Sacramento daily record-union., 1888-09-01

pretty ana nice as 1heO. She is the dear
est, and prettiest, and sweetest girl in the
whole world" Dollie retorted energeti-
eally, and then, with gasp, she added ::
"And you ought to be ashamed of your
sell, you horrid old man, to make her so
unhappy, that you ought tr'
Never in the whole course of his life
had the good Bishop been half so much
astonished and bewildered as he Was by
this sudden, unexpected accusation. For
a minute he simply gasped and stared at
Dollie, and she stared back at him with
defiant, frightened eyes; then ne said
My dear child, what do you mean?
How have | made your sister unhappy |
scarcely know her.
" You have made her unhappy, both her
and Mr.. Chetwyndl And it is too bad of
you, when they love each other so much :;
Just because you are so old and ugly, that
nobody would want to love you or marry
you" Dollie went on in her shrill, excited
voice, You don't want anybody else to get
married"
And then she drew short but trenehant
parallel between the Bishop and the fox
which had lost its tail, which at any other
time would have vastly amused him; but
now he was too bewildered and also too
troubled to feel any amusement.
/ think you had better tell me all
about it, my DEAR" he said gravely. "Do
l understand you to say that Mr.. Chet-
wynd is in love with your sister?'
OF course he is; only what is the use
of being in love when you won't let him
marry her?' Dollie cried. And then, car
ried away by her feelings and forgetful of
her promise of silence, she poured a toll
erably correct version of the story Theo
had told her into the Bishops attentive
ears.
He listened in silence, not without some
faint anger, some great disappointment.
He had hoped so much from his young
neophyte, from the young disciple who had
sat at his feet and drunk in his words of
wisdom, and who was to all appearance
following so steadily in his footsteps. And
it was q great shock and bitter disap-
pointment to him to find that already the
one on whom he had fixed his hopes. to
whom he had intrusted the completion of
the many schemes which he had set on
foot, but which in all probability he would
not live to carry out, had turned aside
from the path they had marked out to-
gether and was hankering after forbidden
ljoys. And yet, severe though his disap-
pointment was, there was mingled with it
a faint feeling of pride and satisfaction
After all, his pupil had been loyal to his
training, to his teacher. Great though
the temptation was, he had been strong
enough to put it aside, and had preferred
! to crush back the natural yearnings of a
young mans heart, rather than prove dis
! loyal to his masters teaching There was
good stuff in the lad. the Bishop thought
approvingly. But it was pity-a great
pity!
He looked so grave and sad that Dollie
grew frightened. Her anger died away,
and the remembrance of her promises to
Theo, which in her agitation she had quite
| forgotten, came back to her. She put out
her hand and touched the Bishop gently.
"Are you angry with me?" she whis-
pered in a subdued voice.
The Bishop smiled kindly He took her
hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
No, my child. am not angry-only
very sorry" he said absently.
"And you won't tell Theo, or Mr.. Chet-
wynd, or anybody that told you,"
Dollie went on in an imploring tone.
"She would be so angry with me, and 1
can't bear Theo to be angry. II love
her So" Dollie said, clasping her small
hands fervently. $50 don't tell her,
please"
The Bishop smiled again.
No, l wouldn't tell her." he said. "I
think, with you, that she would not like
to know that you had told me this, so we
will keep it a secret between us-eh, Miss
Dollie? You can keep a secret, can't you?
And | will promise you another thing" he
added more gravely, that if it is as you
say, and if / am the only obstacle in the
way of your sisters happiness, that obsta-
Gle shall be very soon removed. There"
he held out his hand with a kind smile,
" let us shake hands on the bargain"
They were the best of friends after that.
| The Bishop got out at the next station
and bought some chocolate and long
! desired book of fairy tales for Dollie, at
| the sight of which the delighted child's
| face frightened into absolute beauty; and
they were both mutually sorry when they
reached the station where Dollie was to
alight and they had to say good-by to each
other.
The Bishop had to attend several meet
ings that day, and was too much occupied
1 to bestow any more thought upon such a
trivial matter as his godson's love story
! but late at night, when all the arduous
work of the day was over, when all of his
household but himself were in bed and
asleep, and he was sitting alone in his
study, it arose before him vividly again.
What if he had made mistake-if his
pupil were right and he wrong after all,
he wondered. Some words which had
been said to him only short time before,
! by poor fellow whom a terrible accident
had bereft at once of wife and children,
and to whom the Bishop had gone with
kindly words of consolation and sympa-
! thy, came back to him.
Eh, We mean well, my Lord" the man
had said-"ye mean well, but ye never
had wife and BARNS yourself an We
can't understand what their loss means to
me-"
And the Bishop had bowed his head and
in silence acknowledged the truth of the
words, and felt that he in his ignorance
could not fathom the anguish of that grief
stricken heart.
Might it not have been possible that his
sympathies would have been wider his
heart larger-that he could have done
better and nobler work in the world, and
drawn closer to the hearts of his people, if
ne 100, ike OtleT Ilell, Hdu hDOWn more
of earthly joys and sorrows, had loved and
been loved again, had rejoiced at the mar
riage feasts or wept by the graves of his
children? And then there rose before him
a vision of a fair face, whose sunny blue
eyes and golden waving hair had once, in
his undergraduate days, touched his heart
and tempted him to turn aside from the
settled purpose of his life. Love had
passed by him very closely once but he
had no welcome for it, and it had left him
forever; and now old age was coming
rapidly upon him, lonely old age, un-
cheered and unbrightened by love of wife
or child, and he would go down to his
grave full of years and full of honors, and
die as he had lived-a lonely, loveless man.
Sitting there alone in his study, sur
rounded by the beloved companions Of his
life, his books, he looked back over his life,
and, honorable, and useful and blameless
as he felt it to be, he acknowledged that
there was something wanting in it, that
in spite of its success and honors, it was
but poor, incomplete thing after all; that
there was another and more excellent
yvav W hinb he had failad 10 600 A,I ,,o,r