The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1895-12-23

Waiter?'
er, who was stirring the fire with one
lplnd and stroking fat. black cat with
the other.
Anybody else staying in the house.
waiter?"
The waiter dropped the poker and
turned round sharply with a profess
sional smile Of greeting.
"Yes, sir, one gentleman"
"What sort of u gentleman?"
"Young fellow, sir, very quiet, gentle
manly looking young fellow, sir. Only
arrived yesterday, sir. London gentle
men, think, sir"
HAS he ordered his dinner here"
Yes, sir, in the coffee room. Six
O'Clock, sir
Hum! He's going to dine alone in
the coffee room on Christmas Day, and
I'm going to dine alone in my sitting
room. l wonder whether he'd think 1t
an impertinence If / asked him to dine
with me?'
Cant say, I'm sure, sir. I can't say
as I've had much conversation with him
up to now, sir"
Mr.. John Oldroyd had come to NAL
vern for few weeks because he was
suffering from an old enemy, rheuma-
tism, and a man at the club had told
him that Malvern was an excellent
place for rheumatic patients. People
arrived there limping and hobbling,
and after few weeks there were climb
ing the hills before breakfast, and per-
forming marvellous feats of pedestrian
ism all day long.
1t didn't matter very much to John
Oldroyd where he went, and he hadn't
taken into consideration that he would
be in a hotel on Christmas Day, be-
cause wherever he had been he would
have been equally cast upon his re-
sources for the festivities of the Occa-
sion. He had made O. fortune in South
Africa by a lucky mining speculation,
after knowing all the horrors Of be-
ing penniless loafer in a new land, and
he had come back to England with the
reputation of being q millionaire. But
he had left no friends in South Africa,
and he had come back to none in Eng
land.
His wealth would have given him
hosts Of acquaintances, but he had
never been q man to encourage ac-
quaintances. He was CHEEKY and ami
able to everyone in business, but out
OF business he was what Is vulgarly
called "stand-o offish." He very soon let
people know that he had no desire for
company, and he had never been known
to accept an invitation, however hearth
ly 1t was proffered.
And here was this man who had
never cared for the society of anyone
who had lived the life Of recluse in the
grandest hotels Of Europe, suddenly
smitten with a desire to have a COM
panion at his Christmas dinner table
at the little Malvern hotel
When the idea first came to him In
the morning, as he sat looking out of
his sitting-room window at the quiet
little mountain town covered with
snow and silent as the grave, save fol-
the changing Of the abbey bells, he
had shrugged his shoulders, and put II
down to ill-health. Late in life, he was
developing nerves" He thought II
might perhaps be the result Of the
rheumatic attack from which he had
been suffering-attacks which were
getting more frequent and more severe
every year, and the seeds of which had
been sown in the old days when he
roughed 1t in a wild. inhospitable coun-
try. and spent long days and nights
in the cold and damp, with pipe OF
tobacco for his only luxury, and an old
horse rug for his only blanket.
II suppose it's nerves." he said, but
never felt like 1t before, and it's not
at all a pleasant sensation. Why the
dickens should want somebody to dine
with me this evening? I've dined alone
dozens of Christmas Days before, and
nothing's troubled me. not even my
conscience. But now"
And then he had a fresh symptom
which alarmed him more than the idea
Of nerves. He began to- think-to con-
jure up. memories Of the past, to see
back into his life--far, far back to @
time that he had forced himself fol-
years to forget.
and gray look came into his face. anG
sent him downstairs in a hurry to in.
terview the waiter as to the possibility
Of finding fellow guest to make some