The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1885-11-27
say, / may be mixing him up with

say, i may De mixing MIN up WITH
somebody else"
s.Why don't you ask him outright"
~ did hint at it once. One OF the
horses was 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 q horse together, Arnitt,' |
said to him. He looked up at me
quickly, q flash OF a look as if / might
| be a 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 q 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 IN an open wound, and.
wished / had let him alone. i 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;f for. ofcourse
| didn't want to make his burden
any beaverton him to carry. | knew
h~isface, but could not remember his
name, and should not try to find out.
Only / said Il do remember perfect
ly we'll that you didn't call me "my
lord" in the old days Don't talk
about the old days he burst out. 4
forfeited all that made them worth
having, and / can bear it; but don't
remind me OF them, ii you know what
| pity is-don't.' So of course | told
him | wouldn't, and no more 1 did. I
never tried to find him out, but I've
often thought about it, and tried to
fix tho name / knew belonged to the
face, but / never could; it has always
eluded my memory just as dream
often does. Yes, there is aqueerstory
at the back of Arnitt's hard life, 1
know that. It's 81 strange fate for q
man to have been q tuft at Brazenose,
and then aprivate in a marching regi-
ment, witha 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, and then 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 onthe
panel OF the door. 1t was opened by
The pretty, fair-haired wife, who look
ed worn to death, and had a baby in
her arms; two other children, yet lit
tie more than infants, chung to her
skirts, and the bigger ones stoodint the
background looking shyly on.
"Good-day, Mrs. Arnitt. How is
your husband?" 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 q harp
swept by a strong hand; she's very i'll.
indeed; and DIR. Granger scarcely gives
me any hope at ALL"
"Who's attending to him? Have
you got nurse or anybody to helI
your" Lord Archie inquired.
Eyes, my lord; Mr.. Oxford sent one
in as soon as ever he heard Arnitt
was ill-very ill, that is. But he will
never get over it, my lord-never.'
And lowering her voice almost to q
whisper. "He's got something on his
mind; I know it; I'm sure of it,"
"NVhat kind OF q something?" Lore
Archie asked.
~ can't tell that, my lord she an
swered; "but something there is, fol
certain. Arnitt is u very quiet
close sort of man, and though
he's one of the best husbands thai
ever drew breath, and has never
given me q cross word since we were
married, and has never raised his
hand to one OF the children-and they
are trying at times, there's no deny
ing it-he's never told mo q wore
about his past life, never a one.
don't know anything about him, my
lord, not even where he was born, OF
whether he has q relation in all the
world. But he isn't like me, my lord
and though he's no better now than 6
common soldier, he's q gentleman
Arnitt is; and sometimes Icouldfancy
he was ever more than that"
Lord Archie's conscience pricket
him q little that he was obliged il
honor to keep from this distressed
little soul, with her pretty fair hail
and blue tear-drownded eyes, the fac
that he knew the truth of much o
/, what she was saying. Then q sudde1
thought came into his mind.
"Would he like to see me, do yo,
Think" he asked.
81 feel sure he would, my lord" sh
answered.
"NYell, you might ask him." he said
for he had no desire to disturb wha
probably were his ex-groom's las
hours by recalling painfully to hi
mind the incidents Of the past-incj
dents which he most likely needed n,
stimulus to remember, and whicl
would now be crowding back upo'
him, as the past does when we hav
nearly done with the present.
[ So she went up the creaking littl
Z stairs with the baby in herarms, leay
ing Lord Archie standing in the mids
l Of the group of aw-stricken and be
| wildered youngsters. Hespoketo on
, or two ofthem, the eldest boy amongs
them, and found that Marcus Oxford
little anecdote had been iiberall
!, doctored in the matter OF pronuncis
} ton and accent, and that he in con
: mon with all others, spoke very we
indeed, and if not quite up to his ow
(, standard, still very much above til
average OF a better class ofchildre
than those living in thlt part OF Wa,