The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1884-04-05

CdH HaI0-HHetHeT CeH, nlUteu, VI lneuIJ
years, can wait; but will have revenge,
full revenge. So Iraved on and on, grow
ing more tragical every moment, until
broke down, and began to cry again.
had barely dried my eyes, when Clara
entered the room. ''What, Heritage p
she cried; ''you here l have hunted high
and low for you, but never thought of
looking here Come into the drawing
room; we must sing our duet"
pleaded splitting headache; l could
not bear the hot room. | should go to
bed at once; and, in spite of Clara's en-
treaties, to bed went, and had the pleas
ure of dreaming l was sticking stilettos
and scissors into Mr.. Vincent Hope This
was so comforting that / was quite sorry
when morning came and 1 found it was
but dream.
fsWasn't he delightful?" was Clara's
first question when we met.
"Wasn't who delightful?"
"Mr. Hope, of course The other men
were fogies.'
"Now, Clara, look here Once for all,
| tell you / found that young man detesta-
ble-simply detestable 1 hate him. 1
never met any one l took such dislike
to-"
Clara's blue eyes opened in amazement.
II thought you got on so well together" "
she said. "He asked for you in the draw
ing-room, and seemed quite sorry to hear
you were i'll. We all liked him immensely" J"
He asked after me! A piece of imper-
tinence-a gratuitous insult-a piece of
superhuous hypocrisy, which, were it pos
sible, made my wish for revenge stronger.
swell, l loathe him." | said, "and
there's an end of it. l won't even talk Of
him."
l was as good as my word; and Clara,
from the want of listener, was obliged to
desist from ringing the changes in praise
of Mr.. Hope.
l left Twickenham two or three days
after this. As drove to the station, Mr..
Hope-most likely on his way to the Ram
says house-passed the carriage. Clara
was with me, so the young man bowed to
us collectively. | made no sign of recog-
milton.
Heritage said Clara, ''that was Mr..
Hope. Didn't you see him."
"Was it ?" | replied Il had quite for
gotten what he was like
For a beginner this was pretty good
fb. After telling 1t so calmly | felt l was
getting on "Raw and awkward ~
Oh, no! l did not forget, either the
words or the speaker. When | declare for
revenge | mean it.
Five years passed by, was twenty
two. | had seen many people and many
things. Incredible as it seems, my anger
against Mr.. Hope was keen as ever-my
wish for revenge as strong. The injury
he had unwittingly done me had been
greater than ever in my first burst of rage
| had imagined His words during the
interval kept recurring to my mind, and
hindered the growth of proper confidence
and selfesteem. A long series of pleasant
little social triumphs alone permitted me
to say at last that his prophecy had not
been filled. But now, after five years, the
more l thought of the annoyance, even an
guish, his words had caused me, the more
vicious I felt towards him; the more re-
solved to compass revenge when the oppor-
tunity occurred. Oh, yes; l was a good
hater-not doubt of it, | could carry a
stone seven years in my pocket, then turn
it and carry it seven years more, or twice
seven years, never for moment forgetting
its ultimate destination.
But when should l have the chance of
hurting it, and should l act when the
chance came? Except in the street, cas-
ually, | had never since met the man.
Vincent Hope visited no friends of mine
save the Ramsays, They left Twickenham
shortly after my visit, and now lived a
hundred miles from town. | had stayed
with them several times, but my foe had
never appeared OF course 1 had heard a
great deal about him. He was now quite
a famous map. To keep myself posted up
in the light literature of the day, l was
compelled to read his books, and in honesty
l am bound to say l admired them, al
though | detested the author. Surely we
must meet some day. 1 went out great
deal, and l heard he was much sought
after. But our paths as yet had not
crossed.
1t was winter. l was spending some
weeks with new friends, who had taken a
great fancy to me-kind, hospitable peo-
pie, who liked to have constant stream of
visitors passing, but very slowly, through
their house. The Lightons were wealthy
country family, noted for their open-handed
hospitality. 1 never stayed at gayer or
pleasapter place than Blaize House. 1t
was not very large; but from the way it
seemed to extend itself to accommodate the
numerous guests, my belief is it must have
been built on the plan of an accordeon. l
can only account for its capabilities by this
theory.
Except from the tiny village which gave
or took its name, Blaize House was miles
away from everywhere; but its resources, SO
far as amusement went, made it imma-
terial in what part of the world it stood
The family consisted of Mr. Lighton-
called by every one, even his guests, the
Squire; his wife, fitting companion to
him, who shared his pursuits, and heartily
seconded the welcome he gave to every one;
and two daughters, about my own age
These may be termed the nucleus, the
standing congregation of the establishment.
In addition, there were sons who turned
up Unexpectedly and at intervals; and two
or three cousins were invariably sojourning
there. Add to these, again, the floating
population in the shape of visitors who
came and went, and you will realize that it
was merry house.
Breakfast was just over; we had been
longer about it than usual, the weather
being too damp and drizzly to tempt us
out of doors. Letters were being read
with the last cup of tea. The Squire Sc
lected one from his pile, and tossed it over
to his wife, remarking that she would be
glad to hear the good news it contained
Then it went from hand to hand until 1
had the pleasure of reading
My DEAR SoUIRE-I have Just written the
delightful word Finis at the bottom of page,