The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1884-06-14

clutches the ratings, and sobs with grief that
is terrible in its abandonment
The very policeman is silent and awed by
what he feels to be a scene from the tragedy OF
life, though he may not be able to describe it to
himself by any more suitable phrase than "a
RUN 9!v start IT,, 90 o- ,,;o,,,on .ous tho ,odu
putting money in his hand You see l know
thiS-thiS gentleman. Leave him to me; he will
give you no trouble now"
And the constable goes taking care, however,
to keep an eye occasionally on the corner where
this has taken place. He has not gone long be
fore Rolleston raises his head with husky
laugh his manner has changed now he is no
longer the boy in thought and expression that
he was short time before. and speaks as might
be expected from his appearance
Il remember it all now" he says. You are
Ethel Gordon, of course you are and you
wouldn't have anything to do with me-and
quite right, too-and then you married my
brother Lionel You see, I'm as clear as a bell
again now. So you came up and found me bat
tering at the old door Ell! Do you know | got
the fancy was boy again and coming home to
bah, what does all that matter to you! Odd
sort of fancy though, wasn't it! Drink is always
playing me some cursed trick now. pretty
fool | must have made of myself
She says nothing, and he thrusts his hands
deep in his ragged pockets. "Halo! what's this
I've got9" he says, as he feels something at the
bottom of one of them, and bringing out the box
of soldiers he had bought half an hour before,
he holds it up with harsh laugh which has the
ring of despair in it.
'Do you see this?" he says to her. 'You1l
laugh when tell you it's toy | bought just
now for-guess whom-for your dear husband!
Must have been pretty bad, mustn't L! Shall
give 1t to you to take to him-nol Well, per
haps he has outgrown these things now, so here
goes" and he losses the box over the railing, and
it falls with a SILVER of broken glass as the
pieces of painted tin rattle out upon the flag
stones.
"A1d now I'll wish you good evening" he
says sweeping off his battered hat with mock
courtesy.
She tries to keep him back. ''No Wilfred, no;
you must not go like that We live here still,
Lionel and 1, in the same old house" and she in
dicates the house next door; she will be home
very soon Will you" (she cannot help shud-
der at the thought of such guest)-'will you
come in and wait for him2"
'Throw myself into his arms. chr he says
'How delighted he would be. I'm just the scr
of a brother to be credit to highly respectable
young barrister like him. You really think he'd
like it? No; it's all right Ethel don't be alarmed.
was only joking. l shall never come in your
way, promise you. I'm just going to take my
self off"
Don't say that she says lin spite of herself
she feels relievedG tell me-is there nothing
we can do-nO help we can give you!"
Nothing, he answers fiercely; 81 don't want
your pity. Do you think l can't see that you
wouldn't touch me with the tongs if you could
help it! It's too late to SWIVEL over me now, and
m well enough as am. You leave me alone
to go to the devil my own way; it's all L ask of
you. Goodbye It's Christmas, isn't it!
haven't dreamed that, at all events. Well, l wish
you and Lionel as merry Christmas as 1 mean
to have. L can't say more than that i'll the way
of enjoyment"
He turns on his heel at the last word, ard
slouches off down the narrow lane by which he
had come. Ethel Rolleston stands for while,
looking after his receding form till the fog closes
around it and she can see it no more. She feels
a a oh am hQpa aft 1paS eft
the inclosure before the deserted house next
door will be haunted evermore-haunted by
forloTn and homeless figure sobbing there by the
ratings.
As for the man, he goes on his way until he
finds door which is not closed against him.