The old Abe eagle., 1894-05-03

sometimes panied me. His endeavor to find
a cheerful outlook in the future only proved
how persistently memories OF the past
haunted him, how tedious the present mo
ment was. Now you have changed all that"
"Ir'
"Ycs. you were more TO him than sight.
The loss OF you was the real grief, not the
loss of his eyes. That he looked upon al
most as n foreseen calamity-'the chance of
war; as he says. He has always main
tained that you woul, Jme back The
next room is yours. 1t was furnished ex-
pressly for you, and all that belonged to
you in Lambeth is in there. Nothing yet
from my little frend?' he has asked some
, times after | have read his letters to him.
You have always been present here to him.
felt that. 1t hurt me sometimes to feel
that | could never be so much to him as
you were ! am sure that my presence ir-
ritated him sometimes, and that he was
glad to be left alone. In those moments he
was thinking of you. Something In my
manner compared unfavorably with bis
recollection OF you. can afford to tell you
all this now, dear. At one time it wounded
my pride to suspect it, and would not have
confessed the fuct to myself, but it gives me
| Joy to tell you all now"
She left me as Mere Lucas tapped at the
door and humbly begged to speak to her
dear mademoiselle. wished could es-
cape also, thought the poor old woman
would never be comforted or cease to beat
| her ample breast and call herself hard
| names.
''To think of the indignities, the affronts,
the insults l offered you, my dear, my most
| respected mademoisellel What brute
was, what an animal, what an imbecle! To
offer you a place as domestic servant in
this house; to take you into my own room
when ought to have led you into the best
drawing room; to permit myself to eat at
the same table with you, and to offer you
the little wine and the remains of food that
are only good enough for fool and dolt
! such as | am-though certainly they are
better than deserve. And to think that
you had behaved unworthily at the very
time when you were risking your life to
save my dear master, and, what is more to
| believe i'll Of that dear NJ. Gordon, who
! could do no wrong to save his life, God
/ bless him-aS droll as ever and as kind
But | am richly punished for it, look you
i for broke three things since lunch and let
i my milk boil over for the first time in my
life. All, mon Dieu, that it should come
to this at my age!"
Happily the fear of some further Gull
nary disaster put an end to her sobs and
self reproaches, but for long while after
/ never passed her without hearing her ad
dress herself as a camel, a pig or some
other object of contempt.
George Gordon, going to the window
after dinner exclaimed:
IA glorious night, by Jovei How would
1t be if we went out for half al hour"
Very agreeable, should say" replied
Taras
The idea was equally acceptable to Ju
dith and me, and when we had put on oul
wraps we joined Gordon and Taras in the
garden. Chatting and laughing we strollet
down the broad walk in row, but passing
through the gate Taras and Judith tooh
the lead, and in that order we sauntereC
along the Woking road, Judith, believe
intending to take the bypath to her favor
ite seat in the wood.
At the angle of the road Gordon stopped
to relight his pipe.
This is the old box" said he, scratching
vesta. do you remember that day
when we found there were only TIVE
matches left2"