The Washington critic., 1886-11-06
A HAPPY OCCASION.

"Do not come too late" That was the
wording of the telegram which Captain
Richard Irton held In his hand as he sat,
In temperature of 1899 In the shade,
on the veranda of his Indian bunga-
low.
"Do not come too late?" he muttered
to himself. by Jove. as If 1t were prob
able that he would dawdlc now 1t was
just like Mrs. Lennox to send such a
chatting wire as this. He might have
been a long time making up his mind,
but 1t was made up now, and he meant
to go home and marry her. 1t was her
last letter that had settled the matter
the letter in which she limited that Lord
Shorthorn was awfully "mashed." No,
he wasn't going TO stand by and see
Dorothy LennoX married to cad like
Shorthorn. He had been whole year,
he reminded himself, in this Internal
station, with its furnace heat, its inlne
gossip. and Its eternal tennis and polo.
How he loathcd the very sight of his
majors wife, with her white eyelashes,
her malicious giggle and her flirting
mapnersl
And then he thought of Mrs Lennox.
He remembered the first night he met
her-in the ballroom of great II ous1
In London-and how he had seen her
surrounded by dozen other fellows,
and how he had "made the running"
and had cut out all those outsiders. And
he recollected the call he had paid
next day at her tiny house in Park
street, when she had been so sweet and
graceful, and had talked to him as no
woman had ever talked before. He
didn't go In for brains or any of that
rot. but, by Jovel Dorothy LennoX
made him feel another fellow. lie
thought Of the cool, amber.tinted room
where she always sat- with its droop-
ing palms, its masses of azaleas, It's
Rajon etchings and its blue. and-white
Nankin. 1t was always cool and cosy
in Mrs. Lennox's house, and she had
way of taking fellows hand and
looking him seriously In the eyes
which was quite irresistible. He re.
membered how 1t had become almost q
habit to drop in of an afternoon, to
lounge on her soft divan and listen to
her half.chafling talk and her low, de-
licious laugh. And when woman is
deuced good looking as we'll as clever,
why, what is fellow to do? Perhaps
. 1t was wrong TO make love in quite
such n serious way as he did, but, hang
it! she wasn't kitten, and she might
have known he wasn't the marrying
sort.
All that was year ago, but he hadn't
forgotten her bit-worse luck. Aud
her letters-how awfully nice they
were how like herself Not spoony,
like those he wrote to her, but frank,
humorous and thoroughly bon cdH'n.
gade. Hang it all it was much easier
TO keep heart-whole in London than
in this sultry and monotonous hole.
lie had managed to evade Compro-
missing himself definitely, even when
he had gone to bid Mrs. LennoX good
bye, although he had been perilously
near proposing to her that last evening;
but he had got away, aud nothing had
been said which would have tied him
down to an engagement.
Dick, in his rowing life, had commit
ted every folly except that which he
considered the hugest folly of all--the
folly of tying yourself to one woman
for life. He remembered how he had
congratulated himself on all this when
he went on board the Jumna. Was he,
the best.looking fellow and keenest
sportsman in the 150th llussars, to
knock under like any spoony young
sub the moment he met pretty
woman? But now things were changed.
He had never bargained, somehow, for
her marrying again. he had got to look
upon her more or less as his own.
When she had written that letter with
oil the illusions to Shorthorn in it
his blood had fairly boiled. He didn't
regret bit the letter he had written in
reply, telling her he was leaving
India the very day he could get
leave, and asking her to be his wife.
After all, why shouldn't he marry ?
lie was over 30, and he had had, as he
remembered with smile, his cling"
The other fellows in his regiment
used to chaif him and call him
Casual and said that he never did
to-day what he could put of till to.
morrow. But that was all nonsense.
He could make up his mind like other
men, even to matrimony. And here
was her answer to his letter: "Do not
come too late" We'll, he had got his
leave, and would be with her in three
weeks.
Mrs. Lennox was the sort Of woman
about whom peoples tongues arc al
WAYS wagging. Hardly was her late
husband borne beneath nodding plumes
to Kensal Green than she was married,
In prospective, to at least dozen ad
mirers She was u great success in
society, for besides being charming
woman, she was fashionable pOetess
writing words for Tosti's songs, and
publishing small volumes of verse,
bound in white parchment and printed
on extra thick paper. Talt and slight,
with smooth dark hair and liquid eyes,
she had Il face full of character and
determination. To look at Mrs. Len
nOX was to know that She was n woman
who rapidly made up her mind, and
who, once having done so, was not
likely to alter 1t. But two years had
passed away since her husbands death
and this nineteenth century Sappho
had not consoled herself And then
had come the Dick Triton episode.
II was bright morning in June
WHEN Captain Irton arrived Mt Char.
ing Cross Station, thoroughly tagged
and wearied with his long Journey.
lie had come as fast us p. and o,
steamers and mail trains can bring a
man from Bombay to the Strand. But
in couple of hours he hoped to have
rid himself Of all signs of travel, to
have got inside decent coat. aud to
be in the shady drawlng,room in Park
street, with Dorothy LennoXs soft
arms round his neck. lie felt very
sleepy and somewhat Nggrioved, for
he had nursed the unreasoning hope
of seeing her at the station, although
she could not possibly know exactly
when he would arrive. lie had started