The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1894-07-22

famous parish church in England" with
its sad memories of ChattertOn, and at
the Bristol railway station l accidentally
| noticed that Kirby DOrklin had secured
! our bookings through Gloucester 10 Wor-
| cester, although he knew, from my inter
minable praises of Gloucester cathedral,
that l desired to visit and study it more
than any other sacred ediice in Eng
land.
kept silent, resolved to meet cunning
with stratagem.
1t was night; we were both exceedingly
tired; tucked up the old gentleman care
| fully in our travelling rugs, and ne was
soon sound asleep.
] sent a message from the first telegraph
station, ordering carriage to be in readi-
ness at Gloucester. On arriving there l
waited in my seat until the train was just
on the point of departure; and then with
a lively scr1m Die and unfeeling halloas of
"Worcester!n l rushed my easy and
drowsy victim out of his snug corner,
through the din and clamor of the station
platform, and, finally, into a tranquil
apartment of the ancient "New Inn
where, unconscious of the ruse which had
beed perpetrated upon him, he slept
sweetly as a child until morn.
in a moment! In a moment" shouted
Kirby DOrklin, in response to my gentle
tapping at the door of his chamber the
next morning. "Ah ~ he continued gayly,
lat old Worcester cathedral we lall find
the tomb of King John, the most ancient
regal monument in Englandr'
But we will first see the tomb Of the
murdered Edward, here, at Gloucester"
l answered back as cheerily.
There was at first loud snort within
the apartment. Then my uncle retorted
fiercely:
"Here-in-G Gloucester"
Certainly. Gloucester. You booked
from Bristol to Gloucester, didn't your"
We are at the most charming of all an
Gent inns of Ecgland--the New Inn,' on
Northgate street, you know; built during
the abbacy of Thomas Sebroke, over $50
years ago, to house the pilgrims to Ed
wards tomb"
There was ominous silence in Kirby
Dorklin's room.
Think of it," continued enthusiast
tically, What an experience to pass a
night in hostel more than half thou
sand years old; to perhaps sleep in the
very bed where pilgrim princes and pre-
lates have slept; to-"
"Damnation !-Bah" roared Kirby
Dorklin, as heard the huge inner iron
bolt of the door crash into the socket.
Come now make haste! Let's have
an early breakfast. l want you to point
out to me all the interesting things about
DIR. Jeune's reservations -
There was no answer from Kirby Dork-
Inns room.
IF you won't Gomez continued prod
dinghy, "l'll hunt up " 'tother one" and
get her to act as my guide"
There was now a commingled uproar of
snortings stormings, exasperated excla-
nations and crashing furniture in Kirby
Dorklin's room.
waited long time for the resumption
of tranquility which evidently finally re-
suited more from exhaustion than the
calming of Kirby Dorklin's spirit, and
then, after various efforts TO rescue the
sel-fmade prisoner from himself, with
hearty assurances that his breakfast
should be served at his door and with as
cheering parting words as | coulC muster
L descended into the vine-embowered
court of the ancient inn.
Never elsewhere can be seen such a
radiant tumble of odd corners, little
arches, rose-covered galleries, protruding
upper stories, peep-holes of tiny-paned
windows, fantastic dormers and gables,
low and shadowy offices, strange "os-
tries" shining tap-rooms and wealth of
foliage and chubby-cheeked bar maids, to
hlghten the mysteries, cheer and charm
of the typical old English inn, as was
here.
The gray cathedral town, far from the
ways of travel, rich in history, legends
and the quaint old architecture of the
long ago and still simple and peaceful in
its provincial coloring aud ways, at last
won me from the cosy breakfast room,
out upon old Northgate street, on pas
the ancient city Gross" along dim
Westgate street, through the narrow pas
sage or 'slype" of College Court and into
the shadowy and sunshine-dappled ca
thedral close.
II was a glorious morning and l was
glad | was alone. l endeavored to ana
lyZe my strange sense of elation and my
stranger Indifference to Kirby Dorklin' S
savagery and discontinue. But l found
that my tinge of regret was as feeting as
the gentle breeze whispering among the
lines Of st. Marys square and the
dreamy, restful close.
AS l wandered about the exterior of
the massive pile another curious feeling
possessed me. / could not see where,
when, nor how, but an impression, pre-
sentiment. or a conviction, seized me that
right there, near me, something was To
be discovered, revealed, or was to occur,
which would happily affect my eccentric
uncle's strangely ordered life as we'll as
my own.
This was so strong upon me that ]
looked up startled into the windows OF
| the fine old fourteenth century houses
which huddled up on the close and the
| square, half expecting the embarrass-
ment of their occupants consciousness oil
my thought II was early, and only here
and there had tiny old window been
! thrown open to the light and fragrance
of the morning.
Not a soul was stirring within the close
nor in the sweet old thoroughfares sur.
! rounding it. l stepped forward toward
! the open door of the south cathedral
| porch, smiling at the righteousness of my
| own thoughts. With this smile still on
! my face, | turned again and looked above
| me at the quiet houses.
just over my head 1 saw a maiden s
| face, fair as the morning. Its owner was
| leaning from a window easement, bare
headed and radiant, as if for draught
! of the sunlight and odor of the roses and
! flowers. Our eyes met. She, too, was
smiling, as though she had interpreted
my thoughts as they had sent the glow
! OF genial merriment into her cheeks and
! great hazel eyes.
| At almost the same instant woman
stood beside her. She had come forward
| with that intangible trace of smile in
her own face, which a smile in a sympa-
| thetic companions always prompts, even
before its cause is known. IL was a
! kindly face, the face of an elderly woman
who had known dolor, but had conquered
pain; a face sweet and good and patient,
nodded into divine if not physical beauty
out of consideration for others, out of the
sitting of some life cry in her own heart,