San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1890-01-15
that bis strength IN n IN vain 20 sssur.

quiet: mo, Mr.. Mackellar, have thought
upon this matter all night, and there is no
way out Of it Papers or no papers, the door
Of this house stands open for him. He is ths
rightful heir, forsoothl II we sought to ex-
elude him, all would rebound against poor
Henry, and | should see him stoned again
upon the streets. All, II Henry dies, it Is a
different matterl They have broken the en-
tail for their own good purposes The estate
goes to my daughter, and l shall see who sets
. foot upon it. But IL Henry lives, my poor
Mr.. Aackellar, and that man returns, we
must suffer; only this time it will be to-
gsther
On the whole, | was well pleased with
Mrs.. Henry's attitude of mind nor could l
even deny there was some cogency in that
which she advanced about the papers.
LET us say no more aboutit," said l. II
can only be sorry trusted lady with the
originals, which was an unbusi nesslike pro
ceeding at the best. As for what said of
leaving the service Of the family, it was
spoken with the tongue only, and you may
set your mind at rest. belong to Durris-
deer, Mrs. Henry, as If / had been born
there"
must do her the justice TO say she seemed
perfectly relieved; so that we began this
morning, as we were to continue for so many
years, on a proper ground of mutual indul-
gence and respect.
The same day, which was certainly predi-
cate to joy, we observed the first signal of
recovery in Mr.. Henry; and about Of the
following afternoon he found his mind again,
recognizing Inc by name with the strongest
evidences of affection. Mrs. Henry was also
in the room, at the bed foot; but it did not
appear that he observed her. And indeed
the fever being gone, he was SO weak that
he made but the one effort, and sunk again
into a ethargy. The course of his restora-
ton was now slow but equal; every day his
appetite improved; every week we were able
to remark an increase both of strength and
flesh, and before the end Of the month he was
out of bed and had even begun to be carried
| in his chair upon the terrace
1t was perhaps at this time that Mrs Henry
and were the most uneasy in mind. Appre-
| hension for his days was at an end: and a
worse fear succeeded. Every day we drew
| consciously nearer to a. day of reckoning; aud
the days passed on, and still the Jas nothing.
Mr.. Henry better in sire, !, he held long
| talks with us on a great diversity OF subjects,
his father came and SGT with him and went
| again; and still there was no reference to the
| late tragedy or to the former troubles which
conceal his dreadful knowledge3 or was the
whole blotted from his mindi this was the
| problem that kept us watching and trembling
all day when we were in his company, and
held us awake at night when We were in our
lonely beds. We knew not even which alterna>
tive to hope for, both appearing so unnatural
and pointing so directly to an unsound brain
Once this fear offered. / observed his conduct
with sedulouS particularly. Something of
the child he exhibited: a cheerfulness quite
foreign to his previous character, an interest
readily aroused, and then very tenacious, in
small matters which he heretofore despised.
When he was stricken down was his only
confidant, and may say his only friend, and
he was on terms of division with his wife;
upon his recovery all was changed, the past
forgotten, the wife first and even single in
his thoughts. He turned to her with all his
emotions like a child to its mother, and
seemed secure of sympathy; called her in all
his needs with something of that querulous
familiarity that marks a certainty of indul-
gence; and must say, in justice to the wom-
an, he was never disappointed. To her in
deed this changed behavior was inexpressibly
affecting; and think she felt it secretly as a
reproach; so that l have seen her in early
days escape out of the room that she might
indulge herself in weeping But to me tho
change appeared not natural, and viewingit
along with all the rest, began to wonder,
with many headshakings, whether his reason
were perfectly erect
AS this doubt stretched over many vsays :
endured indeed until my masters death, and
clouded all our subsequent relations, | NAV
well consider of it more at large When he
was able to resume some charge of his af-
fairs, had many opportunities to try him
with precision. There was no lack of UNDER.
standing, nor yet of authority; but the Old
continuous interest bad quite departed; he
grew readily fatigued and fell to yawning;
and he carried into money relations, where it
is certainly out Of place, facility thai Dor
dered upon slackneSs. True, since we haii,o
longer the exactions of the master to contend
against, there was the less occasion to raise
StrIctneSs into principle or do battle for a
tarthing True again, there was nothing ex-
cessive in these rela1ations, or | would have
been no party to them. But the whole thing
marked change, very slight yet very per
ceptibie, and, though no man could say nay
master had gone at all out of his mind, no
man could deny that he had drifted from his
character 1t was the same to the end, with
his manner and appearance. Some of the
heat OF the fever fingered in his veins; his
movements little hurried, his speech nota-
bly, more voluble, yet neither truly amiss.
His whole mind stood open to happy i'm
pressions, welcoming these and making much
of them; but the smallest suggestion of trouble +
or sorrow he received with visible impatience
and dismissed again with immediate relief I