Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1896-07-24
HIS IDEAL WOMAN.

HIS IDEAL WOMAN. |
The first thing did on getting back
from India was to spend week with
nv people in the country. A good deal
can happen in five years, and we natural
w had plenty to talk about. But l tore
myself away at last with promise toj
return for August and settled myself IN
town in my old lodgings off ST. James
street.
Apart from the various business mat
tiers requiring my at .on-my invest
ments had not improved during my alb
sence, and it was necessary to cast my
eve about for other securities-London,
at the moment, appealed to me 1rreslstl-
bly,.
There, within the four mile radius,
was massed the whole of what 1 hao
missed during my five years III o remote
citation in Burma-the life, the mo-
tion. the perpetual sense OF somethlng
going on, of being in close proximity
# not in absolute contact with, the
cource of current modes Of thought, OF
hearing the ceaseless hum OF the wheels
of civilization, the throb Of actually, OF
which not even the echoes had penetrat-
ed to the squat white bungalow on the
hanks of the Irawadi, where the mon
otonv had not been varied by even SO
much as a moments fighting, and one
made ND for saving ones intellectual by
oyerfeeding ones physical instincts.
Once in town, found myself plunged
into a vortex of amusement There
were old friends to be ''looked up. .
When "looked up" they insisted on
dinner, to be followed by theater or
music hall. Some Of the men l had
"done the town" with five years before
had got married. had to make the ac-
ouaintance of their wives Others who
had been married had been divorced. l
had to forget that they had ever been
married.
One way and another I was so busy
that it was not till the end of a month
that I remembered that had not seen
Wetherby. He had always been lone OF
u.s. in the old days at Oxford and
elsewhere, prepared for anything and
everything, and could not make out
how it was that 7 had not already come
across him.
"Oh, Wetherby,'' said Benson, the
stockbroker, when I asked him What
had happened to our old friend, eve
never see Wetherby now. He is supposed
to be in love. For myself, believe he
was just going to marry a girl, and she
died, with the result that he has beer
brooding over her death ever since.
Anyway, no one ever seems to see
him anywhere, though he's still goi
the same old rooms in the temple. &c
and look him up by all means, but
don't suppose you'll be able to see him,
or, if you do, to get anything out Of
him. AS I say, he never seems to &C
out anywhere, though, as you know he
used to be such great ladies' man. p"
"With strong views as to the ideal
woman - put in, remembering various
conversations we had had on the subject.
eyes, assented Benson, che was al
ways great on the woman question.
talking about the perfect type, and al
| that sort of bosh. He always was a BIT
| of a dreamer
perhaps. - said maliciously, "tha
may account for his never being see1
now He may have found this type ano
be keeping her to himself. -
"Perhaps," said Benson. However
you go ard see him. You and he use(
to be such terrific pals you may be able
to get more out Of him than we othel
| fellows have been able to do
"Well, I'll go anyway" said.
went down to the temple that yer.
night. My loud knock on the outer doc
Of his chambers brought Wetherby him
/ self to open it It struck me that h
looked half confessed. half annoyed, a
if I had surprised him at a momen
when he was occupied with other mat
tiers and resented intrusion. wondere
whether, after all, the perfect type
theory was right
put my SUSPECT ?slslJie, nov i eS'55aS;
when, 1ecgao,22i1lg me at last III the semi
..js3l liTlty Of the staircase, he seized my
and arc shook it warmly. My dear
ellow," he said, II am delighted to
eo you When did you get back?" He
me with questions as
ollowed inside and pulled q chair up
o the open window facing his OWL.
Tor an hour we sat talking over old ,