The National tribune. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1877-1917, 1888-04-26
MALCOLM FRAzER's "FoLLY HIS "DIUR-
NAL" BOOK.


little girl who gave me d lock of soft brown hair |
4 have it still, somewhere or other) when |
frst went to Oxford. She had eyes like DulcieI |
and think / kissed her that day when she /
gave me the hair. In fact / know did. How |
well 1 remember it-a brook studded with !
yellow marigolds, and weeping willows grow
ing on the margin. No one could see us under |
the willows, so | kissed her, and said | should
never forget her, aud she whispered "Oh,
come back soon from Oxford Malcolm Per-
haps l used to think l was in love with her.
But i was only -, and at that time thought
more of taking honOrs than Of matrimony.
And when l came back the little girl was gone.
Not very far-only as far as the Churchyard.
Poor little girl; and / have lock Of her hair
still.
viii not say that that is why never mar
ried. But l used to think | would wait until
I found another little girl just like that one,
and somehow | never found one until met
Dulcie-and, of course, now it IS too late. lie
is 4 lucky fellow, that poet of hers.
To-day | met Duicie coming back from the
Faringdons alone. Every other day Aubrey
has fetched her home, but to-day Mrs. Charlie
ton invited him to go out sea fishing with her,
and, as he told Dulcie, che did not know how
to refuse"
You see they are not engaged, so there IS no
earthly reason why he should dance attendance
on Dulcie. But there are taCit understand
ings that are as binding as promises, and /
can guess what he is feeling. He is a nice boy,
and don't think he would like to act di5hon-
Orably or unkiudly to any one. But what
! chance is there for young man when beauti-
! full woman falls in love with him2 lie IS
! bound to give in sooner or later.
Dulcie still worships her friend Ruby and
/ trusts her poet. But sometimes her eyes are
rather doleful, and I catch her watching bu-
| brey wistfully, as if al was not quite right.
! She and are better friends than ever, and she
| has as good as confded in me about herself and
| Aubrey.
Yesterday she said; If only had father,
| like you, who could advise me how to act.
am so ignorant. Sometimes everything seems
| puzzle"
So [ told her she might treat me as her father,
and that wished she was my daughter. So
do.
When I met her to-day we chose sunny
spot on the cliff and sat there; | with book
from which | was taking notes for lecture
/ am to give on my return to London, she
| with a well thumbed, inl1-stained school leXl-
con, over which she had spent many slow hours
/ drumming its contents into stubborn little
heads Her eyes were fixed on a small sailing
boat out st sea, where the widow and the poet
were pretending to fish.
Is this what you are teaching them ~ I
asked, pointing to her book; I suppose you
know every word by heart"
ooh, yes. l am sick of it, she said, push
ing it impatiently from her. sometimes l
am so tired, so tired Of it all l cannot help
it."
"Poor child" said, and could not resist lay
ing my hand over her little stability gloved
one.
at is different for us women" she went on.
"a man has so many things to hope fOr-fame,
or success of some sort. But we can do moth
ing. We have on J to go on with the same
dull work day after day, day after day, with
nothing to look forward to all ones life long.
It is dreadful always to be alone"
" / have always been alone too Now that l
am old and grizzly / am used to it, and am as
happy as grig. Perhaps you will be tOO."
" All, yes, perhaps, when I am DID," she an
sWered, making me feel at least double my
proper age. " Besides, you are very clever. and
man. 1T must be nice for you, because you
are learned, and people come for miles to hear
you speak; and you hayewritten books"
con the other hand, you are young aud have
your life before you. You viii marry and be
very happy. Take the advice of an old bach
elor, and don't worry your little head over
present troubles. There is great deal in being
young. Besides don't tell me you have moth
ing to look forward to-"
As I said the last words I glanced toward
the fishing boat, and she blushed and smiled.
But then, am so stupid, so dull and IN.
interesting" she whispered. "And when PEG
pie are very clever"
when people are very clever they see
true worth in any guise," ! interrupted :"
! am sure you don't need to be told that by me-
! NO" she said; then, irrelevantly. though
! could follow her train of thought " he is 81
l good, she added softly. "Too good for me-"
!, He does not think So"
at ought to be some one brilliant and clever
like Mrs. Charleton," she said. eff l were
man l should fail in love with her at first sight
/ know should"
but men do not always care for 'briIlian
Il j
women l have most liked and respected hav
been gentle creatures who find their life worl
in loving; women like you, Miss Duicie."
. Were you ever she began
/ quickly, then checked herself
Was / ever in love? Scores Of times. afte
s a fashion. Really in love-never When
2 was 10 l was nearest to it boys viii be Xix
that, you know. But we never met again-s
g here I am"
Did She die?" asked Dulcie, with sympa
: thetic eyes. Eyes? Oh, am SO sorry"
"Rcmember, l was not in love-" | hastene
i to explain wondering why had raked up tina
u old story for Dulcie's ears; only on the veTg
Of it."
y "Oh yes, understand" she said.
l. So she did, Of course. These young peoDl
= always do understand anything to do with lovt
e You have only TO tell them the first word an
10 they know the rest of the story.
see good deal now Of Dulcie She is b
= no means SO stupid as Sne luagineS. Sne NJ
q read good deal, and thinks over what she hs
i read, which is the true way Of acquirin
- knowledge We were talking the other da
ID about art, aud so fell into a discussion of wha
is vaguely called 1.-The Beautiful" and sine
D. then Dnlcie has been going through parts
e PIato's Dialogs with me. She is an intelligen
g pupil, and we both enjoy the lessons l SUI
IL pose / am wasting my time; but when on
meets q dear little fellow mortal whose plea
ures in life are few and far between, what ca
70 one do but try and add to their number?
OF Decidedly cannot leave Saltlinn before tn
or play is played out ! have a shrewd suspico
y that / myself have become an actor in it, tai
az ing the part of general confdant, berefacto
d, and peacemaker, while Mrs. Charleton, as
prophesied, has become prima donna in Il
place Of Duleie.
'e SEPT 12
% Every evening we meet--a partie carres
Mrs. Charieton calls tin the widows sttin
q room. Sometimes we talk on the balcony
-, play quiet rubber of whist, this last anus
- ment being got up especially for me, believe
- but oftenest Mrs CharletOn sings to US, while
- smoke my pipe aud try to turn a deaf ear
"A Dulcie and Aubrey's soto voce conYersatio
= Now and then Aubrey cannot tear himself fro
- the piano. on which occasions / have to tai
\ possession Of Duleie aud try to prevent h
~ from looking toward her lover 1t is Just
H. well she should not notice certain glanccs th