The Wilmington daily Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1890-1902, 1894-01-10

2nere's n uirrerence ON the point,o an
swered my father. 'I'm for the law part
ly because l remember your own prosperi-
~, cousin. and he's--well, he's against 1t. .
HIM, ha" said Mr. Clephane, stroking
his well nourished chin. Dear me. that's
unfortunate, and yet it would never do for
us all to be Of the same mind. There are
many ways Of making living, cousin, and
the laddie has his own tastes nae doot. AS
to the law, It's with it as with many an
other thing, those like it best who know
least about IL. At the best it's slippery
game, in which ten fall for one who keeps
his feet. have sprackled through--l'il no
deny 1t, but wi theskin o. my teeth, as the
man of Uz says. Pm not sure I'd advise
another fellow to follow In my steps. But
dinna let me interfere; dinna let me come
between father and son." Whereupon Mr.
Clephane rubbed his hands, thus figura,
lively washing them of the whole business
and the subject oftalk was changed.
When highland hospitalities had been
dispensed, Mr.. Clephane and my father
went out for walk, leaving me behind.
l was not sorry, since their absence gave
mo an opportunity Of speaking with my
mother, who, good soul, was ever willing
to take my part l told her my whole story
unreservedly, and she sympathized as only
mother can. / also told her the history
OF my relations with Peter, which startled
and surprised her.
at is a shame, Andrew" she said, with
the tears cleaning in her dear eyes, .'but
Mr.. Clephane probably knows nothing of
Peters behavior, and at any rate for your
fathers sake we must uphold the honor Of
kilburnie. 1t must not be said he came
here and was i'll received"
And then with many caress she told
me she quite understood my unhappy posi-
tion, and that she would do what She could
to re-establish me in my fathers favor. |
could see, however, that the loyal heart
was deeply troubled. She would fain have
seen me obey, while pledging her word as a
partisan. My blessings on her memory.
As fate would have 1t, when my father
and his visitor returned they were accom-
panied by neighboring laird, Sir Thomas
Gordon of The Elms, of whom the reader
has already casually heard from mine host
of the Hound and Stag. Meeting the baro-
net in the course of their walk, my father,
with the impulsive generosity which had
wrought such trouble to his house, insisted
on taking him home for luncheon regard
less OF domestic convenience or resource,
But my mother was right glad to see Sir
Thomas and he In turn was glad to see
her, declaring in his fine old fashioned man.
ner it did his heart good Just to cross the
threshold of Kilburnie.
Sir Thomas, my mother had told me, al.
ways gave her the impression that he was
extremely lonely. He might have been
happy as the world goes A retired Anglo
Indian official, he was wealthy, and though
widower, he had the companionship of
devoted daughter whose equal in beauty
and goodness has not breathed since Eve
left paradise. But these blessings were
mysteriously counterbalanced There was
a break in his health, and-one could see il
plainly-a break in his heart, two evils for
which money is no medicine, and which
even fIlial devotion can hardly do more
than alleviate.
Sir Thomas had both seen and done a
great deal in times that history now calls
stirring. He had been a prominent actor
in more than one memorable and exciting
scene. He had fought valiant battle. and
victory had crowned his exertions. Yet he
had skeleton in the cupboard He sighed
often, and his habitual look was downcast
But he was not Of those who parade their
woes. In company he was cheerful in
subdued way and always gentle and con-
siderate. Much knowledge of men and
their imperfections had not hardened him,
and bitter experiences had but saddened,
not soured, his sweet spirit. Nor had years
of authority and much honor DESTROYED his
childlike simplicity.
hoped that'luncheon would pass with
out reference being made to what had
brought me home, but in that was dis.
appointed, for the matter lay too near my
fathers heart to be kept out of his CONVEX
sation. Sir Thomas was told of the plans
that had been made for me, and how for
some unaccountable reason was bent on
spelling them.
I'VE must not be angry or disappointed
II youth does not see with the eyes of age,n
said Sir Thomas graciously, looking at
me. Morning and evening have different
lights. Mr.. Andrew has the fresh vision
and quick intelligence Of his time Of life.
They are not to be despised. At the same |
time l am sure he will consider soberly and
not underestimate the importance Of the |
decision he is called on to make. Least Of
all will he grieve by any obstinacy those to
whom his welfare is perhaps dearer than to
himself" and then he added after pause;
Peoples thoughts run on the lines that
are most familiar to them. India occurred
to me. make O mere suggestion, How
would you like to make your fortune In
IndiaW
No better place in the world for young |
man of ability and enterprise" put in Mr. |
Clephane quickly. "Dod, many's the for
tune has been made in India think see
In Andrew a nabob in embryo"
No one took the least notice Of him, all |
the attention being bent on me. Twas EN-
barrassed and foundered like q man out Of |
his depth and reckoning. l had not
thought Of India, but as the drowning man |
clutches at straw SO ardently expressed |
desire to go to India, greatly to the aston
ishment of my father and the horror and !
CONSERVATION of my poor mother.
do not make a hasty choice" said Sir
Thomas in his kindly tone Come to The
Elms tomorrow evening, and we will talk |,
the matter over at dinner Perhaps we
may have the honor of Mr.. and Mrs. Kill
gour's company also, and Mr.. Clephane,
shall be honored If you, too, will Join us.
Then we can all help destiny to choose a
career for Mr.. Andrew" And so it was ar
ranged. For the present at least / had
relief.
CHAPTER ".
THE ELAts-A MoMENToUS DECISION.
Youth has an enyiable knack of turning
lAah ha, Il ba Ill |