Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1891-05-10

death enters ill.," But he was strong
and healthy, in the full enjoyment of a
life that had never met with a serious
failure or disappointment. In every
thing he attempted he had been success
full, and either prudence or naturally
happy temperament had kept him from
spelling his nerves and digestion by too
anxious and assidious labor. If ever
the afternoon slope of a mans life prom
iSed to be sunny, easy and prolonged. 1t
promised so to him. He had built a
house perfectly adapted to his needs; 1t
was ready to receive him; his many
friends, impatient for the house warm
ing, were counting the days that had TO
elapse before Lent came and postponed
the celebration to a remote EaSter-ahu
still Harry Trent made no sign. What
was the matter with him?
He had, in fact, visited the house al
most every day, letting himself In win
his pass kew, and sauntering through
the beautiful rooms, where fires were
kept burning in the open CRATES by the
are-takers in charge. He contemplated
the interior from all points OF view and
in all moods, sometimes tentatively
making slight modification of arrange
ment, which he was as likely as not TO
restore the next day. He seemed 10th
to persuade himself that all was really
just as he would have it, and yet he
could devise no improvement. So might
a lover study the face of his mistress,
afraid to believe that her lovely features
were absolutely without flaw, or so
might any mortal regard the NEST near
ly perfect earthly achievement, unable
to suggest any lettering OF it, and yet
vaguely conscious that, in some way,
nothing of this earth could be perfect
indeed.
The 25th of the month arrived and
found the situation unchanged. Harry
Trent had on that day gone to after
noon tea at Mrs. Matchin's, ii being her
day at home, and had remained till
after o'clock. A dozen other people
were present, and the talk was lively.
Harry himself seemed in particularly
fine spirits. When he took his leave
Mrs. Matchin accompanied him to the
ante-room and stayed there a few mo-
mentS speaking with him in an under
tone. They were undoubtedly on con-
fdential terms, and for every straw
must COUNT it sent up her stock as the
possible Mrs Trent several degrees.
She came back with deepened color
and a mysterious smile, and entertained
her company more brilliantly than ever
Harry Trent walked to his club, only
few blocks off, where he temporarily
bad rooms, and took dinner there with
two or three friends, one of whom was
his chief clerk. The latter afterward
drank coffee with him in the smoking
room. At about eight o'clock Trent
left the club without saying where he
was going, and he did not come back
that night.
Let us follow him ourselves. A re-
cent spell of warm weather has melted
the snow from the streets, but now 1t
has fallen clear and cold again. The
dry, braciug air tingleS in
the noStrils Harry Trent
throws away his cigar and fills
his lungs with the frosty distilliation Of
the stars; then he buttons his coat across
his chest and starts out at sturdy pace.
His white hair gliStenS like silver be-
meath the rim of his silk hat; his ruddy,
kindly, handsome face. with its aquiline
nose. blue eyes and well set lips, is al
ternately revealed and Swallowed as he
approaches and passes the street lamps.
At the corner of Twenty-sixth street
and Fifth avenue, where the uptown
Delmonico'S now stands, he haltS and
seems to deliberate.
A beggar creepS up and mumbles a
petition Harry looks at him moment
and then draws off his glove to give him
quarter. A woman walks by him,
! fingers and turns to p"SS him again.
Harry SAYS. ''Take care. my child;
there's a policeman round the corner!'
A hack driver draws up at the curb and
touches his hat. Harry hestates.
There were no elevated roads in those
DAYS; but finally he shakes his head and
continues his walk up the avenue.
sit will do me good to foot it, he
saws to himself whats couple OF
miles,"
Softened light comes through the cur
tanned windows on either side OF the
street: carriages rumble up and down
over the uneven pavement, ever and
anon pauSing to set down their occu-
pants at carpeted doorway. AT
Thirty-sixth street Harry pauses again,
and before his mind rises the picture OF
the young Olympia, figure of youth,
health and arch intelligence, who is
even now, perhaps, thinking Of him,
only few doors away. Shall he go in
and pass the evening there? He nearly
Yields TO the suggestion, and takes a
step or two in that direction. But no.
he had promised himself something diff
ferent: he will see Olympia tomorrow.
He turns again and resumes his walk.
Yet Olympia was really thinking Of
him at that moment, and tomorrow
we'll Tomorrow sometimes means
never.
No such reflection disturbs Harry
Trent. The exercise has warmed his
blood, and his heart is light. The con-
slant success of his life has had its eff
feet upon him. He does not believe that
misfortune can overtake him. Mortal
man seldom or never lives to Harry's
age without having done something
that he ought not to have done. YET he
has done much good in the world. His
reputation among his fellows Is unfair
nished. If he have enemies they have
not declared themselves. But has he
an enemy? At any rate, he fears none.
Like other fortunate men, he has faith
in his star; like them, too, he forgets
the legend of CreSus.
By this time he has passed beyond the
most thickly settled portion of fashion
able New York; the rumble of carriages
is less frequent, and there are gaps be-
tween the houses. Foot passengers are
few. His steady footsteps are echoed
distinctly from the frozen pavement
His shadow only attends him as he
walks, now lengthening behind, now
slipping beneath his feet and starting
ont ahead of him. Darker shadows