The Arkansaw traveler., 1885-07-25
SYMPATHY AND LOVE.

New England college, the conversation recalled some of the friends of our younger days, and he surprised me with this remark: "A woman's sympathies lie nearer her heart than her love-" But he surprised me more by the story he told to prove it.
 guess it was seven years," he said "that our chair of astronomy remained vacant. You know of Dr. Merdon It was justly that the world finally gave him fame. We'll, after his death the trustees were at loss to fill his place. A we, * man would have been insufferable there.
 "Do you remem per his family2 Charm ing wife and daughter. They spent sev- ersl years abroad after his death, and when they returned, notwithstanding that the widow still wore mourning, the num- Der of our little social events was dou bled The daughter had string of young mil ionaires after her constantly. Female society, perhaps you know, wasn't un- limited, and it was with foundation of ruth that the fellows grimly ioked about calling on the girls their fathers had couYted before them. Charlotte Merdon was as fascinating woman as her mother had been, so said the old folks, and it was to her that young Professor Lu,z quoted from Horace, "Oh, daughter 1! more beautiful than thy beautiful mother W when he brought down on him. self the ridicule of the mountain-day party. Yes, she could have had the pick from dozen rich boys and think she would have taken it, too, if she hadn't discovered that her mother was trying to influence her in their favor.
 "At the senior party that year Char lotte held court, as she did everywhere She was surrounded, remember, by the rich fellows of Charlie Elliott set. El- iott was happy that night. Charlotte had been unusually gracious, and her mother had made her favor clearer than ever.
 Ed, said he, turning to his chum, l tell you what will be great sport Bring Seymour up and formally present him to Miss Merdon. It will confuse him. He won't know what to do, and there will be deuce of scene.'
 "The chum complied, and in a mo- ment had the reluctant Seymour by the arm. The scene that followed must have been all that Elliott desired For a mo- ment the poor student stood before the belle. It was not unlike the beggar and the princess. Her easy attitude con uasted strangely with his painful awk- wardness. Elliott had not miscalculated The effect was immediate. All eyes were turned toward the couple, and smile went around.
 "Charlotte Merdon saw it, and her cheeks famed. She had divined the heartless joke. To the surprise of those about her, she begged Seymour to be seated-insis,ed that he should be seated. Then she tried to draw him into the con- versation. But it was impossible. Em. barrassment seemed to have driven his wits away. Only one remark he ventured Glancing at portrait on the wall, he stammered out, That's good picture of the president The portrait was taken thirty years before, and was anything but . good likeness of the president as he then appeared. The unfortunate remark caused another smile. Elliott was de lighted. His joke was a splendid suc- cess. Poor Seymour twisted about in his chair and hung his head. His discom future was complete.
 Miss Merdon took deliberate look at the picture, and did not smile Yes, she said, it is called very good likeness of him just after graduation. Have you seen the presidents flowers, MT. Seymour ? Let me show them to you.'
 Rising and excusing herself she led the young man into the greenhouse ad. joining the parlor.
 The devilP said Elliott. q didn't look for anything like that
 NSAynrnnr vApNnAA s, q. his trying ordeal, hardly knew what to do or say. He felt as if a millstone had been taken from his neck. The pain and the manner of relief worked strangely on his sensitive nature. He felt that he was in great debt to his companion. He wanted to kiss the hem of her garment. He wanted to cry. He knew he was feel ing and acting like fool. He expected that he should make a greater tool oi himself than in the parlor. But some way he didn't care. He had lost all fear of the beautiful girl. Her act of mercy had brought him nearer than years of ac- quaintance could. He talked rapidly of the flowers, for he knew of them, and Charlotte listened, listened, wondering why she cared to listen, little thinking that her sympathy had brought the awk- ward student nearer than he would have been had she known him lifetime and had never seen him in pain. So, when he pointed out the observatory where he worked, the queerly-shaped building that showed its dark outlines in the moon. light just over the campus on the hill, she wondered what it was that prompted her to beg him to take her there, to exact promise that on the very next night he would conduct her through the buildings that had been built after her father's orders. She persuaded herself that it vas desire to see some manuscripts of her fathers which Seymour told her had been Left there. Perhaps it wax
 Notwithstanding her mothers mild