The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1886-01-30
"That's jes' what 1 do mean, sir, an no
offence" said he apologetically.
Then went home to dinner.

began to NIL great part OF my tnouSuls.
| am a man of taste, and admire grace and
beauty, simply from an artistic point of
view, but not in the least like some young
men who are continually wondering what
sort of impression they are making. | am
old enough not to expect woman to form
a romantic attachment to me, although |
see no reason why their society should not
amuse me. In fact, [ prefer it to that of
my own sex when they are young and in
teresting; principally, perhaps, because they
rarely contracdict one rudely or interrupta
man when he is talking about himself.
l don't think there is much in me to
interest a woman now. A girl with a
shade of romance would have difficulty in
accepting me as lover. Fancy young
woman addressing me as @Henry, dear
a man who ought to have grown-up daugh-
tiers of his own, and who gets out of breath
if obliged to run upstairs! [ could not
permit such familiarity. l protest that if
any girl did become attached to me | should
consider it my duty to make more stren-
uous efforts to cure her than Lancelot did
in the case of Elaine.
No, no, there is no nonsense about me,
but only certain amount of dormant poet
nv. and this had been awakened by Miss
Lyall.
The next day 1 went up to London to
the club. Brown dropped in and declared
with emphasis that | looked ten years
Younger than when he last saw me.
This pleased me and | asked him to
lunch, simply, 1 confess, for the pleasure
of talking about Miss Lyall, for when am
full of a subject Unjust speak oft; weak
ness, know, but one am too old to cure.
We had an excellent lunch, l remember,
and a particularly good Mayonnaise. |
am very fond of Mayonnaise; it always
seems to fix lunch on my memory. l
wish it agreed with me better
| told Brown of my meeting with Miss
Lvall, and it seemed to amuse him, but
while was doing my best to describe her
eyes and features he interrupted me rather
rudely, | thought, with an unnecessary
laugh, exclaiming:
@Why, Merton, my willy old bachelor,
the Girl has made quite an impression on
YOU. Ask me to the wedding. Come
and see Merton, the married man. All !
ah ah !"
| hate iippancy and regretted that l
had asked him to lunch. "Nonsense,
Brown" said l, little irritably; "a man
can surely admire pretty girl without
causing absurd jokes. Old fogies like you
and me don't expect girls to fall in love
with them"
Brown is quite as old as l am, but |
could see he did not like to be bracketed
with me as harmless old bachelor, for l
am told he is still invited to evening par
ties and dances good deal after supper
with girls who are just out. After lunch
it occurred to me that since had spoiled
Miss Lyalls book it would be polite to re-
place it. 1t was Shelley, l remembered.
All young and ardent souls read Shelley.
l used to myself at one time, but do not
appreciate him so much now, having, per-
haps. become more reconciled to "things in
general" Accordingly | procured the
edition by w. NJ. Rosetti, in three volumes,
! and forwarded them to her with a little
note, a literary effort which cost the club
several sheets of paper before l was salts
fed. Brown came up while L was direct
ing the envelope and asked me ironically if
1 had been writing poem.
"a poem, indeed!" exclaimed L testify
Why?"
aBecause you have such seraphic
smile on your venerable face" he answered,
grinning.
1t is generally wiser to hold ones tongue.
People do misconstrue so. This was the
commencement of my friendship with
Edith. She wrote me little note of thanks,
and hoped 1 would call at Fairlawn, which
did on the first opportunity.
Mrs. Lyall was rather majestic lady,
who evidently contrived to have her own
wav in the house. Edith was charming.
She had way of talking of the weather,
which was most interesting and absorbing.
Women with deep gray eyes and long lash
, es have. Her mother quite agreed with
the views expressed on modern Radical
isn't is always safe to pitch into Radi-
Gals when you are talking to ladies, ii
sounds so respectable.
, eyes" she remarked with sigh, "we
live in dangerous times"
wv e 10, GCuOCU L.
~ suppose all progress does seem dan.
gerous to people who don't want to move,
Edith remarked.
A liberal sentiment, for which her mother
was reproving her when BERTHE appeared
, Upon my thanking him with dignity fol
his assistance he remarked that he anC
, Edith had laughed like anything about il
afterward. Schoolbcys are foolish crea-
, lures, ready to giggle at anything, and un
pleasantly frank when it is question Of
: other people. This visit was the first O
MANY, and Edith, who seemed to grow
A more charming every time | saw her, ac
quired so much influence over me that, haC
, it not been for discovery made, l con
5 fess it was not unlikely that | might have
4 made donkey of myself. discovered
she had lover. went one afternoon t.
S Fairlawn, and Mrs. Lyall told me that Edit
had gone to lunch with some friends, ant
: would not be home till the evening. Aban
doning all hopes of seeing her on that day
h and thrown for my amusement on my owl
resources, went after dinner for an even
1 ing ramble. The air was calm and clear
:. and finding a comfortable seat on still
r Between two fields, | sat watching tn
e shadows deepen and listening to a nightin
gale. The light grew DINNER, a pale sta
e appeared in the sky; afar off could hea
a the water rushing over distant weir.
suddenly detected light footsteps in tn
3 field behind me, then the rustling of a dress
and, turning my head, 1 saw Edith on tn
, other side of the stile. She started bac
S in surprise.
a aWhy," I exclaimed in astonishmen,
d az heard you were spending the day witt
e the As" They lived far away in an
o other direction.
81 did lunch there, she said little mel
+ vously.
aBut this isn't the way back from thei
house."
"Im not coming from there
"Oh," said /, and helped her over tn
stile.
t. aMr. Merton" she said, after paus'
1t 81 want you to do me favor"