Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1884-02-10
.sLet me know more, if you please,

| Judge Barrett to-day. AS l told you, he
is dying fast, but his brain is still I'M
touched. He never spoke more intelligent
" in his life. He was particularly kind
/ to your mother, whom he has always liked.
l made one poor attempt to touch on re-
| lgiOus matters. He said in a polite but
| peremptOry manner:
Doctor, you and l have agreed to dis
/ agree on such subjects; let us drop them
1 forever. My time is too short for argu-
ment. l am glad to have you here to-day.
/ to meet Mr.. Beltham, who. YOU will be
/ glad to know, mas kindly consented to
/ undertake the care of my family and es-
1 tate. Most fortunately my daughter
/ Charlotte has the good taste to love her
| stepmother. This ensures complete har-
| mOny in my arrangements. Let me ask
/ that you and her aunt will still hold to
/ your interest in Charlie.'
81 told him that l had met Mr.. Beltham
/ before, and that he could certainly claim
for Charlie all that our great love could
/ perform. All during our visit Mr.. Beltham
| most jealousy kept his position at the
1 Judges right hand, and l could say but
| little. Bv the way, the Judge who, even
| in this supreme hour, will be a gentle
man, arousing himself, after little pause,
! said:
. 1 am told your son has returned. 1
! congratulate you; EscOtte is a son worthy
/ even of his father"
Ppm obliged; but tell me about
! this man Beltham. How does he impress
/ yOuF'
The answer came with more bitter en-
phasis than Escotte had ever heard from
his fathers lips before.
Charlie despises him.
"Charlle is only young girl, and may
1 be lndulging an unreasonable prejudice.
4 May ask again how he impresses you!''
Il have met him several times at Judge
"a hap "a,
slant visitor there. He treats me with the
most marked politeness-defers to my
( opinion always, and appears to really
wish my approval. He is very courteous
to his mother and adopted sister, very
considerable and respectful to the Judge,
but he can't quite reach my regard. l
cannot like him! | cannot believe in
him! He is too smooth, too suave, too
polite, too subseryient to everybody. He
looks like man quietly plotting, quietly
scheming all the time; but nobody knows
nor will they know his affairs. l have
asked, for instance, about his pecuniary
condition; but whether he is rich or poor 20
man can tell. There is a curious reserve
about him which repelS me, though, in
general, l like reserved people. don't
think / am prejudiced or was when |
first met him, but, to speak candidly, l
don't like himp'
''Does Charlie give any special reason
for her dislIkeE"
NO; she never will. She won't talk
unreservedly about him; generally dis
misses him with some short sarcastic eX-
preston of contempt; but she hates him!
One day l said; Child, what makes YOU
so hard on uncle Alberto Very quickly
she replied: i have abundant reason;'
and this was said with an unmistakable
sheer on her pretty lips. fancy they
have their tIltS, and fancy she makes no
secret of her sentiments, but how they
Will agree in their new relation l do not
know, but think it Will prove the greatest
mistake of the Judges life"
EscOtte had sat very quietly listening to
his father, but now some new anxiety
seemed to seize him. lie got up and
walked back and forth for a long time.
Each gentleman seemed lost in his own
uncomfortable musings, but, whatever
caused the sons dlsquiet, he was evident
ly resolved to say nothing about it. He
had never been communicative person;
never sought counsel of any one. For
many years he had lived much alOne-a
stranger in a strange land, with only the
sound of a foreign tongue in his ears. 1t
was not likely that, at this late hour, he
would share his anXieties with his father,
or add anything to his misglVlngS.
So he walked on in characteristic ST.
lence until he had arrived at some definite
conclusion; then, quietly seating himself,
he said:
Il shall call at Judge Barrett's this
evening to see this Mr.. Beltham."
You mean to see for yourself, EscOtte,
as usual, and trust your own judgment
and not anOther's."
Il don't believe much in physiOgnOmy,
father.
"'There is no art
To find the minds construction in the face
but do put some stress on what is called
another, and the agreement or disagree
ment between ones action and words. 1
will look at this person critically and as
! impartially as possible. | Will do more; as
| am to continue at home, Will watch
his administration OF affairs, and, though
Eve no rights in the matter, L think your
pretty pet will not be friendless."
His father looked pleased and gratifed.
Suddenly turning to his son, with an
earnest and almost excited expression, he
said:
'EscOtte, l am an old man, not only
three score but ten also. The allotted
time with me is nearly passed, and it is
we'll with me, as you know, but of late
months | have been lOath to die, half
afraid to leave my child with no human
help. She is fair and sweet, and l hoped
| you'd find her so, and you didn't; but l
! have some claim on you. EscOtte, for
| my sake, and for the sake of justice, stand
/ by Charlie in her day of trouble. You
/ have a kinsman's right. Don't let her
I enemies Cypress her when | am goneP'
| With perfect rep0seful self-pOssessiOn,
| and yet, with telling emphasis, he was
| answered:
"Charlie is a woman, and Charlie is
/ my cousin. 1t will go hard with me if evil
| touches her."
There seemed always reserve of great
| strength about Escotte, as if having given
what was needed at the moment, certain
resources lay in keeping for a more
+ stringent emergency. His yea" and
: may given so quietly seemed far more
( effective and etfectual than the more pro-
| nOunced utteranceS of other men. His
[ word was his bond. An hour of lengthy
/ assertions would not have added one
whit to the force or fullness of his intent.
His father knew him we'll; had seen the
/ growth of his strong and sufficient char
/ acter with his increasing years, and he
/ rested fully and enjOyingly in its well-prO-
/ pOrtiOned capabilities.
If the sons distinct personality some
/ times imposed itself as a sort of barrier
/ to the close intimacy of other men, the
/ father only priced the more the rare
I knowledge he enjoyed of living the
other side, as it were, of his isolation"
1t would be hardly fair to cOnfOund a
reserve, even as stern in its manifestations
as Mr.. EscOtte Fe9rne's, with the selfish
4 egOlsm which takes neither care nor note
( of the condition of his fellOw-men. 1t
was far from self-centered, and as far from
selfish. There was no gentler charity, no
more far-reaching philanthropy in the ten
der-hearted pastor of great and loving
congregation than in the soul of his wan
dering son, whose friendships he could
count on his fingers, and whose loves
were limited almost to his own freside
But his life had been passed in reflection.
/ His companions had been b0Oks-a COM
binatiOn not altogether wholesome, I'M
less tempered by a deep and sympathetic
humanity; but the problems wrought out
there had neither chilled his heart nor
limited the bounty of his hands. His life
had been thoughtful and busy, but it
had rather lacked embellishments. In
truth, at this time, though he was careful
to confess it to no one, he was just a lit
tie weary-Of what? he had not decided,
and, Obeying the urgent request of his
aged mother, he had come home to rest.
Verify, his idea Of rest represented far
more work than another mans; but,
such as it was, he had come to find it.
And, contrary to his expectations, he was
glad he had come. He fancied he had
grown old enough to pause a while and
look back as old men are won't to do, and