Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-01-28


 Shortly after her marriage the father and mother died within eigh,een months of eacb other, and Eustacc found his lot in lfs radi- cally changed. He had been his fathers secretary after leaving college, which pre- vented his making any serious efforts to sue ceed at the bar, and in consequence his in. terests, both of head and heart, had been more concentrated than is often tho case with young man within the walls of his home. He had admired his father sincerely, and the worth of his mothers loquacious and sometimes meddlesomc tenderness he never realized fully till he had lost it. When he was finally alone it became necessary for him to choose line in llfe. His sister and he divided his fathers money between them, and Eustace found himself with fortune such az in the eyes of most of his friends constituted a leading of Providence towards two things marriage and Reat in parliament How ever, fortunately, his sister, the only person to whom he applied for advice was in nc hurry to press decision in either case upon him. She saw that. without tho stimulus of the fathers presence, Eustace's interest in politics was less real than his interest in let ters, nor did the times secm to her propitious to that philosophi conservatism which might be said to represent the family type of mind So she stirred him up to return to some of
 
 and she were first bitten with passion for that great, that fascinating French litera. tur- which absorbs, generation after genera. ton, the interests of two-thirds of those who are sensitive to the things of letters She suggested book to him which took his fancy, and in planning it something of the old zest of life returned to him. Moreover, 1t was book which required him to spend part of every year i'll Paris, and the neigh. borhood of bis sister was now more delight full to him than ever.
 So, after time, he settled down content, edly in his London chambers with his books about him, and presently found that glow ot labor stealing over him which is at once the stimulus and tho reward of every true sou of knowledge. His books reconciled h i'm te life again, and soon be was as often seen iu the common Launts of London society as be. fore He dined out, he went to the theatre, he freQuented his club like other men, and every year he spent three of the winter months in Paris, living in tho best French world, talking as he never talked in London, and cultivating, whether in the theatre or the salons of his sisters friends, or In the studios of some of the more eminent of French artists, @ fastidious, critical temper which was rapidly becoming moro and more cx- acting, more and more master of tho man. z
 Now, on this May afternoon, as hc settled himself down to his work, 1t would have given any of those who liked Eustace Kendall and they were many-pleasure to see how the look of fatigue with which he had re- turned from his round of the academy faded away, how he shook back the tumbling gray locks from his eyes with the zest and eager ness of one setting forth to battle, and how as time passed on and the shadows deepened on the white spire opposite, tho contcntment of successful labor showed itself in the slow unconscious caress which fell upon the back of the sleeping cat curled up in the chair be- side him, or in the absent but still kindly smile with which he greeted the punctual en- trance of the servant, who at s o'clock came to put tea and the evening paper beside him and to make up the fire, which crackled on with cheery compamonable sounds through the lamplit evening and far into the night