Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-12-28

| hesitated. swell, you are an older man
than i, and you have more experience In
| these cases; but ] should have said that a
| cruel disappointment such as this is sure to
! cause would distress his mind beyond meas
! ure. He must occupy himself with some
thing; his brain is incessantly working; and
! so long as he is talking of getting out his
book, he is at least looking forward with
hope But if YOU show him this volume it
will be crushing blow; the very thing he
seems to live for will be taken from him; he
will feel injured by being anticipated, and
brood over it. OF course have no right TO
speak; 1 am not a relative; but ask his
| granddaughter-she knows him better than
| anyone"
"Perhaps YOU are right-perhaps you are
right" said the little doctor. TT was
merely an idea of mine-thinking it would
quiet him. But on reflection will not risk
il; it NAV be better not to risk it."
I'm that case" Vincent struck in,
promptly, will you let me tie up the book
in paper, and will you take it away with
you when you GO? 1 mean, that don't
wish Miss Bethune to see 1t. She has plenty
to think of at present; don't worry her with
a triflng matter like this. 1t is of no con-
sequence to her, or to any human being,
how many collections of Scotch poems may
be published-the more the merrier-so long
as readers can be found Tor them; but she Is
anxious and nervous and tired at present
and it might surprise her, perhaps vex her,
| to find that this volume had been pub
| lished."
''Oh, certainly, certainly" the doctor
! said, taking the failure OF his ingenious
little scheme with much equanimity. 81
! will put the book into that sideboard drawer
, until come down; then I can take it away
with me without her or any one having
seen it.
The next day brought Vincent an une1-
pected and welcome surprise. He had been
QUITO doors for brief breathing-space and
was returning to the inn, when he saw in
the distance, coming down Cupar road,
wagonette and pair. He seemed somehow
to recognize the two figures seated in the
carriage; looked again; at last made certain
they were Lord and Lady Musselburgh.
OF course, in such circumstances, when
they drove up to the door of the inn, there
was no great joyfulness of greeting; only
few customary questions, and professions of
! hope for the best; but at the same time, Vim
cent, who was touched by this friendly act,
could not help saying
well, this is like you, aunt"
"Oh, your letter was too much for me,
Vln." she said, with frank good nature. 'T
did not wait for the telegram-1 trust there
will be no need to telegraph for anybody.
But don't want you to give me any credit.
I want to appear as 1 am; and I've always
told you I'm a selfish woman-the generous
! creature is Hubert here, who insisted on
coming all this distance with me. And
now 1 want you to understand the full ex-
tent of my selfshuess. Yon are doing no
good hereof course. You are probably in
the way. But all your affairs in London
will be compromised if you remain here;
Grandson s private secretary cannot be alb
sent at such time"
''There's St. Johnr' Vincent exclaimed,
referring to his colleague in the Office that
had been put in commission.
Hes not in the House." rejoined this
practical and very charming person; "and
the short and the long OF it is that you must
get back to London at once. That is part of
my scheme; the other is, that shall take
your place. / shall be OF more use. You
say there is no immediate danger. So much
the better. Go away back to your post If
anything should happen-I could be of more
service than you. what could YOU do?
Miss Bethune could not return to London
with you-and go into lodgings of your
choosing. 1 will look after her-if she will
allow me-if she will let bygones be bygones
will ask her pardon, or do anything; but 1
don't suppose she is thinking of that at
leave me here. can shift for myself
II think 1t is a sensible arrangement"
her husband said, idly looking around at the
rather shabby furniture.
''It is very kind of you, aunt" Vincent
said-"and very far from being selfish. But
it is impossible. L must remain here, 1
have duties here as we'll as elsewhere-per-
haps more important in my own sight. But
-but-now that you are here"
"Oh, yes, I'll stay" said she good.
naturedly. well, Hubert, it is you who
are packed of: suppose you can return to
Edinburgh tonight. 1 brought a few
things with me, Vincent, in case should
be wanted: will you fetch them in from the
wagonette? Still, 1 wish L could persuade
you to go back to Londonr'
And in this manner it was that Lady
Musselburgh became installed in the inn. .
making some little excuses to Maisrie. She
and her husband had been in the neighbor-
hood. They had heard of Mr.. Bethune,s
serious Illness and of Vincent's having
come down from town. Could she be of auy
help? And so forth. Maisrie thanked her.
OF course; but did not take much notice of
her; the girl just then having many things
in her mind. For her grand ather's delirium
was at times more pronounced now; and in
these paroxysms she alone could soothe
him.
Lady Musselburgh, indeed, rather hung
back from entering the sick room, without
stating her reasons to anyone. On every
occasion that she saw Maisrie she was most
kind and considerate, and solicitous about
the girl herself; but she betrayed no great
concern about the old man, further than by
making the usual inquiries. When Vin.
cent suggested to her tnat, il she did not 90
into the room and zee Mr.. Bethune. his
granddaughter might think it strange, She
said in reply
"But he won't remember me. vinl We
never met but at Henley"
HE remembers everything that ever hap
pened to him." was the answer. "His
memory is wonderful And perhaps-
afterward-yo may wish you had said a
civil word or two."
''Oh, very well" she said. "Whateyer
you think right Will you come with me
now9"
She seemed little apprehensive-she did
not say why. They went upstairs together.
The door of the sick room was open, Mais-
rie, when she perceived this visitor. rose
from her seat by the bedside; but Lady Mus
selburgh motioned her to keep her place,
while she remained standing in the middle
OF the room, waiting to see if Mr.. Bethune
would take any notice of her. But his ewes
were turned away; and he was muttering 10
himself almost inaudibly-they could only
catch word here and there-Galashiels-
Torwoodlee-Selkirk-J doubt
he was going over in his own mind those
scenes OF his youth. Then Maisrie said,
very gently:
Grandfather"
He turned bis eyes, and they rested on the
stranger for a second or so, with q curiously
puzzled expression, She went forward to