Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1889-02-09
AN IMPoSToR.
CHAPTER ]

CHAPTER L.
My name has always been something of Q
trial to me, ii is so peculiar; not bad sort Of
name in its way-Hubert Heavyhand-but al
ways seems to me to suggest Pilgrims Pro-
gress" sounds like Mr.. Greatheart and others
familiar to my childhood. have considered
myself the only representative of the Heavy
hands since my fathers death, which took place
IN India when was boy at school, leaving
me-so far as know-relationless.
My guardians were responsible for me and
my money until came Of age. when, to the
horror OF those worthy gentlemen my first act
was to rush of to Paris to study art, scorning
the sedate paths of law, in which was sup
posed to follow my fathers footsteps to the
pinnacle OF fame, an Indian judgeship.
Art, and many things besides, 1 did study
during the years that knocked about that gay
capital of the ''beaux-arts," and behold me now,
man of twenty-six, priding myself on the
sensations-or loss of such--of fifty.
Having suddenly developed fancy to return
10 my native land. I am now settled in Ken
s'ngton studio. which have decorated on the
most artistic principles and fitted up in great
spiendor, and where am now supposed to be
working.
by Jove! you are snug" says Akers, inter-
ruptlng me at my breakfast about II o'clock
one bright June morning. Don't work too
hard, my dear Smasher"
don't relish his joke on my name, and wish
he would not bang the door. Akers inhabits
the studio next mine-a bare place compared
TO my .bric-a-brac shop" as he rudely calls
lt-and is not a bad sort Of fellow. but too fond
of jokes and so noisy.
oh! you gay butterfly" said he. taking in
my my detected e, appearance .if You win go dane,
forthwith he subsidies with his pipe into the
depths OF an armchair. and / return to the
waking dreams from which he had reused me.
II was true had been dancing till dawn, and
with the most lovely and most divine-no,
most human girl Alas for my blases feelings
was but a sanguine boy in her presence.
And what a waltzer! What ecstasy to float
with her to the yearning, passionate throb of
the waltz music; OR better still. to sit with her
IN the dusky, shaded conservatory, heavily
scented with roses, cool with splashing foun-
tains, and just enough glow from the fairy
lights to rosily tint those perfect shoulders,
| those arms.
"Ha! ha!' breaks in Akers noisy laugh; ''my
dear fellow, you have no idea how idiotic you
LOOK; now do not glare at me so-this suits you
much better" and he attempted languishing
| love-lorn air, idiotic enough certainly, but
am sure never looked like that.
Dreaming about that charmer you were
raving about yester eve? Tell me all; 'unbur-
den your sad soul of sighing.'"
But am deeply offended being touchy this
morning. and devote myself to my neglected
letters. among which is one in cramped pre-
else hand the sgnature-at which I first look
being &c. Heavyhand." 1t runs thus:
MY Dear Sir: Having seen your name in
the Royal Academy catalogue take the liberty
OF writing to you-a liberty which think my
name will excuse-and shall take it as per-
sonal favor if you would kindly send me all in
formation OF your branch of the family.
las you doubtless know. am engaged on a
work on the Heavyhand family, which have
traced from early Saxon times, and. until see
ing your name, had believed myself to be the
only representative of that illustrious line
whose name
''Boshl" l exclaimed; ssome old idiot trump
ing up Saxon descent and imaginary ances-
tors" and threw the note impatiently down,
| for was lamentably indifferent to such things.
LET us see," said Akers. interrupting his
song of Mimi Prison." and picking up the
note he read it through
''Some long-lost relative. my boy. waiting to
shower gifts upon your unworthy head, begin
ming with Saxon ancestors. no doubt. to be fol-
lowed by the boarded wealth of the Heavy
hands. How strange are. the works of Provi-
dencei Here am l; only last week my uncle,
in the flesh made himself disagreeable about
paltry affair. and my other uncle, you know
has lately been hardhearted to an extent"
by Jove! shall be late" cry as the clock
strikes twelve, and cutting short Akers' ha-
rangue, rush off to dress, for am I not to
"
| and my blue-yelvet lounging suit, however be-
coming, must be changed for '.get up more
suitable to the occasion.
Il say" Akers calls after me as vanish into
the dressing-room, what lark it would be to
write the old chap an answer; all sorts of rub
bish, you know; stuff him well with all sorts of
yarns about you and your ancestors; those old
, fellows will swallow anything"
l leave him chuckling over the idea and
when after a time--not short confess-I come
in ha 10 ot;l -
writing with great evident enjoyment and self
appreciation.
| am late, SO do not stop to inquire the mean
ing OF this unusual literary display and hunt
frantically about for my stick.
.Just listen to this saws Akers with great
pride, this will fetch the old fellow
But hat and stick are found and away rush
needless, Akers shouting after me, II shall
send it, you know; too good to be LOST
1t was an ambrosial luncheon tasted by the
side Of the lovely Miss Mostyn. Rita her
friends call her, short for Carita she informed
me; and blissful afternoon followed for I
escorted her-chaperoned by our hostess-to a
flower show. where our chaperon was obliging
enough to find an escort of her own. and all too
short were those hours among the roses.
/ was greatly cast down by the news that
Miss Mostyn was going down to the country
next day, going home to poor dear Uncle
George" who could not be left alone any
longer. The promise of '.lots of waltzes" at
alone gave me strength to bear the parting.
The next day was free from Akers inva-
sion. He had gone down to Surrey for O few
days to work, so staid in the studio all the
morning under the impression that was work.
ing, but believe spent most Of the time
making smoke rings and thinking-well, Of
Rita.
/ was disturbed by an impatient knocking at
my door, and as the small boy who was sup
posed to wait on all the studios on our floor
really waiting on nothing but his own convent
ence-made no sign, opened the door myself
and in bounced little old gentlemen with a
shining, excited face, holding out both hands
to me.
'.Mr. Heavyhand?" he exclaimed; "yes-ah.
my dear sir, how wonderful how truly delight
full this is!''
Not having the pleasure of knowing him. I
could not respond suitably to this enthusiasm
but he waited for no answer, and, grasping nv
hand, peered closely into my face through his
glasses. "Ah. yes; you are indeed one Of u.s. :"
he went on; 1.-The true Heavyhand coloring,
Saxon that, from Eadwi of Lincolnshire the
original Heavyhand. You know the story, of
course. how he slew his enemy with one blow
of his fist-features show the Norman blood,
that came later, of course: Edwig Ostrogson
married Emma, daughter of Hugh the Carver.
ennobled by the Conqueror. You will trace the
| same mixture in my own features, Ell? The
Heavyhands are all alike"
/ certainly did not find much resemblance
between myself and this very .'pudgy'' little
gentleman. but as he seemed amiable-though,
of course, quite mad-I thought best to humor
him by mildly agreeing, all the while wonder