The Roanoke times. [volume] (Roanoke, Va.) 1890-1895, 1893-02-24

end house. 1t was possible that might
be mislcd by n similarity of name. al
though even that was unlikely.
'ls Miss Adriancc at homc?" l asked
of the servant who answered the bell
NO, sir. Miss Adriance is spending
few weeks with friend at Bright.
on" she answered. promptly
That was enough l went home and
inclosed Bullion's letter in another en-
vclope. directing it to poor Charley
Drcsdcn's address, post rcstante, Paris,
adding Il few lines of my own. wherein
l cndcavorcd to minglc consolation and
philosophy as aptlv as possible.
Its an ungrucious thing for me to
do, sending this letter." wrote l, but I
believe 1t to be the part of n true friend
to undcccivc YOU rs promptly as posi-
bic. Bullion is Il millionaire Sophv is
possibly but Il fallible mortal after all.
BE man, Dresden, and rcmcm Der that
she is not the only woman in the world
who would rather be an old mans ,iar-
ling than Il young mans slave"
And then l wrote CURLY, declining to
stand up with old Bullion
1t WAS but n few days subsequently,
that the waiter showed an elegantly
dressed young woman into my room at
the hotel where ! was stopping. | rose
in my surprise. Aside from old Aunt
Jane Platt md my laundrcss my lady
visitors werc few. But the instant she
threw up her thick tissue veil rccog-
nizcd the soft blue eyes and damask
rose checks of Sophy Adriance.
'Oh. Mr.. Mortimorc.' she cried, pit
eously, Il know you won't mind my
coming TO your hotel, because you seem
exactly like father to me-" l WINGED
little at this. 'But have received
such Il letter from Charley; and, as-.as
you've known him for such n long
time, thought perhaps you could cx-
plain it to me. Oh, l have been so
wrctchcd! And. indeed, l didn't de-
serve it,
She gave me Il tcar-blottcd letter,
and then sat down to cry quietly III the
corner of the sofa, until such time as l
should have finished its pcrusal.
1t was fit mirror of Charley Ores
den's impctuous nature, full of bitter
rcproachcs, dark innucndocs, hurting
back her troth, and limiting Cloomily
at suicidc! When read it 1 scarcely
wondered at Eoor Sophy's distress.
w i'''N N'tNN ilc lucUl, MT. MOTll-
morc?' asked Sophy, pIaintivcly,
when he accuses me Of dccciving him,
or selling nlysclf to the highest bidder?
Oh, it's SO drcadful!"'
Arc You to become The wife of Mr..
Bullion, the banllcr?' l asked, sternly.
"Oh, dear, no, said Sophy. That's
mamma,'
'Eh?" gaspcd |.
- g
"Shcs to be married next week. Didn't
you know it?"
l stared straight before me. We'll, 1
had got myself into a pretty pickle by
mcddling oiiciously i'll affairs that
didn't concern me.
Look here, Miss Adriancc," said l.;
III will to II YOU all about it,
So ! did. described old Bullion's
letter, my own false deductions there
from, and the rash deed had commit
ted in sending tie bankers corrcspon
dcnce to Charley Dresden
And now" said l, ''do you wonder
that he is indignant"
Sophy's face grew radiant.
but there's no harm DONE" said she.
mo real harm, mean. Because I've
written him n long letter all about
mamma and Mr.. Bullion, which he
must have received almost the next
mail after he sent off his cruel,
cruel sheet of reproaches. And pray,
Mr.. Mortimore, don't look so woe
BECOME" she said, kindly. Your mis-
take was natural enough"
Sophy was Il true prophet. There
was no real harm" done. The mex.
mail brought letter full of entreatiet.
to be pardoncd, and n brief, brusquc
note to me, which told me- not exactly
in so many words, but in spirit, that I
had Il great deal better have minded
my own business.
Which really think l had.-Figaro.