Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-03-30

that if 1 we're out of the way he would
marry her But 1 am in the way, and mean
to 81 v there. Well, it is time to dress for
dinner. only hope that old clown OF a
clergyman won't 40 something ridiculous.
shall have TO apologize tor him."
Dinner time had come; it was q 6:15
o'clock and the room was filed with highly
bred people, all more or less distinguished.
Mr.. Granger had duly appeared, arrayed in
his threadbare black coat, relieved, how
ever, BY pair of Geoffrey's dress shoes. As
might have been expected, the great folk did
not seem surprised at his presence OF to take
any particular notice OF his attire, the fact
being that such people never are surprised.
A Zulu chief in full war dress would only
excite friendly interest in their breasts.
On the contrary they recognized vaguely
that the old gentleman was somewhat out of
the common run, and as such worth culti-
waiting. Indeed, the Prime Minister, hear
ing casually that he was clergyman from
Wales, asked to be introduced to him, and
at once fell into conversation about tithes, a
subject of which Mr.. Granger was thorough
ly master.
Presently thev went down to dinner, Mr..
Granger escorting the wife of the Bishop,
fat and somewhat apopleetic lady, blessed
with an excellent appetite. On his other
side was the Prime Minister and between
the two he got on very well, especially after
q few glasses of wine. Indeed, both the
apopleetic wife OF the Bishop and the head
of Her Maiesty's Government were subse-
quently heard to declare that Mr.. Granger
was q very entertaining person. To the
former he related with much detail how his
daughter ha6 saved their hosts life, and to
the latter he 6iscOursed upon the subject Of
tithes, favoring him with his ideas of what
legislation was necessary to meet the ques-
ton. Somewhat to his own surprise be
found that his views were received with at
tention and even with respect In the main,
too, they received the support of the Bishop,
who likewise felt keenly on the subject Of
tithes. Never before had Mr.. Granger had
such good dinner nor mingled with COM
pany so distinguished. He remembered
both till his dying day.
Next morning Geotirev and Mr.. Granger
started before Lady Honoria was up. Into
the details Of their long journey to Wales
(ln crowded third-class carriage) we need
not enter. GeOffrey had plenty to think of
but his fears had vanished. as fears some
times do when we draw near to the object
of them. and had been replaced by a curious
expectancy. He saw now, or thought he
saw, that he had been making a mountain
out of q molehill. Probably it meant
nothing at all. There. was no real danger
had even experienced a fit of tenderness
toward him. Such things come and such
things go. Time is a wonderful healer of
moral distempers, and few Young ladies
endure the chains OF an undesirable attach
ment for a period of seven whole months.
1t made him almost blush to think that this
might be So and that the gratuitous e1-
tension of his misfortune to Beatrice might
be nothing more than the working of his
own unconscious yanity-a vanity which,
did she know of it, would move her to angry
laughter.
He remembered how once, when he was
quite young fellow, he had been some
what smitten with a certain lady, who GER
tainly, if he might judge from her words
and acts, reciprocated the sentiment. And
he remembered also how. when be met that
lady some months afterward, she had treated
him with a cold indifference indeed, almost
with an insolence, that quite bewildered
him, making him wonder how the same
person could show in such different lights,
till at length, :airly mortified and ashamed
at his mistake, he had gone away in a rage
and seen her face no more. OF course he had |
set it down to female infdelity. He had |
served her turn, she had made fool of him, |
and that was all she wanted. Now be might |
enjoy his humiliation. 1t did not occur TO |
him-to borrow an energetic American term |
that it nigh. be simple fcussedness " or that |
she had not really changed, but was angry |
with him for some reason which she did not |
choose to show. 1t is difficult to weigh the |
motives Of women in the scales of male ex-
perieuce, and many other men beside |
Geotfrey have been forced to give up the at
tempt and console themselves with the re-
Election that the inexplicable is generally |
not worth understanding.
Yes, probably it would be the same case
over again. And yet, and yet-was Beatrice |
of that class7 Had she not too much of a
mans straightforwardness of aim to permit |
her TO play such tricks? In the bottom of
his soul he thought that she had, but he
would not admit it to himself. The fact of
the matter was that half unknowingly, he
was trying to drug his conscience. He knew
in his longing to see her dear face once
more that he had undertaken q dangerous
thing. He was about to walk with her over
an abyss on a bridge which might bear
them, or-might break. So long as he
walked there alone it would be well, but
would it bear them both? Alas for the
frallty of human nature, this was the truth;
but he would not and did not acknowledge
1T He was not going to make love to
Beatrice, he was going to enjoy the pleasure
OF her society. In friendship there could be
no harm.
reached Bryngelly; there was nobody to
meet them, for nobody knew that they were
coming, so they walked up to the vicarage.
1t was strange to GeofTey once more to pass
by the little church through those well-re-
membered, wind torn pines, and see that
low, long house. 1t seemed wonderful that
all should still be just as it was, that there
should be no change at all, when he himself
had seen SO much. There was Beatrice's
home; where wa Beatrice?
He passed into the house like man in a
dream. In another moment he was in the
long parlor where he had spent so MANY
happy hours, and Elizabeth was greeting
him. He shook hands with her, and as he
did so, noticed vaguely that she too was ut
terly unchanged. Her straw-colored hair
was pushed back from the temples in the
same way, the mouth wore the same hard
smile, her light eyes shone with the same
cold look; she even wore the same brown
dress. But she appeared to be very pleased
to see him, as indeed she was, for the game
looked well for Elizabeth. Her father
kissed her hurriedly, and hustled from the
room to lock up his borrowed cash, leaving
them together.
Somehow Geoffrey's conversational powers
failed him. Where was Beatrice? She |
ought to be back from school. 1t was hoIi-
day time indeed. Could she be away?
He made an effort, and remarked abseutlv
that things seemed very unchanged at Bryn-
gelly.
"You are looking for Beatrice" said
Elizabeth, answering his thought and not
his words. 'iShe has gone out walking, but
| think that she will be back soon. Ex-
cuse me, but must 60 and see about your
ROOM" ,
Geofrey hung about little, then he lit
bis pipe and strolled down to the beach.
With q vague unexnressed idea of rnaat;nn |