Lancaster daily intelligencer. [volume] (Lancaster, Pa.) 1864-1928, 1889-03-09


business Of Pauls; tomorrow We hope 20 DO
Venice BY tho way, where will the Brother
tons bel I Imust trust TO my native wits,
suppose, when I get there She Is not tho
sort OF light 10 be hidden under bushel.'
This post card disturbed Kendall not a
little, and he fclt irritably that somebody
had iiismanagcd mattera He had supposed,
and indeed suggested, that Miss Brethcrton
should inclosc his notc In ono Of her own 10
his sisters Paris address, giving, at tho same
time, some indication Of place Of meeting
In Venice. But II she had not dono this, IL
was very possible that the two women might
miss each other after all Sometimes, when
ho had been contemplating this possibility
with disgust, he would, with great effort,
mako himself reflect why It was that ho
cared about the matter 30 disproportionataly.
Why was he 80 deeply Interested In Isabel
Brctherton's movements abroad and In tho
once more into his own woridi Whyi be-
cause IL was impossible, he would answer
himself indignantly, not to feel profound
interest in any woman who had over shared
as much emotion with you as she had with
him in those moments at Nuneham, who had
received wound at your hands, had WINGED
under II and still had remained gracious
and kind and womanlyi II should bc n hard
hearted brute" he said 10 himself, 'if did
not feel very deep and peculiar interest In
her--if did not desire that Maries friend
ship should aSundantly make up 10 her for
my blunderingl"
Did he ever really deceive himself into i'm
agining that this was ALI 1t is difficult to
say. The mind Of man no longer young,
and trained In all the subtletics Of thought,
does not deal with an invading sentiment
exactly as youth would do with all his ex-
pericncc TO come. 1t steals upon him more
slowly, he Is capable of Disgusting 1t to him
self longer, Of escaping from II into other in
tercsts. Passion 10 in It's ultimate essence the
same, wherever 1t appears and under what
ever conditions, but IL possesses itself OF
human life In different ways. Slowly AMI
certainly tho old primcval fire, the conf
monest, fatalest, divinest force Of life, was
making its wny into Kcndal's nature. But
IL wns making its way against antagonistic
forces OF habit, tradition, self restraint--it
found a hundred other interests In possession;
IL had a strange impersonality and timidity
Of nature to fight with. Kendall had been ac-
customed to live In other mems lives, Was
no only Just beginning to live his own!
But, however IL was, he was at least con.
scious during this waiting timo that life was
full Of some hidden SAVIOR; that his thoughts
werc never Idle, never vacant; that, as he lay
fiat among the fern In his moments Of rest,
following tho march Of the clouds as they
sailed divinely over tho rich breadth and
color Of the commons. q whole brood of inn
ages nestled at his heart, or seemed TO hover
In tho sunny air before him--visions Of o
slender form fashioned with Greek suppleness
and majesty, Of q soft and radiant presence,
Of looks all womanliness, and gestures all
grace, Of a smile like no other no had ever
secn for charm, Of quick, impulsive gaiti
He followed that figure through scene after
scene; he saw primroses In Its hand, and tho
pale spring blue aboveit; he recalled 1t stand
Ing tense and still with blanchcd check and
Axed appealing eye, while all round tho June
woods murmured in the breeze; he sur
rounded it In imagination with the pomp
and circumstance Of tho stage, and realized
It as n center OF emotion to thousands. And
then from memories he would pass on to
speculations, from the scenes he knew to those
he could only guess at, from the life Of which
he had seen littlo to the larger and unex-
plorcd life beyond.
And 30 the days went 0l, and though ho
was impatient and restless, yet indoors his
work was congcnial to him, and out OF doors
the sun was bright and all the while certain
little god lay hidden, speaking no articulate
word, but waiting with a mischevous pa
tiencc for tho final overthrow Of one moro
poor mortal.
At last the old postmistress, whom he had
almost come TO regard as cherishing n per-
sonal grudge against him, ceased 10 rcpulse
him, and after his seven years Of famine the
years Of abundance set In. For tho space Of
three weeks letters from Venice lay waiting
for him almost every alternate morning, and
tho heathory slopes between tho farm and tho
village grew familiar with the spectacle Of q
tall, thin man In a rough tweed suit strug-
Cling as he walked with sheets Of foreign paper
which tho wind was doing its best to flch
away from him.
Tho following extracts from these letters
contain such portions Of them rs are neces-
sary TO our obJect
"CAsA MINGHEyTI.
'MY DEAR EUsrAcE--I can only writo you
very scrappy letter today, for we are Just
settling into our apartment, and the rooms
are strewn in tho most distracting way with
boxes, books and garments; whilo my maid,
Felicie, and tho old Italian women Catcrina,
who is TO cook and manage for us, seem TO DO
able to do nothing-not even TO put chair
straight or order some bread TO keep us from
starving-without consulting me. Paul. tax.
Ing advantage Of a husbands prerogativo,
has gone OF to flaner on the piazza, whilo
his women folk make life tolcrable at home;
which Is q very unfair and spiteful version
Of his proceedings, for he has really gono as
much on my business as on his own sent
him-feeling his look Of misery, us no sat on
packing case In tho middle Of this chaos,
terribly on my mind-to SEQ II no could find
tho English consul (whom no knows a little),
and discover from him, IL possible, where
your friends are. II Is strange, as you say,
that Miss Bretherton should not have written
to me; but I incline TO put it down 10 our old
Jacques at home, who is getting moro and
more imbecile with the weight Of years and
infirmities, and is quite capable Of forward
ing to us all the letters which arc not worth
posting, and leaving all the important ones
piled up In the hall to await our return 1t
Is provoking, for, IL tho Bretherton party are
not going to stay long in Venice, we may
easily spend all our time in looking for each
other; which will, indeed, be lame and i'm.
potent conclusion. However, l have hopes
Of Pauls cleverness.
"And now, 4 O'Clock! There Is no help
for it, my dear Eustace. must go and
instruct Caterina how not to poison us in our
dinner tonight. She looks dear old soul.
but totally innocent Of anything but Italian
barbariticssin the way Of cooking. And Felicie
also is well meaning but ignorant, so unless
wish to have Paul on my hands for q week
must be of. This rough picnicking life, In
Venice, Of all places, Is curious little ex'
perence, but made up my mind last time
We were here that we would venture our
precious selves in no moro hotels. The heat
tho mosquitoes, the horrors of the food were
too much Here We have a garden, q