The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1884-07-26

Dol know youP You speak like-is it
-Ethel?"
''Yes," she says, and her voice is low
and trembling, 81 am Ethel"
He is silent for an instant; then he
saws slowly: "You are not the same
nothing is the same; it is all changed
changed oh, my God, what am I?"
Slowly the truth is borne in upon his
brain, muddled and disordered by long
excess, and the last shred of the illu-
sion which had possessed him drifts
away.
He knows now that his boyhood, with
such possibilities of happiness as it had
ever held, has gone forever. He has
been knocking at a door which will
open for him never again, and the
mother by whose side he had meant to
spend the evening died long years ago.
The past, blotted out completely for
an hour by some freak of the memory,
comes back to him, and he sees his sui
len, morbid boyhood changing into
something worse still, until by slow de-
grees he became what he is now-dis-
sipated, degraded, lost.
At first the shock, the awful loneli-
ness he awakes to, and the shame of
being found thus by the woman for
whom he had felt the only pure love he
hsd known, overwhelmed him utterly,
ard he bows his head upon HIS arms as
he clutches the ratings, and sobs with
grief that is terrible in its abandon
mnt.
-r4se ..yepy policeman is silent and
awed by what he feels to be scene
from the tragedy of life, though he
may not be able to describe it to him
self by any more suitable phase than
''a rum start"
you can go now, policeman" says
the lady, putting money in his hand.
"You see 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 before
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 be-
fore, and speaks as might be expected
from his appearance.
81 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 Pm as clear as bell
again, now. So you came up and found
me battering at the old door, eh? Do
you know, | got the fancy l 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. A pretty fool l must have made
of myselfr'
She says nothing, and he thrusts his
hands deep in his ragged pockets.
'Hallo! what this I've got?n 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.
''You' IL laugh when | tell you it's toy
| bought Just now for-guess whom
for your dear husband! Must have been
pretty bad, mustn't |? Shall | give it
to you to take to him-no? Well, per-
haps he has outgrown these things now,
50 here goes" and he losses the box
ever the railing, and it falls with q
SILVER of broken glass as the pieces of
painted tin rattle out upon the flag
stones.
and now I'll wish you good even
ing" he says, sweeping oft his battered
hat with mock courtesy.
She tries to keep him back. "No,
Wilfred, no; you must not 90 like that.
We live here still, Lionel and |, in the
same old house." and she indicates the
house next door; she will be home very
soon. VIII you" (she cannot help a
little shudder at the thought of such n
guestl-''will you come in and wait for
him."
Throw myself into his arms, eh?"
he says. "How delighted he would be!
I'm Just the sort of brother to be a
credit to a 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. |
shall never GOMEZ in your way. | promise
you. I'm just going to take myself
off,"
Don't say that" she says Gin spite
of herself she feels relieved); "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 10 SWIVEL over me now, and I'm
well enough as | am. You leave me
alone to go to the devil my own way;
it's all | 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 a Christmas as l
mean to have. l can't say more than
that in the way of enjoyment.
He turns on his heel at the last words
and slouches off down the narrow lane
by which he had come. Ethel ROLES
ton stands for awhile looking after his
receding form till the fog closes round
it and she can see it no more. She
feels as if she had seen n ghost and for
her, at least, the inclosure before the
deserted house next door will be haunted
ever more-haunted by a forlorn and
4 II A.. Al.