The news., 1885-07-21

llasf afferwsF - ss0od in the hall,
shaking hands all round, and saying
goodnight and goodbye.
"You understand, Jack" said my
uncle that it's only shift of premi-
ses; you're still our guest"
A knife and fork will always be laid
for you,' said my aunt, "and your bed
room kept ready. so that we shall re-
quire no notice of your return"
"You are very foolish to 90, Jack,
but there's no reasoning with men,"
exclaimed Amelia; and Sophie, as she
squeezed my hand. mumbled in a
whisper that might count upon her.
"God bless you all, and thanks" said
l; and, lurching through the hall door,
l gained the highway and stepped out
for my lodgings in Bristol
CHAPTER IN.
MY BRISTOL LODGINGS.
The first night in new lodgings,
when you are alone and in strange
town, does not always make pleas
ant memory. Nothing fits; the arm
chair is too big. or too little; the bed
mattress is too hard or too soft; the
wash-stand is in the wrong corner;
the toilet table is in the road of the
window; and the inhospitality of
things new to your habits is oppress-
i've. In London, the feeling that my
home was a lodging had been sunk by
custom; but the sense came up in me
very strong when | reached my Bris-
tol apartments, and stood in the bit of
a sitting-room, contrasting it with my
uncle's home, and gazing vacantly at
the table, on which were a bottle of
brandy, a hottie Of soda water, and a
cork screw, upon a cheap, brand-new
tray. heard mans voice rumbling
under my feet, and there was a smell
of coarse tobacco about and when |
cast my eyes around, and beheld no
books, no intellectual solace of any
kind outside the prints, which were
speedily to be exhausted, whether as
diversions or as moral instructors,
felt very lonely indeed, and sat me
down in the stiff-backed, hair-covered
armchair that stood nakedly confront
ing the frigid black CRATE and its bleak
furniture of fender and irons, with
misgiving upon me that | was acting
very much like donkey.
Sophie had promised to CALL and |
remained in my lodgings the whole
morning for fear OF missingher. Along
morning it was; but an end was made
of il shortly before noon by a hearty
knock on the door, and my cousins
were announced by the landlady.
They looked around them, evidently
amused by the size of the room and l
confess that, when they were seated,
it seemed to have shrunk to half its
real dimensions, owing no doubt to its
being pretty well8filled by the two fat
girls and myself They asked me how
I had slept, whether ] was likely to be
comfortable, whether my love for
Florence was going to be proof against
the loneliness of 1.-THE lodgers life, and
so forth. When say they, l mean it
was chiefly Amelia who asked these
questions, for th9fe was often little
touch of banter ih her, as if she never
thoroughly gave me credit for earnest
ness, while Sophie on the other hand
would always return sigh for sigh and
echo groan for groan. They had no
news 10 give me, They had merely
called to see whaesort of apartments /
had taken, and to know if / would dine
with them that evening.
"No," said l, "dont tempt me. /
want to inure myself to solitude. l
want to accustom myself TO my own
company; unless, indeed"
Sophie understood me. "No," said
she, "you will not see Florence"
Have you written to her."
"Yes," she answered, putting her
hand in her pocket, ''and here is her
reply" She gave me little cooked
hat note, the counterpart of the one l
possessed. 1t was dated 1890, proving
that Sophie had written very early in
deed, and that Miss Hawke had re-
piled Immediately. The little missive
trembled in my hand as read.
| DEAREST SoPHIE,-Papa is out, so |
must wait to tell him that your Cousin
Jack has left you. | shall not read
your letter to him, as there is. really.
no reason why he should know that
your cousin has taken apartments in
Bristol. The whole thing is quite alb
surd enough as it is. hope to see you
soon, and | trust, dear this foolish anx-
iety about me on papa's part will not
prevent you from calling, as, on my
side, certainly do not intend to let it
estrange us. am very much ashamed
that should have been the cause of
your cousin leaving you. know how
greatly you enjoyed his company but
though | am the cause, feel that am
innocently so, and let me assure YOU
that nothing ever surprised and yexed
me more than papa's desire that /
should not visit you while your cousin
remained at your house.
Yours sincerely, FLORENCE HAWKE.
"P. 81 suppose you will often see
your cousin Poor fellow l hope he
has found nice apartments.
"There's deal in that note about
you, isn't there, Jack ?" said Amelia
after had read it twice through, and
was beginning for the third time.
There is indeed" l exclaimed.
thrilled by the references; but what
does she mean by saying the whole
thing is quite absurd enough ?"
"That her papa's conduct is absurd, y
answered Sophie.
Are you sure? said |, doubtfully,
looking at the sentence in the letter.
"You don't think she means mine, do,
your"
They were both so confident on that
|IEsRd that they vanquished my mis-
! asked Sophie if she meant
=. lodge. She said that
nsebiect she would
NJ.