The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1893-01-11
TRIALS.

81 certainly will try the experiment."
quoth to myself.
And then l covertly looked in the
glass, so as better to calculate my
chances matrimonial.
1t wasn't a very satisfactory survey.
| am not handsome man. But there's
one advantage possess that is worth all
the beauty in carbohydrates This
tledown, ESQ, president of the Thistle
down Petroleum company, with the
handsomest yacht in the bay and money
enough to freight it with golden cargo!
Youth-beauty-what do they weigh in
the balance against Torquatus Thistle
down?
And patted my pockets with a
chuckle that sounded like the chink of
doubloonsl
''rll do itl'' exclaimed aloud.
Bruce Hardenbrook glanced sleepily
up from his armchair in the bay VIM
| dow and took his cigar out of his mouth.
| Bruce belongs to our club-more's the
| pity-a supercilious puppy that looks
down on fellow from the height of his
six feet two, as if nobody under that size
had any business to exist.
whats that you're going to do,
Thistledownp asked Bruce.
"To be married." added slowly and
distinctly, "to Miss Fanny Gordon"
Bruce started. had known very we'll
that that would disturb his serene self
possession. All the world was quite
aware that he was dangling after pretty
Fanny Gordon-as if clientless young
lawyer had any right to aspire to the
hand of the loveliest girl in New York;
"Are you engaged to her, Mr. Thistle
! DOWN. he asked.
''No-not exactly engaged-that is, not
as yet, but mean to be. shall consult
Mr.. Gordon this very afternoon-an old
friend of mine, Job Gordon. He'll refuse
me nothing"
Bruce Hardenbrook made no reply.
He resumed his newspaper and tried to
look Indifferent, with remarkably bad
success.
So put on my hat and strolled down
to honest Job Gordon's counting room.
"Thistledown, how dye do?" he cor
daily said. "What can do for you to-
dayg'
"a great deal, Mr.. Gordon, !" respond
ed. 81 am contemplating matrimony. /
am thinking of the hymeneal bonds, sir.
and--and-I would like the weight of
your influence with your daughter
! Fsssnys adore Fanny, si- II worship.
her-and don't mind telling you that it
is within her option at this moment to
become Mrs. Torquatus Thistledownl"
Mr.. Gordon wrung my hand heartily.
"Torquatus, ne calculated breath
lessly, you're trump. My daughter,
Mrs. Petroleum Company-no, don't
mean that exactly-but-but l only hope
| you aren't too later
"Too latel" gasped, making a clutch
at my yellow silk pocket handkerchief
and wiping the drops away from the
bald spot on the crown of my head.
"There was a young fellow here this
very morning." went ON Mr.. Gordon,
rumpling his hair with one hand in q
| distracted manner. upon the self same
business, and"-
mot Bruce Hardenbrook?"
Eyes, Bruce Hardenbrook-the very
person-and told him toll gave him
my sanction-and I've just sent up q
note to Fanny desiring her to have no
hesitation in promptly accepting the gen.
tleman who would propose to her this
afternoon"
gave feeble gasp and rubbed my
nose.
But" added the old gentleman, with
sudden inspiration, II didn't mention
any names, thank goodness, and / don't
see, upon my word, why the note
shouldn't answer for you just as well as
for Bruce Hardenbrook, if you only get
there little ahead Of him."
jumped up and made grasp at my
hat.
"Couldn't-couldn't you go with me?'
"Impossible-I have two most i'm
portant appointments, but you won't
need me-the note paves the way. Good
evening, Torquatus, wish you all pos
sible SUGGEST
AS I hailed the nearest omnibus and
leaped in, the iron tongue of old Trinity
tolled 6 in deep bass monosyllables.
Perhaps perhaps might yet be in time
perhaps Bruce Hardenbrook might be
just such fool as to be idling away the
precious moments in that big easy chair
at the clubrooms. 1t was barely posi-
Bile, and my heart gave bound at the
/ idea.
Fanny was at home, for as l rang the
bell saw the flutter of her blue muslin
dress from the French windows that
opened upon the balcony-and the next
moment she admitted me herself-a tall,
beautiful girl, with bright brown hair
brushed away from low white fore
head, and eyes like shady wells of light.
"Dear me, Mr.. Thistledown, is it
really your she exclaimed coquettishly