The Democratic advocate., 1897-12-18


that he has lately become engaged to the
dearest girl in the world having @ooJ
deal to do with this protracted converse
ton. Three o clock has struck aad The
distant sounds of merriment that reached
them from the billiard-room have long
since died into nothn4ness, when al length
Dick DugdaIe, rising from his chair, de
clares with Il yawm that sleep has mastered
him.
He is Il tall, lean, soldierly young man
OF about twenty nine, with slngularly
handsome face, and skin Drowned by
India suns. He has. indeed, only just
returned from the East--a good deal the
slighter for his sojourn there-and being
heart and next heir to a baronetcy
has been during the past week the subject
of some speculation amongst the women
assembled at Travcrs Court.
''You won lose your way, will you?
says Oswald. as he bids him good night
ON coming to landing when their roads
separate You know the house too well
| for that
Il should. says Dagdale laughing
This house has been my home ton often
TO let few years destroy all memory "i
| it.
He gees softly down the corridor that
leads to his room. calling out last sub
dued good light and walking delicately rs
Aeag might. lest he should disturb the
| slumberers on either hand. \ vague srIs-
pici0n that perhaps after all he doesn
known his own room as well as he had be,
lieved rOuseS Il mingled sense Of consterna-
| ton and amusement in his mind, so that
when he comes to his door he opens il
cautiously and not without Il certain sense
Of trepidation.
All right, however The large cham
Der presents itself to him in colors blue as
the sky; the fire still burns as cheerily
upon the hearth as it did three hours ago
Capital servants the Travers always have
kept. by the way; unless, indeed, the
present glowing furnace is to be attributed
to the zeal of his sleeping partner in this
room. BY the way what sort is he?
Flinging the coat he has just taken off
upon chair near him, he turns his gaze
upon the bed at the tartheSt end Of the
room-the bed in the corner; the bed APP
propriated to the stead Y, quiet, respecta-
bic nineteen vear-old lad. warranted not 10
bite, Of whom Oswald had spoken in such
glowing terms, to find it-empty. Me-
chanically he directs his attention upon
the bed proper to find it-full
Why. contound that Ormsby boy
Was there ever such impertinence-such
sybaritish selfshness His heart. how
ever, melts within him as he gazes upon
what there is to be seen of this model Of
iniquity. What small head ! with what
wealth Of curling hair \ mere boy it
must be, in sore want Of barber
\ timid boy, too; evidently afraid Of
ghosts or such-like midnight visitationS,
as he has tucked the clothes RIGHT around
his neck and almost over his head. \ mere
child he must be, with brows as white as
that, and with breathing so soft, so noise
less. that one night well believe him dead.
Dead Dugdale had heard of corpSeS
being discovered in double -bedded rooms
before this-it is, indeed quite an ortho-
dox good old Story-but to have it come
home to him in this abrupt way is not half
so pleasant as the mild imagining OF it,
TO read Of tragedy is one thing; to be
mixed up with it is quite another.
Taking up the candle he advances
quickly towards the bed, and looks down
upon the owner Of those short brown curls.
Great Heaven? what is this? BY Il
miracle alone Dugdale prevents the can
dlestick from falling with crash to the
floor; by miracle, too, he represses the
exclamation that rises to his lips. The
steady respectable Ormsby boy, war
ranted not to bite has resolved himself
mto--a glrl
And such 4 lovely girl too The lit
tie, pretty, soft, dishevelled curls, brown
as hazelnuts, are lying on forehead white
as Pmian marble. The rounded cheeks
are flushed with sleeps fond heat, the
long dark lashes lying ON them, making a
tender contrast with the crimson ground
beneath; the lips, red as cherries ripe, are
softly, indolently closed. 1t occurs to him
that they might open at any moment, and
then
Well then not the lips, but the eyes
open Large dark eyes, heavy with slum-
Der scarcely broken, and for an instant
they gaze straight up at him, vaguely
troubled-soflly uncertain Up to this
point Dugdale has been rooted to the spot
10 say that he is filled with aulazement
would be but to give poor explanation Of
his feeling; thai he is frightened to death
would be far nearer to it, Now. seeing
those half conscious eyes on him. he gives
way altogether.
Hastily extinguishin@ the tell tale can
die. he makes dash for the coat. and
then for the door and rushes blindly
down the now dark corridor. Towards
the end, seeing a light cleaning from one
of the apartments, he makes for it i'll des-
peration. and-yes-- thank Heaven. there
are two beds here also, the room is dis
tinctly blue-he must have found his
haven at last
Sinking into chair he presses his hand
to his forehead and listens with all his
might. VIII she scream rouse the house?
Has she mistaken him for burglar?
Or-bessed hope has she been so little
awakened that his rapid exit may have left
her under the impression that all she saw
was but the outcome Of a dream?
Somewhat relieved by this thought, he
prepares once more for bed. This time,
at all events. he has made no mistake,
the loud and healthy snores that come
from the couch in the corner preclude the
the smallest possibility of doubt. All then
may yet be we'll That one hasty glance
of hers could have told her nothing, and
there is no other clue Placing his fingers
in his waistcoat- pocket to take out his
watch, he at once grows rigid with con-
sternation and a look Of horror overspreads
I l. ~. =