The Wilmington daily Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1890-1902, 1893-09-09
WHO'S THE WOMAN?
CHAPTER I.

SIlktI cTb l.
When John Brown became tutor to
young Harry Hastings at q salary Of ESQ
year (Which he considered handsome),
he never imagined that one day he would
become wealthy man. The son of
poor artist who had left nothing but bad
pictures and bad debts behind him, what
could he expect but q life of perjury,
cheered by the enlivening prospect of
ending it in the Thames or the work.
house? With such gloomy anticipations
as these, tutorship at $50 year ap-
peared perfect mine of wealth to John
Brown, and to prove his gratitude for it
he devoted himself heart and soul to the
sowing of classic and mathematical seed
in his pupils brain. Young Harry did
not take kindly to anything his mentor
taught him. His brain was like that
wonderful hat Of the conjurer's, which,
though you may fill it to the brim with
rings and watches, refuses to produce
anything but rabbits. The fine classical
and mathe NAUTICAL crop that Brown had
SO carefully sown-the good, solid wheat
and barley, as you may say-could never
be induced to grow, while tares and
thistles, as Brown considered all tastes
for such things as betting, racing and
acting, flourished and grew apace in
spite of careful and persistent wedding.
And yet there was nothing particular
ly bad about the boy. He was a nice
young fellow enough, and constant in
tercourse with an absolutely high mind
ed, truthful, honorable man Though
trife dull withal), such as his tutor, in
sensibly strengthened all the latent good
in him. Harry's parents had systematic
ally neglected their son for the sake of
society. He had always been snubbed
by his father and kept out of sight by
his mother, who did not care to own to
the possession of great hulking boy of
II. Consequently all the love and hero
worship that his nature was capable Of
feeling was bestowed upon kind, honest
John Brown.
If John succeeded in nothing else, he
succeeded in implanting a wonderful
amount Of love and admiration for him
self in his pupils Maynard heart.
Browns tutorship extended over two
years. Then Hastings flung off his mental
leading strings, went off to Africa to
shoot big game and disappeared as
completely from the elder mans life as
though he had borrowed money of him.
And now u curious thing occurred
the one great stroke of John Browns
quiet, plodding life. An old maiden
aunt died. She had always been consid-
cred miserably poor, but on her death it
was found that she had managed to
scrape together no less than e2 900. This
money she left to her nephew John, and
it formed the foundation stone on which
he reared his large fortune. 1t fioated
him into the Stock Exchange; it brought
him partnership; it gave him a fair
start in life. After that his perfect in
tegrity and good business head did the
rest; his business fourished; his specu-
lations succeeded, and in the course of
10 years he found himself wealthy
man. Brown took house in Mayfair.
1t was described as "bijou," and rates
were matters of indifference to the sue
cessful stock broker. All he wanted
now was wife, and it did not take him
long to find one. He fell deeply in love
with the daughter of a friend on the
Stock Exchange. She accepted him, and
they were married in few months.
Alice Benton, now Alice Brown, was a
beautiful woman. She was tall and fair
and calmly classical-one of those happy
beings that have their features and emo
tons well under control and never look
either too hot or too cold.
Brown adored her, and she accepted
his alteration in the same calm matter OF
course manner in which she had accepted
him. She was faultless in his eyes-a
being to look up to and reverence. They
were an extremely happy couple.
They had been married about two
years, and John Brown was as much in
love with his wife rs ever; more than
ever perhaps on this particular day on
which our story opens, for she had been
away from him for some weeks, and her
absence was becoming intolerable. II
was June, and things were so busy in
the city that Brown was unable to leave
London, but he had sent his wife down
to the north, as it was unbearably hot in
town. She was to return the next day
but as Brown walked slowly down the
crowded street toward Pursell's he won.
dered how he should get through all
those long intervening hours.
A vigorous clap on the back and O
hasty "Hello, old fellowl Who would
have thought to see you here!" effectu.
ally aroused him.
He started and looked up into a hand.
some and strangely familiar face. II
was Harry Hastings, though his fair skin
was burned almost black by tropical
suns, and a heavy mustache shaded his
lips. Though there were lines on his face
and all the change there that 12 years Of
living entail, Brown recognized his for
mer pupil.
Harry My dear boyl Where have
you dropped fromT'
The two men exchanged a hearty shake
of the hand. They We're genuinely glat
to meet again.
where are you off to?" asked Harry
linking his arm through Browns. "Pur
sells, l suppose. l see it's grub time
Come to my rooms and grub with me
I've got diggins in Holborn. CONF
along"
The young man hailed a hanson, ant
Brown got meekly in. He was busy, bu
business must give way when old friends
turn up from the antipodes. Hastings
rooms were luxuriously furnished, hi
cook first class one, his wines extreme
ly select, his cheroots of the finest brand
Come, light up, old fellow" sait
Harry, cigar in mouth. "You won't ge
tobacco like that every day." He threw
himself back in his luxurious armchair
his hands plunged in his pockets, his fee
tilted against the mantelpiece. There
nothing like these cheroots for drowning
care--deuce take the old brute! An(
now tell me what you've been doing al
these years, Brown. Fallen on your feet