Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1886-01-03
LOVE IN A LIFT.


KtV0iI<SO w " OIutt8Ht VuSs ess>e -
heart Of the London shopkscper re
joiced. perssctly-appointed carriages
rolled In On endless stream along tn
more spacious thoroughiares or stoo'
in long lines outside the various shop
patronixed by their fair owners. Bone
street vas hopelessly blocked. 1t wa
Just such scene that may be witnessed
any fine day between April and July
bat to one tall, dark, sunburned man
whose upright carriage betrayed hi
profession, the whole phantasmagori'
Of fair women, perfectly well-got-uI
men, equally well-got-up carriages, ant
lofty "steppers, was replete with the
charm Of comparative novelty. Blu
though the scene was inspiring enough
be did not linger long in the region 50
cred to the Eleusinian mysteries Of shop
ping. just rs he was crossing tho
threshold Of the Bayonet Club he wa.
hailed by well-remembcred voice.
Bourchier by oil that's wonder.
full Why, l thought you were faI
away at Bsngalore.''
The speaker was fair, fresh-colored
man, . little over thirty, of the familiar
type of the man-about-town; we'll
dressed, spruce, and with the air of one
who is on good terms with himself and
all the world.
"Come and have q cigar and chat.
Why, II must be ten years since you
left England"
at is. Tshall be = sort Of modern
Rip Van Wrinkle"
"Nonsense, man We don't forget
our friends quite so soon, even in Lon
don." retorted the other, leading the
way into the smoking-room.
snow for your news, Huntley,"
said Bourchier, IS he settled himself in
an easy chair and lighted q cigar.
"Who has been born, who has married,
who has died since I saw you lasts
sLet me think. II is difficult thing
to arrange ones ideas when one is bid
den TO stand and deliver ike that"
In spite Of this protest, Huntley du-
ring the next half-hour contrived to re-
tail fair amosnt of gossip.
"You remember Lady Ida Samer-
tonr'' he said, suddenly. Pretty girl,
blue eyes, complexion roses and cream,
aud that sort Of thing. Heiress, too.
She fell in love with Seton, of the
Guards, who hadn't a shilling 10 bless
himself with. Her guardian didn't see
it cut up rough and wouldn't hear Of
it. But she married him, though, when
she came of age" added Huntley, rue
fully, for he had certain tender remem-
brances of his own in connection with
the fair heiress. Perhaps the associa-
ton Of ideas prompted his next remark.
"By the bye, Bourcher, wasn't Rosa
lie Dryden an old flame of yours:
"That's a leading question with a
vengeance" replied the other with
a rather forced laugh, as he pulled
viciously at his moustache. " But what
Of her? She married some rich city
man, didn't she?"
"Yes; Josiah 0rmskirk. Fellow
who made his money on the Stock
Exchange. Died couple of years
ago and left his wife rich widow.
Awfully good thing for her, for l be-
lieve he rather led her life of it for
some time before his death. Hadn't
you heard Of it
"No. He must have died during
my absence at remote place up in the
hills, where hardly ever saw a news
paper"
SHOW did you manage to exist !?
Well, Mrs. Ormskirk is beginning to
20 out into society again. | saw her
in the Park only yesterday, and, by
Jove, she looked quite as pretty and
almost as young as she did ten years
ago."
"Yes, she was very pretty assent
ed Bourchier, and he added bitterly,
sand she took her charms to the best
market, as most women do"
"Come, old fellow, don't be cyni-
CAL" said Huntley. "Have another
cigar, and let us talk about something
else"
But the mention Of his old loves
name seemed to have taken away
Bourchier's appetite for society gossip
He rose slowly and looked at his
watch.
Five O'Clock. Old habits are things
of strong growth. think l shall
stroll down to the Park and see what is
going on. DO you feel inclined to come
too, Huntley?"
"No, thanks. feel lazy this after
noon, SO / shall look through the eve
ming papers. There has passed away a
glory from the Park. One gets tired Of
the eternal mill.round in time"
"Well, I'm off, at any rate, for an
hours stroll" And with good
hundred smile and parting shake of
the hands the two men parted. As
Bourchier sauntered on toward the
park his thoughts went back to Ger.
tain November afternoon, when he and
Rosalie had ridden home together after
= quick run with the Pytchley, and love
had got the better Of prudence, and he
had proposed and been refused. Pretty
Rosalie, though she had only the ex-
perience Of single season, had enough
Of worldly wisdom to know that though
Vincent BouTchier was handsome, clever
enough to be . pleasant companion, of
good birth, . brave soldier The had
already distinguished himself at the
age Of five and twenty, be was no
mate for her. She was penniless but
ambitious girl, dependent upon the
wbims Of her aunt, Lady Silverthorne,
. stern matron, who had preached her
pretty niece many q sermon on the
folly and wickedness Of girls who mar
ried poor men.
IL don't think you are the sort Of
woman who would be happy with two
new gowns . year, she was in the
habit Of saying. think Of living in
q. six-roomed house in the suburbs,
with 9 maid Of al work to wait on
you, No, Rosalie, you must marry q
rich man, or wash my hands Of
you" = '". f1
Miss Dryden had not sufficient
strength Of character to defy her aunt
and marry Vincent Bourchier, whom.
in her heart Of hearts, she knew she
loved. A couple Of months or so
later Josiah 0rinskirk proposed 10 her
and was accepted. o. b sasaqa b