The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1896-09-04

| seemed looking back into his own with
familiar kindliness.
"Tell me about it. Was he i'll? Did
he suffer much?"
"Had he been ill I should have writ
ten so. My letters told you of his grad
ual weakening of body and mind
through many months. He missed you
and Henry greatly as he failed. He
would sit hours at time by his window
here and look down the road. think
he was watching for one or both of you
to come. And then, toward the last, he
sat oftenest on the back porch, with a
lingering expression in his eyes. He
seemed to be taking a farewell of the
hills he had always known and so soon
must leave. He did not speak often of
you or Henry. You know he was a
reticent man. The morning of the day
he died he asked when you were coming
home, and then he said: If / could
only know them reconciled-my two
boys An hour or SO later I came in,
and he was sitting where you sit now,
with the album on his knee. 1 spoke,
but he did not answer" Tears were fall
ing fast over Miss AIMS withered
cheeks. "He had died looking at the
picture of you and Henry, taken togeth-
er as children"
A blur passed again before Gerard's
eyes. He could not see the tintype in
his fingers.
"Do you think that Henry will be
herein time?"
"He has been here through it all. He
came the day his father died"
The pronoun "his'' touched Gerard.
It seemed to put him at an immeasura-
BILE distance from the still form which.
without asking, he knew lay in the
closed parlor. AS mischievous little
boy, as wild young lad, he had received
the larger measure of tenderness, per-
haps because followed by the larger
measure of anxiety, but in the ten years
of estrangement between the brothers
Judge Boynton had turned most to the
elder son. This had not been unnoticed
by Gerard, though his rare visits home
kept him from feeling the difference.
New interests had crowded out the old
Excitement of hours spent on change
had put the even tenor of Bloomington
| tdyR lHT III UliC III III ILLS
moment he had not realized with what
strong bonds home associations still
held him. The life of which he had
grown to think as narrow and primitive
and slow now seemed to have held the
essence of true existence. The rich
broker, noted among business men for
his keenness and sagacity, having all
influence that extended widely beyond
his palatial home and that had brought
him many responsible positions, sud-
denly felt himself pitifully alone. He
thought of the woman upstairs with the
beautiful face and the haughtily-poised
head, but the thought brought no sense
of nearness to any human being. Then
he met his aunt's eyes-still wet and
shining with almost maternal tender
ness. He was not alone. after all. He
got up and went over to her, putting
hand on her shoulder.
81 will go in and see him now"
Shut into the darkened parlor-be-
fore him only that coffin covered with
the costly flowers which he himself had
chosen, Gerard Boynton stood still He
felt something keeping him back
something that stood between him and
the dead man, and that would not let
him look upon the quiet face. And he
knew what it was. The estrangement
that had grown between two brothers
fronted him now like @ visible thing.
1t was taunting him with it's power to
hold him away-it was reminding him
that his was the blame.
He remembered well how it began.
He had come for a summer vacation.
and found at the old home girl whom
Henry had brought as his fiancee-a
girl delicate and shy, with the sweetest
smile in the world. And because of the
smile, because Miss Ann petted her.
and his father talked of her, and Henry
followed her with looks of devotion, he
had slipped into a way OF trying to
please her more than anyone else could
please-succeeding so well that one day
Henry paused in the library door
with gray eyes blazing black in color
less face. and quivering lips hurting
such words as "traitor" and "scoun-
dreT' at the brother who stood thus
holding a frightened girl in his arms
and giving back defiance for indigna-
tion. There were tears from Miss Ann
and reproaches from the judge; Henry
shut the bitterness of heart made void
into his own room for days; the girl
with the smile went back to her people,
and Gerard went also.
But while with Henry it had been the
love of life time, with Gerard it was
only phase. His passion dulled with
distance; his letters grew less frequent.
and stopped altogether after one even
ing at club reception when pair of
magnificent black eyes looked into. his
own, He married the eyes and o Tor
tune with them. The fortune invested
had been many times doubled, had
brought him the reputation of being a
peculator who always came out gilded,
but the eyes had brought him only a
splendid creature, who threw over her
fan at some ballroom gallant such
smiles as she never bestowed upon her
husband after the novelty of married
life had worn off. and left his great
house to the devices of servants for
months at q time while she flung her,
self into the gayety of watering place
and mountain resort, or visited some
foreign city of note. What disappoint-
ment Gerard Beynton might have felt
concerning his marriage he accepted
with consciousness of a girls smile
chilled unto death and brothers days
embittered because of his faithlessness.