The morning call., 1893-03-04
LIES FEVER.

LII IL ~ LF LIN
His doom had been spoken and he was to
die very soon. 1t was the kind hearted
gray-haired physician who mad told him
"the worst" with a voice inflicted by alto
gether unprofessi onaL emotion and as he
recalled the scene Willred DeveYeuX smiled
grimly.
Wilfred Devereux had led a selfish and
altogether useless life, but he had found the
world fairly amusing until it had begun to
bore him, and of late it had bored him pro-
foundly; so he did not care so very much if
he was going out" as he phraSed it.
BE was to avoid excitement. The doctor
had said so. Again he smiled as he recalled
this advice. For years his life bad been a
restless search after fresh distractions and
excitement. aud the sated wOrldling thought
how entirely superfluous the counsel ten
dered by his physician had been.
Well, he was following out the prescrip-
tion tonight, at all events, Idly lounging in
the luxurious little smok ing room.
He did not feel any penitence for his mis-
spent years of manhood. No; since enc
summer afternoon long ago he had made
up his mind 10 give up taking life seriously,
and to regard 1t merely as an opportunity
for having a good time" and now he had
nearly spent his life; he had had the good
time" and felt reckless.
In few days, weeks or mOnths-it did
not Interest him to speculate which-the
men at the club would say 10 one another:
Hello. so see poor old Devereux is dead"
and the cousin who was to inherit his prop
erty would congratulate himself that there
was anything left 10 inherit.
That was all. 1t might have been so diff
ferent; but II was her fault. Was 1t quite
fair, though, to lay the blame on his old
love? Yes, yes; she bad cast him off, she
had sent him adrift, and his life'S shipwreck
was due TO her.
But, despite these melancholy reflections,
DeveTeux would not give way to gloom. On
the contrary, he rose, exchanged his smOk-
g-jacket for his dress coat, studied his
list of engagements, and, having ascer-
tanned that Mrs. Pottinger-JU expected
him at ball IN Kensngton aud that Lady
Hildegarde had sent card for her crush in
Brook street, he sailed out into the thTong-
ing street.
Once more Deyereux felt a momentary
pleasure at being a citizen of the brilliant
world; and then he thought of the summer
nights that were to come next year. when
all this life would go on just the same,
while he would be lying in six feet of earth
somewhere away from the sound of the
throbbing of the wheels and the never
ceasiug fall OF feet on the London pave
ments.
He shuddered. After all, death was not
pleasant to think about.
Again he forced his mind to thoughts of
the past, and presently to such good purpose
that he had forgotten Mrs. Pottinger-Jones
and Lady Hildegarde, and was leaning on
had strayed, and was watching the sparkle
OF the stars in the dark river.
1t was a sunny summer afternoon, and
the fresh breeze blew from the sea. The
tide was out and the long lines of foam were
81 Ii a.. Lii IL
where the poppies famed and the bees
hummed in the thyme, stood young mau
and girl.
She wore a pink dress and hat with
shady brim, and there was look OF pain in
her beautiful eyes.
as that your final deelsion9" said the
young man. Have you no pity?''
PITY? Yes, Infinite pity; but / cannot
marry you. lndeed-!ndeed, l cannot" she
answered.
Il would do anything, anything" he
pleaded, ITO make you love me again.
know / am unworthy OF yOu," he went en-.
"You are an angel, a goddess
But she only listened 10 his frantic praise
with head averted.
mo, no, it is too late" was all she would
voUehsaie in reply TO his pleading. Her
mingled expression OF pain and scorn told
the young man how he had been weighed
and found wanting, and lie clinched his
hands in despair and modification.
1ubH ne ulbW UimSSll up anu SPOKE
slowly and deliberately.
Very well, he said. since you cast me
off have nothing good left to live for. But
don't think l shall waste my time in vain
regrets, or that l shall ever come back to
you. l will commit every sin and folly that
can hide away the pain Of this parting l
will sQuander my life as carelesSly, as Teck-
lessly as l can. will never try again to be
or to do anything pure or good.
"My only object hencefOrth shall be to
fOrget-to forget you and all my foolish
dreams, my belief in you and your love,
my misplaced trust in womanhoOd-and all
my sins shall be laid at your door. You may
repudiate them Mary, but my sins shall be
uVon your head. You could save me if you
would. and you Will not"
His face was flushed, and hers had grown
angry aud sc0rnful.
Suddenly he softened again. Don't you
see, Mary, how you are spelling my life?'
She made no reply. He asked her for a
last kiss, for The flowers she wore at her
throat. But she refused both by silence
and dOwncast gaze. And so the romance
of the young mans life had ended.
Devereux thought of all this as he gazed
into the dark-fitwing Thames. Heavens!
how well he had kept his word about sGuan-
dering his life! But he did not bIame Mary
now.
"Mary Ia in town Tonight" he reflected,
as his cab bowled down the embankment
and under the towers OF Westminster to-
ward Kensington. ~ wonder if she has
changed much and if l shall come across
her before l die ?"
And now he had reached his destination
and was walking up a carpeted stairway
while the music sounded above him. He
could not dance. The doctor had forbidden
il, so he stroiled aimlessly out Of the ball
room.
Sometimes one seems to know by premo-