The Abilene reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1883-1888, 1885-12-10

| | CsI believe, Sydney, we have made
second mistake. l must inform you tina
NV daughter has already pledged her han
to Mr.. Rowland Van Buren, whom yo
have met, believe. They are not engage
formally but they will be within fey
weeks / did not suppose that you care
for Edith. If l had supposed it, woul
have warned you. Be kind enough to fol
get our conversation, and-please call agail
soon"
shall not bore yoSw with an analysis o
my melancholy. Fate, I unused, was agains
me. The two beings, whom l had loved
whom could have made happy, had beer
| torn from me. l cheered myself with
philosophy which had never deserted me
not even at the most tragic moments of my
life. and-I started again for Europe.
I leased a house in London, and settled
down to steady existence. had scores o.
friends, and 1 belonged to a half-dozeI
clubs On the whole | was quite comfort
able~for a bachelor. unusually comfort
able. had not the slightest desire to re
turn to New York. You see, was selfish
enough to be unpatriotic. / was soon al
| much of Londoner as any one in London
Ny stays there were prolonged during the
| seasons, and kept open house; when the
summers came l rushed over to France, OF
| Italy, or Switzerland, more as matter OF
| habit than for pleasure.
Time passed though hardly felt that il
was passing. | was an old man before
began to count the years that lay behind
| me. On q certain 5th of June, 1884, reached
my sixtieth birthday. l confessed that
was astonished to find myself so much of an
| antiquity. 1t seemed incredulous that l was
| about to begin the autumnal period of a
mans life, threescore and ten. To be sure,
| there are twenty sun-turns between sixty
and eighty. Yet at sixty one has disagree
| able premonitionS of eighty,
On my sixtieth birthday l was in Paris,
| where had engaged an apartment near the
Pare Monceau for three weeks-three weeks
ofdelicious solitude and comfort, untroubied
pleasure, the old unpeaceful nights and
| days.
arrived at Paris somewhat early in the
morning, and was driven Immediately to
my apartment. After l mad dressed and
eaten a light breakfast lit cigar and
opened one OF the big, long windows in my
salon. Then stepped upon small balcony,
and examined with delight everything
within my range of visiOn-the sky, the
sun, the streets and the houses.
For while l was lost in Il kind of ecstacy.
This was interrupted by the noise of car
riage wheels. Looking down, saw that a
carriage was standing in front of a pretty
house just across the way. A minute after
ward two persOnS-a young man who was
hardly more than big boy, and young
woman who could not have been older than
seventeen or theraabouts-came out of the
HOUSE anu ouUcTSu Inc ChTTldS6 ne uTlNST
cracked his whip energeticaliy and drove
rapidly toward one of the bouievardS.
As the young woman got into the car
riage the raised her eyes and appeared to
regard me. OF course this was simply an
accident. BuH it was an accident that gave
me an opportunity to admire the most
beautiful face that had seen since-well,
no matter since when. There was some
thing in this face that reminded me dimly,
mysteriouSly, uf two other faceS-those of
the women hGd loved. And at flash
how can l explain the workings of the
brain and heait.-the past was once more
tangible to me, real. 1t is all very odd,
know: but that does not change the fact.
saw my cha ming yis-a-vis nearly every
morning, often two or three times day.
We were almoSf on good terms enough to
nod to one anC Cgher after two weeks had
gone by, for Was regularly on the watch
for her, and she was therefore forced to
make the acquaintance of my personal ap-
pearance. l do not mean TO say that she
offered any encouragement to my harm
less fiirtation-if s1ch a word can be used
properly; she merely glanced at me as
though she expected to see me at certain
time in a certain place.
| discovered in the course of careful in
quiry, that the strangers name was Ship
ley, that she was an American and unmar-
ried, and that her boyish companion was
her brother. The two were staying only
temporarily in Paris, and were to depart
for New York as soon as Somebody-Some
aged person or persons | was given to un-
derstand-Should arrive from Rome. All
this was not especially satisfactory. The
pretty American might be Miss Shipley, or
Miss anything else: the fact remained that
l was unknown to her, while I had a pas
sionate desire to know her. Under the in
fiuence of my new emotion I forgot my
gray hair, my gout and my sixty winters.
l acantcd to be young again.
Luck favored me. l ran against we'll
known Londoner, one day, a famous club
man, and in a burst of confidence / told
him my secret. Within ten minutes l was
invited to meet Miss Shipley on the follow
ing evening. 1t seems that my friend knew
her and her family very well indeed l
will cut long story short l was intro
duced to Miss Shipley, and we became ex-
cellent friends. l drove with her to
the Bois two or three times a week,
and l was permitted to visit her now and
then. The cub of Il brother was usually
with US, though he did not bother Us much.
The three weeks that | had allowed to my
self in Paris were stretched to a month. 1
was willing that they should be stretched
to an indefinite period, for was completely
fascinated by Miss Shipley; and somehow
or other it did not occur to me that was
disloyal to the memories had treasured in
melancholy bachelorhOOd On the contrary,
felt that the same old impulse-the fate
which had guided my heart since youth
had still control of me. Miss Shipley might
have been, SO far as | was concerned. an
evolution from Marie and Edith. What
they had been, she was; their charm was
her charm: how could help, even at three
score, falling in love with the sweet girl
whose voice and face revived in me a past
of mournful tenderness.
Ny dream came to a quick end. Miss
Shipley informed me suddenly that her
mother would be in Paris the next day.
knew then that had no time to lose, that
must get ahead of the mother, who might
be Q tyrannous and disagreeable person.
So called upon Miss Shipley, and made a
formal offer of my hand and heart to her.
She was, l think, honestly surprised and
when she answered me it seemed as though
either Marie or Edith was speaking again.
Il did not suppose you cared for me in
such a way" she explained: innocently.
II fear it would be impossible for me to
marry you. There is-there is
"a difference between our ages" 1 re-
Joined, moodily. ''I'm an old fool, Miss
Shipley, and I've forgotten my good sense.
l took it for granted that because loved
you. you must love me-"
Besides" she said, without replying to
my truthful observations directly, II have
promised not to marry until I'm twenty
one. and have four years, therefore, to
wait for a husband"
You have made that promisew l ex-
dejectedly
Yes: Ny stepfather requested in his will |
that should bear his name, and not marry |
until was twenty-one. Then l am to in |
herit his fortune. He was very kind to me
i can hardly remember my own father
and shall keep my word
Then your real name is not Miss Ship |
ley?" said, in amazement.
''No; it is Miss Van Buren,"
evan Buren!'' repeated, jumping some |
what rapidly from my chair.
"Does that astonish you?" she inquired.
"I-I-was acquainted with Mrs. Van |
Buren in New York many years ago." l |