The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1894-11-16

bottle and put 1t on the table beside
Armour, together with glass and some
water. Armour poured out stiff
draft, added, very little water and
drank it. He drew a great sigh and
stood looking at the paper.
SIS there anything can do for you,
Mr. Armour urged the trader.
Nothing thank you, nothing at all.
Just leave the brandy here, will you?
feel knocked about, and l have to go
through the rest of these letters
He ran his fingers through the pile,
turning it over hastily, as if searching
for something. The trader understood.
He was a cool headed Scotsman. He
knew that there were some things best
not inquired into, and that men must
have their bad hours alone. He glanced
at the brandy debatingly, but presently
turned and left the room in silence. In
his own mind, however, he wished he
might have taken the brandy without
being discourteous. Armour had dis
covered Miss Sherwood's letter. Before
he opened it he took little more bran
dy. Then he sat down and read it de-
| 1lDCl LhO lldlSOL AittNl SlStlIl1Cu
him. The fingers of one hand even drum
med on the table. But the face was
drawn, the eyes were hard, and the look
of him was altogether pinched. After
| he had finished this he looked for others
from the same hand. He found more.
Then he picked out those from his
mother and father. He read them
grimly.
Once he paused as he read his moth
er's letter and took a great gulp of plain
brandy. There was something very like
q sheer on his face when he finished it.
He read the hollowness of the sympathy
extended to him. He understood the far
from adroit references to Lady Agnes
Martling. He was very bitter. He read
no more letters, but took up The Morn
ing Post again and read it slowly
through. The look of his face was not
pleasant. There was small looking
glass opposite him. He caught sight
of himself i'll it. He drew his hand across
his eyes and forehead, as though he
was in miserable dream. He looked
again. He could not recognize himself.
He then bundled the letters and pa
pers into his dispatch box. His atten
ton was drawn to one letter. He picked
it up. 1t was from Richard. He started
to break the seal, but paused. The
strain of the event was too much. He
WINGED. He determined not to read it
then, to wait until he had recovered
himself. He laughed now painfully. 1t
had been better fer hint had maybe
averted what people used to term his
tragedy--had he read his brothers. let
ter at that moment, for Richard Ar
mour was sensible man, notwith-
standing his peculiarities, and perhaps
the most sensible words he ever wrote
were i'll that letter thrust unceremoni-
ously into Frank Armour's pocket.
Armour had received a terrible blow.
He read his life backward. He had no
future The liquor he had drunk had
not fevered him. 1t had not wildly eX.
cited him. 1t merely drew him up to a
point where he could put sudden i'm
pulse into practice without fiinching
He was bitter against his people. He
credited thom with more interference
than was actual. He felt that happi-
ness had gone out of his life and left
him hopeless. AS we said, he was q
man of quick decisions. Hewould have
made a dashing but reckless soldier.
He was not without the elements of the
gamester. 1t is possible that there was
in him also a strain of cruelty, unde-
veloped, but radical.
Life so far had developed the best In
him. He had been CHEEKY and candid.
Now he travelled back into new avenues
of his mind and found strange aborigi-
nal passions fully adapted to the present
situation, Vulgar anger and reproaehes