The Warner sun. (Warner, Brown Co., Dakota [S.D.]) 1885-1???, 1885-11-27

waited till he got it, which he would
have done, they might have got on
very well, but he married her straight
out Of hand, and there they have
stuck ever stree. Arnitt ought to
have got on, for he's a gentleman-a
Varsity man, too; but he's been IN
lucky, unlucky all round"
"YOu don't mean it," Oxford cried,
in huge surprise, chat he's a gentle
mainland a Varsity MANI"
ooh, but | do, though-an Oxford
man. / remember his face distinctly
as q man of BrazenoSe when | was at
Paul's, but for the very life l couldn't
then, and have never been able since,
to put q name to it. And yet | al
most fancy-and | think of it every
time l get a fair look at him-that
I've seen the face with a tuft above
it,"
ga tuft! you don't mean it?" Or
ford cried.
eyes, 1 do. l get back to a certain
point, and then | seem to come to a
dead-wall, which blocks me complete
ly."
ooh, you must be mistaken, or be
mixing him up with somebody else,"
Oxford declared. at couldn't be, you
know; somebody would be sure to rec
Ognize him."
"Well, I may be-" Lord Archie ad-
mitted-I may be, but still I've had
the same impression ever since | have
been in the regiment. Still, as you
say, l may be mixing him up with
somebody else"
"Why don't you ask him outright"
II did hint at it once. One of the
horses vas sick, and We had a good
deal of trouble with him; and one af-
ternoon | was watching Arnitt put a
bandage on, when the conviction that
| had known him before came upon
me stronger than ever. This is not
the first time you and | have had to
do with a horse together, Arnitt,' /
said to him. He looked up at me
quickly, a flash of a look as if l might
be q detective who had been tracking
him for years, and had hunted him
down at last. For Gods sake, don't
my lord, he said, all in. a hurry; it's
no use pretending that | was once "a
An undergrade at Brazenose,' | put
in; when, poor beggar, he gave such a
cringing shiver that | felt sure I'd put
my hand on an open wound, and
wished / had let him alone. Il want
to forget all that, my lord; Isunk that
life and everything connected with it
long since he said, desperately. Il
wouldn't have Joined the Black Horse
if I'd ever guessed you would have
been gazetted to it. oh, it's all
right. I'll not remind you of it
again, Arnitt,' Itoldhim for, ofcourse
l didn't want to make his burden
any beaverton him to carry. knew
his face, but could not remember his
name, and should not try to find out.
Only / said Il do remember perfect
ly wen that you didn't call me 'my
lord'' in the old days Don't talk
about the old days. he burst out. Il
forfeited all that. made them worth
having, and / can bear it; but don't
remind me of them, if you know what
pity is-don't.' So of course / told
him / wouldn't, and no more / did. /
never tried to find him out, but I've
often thought about it, and tried to
fix the name | knew belonged to the
face, but / never could; it has always
eluded my memory just as a dream
often does. Yes, there is a queer story
at the back of Arnitt's hard life, /
know that. It's a strange fate for a
man to have been a tuft at Brazenose,
and then aprivate in q marching regi-
ment, with a wife picked out of circus.
And he's fond of her, too; oh, yes, for
she is not a bad sort, and was always
pretty. Yes, it's q queer story, very.
Well, / must be getting along-by-by."
"By-by,' returned Oxford, and went
on his way, wondering much about
the story he had just heard. Mean
time Lord Archie went further along
the street, and turned in at an arch
way between two of the little feature
less houses, which brought him into
the stable-yard. He just cast an eye
over the animals, andthen inquired of
the groom which was Arnitt's house.
The man pointed it out, and Lord
Archie crossed the narrow, ill-paved
little street, and knocked softly on the
panel of the door. 1t was opened by
the pretty, fair-haired wife, who look
ed worn TO death, and had q baby In
her arms; two other children, yet lit
tie more than infants, chung to her
skirts, and the bigger ones stoodinthe
background looking shyly on.
"Good-day, Mrs. Arnitt. How is
your husbaad?" he asked.
"Oh, my lord, he's very ILL.," she an
swered with quivering lips and eyes
Drumming over, not because she had
been weeping much, but because the
sympathetic tone went straight TO her
heart, and made it culver like a harp
swept by a strong hand; 'she's veryill,
indeed; and DIR. Granger scarcely gives
me any hope at ALL"
Who's attending to him? Have
you got a nurse or anybody to help
your" Lord Archie inquired.
Eyes. NV lord. Mr. Oxford sent one