The Press., 1892-12-08
JOHN BRENT
By THEODORE WINTHROP.

[Copyright, 1891, by American Press Associa-
 ton.l
 took a cab and drove to my hotel, and so to Biddulph's. The dinner at the baronet's shall not figure in these pages It was my first appearance as hero. and my horse were historic characters in this new circle. 1 was ionized by Lady Biddulph, a stately parsonage, inheritress of a family rustle-a rustic as old as the Plantagenets, and grander now by the accumulations of ages. A lovely young lady with dark hair, who blushed when took my cue and praised Biddulph, she also lionized me. A thoroughbred Ameri- can finds English life charming, especial ly if he is agreeably ionne; 8 scrubby American considers England a region of cold shoulder, too effete to appreciate impertinence.
 Lady Biddulph gave me further facts of the history of the Clitheroes.
 "Our dear Elleni" she concluded. If she had known how much loved her she would have disregarded her natural scru- ples"-and she glanced at her son-"and let me befriend and protect her. It goes to my heart to see MT. Brent so worn and sad. He, too, has become very dear to us all. have adopted him as my son as long as he pleases, and try to give him mothers sympathy"
 Brent walked back with me to Smor- leys.
 ''How different we are!" he said as we parted. "I am all impulse; you are all steadiness." ~.
 Suffering might throw me off my bal ance Remember that 1 have had trial and experience, but no torture"
 ''Torture-that is the word, and it has unnamed me like wearing disease. Your coming makes man of me again. :"
 'sGive me day or two for Shorts Cutoff and the mechanical Nineteenth century, and we will take our knight errantry upon us again. We are dis mounted cavaliers now, to be sure-no Pumps or Fulano to help us-but we shall find, will not doubt, some other trusty aid against the demon forces"
 Brent bade me good night with a re- vival of his old self. We were to meet again tomorrow.
 sat down to gladden. Short with the story of my success today, and wrote hard and fast to catch tomorrow's steamer.
 The dwarf, I knew, would be man after Shorts own heart-these men of iron and steel are full of magnetism for each other. gave Short minute de- scription of Padiham's shop.
 As described found that my obser- vation had been much keener than l supposed.
 All the objects in Padiham's shop, one after another, caught my look as re- viewed the whole in memory. Sudden ly I found myself gazing intently at my image of those two water color draw ings in neat gilt frames hanging in a dusky corner by the chilnney-those two drawings which had revived in my mind the sentiment of the bright. healthy roses in the upper windows.
 Suddenly these drawings recurred to me. They stared at me like an old friend neglected. Whey insisted upon my recog nition. Thexe was personality in them which gazed at me with shy and sad reproach, that had given them only careless glance and so passed them by.
 The drawings stared at me and l at them.
 An ancient, many gaDled Drlck manor house on fair lawn, dotted with state ly oaks-that was the first.
 Had I not already seen a drawing, the fellow of this? Yes. In Biddulph's hands at Fort Laramie. The same ga bles, the same sweet slope of lawn, the same broad oaks, and one the monarch of them all-perhaps the very one Words worth had rounded into sonnet.
 And the companion drawing that hardly deciphered in the dimness-tbat group of figures and a horse bending over them?
 How blind was!
 Fulano!
 Fulano surely. He and no other.
 And that group?
 Ourselves at the Luggernel springs. Brent lying wounded, while gave him water, and lady bound up his wounds.
 Can this be so? Am not the victim of a fancy? Is this indeed my noble horse? Is he again coming forward to bear us along the trail of our lost friend.
 stared again at my mental image of the two drawings. Irecalled again every word of my interview with Padiham.
 The mora I 1Ooknd tho more confident