Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1895-12-23
THE OTHER GUEST,
BY GEORGE R. SIMS.

Copyright 1895, by Bachelor. johnson & Bacheller)
1t was cold Christmas, and a snowy
Christmas, and old-fashioned folks who
remembered the Christmas numbers of the
Dickens days, and had rebelled against the
damp muggy Christmases which had come
in with the new literature rubbed their
hands and professed to be highly delighted
that the seasons had shown signs of COM
ing to their senses again. and returning to
the beaten track OF conventionality.
A broad-shouldered. gray-headed, vigor-
GUS looking man of sixty. with signs of
weather on his face and the cut of the
colonies about his clothes. stood at a first
floor window of the Fair View Hotel at
Great Malvern on Christmas day and gazed
ncodily at the white landscape that
stretched far away before him.
Then he thrust his hands into his pockets
and went downstairs into the coffee room
and interviewed the waiter. who was stir
ring the fire with one hand and stroking
fat black cat with the other.
Anybody else staying in the house.
waiter?"
The waiter dropped the poker and turned
found sharply with professional smile of
greeting.
Yes, sir: one gentleman"
What sort of gentleman
Young fellow, sir, very quiet, gentle
manly looking young fellow, sir. Only ar
rived yesterday, sir. London gentleman, L
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 it an imperti-
hence if 1 asked him to dine with me?"
i
I've had much conversation with him up
to now. SIR
Mr.. John Oldroyd had come to Malvern
for few weeks because he was suffering
from an old enemy, rheumatism, and
man at the club had told him that Malvern
was an excellent place for rheumatic pa
tients. People arrived there limping and
hobbling, and after few weeks there
were climbing the hills before breakfast,
and performing marvellous feats OF pc
Gestriani:''r all !.'y long.
1t didn't matter very much to John ODD
royd where he went, and he hadn't taken
into consideration that he would be in a
hotel on Christmas day, because wherever
he had been he would have been equally
cast upon his resources for the festivities of
the occasion He had made a fortune in
South Africa by i lucky mining speculation,
after knowing all the horrors of being a
penniless loafer in new land, and he had
come back to England with the reputation
of being millionaire. But he had eft no
frien Is in South Africa, and he had come
back to none in England.
His wealth would have given him hosts
of acquaintances but he had never been a
man to encourage acquaintances. He was
CHEEKY and amiable to every one in business,
but out of business he what is vulgarly
called ''stand-offish." He very soon let peo-
pie know that he had no desire for company.
and he mad never been known to accept an
invitation, however heartily it was prof
fered.
And here was this man, who had never
IN had
lived the life of a recluse in the grandest
hotels of Europe, suddenly smitten with
desire to have companion 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
re ON window at the quiet little mountain
town covered with snow and silent as the
grave. save for the changing of the abbey
bells. he had shrugged his shoulders and
put 1t down to i'll health. Late in life he
was developing nerves." He thought it
might perhaps be the result of the rheu-
matte attack from which he had been suffer-
ing-attacks which were getting more fire.
Quent and more severe every year. and the
seeds of which had been sown In the old
days. when ne roughed 1t in wild, inhos-
pitable country. 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.
Il suppose it's nerves." he said, "but l
never felt like it before, and It's not at all a
pleasant sensation. Why the dickens should
l want somebody to dine with me this even
ing? I've dined alone dozens of Christmas
days before, and nothings troubled me- not
even my conscience. But now"
And Their he had fresh symptom which
alarmed him more than the idea of nerves
He began to think-to conjure up memories
OF the past, to see back into his life-far far
back to time that he had forced himself
for years to forget.
What he saw made his lips CULVER. and a
gray look came into his face, and sent him
downstairs in a hurry to interview the
walter as to the possibility of finding a fell
low guest to make some kind of company
for him for Christmas day.
While he was talking to the waiter the
"other guest came into the coffee ROOM
He had on his hat and overcoat, and was
evidently just going out.
He was tall. good-looking young fellow
of about twenty and five, but his face was
pale and his eyes had dull, heavy look