Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1884-04-25

III was inc only WOru inc BlSnOp
could think of at tho moment and II
fitted remarkably well.
But tho Apostato was very quiet in
deed, this time -meekly seemed TO ac-
quiescc in his fathers views; and then,
to the Bishops bewildermont threw
over all engagements, refused all invi.
tations, and settled down soberly and
discreotly to work in Mr.. Meeson Wei
by's chambers, with whom he was read
ing. Home to dinner punctually every
evening; talked little politics or scnsa-
tional trial with the old gentleman, but
after his coffee promptly betook himself
to his "Storoy," his Taylor his
Broom" and his first brand new copy
of the "Reports. Julian meant to be
u barrister. and, oddly enough, evident
ly meant learn law before instead OF
subsequent to, his being called, which
shows what n very original young man
he was.
1t was perplexing. Julian the Apos
tate had recantcd his social hereSy so
thoroughly that the Bishop was suspi.
cious. The man worked, no doubt of
it, and would have nothing to say TO the
cloud of white cards that settled all over
the mirror in his study like a flock of
butterflies. He was seemingly happy;
and the whole thing was perfectly
amazing.
gricvc to say that His Lordship be-
came kind of amateur detective; he
watched every letter that arrived; he
called on Mceson Welby, and found
that his son was his most punctual. and
most industrious pupil.
al assure you, my Lord Bishop"
said that distinguished advocate, she
knows vast deal of practical law, and
has the makings of very excellent
devil in him." The expression was
startling but very gratifying when prop
erly explained. Still, there the matter
was. Julian the Merry had become Ju-
liam the Mysterious and there was no
clew to it all.
One memorable evening the Bishop,
having finished the sketch of charge
U mean, of course, such charge as
would be produced by Bishop Butler,
not Mrs. Butler), sat in his study BROOD
ing over it all. He was doing his best
for his boy" he kept repeating to him
self; but his spiritual wrestlings were
disturbed some way, and between him
and the fire there came at moments u
glimpse of a certain wistful little face
he had once seen with Julian in the
park, and photograph of which said
little face hung framed in old-gold
plush beside Julian's bed. His Lord
ships musings were Interrupted by the
sound of his sons quick step on the
stairs, anu then his voice.
"All right, Pollard, Pm just running
out to post letter; Pll be back to dress
in five minutes"
"You can post it hero, Master Ju-
lian," said the voice of the old retainer,
the Bishops butler; "rm taking his
lordship's letters presently"
"Quite sure it will 30 all right. Pol
metallic flap" as the letter was
dropped into the big oak pillar-box that
stood in the hall, and then Julian ran
back to his study.
A letter! To whomP Why wish to
post it himselfp And then | fear some
little demon had the audacity to whis-
per in the Bishops ear, for that good
man was disquietcd, and rose from his
chair. The room seemed hot, so he
opened the door. The hall looked cool.
so he walked into it, There was no one
there. Like Eugene Aram, he "took
three hasty strides,' and then stopped
opposite the oak letter box, of which he
and Pollard had duplicate keys.
.'After all, there can be no harm in
just seeing to whom he is writing; it
might be some vile money-lcnder; and,
besides," added the Bishop to himself
81 may possibly have misdirected some
of my own letters Still he paused,
and the little demon kept whisper ing:
Take it out! take it out!n Finally,
with quick-beating heart, the Bishop
opened the box. Was that noise? No,
only the parrot. "Hate parrots" he
thought, as he peeped in. Yes, there it
was, right on the top of the pile, adj
dressed in Julian's big, good-natured
sort OF scrawl Feeling very like a
fraudulent bank secretary borrowing
securities from the "s.rong room," but
still urging on his conscience that he
was ''doing it for the best" the Bishop
put the letter in his pocket, slammed
the door of the box, and retreated with
his prize to his study, just in time to
hear Pollard painting up from the re-
gions below to send the post off Would
that old servtor discover the loss?
Should he rush out and restore it? No,
he would be firm; it was ''for the
best
The letter was addressed to
Miss KITTY BLEwsBY,
2liA Ccckerton Crescent
Bayswatcr.
Corresponding with her secretly!
MonstrouS! 1t must be stopped at once.
His fingers played with the envelope as
he held it up between him and the fire.
mo, no. can't do that; wouldn't be
honest said the Bishop, sternly; and
having comfor,cd himself with the re-
Election he locked up the letter in his
drawer, and then tn, dressing bell
rang.
Julian was very pleasant and
bright that day at dinner. He told
his father old Oxford stories, insisted on
pledging him in the old '47. and when
he ran off. to read Che never went to the
theater now, he dropped into the
drawing-room and ran his fingers over
the keys of the Erard. The bishop
heard the music as he sat, brooding and
melancholy and remorseful, in the room
below; for all that he hardened his
heart like Pharoah, and would not let
the letter go, because "it was for the
best''-a bit of Jesuitical casuistry that
he nevertheless derived small comfort
from. 1t required much more Pharoah-
like flintiness to endure Julian's first
anxious, and then disappointed, face
when the early post next morning, and
several successive posts for the next
two days, failed to bring him something
he evidently looked for. The inquiry:
Anything for me, fatherp' and the
invariable answer: "Nothing, Julian"
became a little tragedy. in which the
Bishop felt he was cast for "lirst muir
derer," and he was by no means easy
in the part.
The piano was never opened now,
and Julian stuck to his work quietly
and pluckily. At last he was duly
called and won the f100 prize given
by his Inn for an essay upon probate
and Divorce as Practiced by the Early
Aryan Races" He never slackened
work for moment, but went to
court every day. and still preserved the