The Penn's Grove record., 1895-06-28

n n RS. sANDRYL-KEMPToN
MI sat before the fire in her wide,
A'A airy, faded drawing-room and
thoughts Of Theodore Vellan Of old
days, and wondered what the present
Lord vellan would be like. She had
got a note from him that morning. dis
patched from Southampton the day be-
tore, announcing: 81 shall be in town to-
morrow-at Bowden's Hotel. in Cork
street." and asking when he might
come to her. She had answered by
telegraph: "Come and dine at 8
tonight" to which he had wired back
IN acceptance Thereupon she had told
her son that he must dine at his club;
and now she was seated before her fire.
waiting for Theodore yellan to arrive,
md thinking of thirty years ago.
She was a bride then. and her hus-
band, her brother Paul and Theodore
vellan were bound in q league Of ar
lent young mannish friendship. a
friendship that dated from the time
when they had been undergraduates to-
gether at Oxford. She thought of the
three handsome, happy, talented young
men, and Of the brilliant future she had
f~oreseen for each of them, her hus-
band at the bar, her brother in the
church, and Vellan-not in politics; she
could never understand his political
aspirations; they seemed quite at odds
with the rest Of his character-but in
literature, as a poet, for be wrote verse
which she considered very unusual and
pleasing. She thought Of this, and then
she remembered that her husband was
lead, that her brother was dead. and
that Theodore yellan had been dead, to
his world. at all events, for thirty
years. Not n Of them had In any
way distinguished himself; not one
had In any measure fulfilled the prom.
se of his youth.
Her memories were sweet and bitter;
Ehey made her heart glow and ache.
vellan, as she recalled him. had been,
before all things, gentle. He was
witty, he had humor. he had magma
ton, but he was, before oil things. gen.
tle-with the gentlest voice, the gentlast
eyes: the gentlest manners. his gentle
ress, she told herself, was the chief
element Of his charm. She smiled as
HE remembered II, but at the same time
she put her handkerchief to her eyes.
"Why did he 60 away? What could
It have beenY' she wondered. her old
longing to comprehend 1t reviviug with
something OF the old force. could It
have been? . Could 1t have
beenf" And an old guess, an
old theory, one she had spoken to
anybody, but had pondered much In 81
lenc9, again presented itself interroga.
lively to her mind.
The door opened; the butler mumbled
A name, and she saw q tall, white
haired, pale old man smiling at her and
holding out his hands. 1t took her q
little while to realize who It was. With
an unthinking dlsallowance for the ac-
ton OF time, she had been expecting
= young fellow Of eight and twenty,
brown haired and rudy.
Perhaps he, on his side, was taken
aback q little to meet q nIddle-aged
lady In q cap.
After dinner he would not let her
Haye him, but returned with hei to the
drawing-room. and she said that he
might smoke He smoked odd little
Cuban cigarettes, whereof the odof
was delicate and aromatic. They had
talked of everything; they had laughed
and sighed over their ancient Joys and
Sorrows We know how In the courts
Of memory merry mirth and melan-
eholy wander hand in hand. She had
cried Q little when her husband and her
brother were first spoken of. but at
rome cSmla .reminiscsnees af them 4