined to bear the strain put
upon it. and collapsed, leaving its owner
50 weak and ill that he had barely time
ere he died to telegraph to his partners
in England brief note of his impending
fate. This alarming dispatch arrived at
a particularly inopportune moment. Mr..
Thomas Bilbury had on the day previous
married ve:y charming young lady,
Lydia Topples by name; and the intelli-
gence of his uncle's sad condition neces-
STATED that the newly made husband
who, by the way, had only become ac-
quainted with his bride about six weeks
before marriage-should without a mo-
n,npt'., dalai, 10 1.n n
| cross to Calais, and thence go by the
quickest route to Calcutta The affair
| was pressing. Mr. Blackthorn's death
would certa inly throw the business into
confusion, and any hesitation on the part
of the English partners might imperil
the future of the firm.
go at once, my dear boy wrote Mr..
| Joseph Bilbury to his son, who was on
| the Isle of Wight; land send yoar wife
to me. | will take care of her, and see
| her settled in your new home at Rich
mond. l would go myself, but my govt
won't allow me. And above all things,
| take care of your liver
h'lS "tto nv iS 4 iol ~. WI. bIipul ,
/ junior, felt that he must go; SO go he
! did, putting the best face on the matter.
and bidding very long and tender good
! bye to his poor little wife. He escorted
| her across to Portsmouth, put her into a
! London train, kiss cd her. saw her off,
( and then took the next train for Dover.
lA in, l.,
Richmond Hill; and he for many months
! aiterward worked hard at his desk in
/ Calcutta, arranging the worldly affairs
! of his dead uncle. and from time to time
| sending home reports of his progress,
and love letters to Lydia.
| Two years, in fact, elapsed ere he was
able to return to England; and then he
returned as he had gone out, at mo-
ment's notice. Unforeseen circumstances
suddenly left him free, and, unwilling to
| lose day, he took the first homeward.
| bound steamer, which, SO it happened,
was also taking to Richmond a letter,
written few days earlier, in which Mr.
Bilbury. among other matters regretted
to his wife that the pressure of business
would not leave him at liberty for at
least month.
He Travelled home without adventure,
| landed in due course at Dover, arrived i'll
London Late at night, and without hav-
ing written a word of warning to Lydia.
hurried on next morning to Richmond
! Hill. Why he did not write or telegraph
! we cannot say; perhaps he thought his
Sudden appearance would agreeably sur
prise his wife; or perhaps he was too ex-
cited to be able to think at ALL But in
any case. he neither wrote her nor tele-
graphed single word Of preparation.
1t was fine sunny morning in sum
mer. Mr.. Thomas Bilbury had scarcely
seen his new home, which lie had taken
i'll a hurry immediately before his mar
| riaEe; and he was walking eagerly up the
short carriage drive leading to the house,
when, happening to cast his gaze toward
the upper windows, he caught sight
of Il fair, white draped figure that
was watering some Towering plants that
stood in a row on the sill. He at once
recognized the figure as that of his wife,
and was about to utter Il cry of saluta-
ton when he suddenly became conscious
that she did not recognize him, for with
J graceful modesty she Withdrew from the
@inI"w and disappeared as soon as she
. became conscious that he was watching
i her. An idea struck him. 1t was a
foolish, sSut not wholly unnatural one.
| He would pretend to be some one else
would ask 10 see her as such. OF course
she would at once recognize his voice
! but then the surprise, and the consequent
| pleasure, would be the more complete il
he thus deferred them. He knocked,
therefore, at the door, aud to the servant
| who appeared announced that he had
| Just returned from India and desired t.
see Mrs. Bilbury. He gave no name,
| but he was admitted and shown into the
DRAWN. room. where, in some perturba-
ton of mind, he awaited the advent of
the wife from whom he had been so long
su,d SO cruelty separated.
- suppose that she will know me, y
| he reat octed as he stood with his back t.
| the window; but it is true that | have
!. grown ItOi.erably big beard since | went
| away, and THAI ! have become consider
| ably tanned. Moaever, the beard ought
I ITO make no great ,diGoreEce. | suppose
| tA:.,t She would know ms if she saw me
in my shirt sleeves, or with both legs cut
o4l' at the knees. On the other hand she
thinks that | am still at Calcutta, for shf
Must have had my last letter this morn
i ~. | hope my sudden appearance heIs
wont upset her. must be careful
Here his thoughts were switched asd.
by the unmistakable sound of rustIin4
\ skirts in :hc passage without; and as the
door ope,asd he involuntarily turned ant
| gazcd into the garden, at the same time
coughing nervously.
May offer you chair? am afraio
that you will find the open window toe
much for you" said soft voice benin,
him.
Oh, no; not at allr' he returned
hastily resuming his survey of the gar
den.
Mrs Bilbury did not in the least rec