San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1890-01-13

my family the result of desire on your part
10 conceal your kindness. Hence / was the
| more careful To obey orders. 1t remains now
| to guess by what other channel indulgence
| can have flowed on so notorious an offender
| asmyself, for do not think your son need
| defend himself from what seems limited at in
Henry's letter. have never yet heard of a
! Durris,leeT vino was turncoat or n spy"
| says he, proudly.
| And so IL seemed he had swum out Of this
| danger unharmed; but this was to reckon
| without blunder he had made and without
| the pcrtiuacIty or Mr.. henry, VINO was now
| to show Ire had something Of his brothers
| spirit.
| "You say the matter is still fresh, " says
Mr.. Henry
| 1T is recent" says the master, with a fair
show of stoutneSs and yet not without a qua
| ser
us it 40 recent as thatF' asks Mr.. Henry,
like man little puzzled, and spreading his
letter forth again.
| In all the letter there was no word as to
the date hut how was the master to know
that
| 1T seemed to come late enough for me, "
| says he, with laugh. And at the sound of
| that laugh, which rang false like cracked
| bell. my lord looked at him again across the
table and saw his old lips draw together
| close.
NO" said DIR Henry, still CHANGING on his
letter, but remember your expression. You
| said it was very fresh"
| And here we had a proof of our victory,
and the strongest instance yet Of my lords
incredible indulgence; for what must he do
but interfere to save his favoribe from ex-
! posture.
II think, Henry" says he, with "a kind OF
ptiful eagerness, Il think we need dispute
no more We are all rejoiced at last to find
your brother safe; we are all at one on that,
and as grateful subjects, we can do no less
than drink to the kings health and bounty"
Thus was the master extricated; but at
least he had been put to his defense, he had
come lanlefS out, and the attraction Of his
personal danger was now publicly plucked
| away from him NY lord, in his heart of
hearts, now knew his favorite to be govern
ment spy; and Mrs. Henry however she ex-
| planned the taleI was notably cold in her be-
| havior to the discredited hero of romance
| Thus in the best fabric Of duplcitY, there is
some weak point, If you can strike it, which
will loosen all; and il, by this fortunate
stroke, we had not shaken the idol, who can
| say how it might have gone with us at the
| catastrophef
| And yet at the time we seemed to have &C
| compliShed nothing. Before day or two lie
had wiped off the III results of his discom
future, and to all appearance stood as high as
| ever As for my Lord DurriSdeer, he was
| sunk in p&reHt;A Dartiality; it was not so
| much love. winch should hean active quality,
as an apathy aud torpor of his other powers;
and forgiveness $50 to misapply noble word
| flowed from him III sheer weakness, like the
tears of senility. Mrs Henry'S was different
case: and heaven alone knows what he found
to siy 10 her "r no" he persuaded her from
hercontempt 1t is one of the worst things of
sentiment that the voice grows TO be more
important than the words and the speaker
than that which is spoken But some excuse
the master must have found, or perhaps he
had even struck upon some art to wrest this
| exposure to his own advantage; for after a
time of GOODNESS, it seemed as if things went
worse than ever between him and Mrs. Henry
They were then constantly together. | would
| not be thought to cast one shadow of blame
beyond what is due to half willful blind
ness, on that unfortunate lady; but | do
think, in these last days, she was playing
very near the fire; and whether | be wrong
or not in that, one thing is sure and quite
sufficient: Air. Henry thought SO.
The poor gentleman sat for days in my
room, so great a picture Of distress that
could never venture to address him; yet it is
to be thought he found some comfort even in
my presence and the knowledge of my sym
| pathy. There were times, too, when we
| talked. and strange manner of talk it was,
| there was never person named, nor an in.
,..'iduaI circumstance referred to, yet we
| had the same matter in our mind and we
| were each aware of it. 1t is a strange art
| that can thus be practiced: to talk for hours
| OF thing, and never name nor yet so much
as hint at it, And | remember | wondered
if it was by some such natural skill that the
master made love to Mrs. Henry all day long
las he manifcstly did. yet never startled her
| into reserve
To show how affairs had gone with Mr.
| Henry will give some words of his, uttered
| las have cause not to forget upon the 10Th
| of February, 1871. 1t was unreasonable wealth
| er, a cast back into winter: MINDLESS, bitter
| cold, the world all white with rhine, the sky
| low and gray; the sea black and silent like a
| quarry hole. Mr. Henry sat close by the fire
| and debated las was now common with HIM
| whether "a man" should do things" whether
interference was wise, and the like general
| propositions, which each of us particularly
applied. | was by the window looking out
| when there passed below me the master, Mrs
| Henry and Miss Katharine, that now con
| slant trio. The child was running to and fro
| delighted with the frost; the master SPOKE
close in the lady's ear with what seemed even
| from so far a deviliSh grace Of insinuation
| and she on her part looked on the ground like
q person lost in listening broke out of