The Abilene reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1883-1888, 1885-09-03

1
when he looked out from the stage door,
and fer some ten minutes he awaited in
vain the return OF the messenger he had
dispatched for cab. He 1ell into a
| little lOrdly rage a. this, and demanding
that the vehicle whel found should be
sent after him, b. hetook himself tn the
Albany, near at hand, and meeting
there half-Score OF his professional
brethren. Joined them in social glass.
! Notwithstanding the non-arrival OF
the cab, he was by this time in the verv
best and joliest of humOrs; and the
future seen through vinous and spiritu-
Gus mists looked 50 sure and solid that
he took his daughters acceptance OF
Young Weathericy Is a fact accom-
plished. and asked one or TWO of his
older friends 10 be present at the we'd
J ding. 1t mad been the common talk
for months past that young Weatherley
and Miss BasSett were engaged; but all
things considered, the marriage had
seemed curiouslv long in coming. and
now that it was announced as Imminent
the great tragedan was congratulated
with such heartiness Is you MAY fancy.
He had always been popular and sue
ces-lul, and, like men in other pro-
LESSONS, actors like to know the pOpu-
lar aud successful
Mort, dear boy" and Bass, dear
bow" said the unctuOuS bass voices
round him, as their owners touched
glasses with him, and the eminent
com dian from the corner said: monty,
We deserve to be congratulated, in a
voice so natural and Ike his own that
| two men from Magdalen were convulsed
| at his resemblance to himself, and felt
proud to stand within yard of so much
greatness. All this kindness and gem
| alitv on the part OF Mr. Bassett'S old
! friends led naturally to more drinking;
and when at length, after a search of
/ half an hour, the messenger returned
with cab, the great man was in a
! glow OF mingled pro >perty and fatherly
! sentiment the like of which he had
never felt before.
The snow lay so thickly on the streets
that the cab bore him homeward in 4
curious ghostly quiet. The flakes fell
so close together that the driver could
| scarcely see the way before him, and
once or twice missed his turning. But
/ Mr.. BaSsett, sitting snugly within the
vehicle, was wrapped in his own bright
| dreams, and was in Il condition to think
the night Venetian. Arrived at his own
door, he feed the cabman muniticently,
and entere |. He was so OLD topper
that even now he gave but little sign of
the evenings deep drinking, and an
unsuspicious eye might have passed
over that little easily. His daughter,
awaiting him beside a cheerful fire in
| the Sitting-roOm, rose at his entrance,
| and kissed him with something more
| than her usual tenderness and with no
| suspicion. She wenTt bed before his ar
rival, or sat up to await him, as she
chose, and there was nothing remark
| able in her being there.
She, like himself, had been occupied
with thoughts of the afternoon ;
/ refusal. He had always been kind
/ father, easy and indulgent, aud she was
| too ignorant and uuworldly to guess
the Importance he was likely to attach
| tSvoung Weatherley's proposal. He
would be disappointed. SO much she
| knew Yet she had but to tell him how
distasteful the thought of marriage was,
to have him on her side at once. His
beaming smile, and joyous air with
which he clapped his hands and rubbed
them at the fire, persuaded her that he
knew nothing of the days proceedings.
Ny dear" said Mr.. Bassett. speak
ing little thickl., Il am glad to lind
you out of bed, for have something of
great Importance to say to YOU !"
Yes" she answered, drawing an
ottoman near to his side and laying her
check lightly against his breast. She
was yeung to have found life so false,
but she had her refuge there. Her
cheek caresSed him aS it lay above his
heart. Her refuge there-her refuge
there.
Some little givlish coyneSs, dear"
he said, caressing her soft hair. and
speaking with a foolish thickness in his
voice. persuaded you To say No 10
young Weatherley this afternoon.
You must say Yes, my child. You
must say yes.
No, no. papa" said the girl, nest
. ling little closer yet and possessing
herself of one of his hands. ''Let me be
happy rs | am"
''My child" he said, with a spirituous
tear in either eye, '.vou are no, happy
rs You are"
His own sensibility naturally pleased
him, and he was satisfied to know how
good a heart he had and how kind 4
father he had always been and would
be. Confess it, my darling. You are
not happy as you are
81 am not very happy" she answered.
land | do not think the world is a very
happy place, papa" She tried to say
this lightly, as if there were half Jest
in it. but am nearer being happy
here than l can ever be anywhere else,
and you must let me stay with YOU.
''My darling" he responded, still
strokfng her head As it nestled at his
breast, there is no question of division
between us. Young Weatherley has
IhoSt generously asae me to snare his
home. Think, my dear. Is there moth
ing admirable and generous in th4heart
which offers an asylum to your father 5
age?"
II am sorry, dear" she answered.
- am very sorry, dear, if you are dis
appointed.
You will not disappoint me, DEAR"
he said. IF tell you once more how
much l desire this union, if let you see
clearly how much it means to me, you
will not disappoint me-"
Il tried to think of it, she answered,
land l found could not. You must
not be too disappoint d, for really l
shall be happy. very, very happy here
with YOU.
They were at cross purposes without
either knowing IL She thought he
pleaded for he: SAKE and so did he