, 1888-03-30
A R%EPENTANT GHOST.

" AlAAA bNAbAAAO Sh' u VIZ NAa'F u
men, if not the richest in the colony.
And now behold me in the strange pre-
dicament of a man, who, having made a
fortune, does not care for it'll Rich be-
yond most men, l was quite as inditfer-
ent as | was rich. l had set out with the
determination to make money, and now
that the money was made | regretted it.
OF what use was all this wealth? Lack
ing the one thing l most coveted, what
was gold-what was life itself but so
much Dead Sea fruit, fair indeed to look
upon, but inwardly dust and ashes! Did
l not already know?
1t is an old story, that of two men fall
ing in love with the same woman. One
of them prevails, and the other makes
what shift he can by way of covering
his defeat. And it is here, in this God
forsaken country, amid the arid but gold
bearing hills. that las one of those
''others,' have striven to-forECt. With
fcverish activity l threw myself into the
mad search for gold, or took long expe-
ditions into the unknown interior. And,
rs l have said, l finally struck it rich be-
yond my fellows.
Two years had passed away since my
arrival. | had a h~abitation-such as it
uncomfortable enough and convenient
enough for bachelor needs. Two native
servants made up my domestic corps.
Neighbors there were none within a
radius of five miles. My books and cigars
kept me company of an evening, and, as
to the rest, l kept my somber moods and
ways fairly well to myself.
To go pack to the beginning of that
memorable day. 1t had been raining
heavily all the morning; as the after
noon wore on it rained even harder, and,
when night set in, the~tain and darkness
combined made an almost impenetrable
wall of liquid blackness round the house.
Ughl the damp and the gloom made
one SILVER. l pulled the curtains close,
and, drawing my chair nearer the blaz-
ing logs, lit a cigar and began to rumi-
nate.
Somehow l was more han usually de-
pressed. My great fortune, instead of
raising my spirits, seemed to lower them.
Now that there was no further incentive
Ia work, what was l to do2 Spend
the money already acquired? l
felt less like i'll l cared nothing for lux
ury, power nor the numberlcss other
things that wealth secures. Even my
old love of adventure seemed to have
died out, and all of life's colors had taken
ON the hue of lead. With what was, the
''whnt might nave been rose up in con-
slant and sharp contrast. Do what 1
would. the old 'wound lad again re-
opened and was again silently bleeding.
That face-fool that | wa to let it SO
haunt mel That face was not for me r.
think of nor dream over. Tho right be-
longed to another-to Lloyd, let me not
forget the factl-Lloyd GarrisOnl
We were friends, you see, close
friends, from boyhood up. Similar as
we were in tastes, was it any wonder
that we loved the same woman2 And
yet, l am not SO sure of that, either. If
we were similar in tastes, we were ut
terly different as to disposition. Lloyd
was naturally frank, open, and when his
affections were concerned, contiding in
the extreme. / was the reverse. He, as
n rule, gave me all of his confidence, on
any and every subject. l seldom gave
him mine at all. Not that l did not
trust him-but it was not my way. If L
bad been less r%eticent, it might have been
better for us bothl And yet, how was l
to know? l never once thought of Lloyd
as n possible rival
Alma Farleigh was SO unlike the
woman one would fancy to be his choice
for wifel And yet, the very stateliness
of her pure, proud beauty, the cultivated
brilliancy Of her intellect and a certain
earnest steadfastness of natur that
seemed peculiarly her own; all this may
have been the loadstone that drew the
somewhat volatile and impulsive Lloyd
TO her side. Be this asst may, the fact
is that he was so DRAWN; and l, the
usual repository of all his secrets, wac
duly and calmly informed thereof l won
der now that l did not cut him short with
n declaration of my own sentiments in the
matter, and a proposal for a frank and
open contest in the future. But the long
habits of reserve, coupled with the fact
that l had been taken by surprise, held
me silent. To my undoing, l heard
him out and made no sign. And having
done SO, l felt committed to silence ever
after.
Was l n fool2 l have often thought
so since, and that, if l had not so com
pletely given way,oor had actively an
serted my rights, l might ave won her
for myself. But what is the use Of
thinking 80 now. 1t is all over-loHg
ago. The end came sooner than l eH-
pected-such endings always do. Lloyd
came again one evening. and this time
with the announcement that he had
asked Alma Farleigh to be his wife, and
that she had consented. How now to
play my part out. But / played ito
the bitter end. l gave him my congratu-
%lations, as an old friend should, and even
rallied him on his good fortune. And I'll
the time my very soul was alive to the
conviction that I had been unconsciouslv
laying up hope, and that for Garrison
triumphant, was myself undone. Here
again the long habits of reserve came to
my aid, and again l heard him out, and
made no sign. Of what use2 More
than ever now must l guard my
secret, and Lloyd Garrison, of all
men, was the last to whom l would
confde IL. you are a lucky fellow" ]
said. when is the happy event to come
Off" But Lloyd, somehow, did not
seem inclined to pursue the subject, and
soon after dropped it entirely with the
abrupt request that l would keep dark
for q time, as the matter was yet private.