The World. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1891-1896, 1892-05-13

kIs ~. M fE5l1E r|@ ~ I'd rofn7-
a y ~ /1o a1nIs.-.s<r q heir we'd
dine.d,7. nhs lei kiu .n infant son for
yaq7 I. - psse''.Fy = seeeo. g.
an- &11rt - many rap|rt " rtactice1le
His devotion 20 HE END bad been touch
ing - plmosr.. He taught him 70 walk
and talk, and By and By 70 ride on .
miniature pony; and. when he needed 70
learn more than these simple acquire
msnts, IL was the devoted father who
taught him still.
Always In his sight, the baby had al
most imperceptibly merged lnto tall
pale boy some nine years old before Col
onel Severn began 70 realize that they,
hitherto inseparable, must rart--not for
few months. as had been the case be-
fore, when It was necessary that the child
should escape from the burning heat 81
the plains, and HIS father lad not been
able to get leave, but It might be years.
The blow, terrible as II was at first,
grew harder for the lonely man TO bear
as little BY little they drifted further
and further apart In spite Of the con-
slant correspondence they kept up.
After a few years at . preparatory
school, the lad had gone to Harrow. and
had made many friends there, while
amongst new interests no had half
forgotten the love which had colored
all his life before.
The father felt with q twinge OF pain
that he might meet his son In the street
and not recognize him, though his whole
soul yearned for him and he was never
absent from his thoughts. He had given
him the love OF fe-time-th deep
strong love OF a man which in most
cases Is divided, but In this case bad
been shared by none other; for his wife
he had married from pity, because they
told him she loved him, and would waste
away II he offered no return. So he
cared for the little fragile thoughtless
child as tenderly as a woman could have
done during the few short months she
was with him, and even felt a faint
sense Of loneliness when she was gone.
But that passed away; the one abiding
passion OF his manhood was to lavish all
his love upon his son.
Then cousin died--a man whom he
had never met--indeed had scarcely
heard OF In the years he had spent away
from home, but who had nevertheless
left him the property Of Gorst Abbey
1t was splendid estate, but the last
owner had led wild extravagant life,
and at present 1t was heavily mortgaged.
George Severn's first thought was to
clear on all the debts, 50 that the prop
erty might recover itself and be at its
highest value when 1t should descend to
his heir. To this end he had devoted all
his savings, for thfsSreason he had re-
solved to lie! the Dover House, and since
his accession had been living as quietly
IS possible in his new home,
His son had left Harrow year before,
and was now abroad with tutor; event
ually he was to become a barrister-for
Colonel Severn was too wise to allow
him to lead an aimless life. Father and
son had met once since their first part
Ing, now twelve years back; but to
0COlAO 16NOAh bACE AnCCb1LB Cdu6Cu 1u
first an even deeper feeling Of sadness
than the separation had done. They
were utter strangers to each other, the
very effort to be at ease one with the
other occasioning greater restraint.
The young fellow had made no allow
ance for the change sure to be effected
by so long residence in an unhealthy
climate; he was disappointed and SEN,
sibly chilled at meeting one so much
older and graver than the father he re-
membered; while the elder man looked
in vain for those traits of character, the
little tricks Of expression, that he had
noted and been so proud of before.
He was proud Of his son still, and had
good cause for that pride thank Heav-
en!--but there was barrier between.
them that nothing could remove. His
love for him was as great as ever, for It
was too strong to be easily uprooted,
but the love no longer filed his life,
was no longer all-sufficient. He felt
lonely and sorrowful-lonelier than he
had ever been when shut up in his In
dian bungalow day after day through the
long hot weather, and more sorrowful
even than when he had sent away his
child. Then he had had hope to sustain
him, and fond imaginings to take the
place Of reality. Now he knew the
truth-knew that the fruit whose growth
he had SO eagerly anticipated had, in
spite Of Its fair appearance, crumbled to
ashes In his mouth.
As he stood on the threshold Of the
door Of the Dover House, and turned his
face to where the sun had set, the after
glow shed Its red light upon him, and
showed clearly the dark steadfast eyes
and well-cut mouth with the deep lines
Of anxiety about them. His complexion
was sallow, his mustache dark, but his
hair was nearly white, which with his tall
broad figure, manly face and military
bearing, gave him most distinguished
appearance. He was a man who would
have attracted attention anywhere.
On this particular day his new tenant