The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1894-04-29


geous tomb.
Mir. Garble returned within an hours
? time no less determined than ever upon
reform. As he entered his door the subtle
consciousness Of the silence Of his home
instantly oppressed him. He stepped TO
the conservatory, but his daughter was
not there. Even all traces Of the meal
had disappeared. He wandered about
the spacious rooms for little time, ana
finally assembled the stairs. He listened
at the door of his daughters apartment.
he heard no sound within and became
alarmed. Then he knocked, careful that
the sound should be sufficiently familiar
and friendly and vet contain a nice
shading Of assertiveness and authority.
Receiving no answer he at last pushed
open the door. A single glance told him
the story of his daughters fight
de caught once or twice at the oalus-
| trade for support as he descended the
stairs, and remembe that but once be-
| fore had there seemed so little left in his
whole life horizon That was years ago
when an open hearse had stood before his
door.
20, cannot bear this" he groaned as
he staggered into the library. James
he taltered, as the butler came in answer
to his bell, did you see Grace when she
left the housed We had few words-a
few unpleasant words James"
| ~ on cry SDIIS. oil. AOAAC AC-
marked on leaving with her parcels and
trunks, sir, as she'd had a thorough un-
| Outstanding with you, sir"
lie ordered his carriage 1t was at the
door in very short time, but it seemed
the dreariest waiting of his life. He
gave his coachman an almost incoherent
| order. entered the vehicle and hastily de-
parted. Men and women VINO We're pass
ing at the moment caught 4 glimpse of
| the famous editor as he stepped into his
| carriage. and, looking up TO the splendid
! mansion above them, enVled him his
\ wealth, his power and the almost prince
| ly sumptuousness of his abode
| Over in the older quarter of the city,
where little, quaint, old brick houses had
never crowded each other so closely as to
| Danish the cheeriness of genuine homes,
| dwelt Mr.. MelancthOn Mold, obituary ed
ltor with his sweet, little, old, white
| haired wife and their fine, robust, hope
| full son. Robert Mold, architect, draughts-
man and constructing engineer.
| Their pretty little habitation was
| hooded over with dOrmer windows sur
mounted by huge old chimneys. covered
with creepers and vines, and most curious
| indeed of interior arrangement, partly
| from the fanciful changes wrought by the
| Garbles before they had left the place
| for their great mansion, and again, from
| the pleasant whims of its present Occu-
pants; for long cOmpanionship and symp-
athletic vocations had drawn into this
kindly family circle Jeremy Garble's
second column" editor, Mr.. Luke Rad
| dies, widower, and his veteran political
editor, Mr.. Richard Northup, bachelor al
large.
An entire floor of the old structure had
| thus become one of the Coolest living
rooms eyes ever beheld. Little bay win
dows extended to the right and left,
broken by curious alcoves; so that at the
rear Robert Mold had his wOrk-room,
study and fireplace; at one side Mr. Rad
dies had his sunny window, desk and
| shelves of books; almost opposite, old
| Mr.. Northup was enscOnCed in a similar
snuggery, while fireplace filled an angle
| between them; a little further to the
| front Mr.. Mold had what Grace Garble
| called 1.-THE cunningest SANCTION in all the
world, y with a pretty, tiny-paned win
dow opening to the rear; and at the front
of the room was another fireplace with
| several ancient easy chairs comfortably
| disposed. where Mrs. Mold, of an even
| ing, sat beside her purring cat and knit
| or mended, now and then looking up from
her work over her gold-rimmed spectacles
| with radiant smile upon the different
members of her happy home.
| On this night, when misfortune had
| come so swiftly to the older men of the
| household, there was still an air Of grim
and independent Cheeriness within the
coy room. Mrs. Mold sat beside her hus-
band, holding his faithful hand in hers
| MIR. Raddles reclined in his usual posture
before his desk, which that evening had
| received the accession of a quaint old
Argand lamp. Mr.. Northup had Just fin
ished reading a note delivered by mes
| Senger but few moments before and
! Robert Mold had not returned from his
down town Office, where he had secret
| hopes of gaining an award on his plans
for the construction of some important
public editice.
Upon my soul" exclaimed old Mr.
| Nortbup loudly, as he tossed the letter to
| Raddles, I'VE are all in the same boat"
You don't mean it, Northup?"
| There it is. Thurber put it as kindly
as he could, and thank him for it; but
Garble must be entirely out of his head.
Why, its unacCOuntable-'
"Contemptiblei' echoed Luke Raddles.
tossing the letter of notification back to
his friend.
Outrageous groaned old Mr.. Mold
Indignantly. If l had the writing of
onat mans obituary tonight, he'd not
even get three lines; not even one. One
word would tell the whole story-'In-
grate'.'
There, then, Melanethon!" crooned
his little old wife soothingly. "Remem-
bSI, uSdIs ever y bulLg can 90 on Un6 same
way forever. We've got our home We've
got our good friends here We've
got our Bob. And when Bob and Grace
are married.
Tut. tut! Do you suppose, wife, old
Garble'n ever give up that girl to such as
us, nowl Never."
Never" echoed old Mr. Northup, dol
orously.
II should say never several times -
added Luke Raddles, laconically. without
changing his position in front of the Ar
gand lampI
At this consensus of forceful male
opinion, poor Mrs Mold began to sob, but
was interrupted by an impetuous knock
at the door. In an instant more Grace
Garble burst into the room, her cheeks
glowing with excitement, her arms full OF
parcels and her tongue running on at a
great rate to her companion, who was
staggering beneath the weight of a huge
trunk and two cumbrous portmanteaus.
Bob disappeared instantly, and Grace,
dragging the bewildered Mr.. Northup and
Mr., Raddles to where the old couple sat
with an imperious, stand right there
now threw herself across old Mr..
Mods chair-arm, ana with one arm en-
circling his shriveled neck, rapturously
produced little book, opened it, and be-
gan
Tell me the truth, now, every one OF
Z 20 oil NJ Of