Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1889-03-17

burden OF his cry. His poor wife,
and the shock il would be TO her, and
the downfall Of hopes He knew thai
she as woman must recoil from sucn q
daughter-ln-Isw far more than he did,
who had known Grissel's mother, and
knew, too. that actresses may be good
and true women. IL would be dreadful
for her-the Archdeacon knew it; but
he valued one thing above even the peace
OF his home, and that was his honor. III
was not in sarcasm we called him good
man. To break his word to the dead
woman who had trusted him to leave
this girl, whom it behooved him to pro.
tect, in the hands OF her wretched
father. and so to leave her with her faith
in goodness shattered-this Archdeacon
Yale could not DO.
But no was tempted tina. night to think
hard things of Jack. to think that Jack,
who had never given him the heartache
before. had yet better not have been
born than bring this trouble on them.
1t went no further than temptation, and
he was msrvellously thankful next morn
ing that he had not framed tho thought
in words for, as he entered the break
fast-room, looking year older than he
had seemed chipping his egg yesterday,
the hall-porter put telegram into his
hands. "Come at once, Jack, were
the words that first made themselves in
/ telliqible to him and then. but few
seconds later, the address, est. Thomas's
Hospital"
How swiftly does a great misfortune, a
great loss. a great pain, expel less J.! |
have known a man to lose his wife and
90 heavily for a month, and then losing
a thousand pounds become az oblivious
of her az il she had never been born.
But tine Archdeacon was not such a man,
and rafting toward Westminster in a cab
felt not only that thousand pounds
would be small price to pay for his
sons safety, but that, ii Providence
should take him at his thought, he might
have worse news for his wife than those
tidings which had almost aged him in q
night.
His son. however, met him Mt the great
gates, whole and sound, but with grave
face. "You are too late, sir, he said
quietly, yet flushing a little at the grasp
OF his fathers hand, and more when the
Archdeacon told him to pay the cabman
double fare. 81 have brought you
here for nothing. He died O quarter of
an hour ago, sinking very rapidly after L
sent TO YOU.
who Who died ?" asked the Arch
deacon, pressing one hand very heavily
on the others shoulder, as they walked
slowly back toward the bridge.
"Mr. Kent"
The elder man said nothing for
awhils-aloud Mt least. But presently he
ashed Jack to tell him about it.
There is little to tell. After we left
him he went out. Going home again
late at night, and not, fear, very
steady, he was run down by road-car.
When they brought him to the hospital
he was hopelessly injured, but quite sen
sible. They fetched his daughter, and
| then he asked for meas your son. he
did not know my address, but the as
sistant surgeon happened to he friend
of mine, and did, and he sent a cab for
me.
and really that seemed all. eft is
very, very sudden ; but-Heayen forgive
me II canno. reeret his death" said
the Clergyman. 1t is impossible
They had reached the corner of the
bridge. There is something else l
shouid tell YOU Jack said uervously.
"When he sent for me be had lawyer
brought and made his will.
, 1 4 Il
somewhat startled. I" Had he anything
to leave :" He asked the question
rather in pity for so wretched creature
as the man had seemed to him than out
of curiosity.
"If We may believe him." said Jack
slowly. "and think he Has telling the
truth, he was worth 100000 "
impossible, " cried the Archdeacon.
"I do not know. replied Jack. "But
we shall soon learn. lie said no had
made it in oil, and had come home as o
poor man to see how his wife and child
would receive him. l DO not think he
was all bad" Jack continued thought
fully. there must have bsen q streak
OF romance in him"
al fear" muttered the Archdeacon
very sensibly, "thas 1t is all ro-
nance
But it was not all romance truth
beats fiction there is oil in the States
vet. and Mr.. Kent, of whom since he is
dead VIC oil speak with respect, by hook
or crook had got his share. The $50, 900
were really discovered pleasantly fructi-
| flying in Argentine railways, and proved
AS many reasons why Mrs. Yale, when
Jack fate became known to her, should
still smile again. The Archdeacon put it
neatly: To marry an actress is a grave
| offence because common one and ono
easily committed; but to marry an ac-
tress with 10000! Well, such ladies'
are not blackberries, nor DO they grow
on every bush.
Mr.. and Mrs John Yale have not yet
established themselves at the Hall. They
live at Henley, and their house is the re-
sort in summer OF all kinds of people.
among whom the Archdeacon is a very
butterfly. An idea preyalls-though a
! few Of us are in the secret-that Mrs
Jack comes, in common with SO many
other pretty women, OF an old irish
family aud the other day | overheard
an amusing scrap Of conversation at her
table. "Mrs. Yale, some one was say
ing, "do you know that you remind me
SO strongly. if | may say it without Of
fence, OF Miss Kittie Latouche, the ac-
tress ?"
"lndced?" replied the lady with a
charming blush. "And do you know
that you are on dangerous ground My
husband vas in love with that young
lady before he knew me, and | believe
that he secretly regrets her now"
Tit for tat cried Jack. let rs
all begin telling tales. If my vile was
not in love with one Mr.. Charles Viii
liams a month-only a mOnth-before
she married me will eat her"
ooh, Jack " exclaimed the lady,
covered with confusion. But this story
would not be believed in Sudbury.
where Mrs. John passes for being little
shy, n little timii, and not little pru-
dish"
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