Martinsburg herald. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1881-1920, 1890-04-12

sometimes come up the stairs, which
would stop as soon as he heard my step.
He was particularly sensitive about his
music. A song he never sang through
with the fellows, though in particularly
fine passages he would often join in, and
his voice had rich quality. But if ever
he sang more than few notes there
would be the consciousness of something
out OF harmony in the singing-some-
thing which you did not quite like to
hear, though not off the tune or any
thing of that kind He would immedi-
ately stop himself then, with slight,
impatient movement, and probably NOT
try it again the rest of the evening.
There was one subject that we neve,
preached at Esby's. That was tho
ladies. 1t always fell fiat, and we
learned by-and-bye that either Esby was
totally indifferent to the fair sex-his
manner implied it-or else he had had
a wound from Cupid which was moi
healed. The fellows speculated some
about it.
Imagine, then, my surprise when
came IN on him one evening and found
him sitting over his fire with u letter in
his hand, which he held in listless,
melancholy way. As he didn't put il
away or make any effort to conceal his
attitude of mind, the characteristic
thing for him to do, of course, | looked
at him inquiringly. | said; Whats up,
4 Esby? He just handed over the letter,
with I'm a rascal, Harry, and then got
up and began pacing the floor The let
ter was delicate-scented thing, in wo-
mans hand writing 1t ran thus:
"'MY DEAR RALPH: You will be SURPRISED
to receive this letter so soon after my last
which mailed but two days ago But that
/ last was like all the letters which [ have
been writing to you this winter, not true,
frank letter, but kind OF make-believe
And to-day have determined to tell you all
have been thinking, that for once more
things may be open and real between us.
For your letters, dear Ralph, have beer
! make-believes too. Indeed, is it not SO that
our happy frankness had disappeared even
before you said farewell? l felt it, although
l would not believe it then. I cannot ex
plain-I cannot understand it. Not in re-
| gard TO you, Ralph. With another person
it might be different Oh! Ralph, my dear
Ralph, you still love me?
'sThe letter was blistered with tears
here, and there was no signature
"You may imagine felt melancholy
enough when read that letter.
HEsby came over and took it out oil
my hand, saying 4 shall write to her to
come over, and I'll give it fair trial.
Perhaps it will return to me. thought
it might by absence. But I'm afraid its
like the painting and everything else,
can't put anything more into it. 1t must
be left unfinished. I'm afraid its con
stitutional. And Esby-reserved Esby
actually buried his face in his hand
and wept.
81 felt sure that it was the first time
he had candidly declared that last even
to himself. | left him weeping there,
although full of sympathy for him; in
fact, | was crying myself But knew,
With his temperament, the reaction would
soon come from such an extra amount oil
confidence, and that it was by all means
the most delicate thing to leave him
alone
1.-THE month following this, Esby
/ worked in particularly spasmodic way,
and he was in a more than usually re-
/ ticent frame OF mind. We had no con-
fidential talks, he did not come to my
room without one of the other fellows,
and l avoided surprising him alone in
his.
But one evening he came in with the
/ expression of detected determination,
which had been growing on his face for
4 six weeks, good deal deepened.
"tBright, he said, I'd like you to
meet some friends of mine-Miss Hart
ley and her father-just come over
| II understood perfectly who Miss
Hartley was, and was somewhat agita-
ted by the invitation. After all, it was
only formal call that we made, but |
came away feeling that if Ralph could
cease to love Madge Hartley, there must
be something normally wrong about him.
All his other peculiarities became as moth
/ ing in comparison with this strange in
capacity, and my sympathy and pity for
him were dszed. fels almost ready to
call him rascal, as he had called him
self. That was when thought Of her
eyes when she looked at him.
But when l said goodnight after our
silent walk home through the streets of
Paris, the moonlight showed me such a
face, that cried within me, God help
him.
''For whole week, Ralph and saw
! Mr.. Hartley and his daughter daily We
show them Paris-Ralph deyotedly at
tended the lady, and | piloted the old
gentleman. He and kept up pretty
even flow of spirits and conversation, but
Ralph aud his lady were melancholy
7 pair. As first she was able to assume an
! interest in things. but as the DAYS wort
on, her manner grew as absent as his, and
she would look at one of the masterpieces
of the Louvre with scarcely more inter
/ est than if it had been a chrome in a
1 second hand furniture store in New York.
''Her father was not an observant per-
+ son, but even he began to think there was
that in the atmosphere beyond his ken,
I and he confided to me that he thought
there must be something amiss between
I young Esby and his daughter. They
used to be famous friends.
by Saturday morning l felt that
could not keep an indifferent look upon
things much longer. Those two faces
haunted me traglcally when they were moi
before my eyes. l called for Esby al
nine o'clock. We were to take his friend.
to Versailles, by boat A pleasant plan
enough for people in really holiday hu
NOR.
"A second time Esby sat deiectedly il
his chamber, with letter in his hand
''He rose and said quickly. You'd
better go to the class, Bright, and hear
the criticism. Miss Hartley is not we'll,
and We shall not go to Versailles. It's 1
shame to have kept you from work vi
/ this week-but you're good fellow.
Bright, stunning good fellow and
Esby shook my hand with great warmth.
~ 'Shan't we call or send some flowers,
RslphY said /.
"'Nop he replied; I'll write her q
note.
II did go up to the atelier, but my
! thoughts were not much upon what
Bonnat WAS savino althou1h the ntha,