The Washington times., 1894-08-05

even il his own errors and excesses have
brought him TO this pass: The boys troop
past the window with jingling rein and har-
ness. turning laughing faces fatherwards. as
if asking him to hasten and share the fun.
perhaps You can guess why 1 have sent
for you." says Lord Willard; he mods at his
wild darllngs. and shakes paternal fist. As
Mr. de la Poer does not reply he resumes:
''One cannot go on playing horses forever. I
want you TO consider how you would like tho
charge of my youngsters. Nr. Darradals
thinks it high time they had better tutor
than myself. and with his usual kindness re-
lieved me OF some trouble by recommending
YOU. Don't decide hastily; think about it and
we will compare notes at the end Of tho
week"
The pale face fushes-the muscles Of the
long. thin throat work convulsively; and
Lord Willard is all at once seized with anxiety
about his flower beds-the boys are so careless
it would seem.
Presently he leaves the window. and sits
down again. n little embarrassed now.
1.-The next question, he says, lis personal;
and first wish you TO believe that only the
strongest possible reasons induce me 10 ask
it. / have made the acquaintance OF Mrs.
Dorothea De la Poer: her husband was De
la Poer. of Chester. Do you know her"
.'Yes; / know her" Every word seems to
be dragged forth. when after n lengthy pause.
the reply comes. My only brother married
her"
Lord Willard breathes again. After ALL it
is not so bad. He so evidently tasks fer
more with eager eyes and brows that De la
Poer resumes, in a tone studiously cold and
impassive:
HE fell among bad company. and married
beneath him. II was an unfortunate marriage,
and ended in utter ruin. All that he had
Went all that l had went to support falling
house. When everything was lost, and the
old home had to be sold. my brother sent for
me and committed his child to my care
He stops here. wiping some moisture from
his forehead. and Lord Willard looks down.
Il am sorry he says, ''deeply sorry to
pain you. Don't tell me any more. in
tended asking Mrs. De la Poer to be my wife,
and think she has encouraged me. / hope
you consider that sufficient to justify my in
quiry?''
De la Poer stares for moment or two, then
colors deeply.
perhaps had better finish my story he
says. My brother left his child to my care
because he knew his own fate. and that
shortly he would be dead to the world, and
he did not look upon his wife as fit guard
ian: it was arranged privately among US.
She has been little premature in her encour-
aSement of you. since Bertram is still living,
though his DAYS are numbered"
.'Are you sure?" cries Lord Willard, spring.
ing up.
Il should be, since maintain him in tho
asylum. As this is of vital importance to you
1 am willing to show you the latest letters
from the doctors
''Bnt-she-does she know"
That he is SO near death? / should say
that she does. and that may explain her
conduct to vou.'
Lord Willard has not meant to finish his
question in that way. having the hope that
Mrs. De Ia Poer may have believed her hus-
band dead. He shudders with sudden sick
loathing.
Has she been always willing that you
should have entire OF her son y he asks,
at last: Has she left you to maintain hus-
band and child alike?''
why not?" says De In Poer simply. 'T
am man. she a woman; and. as l under
stand. in comparative poverty herself. 1t may
tax her powers sufficiently to support herself,
but she has never sought help from me; she
has washed her hands OF US. one and all.
The autumn flowers and the smooth lawn
and the winding path are melted into one
blurred mass before Lord Wizards eyes; the
voices OF his children sound dim and remote;
he cannot understand this self-abnegation, this
patient bearing of so many burdens, half so
clearly as he understands what he has escaped.
The little bijou house. and the dainty mistress
are hideous in his eyes. What is she but "a
basil plant fourishing wonderfully on the
brains of a murdered man?' Well her pre-
sentiment is fulfilled; she will never see him
again. he letslS InGt He SHOulu 80 uOWu On
his knees and thank heaven. fasting" that he
was not carried by impulse and passion to his
own destruction.
A week later. Philippa, walking homeward
from woodland ram5le. laden with many
tinted leaves and brown cones, is overtaken
by Mr.. De Ia Poer, and thus she is the first to
hear OF and to congratulate him on his new
appointment. They are at the rectory gate
when he takes leave Of her, excusing himself
from going inside.
Il suppose it is always to be Mop" she
says with resignation.
II will not refuse when next you ask me-"
he tells her.
"very well, then; I will hold you to your
promise" she returns, and they part.
At some distance along the lane he looks
back, TO see her still standing at the old gate,
her face. in its spring-like bloom and beauty,
turned toward him; this much he sees. but
not the day when its brightest smile. its fond
est welcome, its loveiiest glow. shall be for
him alone-yet even now such day Is dawn
ing. and out Of darkness shall come light