The Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1885-1886, 1886-06-02
A CORRECT MISTAKE.

Mrs. Murray was wife CT the vicar Of St
Stephens, Whitechapel, an elderly, scholarly,
unsuccessful clergyman, whose means were
wholly inadequate to meet all the claims
made on him by a numerous family The
son-Davia by name-had early developed
intellectual tastes; his expenses at school and
college had been betrayed by a wealthy &C.
centri- kinsinan of his mother Tile youth
turned out shy, stndious, and dreamy, the
possessor of an enthusiasm for poetry, but .,
little practical ability, and of no instructive
knowledge of the world
Mrs Murray belonged to wealthy family
who had taken umbrage at her marriage with
a poor parson Her brothers and sisters had
consigned her to oblivion, and her name was
omitted from her fathers will But few
widow of fabulousy rich East India mer-
chant, named Wilton, held out the golden
se,rter of reconciliation. and Mrs Murray
touched it with trembling rapture Il ana
anxious to make the acquaintance of your
eldest lad wrote Mrs. Wilton "You
have not yet, suppose, seen your
way to pdtting him into any profession.
J am resolved to like the lad: even build
castles ia the air for him, and have in my
head a scheme for his marriage with my hils-
bands ward, Joyce Balfour, who lives with
me and is my heiress Send your son to
Florence, to pass the winter here and to re-
turn with us in the spring. Let him spend
what time and see what places he likes en-
route. enclose a check for his travelling ex-
pensts'
Mrs Murray was only too glad to receive
her sisters overtnres. She told herself, in
her simple piety, that Providence had opened
a way for the provision of her son; she called
Oh David to rejoice with her.
But David refused to rejoice. One clause
in the letter-tliat relating to possible mar
riage between joyce Balfour and himself
had aroused his ire
"N no is this joyce Balfour, mother" he
| askel, tossing aside the momentots letter,
a know little more of her than your aunt
! tells MS, dear; She was Mr. Wiltons ward, is
rather younger than you. | fancy, and |
have heard that she has considerable prop
, erty When She nherits my sisters estates,
| in addition to her own, she will be enorm-
ously rich Your amtf-with a slight pause
| and wistful look in Dayid's direction-"was
always fond OF match making. If her fancy
| for an engagement between You two young
people should I've realized, your fortune would
| he made, David
| But don't want my fortune to be made
after that fashion," cried the young man
hotly What do | know, and what do |
care, about Miss Balfonr!"
| AT least Won will not decide in the matter
till You have seen Miss Balfour, David"
mo. | will not decide till | have seen her. "
| "And YOU will go to F'loreneei
| David rose walked to the window and
| looked out. But he saw nothing; his thoughts
were far away. "Florence" was a fas-
einating name to the untraveled lad; he
wished that his errand there were not SO I'M
welcome
| YES | will go he said slowly.
| A few days later the young man started on
| his travels In the excitement inseparable
from a first foreign tour, the object Of his
| wanderings was almost forgotten. He went
through the usual viciSsitudes Of long jour
ney The usual important package was left
| behind and its absence as usual discovered
too late for recovery. Then came hurried
meals at railway stations, then views of mo
| notonotls French landscape, with its inevta-
bic long, straight rows of poplars, then
glinIpses of holder scenery, of chalets, and OF
| snow peaks, and then Switzerland burst upon
| Davids view.
At last Italy vas reached; at last, Milan
lay like A dream behind him, and one early
morning found him sleeping fitfully in rail
| way carriage, and nearing Venice At {
O'Clock he awoke, rubbed his eyes, opened the
| window and looked out He was on the bridge
| -nine miles long-which connects Venice
with the mainland In short time the forms
and clustering houses began to reveal them
| selves against the horizon; the train whizzeG
on, and presently the city of the Adriatic lay
| broad and clear, before David's eyes. The
young man held his breath as he gazed But
railway station is the last place for senti
| mentalisIn, and before the platform of th(
railway station the train came in few
minutes, to a standstill. Before the station
were a number of gondolas, their proprietor,
hailing passengers with deafening cries o
"tiondoli, signori. Signori, gondoli, gon
DOH
What hotel does the signore commando
asked, hat in hand, David's gondoHer, 1
weather beaten old Venetian, with the man
ners Of duke.
'The Anglaterre, returned David
Soon he YVES gliding on, along the grand
canal, under tle bridge of the Rialto, past the
fruit market, with its wealth Of grapes ans
| pumpkins, beside woIld-famed Gothic ol
| Renaissance palaces. FL was in Venice a
last--in Venice the city of Dreams and tn,
whole scene had come upon him SO suddenly
that he failed to grasp the reality of his sur
| roundingS.
1t was with sense of good day.
work well done that he took his sea
that evening at table d'hote, stitied a hungry
| yawn, stretched bis tired legs under the tabl
and looked about him. The windows looked
fnll on the Riva; paintive little fac,
peeped in, through the curtains, and plain
tive little voice solicited aims
Excuse me DO You know whether Their,
is to be singing on the grand canal, to night2
said a voice i'll English, in Dayids ear Some
thing in the tone at once arrested and fasci
mated his attention He looked quickly dow
to face turned to this and the bloc,
| mounted into his own face with rush. Tn
propounder of the question was his neares
neighhor, a young girl, the owner of TIN
most attractive face that David had eve
seen. From beneath a mass of glorious red
brown hair looked pair of the merriest
brightest eyes IN all the world The nos
with its slight tendency to turn saucily up
ward, the dimpled chin, and the laughin;
mouth with its sweet lips, made up a pictur
which daZzled and bewidered David
"i-I-don't know" he stammered. 9Th
ways of this place are strange to me; | only
came into VENICE this morning. Then h
bent over his soup feeling strangely shy ans
embarrassed.
Indeed Do you intend to remain lonrg
The girls manner was, in its frank friaiiili
| ness, a broad contrast to David's own
was hardly, perhaps, the manner usllalll
adopted 10y ladies in addressing stranger o
the other sex, but its fearless ease had in
nothing deserving the mysterious adjectiv
fast"
about week. am going to Florence
"To Florencew The girl turned on Davi'
rapid, inquiring glance. "Whyi believe,
she said, suddenly laying down her spoon, am
laughing an amused little laugh, that know
who you are"
"Who ! am?"
aVas How odd that chould have cnrn