The Washington critic., 1890-02-23

fail to find some lucrative employment
lie must get rid of his accent she
added with a smile (he spoke voluble
but most execrable iargon of mingled
Dutch and Germany, and then he
might go upon the stage, where she
was certain he would succeed.
This last suggestion was made tim
idly, as If she feared to hurt the pride
Of the scapegrace by proposing such q
plan. There was not word or an ac-
cent of reproach in all she said, and l
heartily forgave the little coquetry,
affectation and vulgarity had formerly
remarked in her, in consideration Of
the intuitive deicacy and good feeling
she now displayed. Truly, thought ],
it is humbling to us, the bearded and
baser moiety of human kind, to con-
trast our vile egotism with the beauti-
full self. devotion of women. as exhibited
even in this poor actress.
Madame Sendel by no means ac
quiesced in her daughters project
The tlcshpots of Amsterdam had at
fractions for her far superior to those
of n struggling and uncertain existence
at Vienna. She evidently leaned upon
the hope of a reconciliation between
Van Haubitz and his father, and hinted
pretty plainly at the effect that might
be produced by personal interview
with the obdurate banker.
| could see she was arranging matters
in her queer old noddle upon the ap-
proved theatrical principle; the peni-
| tent son and fascinating daughter-in-
law throwing themselves at the feet of
the melting father, who, with hand
kerchief TO eyes, bestows on them
blubbering benediction and ample
subsidy.
TO my surprise, Van Haubitz also
seemed disposed to place hope in an
appeal to his father, perhaps as a
drowning man clutches at straw He
may have thought that his marriage,
imprudent as it was, would be taken as
some guarantee of future steadiness, or
at least Of abstinence from the spend
thrift courses which had hitherto de-
stroyed all confidence in him.
He could hardly expect his union
with penniless actress to reinstate him
in his fathers good graces; but he
probably imagined he might extract a
small annuity, as condition of living
at distance from the friends he had
disgraced. He asked me what /
thought of the plan.
of course did not dissuade him from
its adoption. and, upon the whole,
thought 1t his best chance. for l really
saw no other. After some deliberation
and discussion, he seemed nearly to
have made up his mind, when l was
called away 10 my friends, who had re-
turned from their excursion.
/ was getting into bed that night
when Van HaubitZ knocked at my
door and entered the room with a
downcast and detected air, very differ
ent from his usual boisterous, head
long manner.
Il am off to Holland, he said; "'tis
my only chance, bad though it be"
81 sincerely wish you success" re.
piled I. I'm any case, do not despair
something will turn up. You have
friends in your own country, 1 have
heard you say. They will help you tc
occupation"
He shook his head
Good friends over bottle and g
dice. box" said he, "but useless at {
pinch like this. Pleasant fellows
enough, but scamps like"-myself, ht
! was going TO add, but did not. 81 an
come TO say farewell" he continued
.. 81 must be off before daybreak. / hav,
debts in Frankfort, and ifmy departure
gets wind, shall have dozen duns OF
my back. Misfortuncs never come
', alone. As for paying, it is out of the
question. Among us we have only
about enough money to reach Amster
,, dam. Once there-d IL grace ne Dieu
, but confess my hopes are small
Thanks for your advice--and for you
sympathy, too, for l saw this morning
you were sorry for me, though you die
not think deserved pity. Well, per
haps not. God bless your'
He was leaving the room, but re
. turned.
II think you said you should sta,
! at Coblentz before returning to Eng
= landY'
= II shall probably be there few day
', toward the end of the month";
: Good If ] succeed you shall hea
: from me- What is your address there?'
=. ''P0Ste reStdRt6 will find me-" re
: piled, not very covetous of the corrC
. spondence, and unwilling to give NOR
Y exact direction.
Van IIaubitz nodded and left me. A
, breakfast the next morning | learne
that the Dutch baron, as the waite
styled him, had taken his departure O
!, peep of day.
! The first days of October found m
u still at Coblentz, lingering among th
y valleys and vineyards, and 10th to eS
change them for the autumnal fogs an
> emptiness of London. Thither, how
l, ever, | was compelled to return; and
y endeavored to console myself for til
y necessity by discovering that the gree
hpn t,Aa n,,t =
% leaves, the evenings long and chilly
!, ] had heard nothing of Van Haubit;
and had ceased TO think of him, whcl
!, walking out at dusk on the eve of tn
= day fixed for my departure, suddenl
= encountered him.
e He had just arrived by steambo'
{ coming up stream; his wife an
n mOther.in.law were with him, and the
/. were about to enter fifth rate I'M
if which, two months previously, l
a would have felt insulted if solicited
# patronize. | was shocked by ii
Is change that had taken place in a
three Of them.
Ie In five weeks they had grown fl,
" years older. Emile had lost her fresl
% ness, her eye its sparkle, and the me
0. ancholy smile with which she welcome
ID me made my heart ache. MADAM
D. Sendcl's rotund cheeks had collapse,
m she looked cross and jaundiced al
A. more snuiIy than ever. Van Haubi
n was thin and haggard; his hair Al
1t mnstaches, formerly glossy and we
,y trimmed, were ragged and neglecte
d. his dress, once so smart and careful
c. arranged, was soiled and slovenly. n
ly imagination supplied rapid and viv
is sketch of the anXicties and disappoir
ne ments and heart burnings which, mo