Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-12-14
CHAPTER XIV.
NEW WAYS OF LIFE.

this was Maisrie's own handwriting that he
beheld-as startling a thing as if she herself
had suddenly appeared before him, after these
long, voiceless months. Be sure the worthy
bankers accompanying letter did not win
much regard; it was this sheet of thin blue
paper that he quickly unfolded, his eye
catching a sentence here and there, and
eager to grasp all that she haG to say at
once. Alas! there was no need for any
such haste; when he came to read this
message that she had sent to
Toronto, it had little to tell him of that
which he most wanted to know. And yet it
was marvellous thing-to hear her speak,
as it were! There was no date nor place
mentioned in the letter; but none the less
had this actual thing come all the way from
her; her fingers had penned these lines; she
had folded up this sheet of paper that now
lay in his hands. 1t appeared to have been
written on board ship; further than that all
was uncertain and unknown.
He went into the library, and sought out
4 quiet corner; there was something in the
strange reticence of this communication that
he wished to study with care. And yet
there was an apparent simplicity, too. She
began by telling Mr.. Thompson that her
grandfather had asked her to write to him,
merely to recall both of them to his memory;
and she wentOn to say that they often talked
of him and thought of him, and of bygone
days IN Toronto.
Whether we shall ever surprise you by
an unexpected visit in Yonge street." she
proceeded, 81 cannot tell; for grandiather's
plans seem to be very vague at present and,
in fact, do not think he likes to be ques-
toned. But as far as 1 can judge he does
not enjoy travelling as much as he used; it
appears 20 fatigue him more than formerly;
and from nv heart l wish he would settle
down in some quiet place, and let me care
for him better than can do in long voyages
and railway journeys. You know what a
brave face he puts on everythiag-and, in
deed. becomes little impatient If you
show any anxiety on his behalf; still,
I can see he is not what he was;
and l think he should rest now. Why not
In his own country?-that has been his talk
for many a day; but 1 suppose he considers
me quite child vet, and won't confide in
me; so that when l try to persuade him that
we should go to Scotland, and settle down
to a quiet life in some place familiar to him,
he grows quite angry, and tells me l don't
understand such things. But 1 know his
own fancy goes that way. The other morn
ing L was reading to HIM on deck, and
somehow got to think he was not listening;
so l raised my head; and / saw there were
tears running down his cheeks-he did not
seem to know l was there at all-and L
heard him say to himSelf-'The beech woods
of Balloray-one look at them-before 1
dier And now 1 never read to him any of
the Scotch songs that mention places-such
as Yarrow. or Craigieburn, or Logan Braes
he becomes so strangely agitated; for some
time afterwarG he walks up and down. by
himself, repeating the word, as if he saw
the place before him; and L know that he is
constantly thinking about Scotland, but
won't acknowledge it to me or anyone.
'TheE here is another piece OF news
which is all the news one can send from on
board ship; and it is that poor dear grand
father has grown very peremptory! Can you
believe il? Can you imagine him irritable
and impatient? You know how ne has al
WAYS scorned to be vexed about trif1es; how
be could always escape from everyday an
noyances and exasperations into his own
dream-world; but Of late it has been quite
different and as l am constantly with him,
am the chief sufferer. OF course l don't
mind il, not in the least; if l minded it
wouldn't mention it, you. may be sure; l
know what his heart really feels toward me-
Indeed, it amuses me a little; it is as if
had grown a child again, it is DO this and
DO that'-and no reason given. Ah, vel,
there is not much amusement for either of
US two; it is something"
And here she went OH to speak of certain
common friends in Toronto, to whom she
wished to be remembered. finally winding
up with a very pretty message from Yours
affectionately, Margaret Betnune.''
Then Vincent bethought him of the
banker; what comments had he to make?
Dear sir, enclose you letter, received
to-day, from the pernicIous little Omahussy,
who says neither where she is nor where she
is going, gives no date nor the name of the
ship from which she writes and is altogether
a vexatious Young witch. But i imagine
this may be the old gentleman's doing; he
may have been 'peremptory' in his instruc-
tions; otherwise l cannot understand why
she should conceal anything from me. And
why should he? There alsC 1 am in the
dark; unless, indeed (supposing him to
have some wish to keep their whereabouts
unknown to you) he may have seen an an
nouncement IN the papers to the effect that
you were going. to the United States and
Canada, in which case he may have guessed
that you would probably call on one whose
name they had mentioned to you as friend
OF theirs. And not a bad guess either;
George Bethune is long-headed-when he
comes down from the clouds; though why
he should take such elaborate precautions
TO keep away from you, l cannot surmise. %
Vincent knew only too well! The banker
proceeded:
Il confess 1 am disappointed-for the
moment l took it for granted you would
have no difficulty in discovering where they
were; but, OF course, if friend George is not
going to give his address to anybody, for
fear OF their communicating with you, some
time may elapse before you hear anything
definite. However, there Is this to be said
gather from Margaret's letter that her
grandlathe has at last got little tired of
travelling, and may be willing to settle down
In some quiet place for good. But think
sne mistakes In imagining that he would go
to Scotland. Scotland would be lonely
country for George Bethune now. should
say that nearly all the friends he has living
are on this side; and if he wished to pitch
his tent anywhere, shouldn't be surprised
If he chose Toronto. One might be on the
lookout if it were possible to know
whether they were going east or west when
Margarets letter was posted. forgot to
mention that the postmark on the envelope
was Port Said -
Port Said! Had Maisrie been at Port
Said-and not 30 long ago either? Instantly
there sprang into the young mans mind a
vision oi the place as he remembered it-a
poor enough place, no doubt, but now all
lit up by TINS new and vivid interest: he
could see before him the rectangular streets
of pink and white shanties. the sandy road.
and arid squares, the swartby Arabs and
yellow Greeks and Italians, the busy ouays
and repairing yards and docks. the ereeu
water and the swarmino hoots Al l;J