The daily Cairo bulletin. (Cairo, Ill.) 1878-1???, 1884-03-09

away from his impertinent presence at IRE.
garthen, and felt unhappy to think that she
was housed in this frowsy caravanserai.
He had seen her twice, and she had certain.
ly ill-treated him, and yet he felt such an
interest in her as few women had inspired
him with She was poor and in grief and
a widow. Mr.. Ronald Marsh left the
street slowly and sadly, and thought how
full of trouble was the world, and unused
on Death and the Reviewers, and sucl
grisly themes.
1t was no business Of any mans but tive
or three people w'io knew him caught the
poet in the act OF leaving that street after
dark, with certain marked air of furtive
adventure. If any hopes Of seeing Mrs.
Tregarthen again drew him that way, or if
he merely went to moon in the neighbor-
hood because it induced that curious sense
of the abolition of moral responsibilities
with regard to language which is so valua-
BILE to poets, would seem to be uncertain
When you relax your brains for the manu-
tacture of verses, and allow them to flow
out where they will dif'use and devious,
remembrance of some person of the oppo-
site sex serves as a sort of center for the
tides, dissipating Or rallying them quite
apart from the will of Che patient
1t had grown into winter rhine and the
rainy night had fallen upon London, and
the streets had fungous odor in the rain,
and were inch-deep in mud, when the poet,
bearing his demon with him, slashed past
the lodging p-bOoted, with his som
brero picturesquely tapping and his long
cloak picturesquely flying in the wet wind
which blew up from the river. He was
scathlng reviewer, and would have thrown
his annual income into the Thames to have
secured a stately rhyme to viper;n but
just as he passed the boarding-house door
it opened, and the merest glance assured
| him that Mrs. Tregarthen stood there at
| tired for the street A second or two later
the wind caught the door, and slammed it
noisily, The poet moderated his headlong
pace, paused and turned. Mrs, Tregar-
then's tall and graceful figure went iutter-
ing Strandward.
Ronald Marsh knew perfectly well that
1t is not counted gentlemanly thing to
follow lady without her knowledge and
consent, and he piqued himself on being
gentleman almost more than on being
poet. He did not think it honorable to dog
a lady's footsteps, and 1t was no affair of
his TO know whittier she was bound on foot
on night so Indictment. While he thought
thus he followed Mrs Tregarthen, regulat-
ing his own pace to hers. This was shame
full, and he turned away, but only for a
| second. When he looked again the fiutter-
| ing figure was gone, though there was no
| opening on the street to right or left, and
he had seen her outlined like a wavering
silhouette against the Strand lights mere
fraction of time ago A special puddle lay
abreast of where he had last seen her, no.
ticeable because it caught the lights of the
bright street beyond and reflected them like
mirror laid aslant He kept his eyes up
on this landmark, and, though as he grew
closer the light faded from it, he knew that
he had not lost the place. He was sure
with keener pang than anything but the
reviews had hitherto caused him-that he
had not lost the place; for where the wind
beaten figure had disappeared stood swing
ing door, and above it the triune globes Of
gold. Povertys stornl-drum is mast high
all the year round,
The young man drew into the shadow Of
q corner and watched the door, with no
memory of his scruples of half minute
back. 1t was not the business of the mo-
ment to analysize the motives which moved
him, but they were nine-tenths made up Of
pity and a helpless wish to be of service.
He had to wait in the wind and rain for
full five minutes before the swinging-door
opened, and Mrs. Tregarthen reappeared |
heavily yelled, and ran against the beating |
wind to the door of the boarding house,
where she paused to use a latch-key, and |
then disappeared swiftly.
At the thought of youth, and grace, and
genius brought to such a pass as this the
poet was grieved, and he walked miserably
away, not seeing how to be Of use, but bur
dened with heavy sense of the necessity
for doing something. A man may be brim-
full Of conceit, and may write bad verses,
and yet have q good heart. He walked |
homo and dressed for dinner, and dined |
modify with people who laughed at him |
for being moody. Then he went, at a late |
hour, to the theater, and there encountered |
Lorrimer. He had something Of a struggle |
with himself before he could take the man |
ager into confidence, but at length he did |
it, swearing him TO secrecy. Lorrimer |
heard him through with an expression of |
face bordering on the distracted.
"If don't find out something about this |
by-aud'by,' said the manager, :" shall 90 |
mad. Come here, into the box-oiilce. Look |
at this advertisement in the Times. Where |
are WEI Oh, here it is Read that"
The poet read
Miss Churchill isrequested to claim her
private fortune at the hands of Messrs Lowe
q Carter, of Clements Inn. "A. T."
"Now," said Lorrimer, when Ronald
Marsh looked wonderingly up at him, ''what
the Moses is it all abouti These people,
Lowe & Carter, were the lawyers who paid
me my claim against Miss Churchill She
had money then, or the means of getting
money, or she couldn't have left the stage
and have paid my claim. Now here she is
in financial difficulties running to the pawn
brokers-and I'll swear she's lady, born
and bred-and all the while she's asked in
the newspapers to 60 and claim her private
fortune! Because you know it's as plain as
the nose on your face that it's the same wo-
| man.
Who said Tregarthen was dead.n said
the poet. "These are his initials
" said he was dead returned Lori
mer. 9 She told me so.n He was quite
persuaded that she had done so. at must
be the same woman. Anyway, I'll tell you
what can 90 can 60 and see the law
yers and tell EN- her address. We have