The Portland daily press., 1897-12-27
(Chapter VII. continued

tGlaDleT VII. cOnUlnueu. ]
He gained the garden gate of Dunbar
House, thrust it moodily open with his
stick. and passed through into the
grounds. A small empty dog-oart stood
opposite to the front door, but he scarcely
glanced at the little vehicle as he went
up the steps and entered the hall. Whilst
he WAS hanging up his hat. Mr.. Hartree,
nolding a pen in his hand came out OF
The library, and said to him:
"Oh, Rawlings, there is a lady here
who has called to see you. My vile is
with her in the drawing-room. Will you
go to them? She may have something of
the utmost Importance to tell you about
yourself. l am busy just now, but shall
have finished almost directly, and then
will join you.
AZ will go at once" said Rawlings;
and with sudden, feverish anxiety he
ran hastily upstairs and went into the
drawing-room.
The girl with whom Mrs. Hartree was
conversing sat with her back to the door,
but on hearing footsteps she TUNED her
head; her eyes met those of Rnwlings's.
and abe gazed at him for a moment with
a wild, transtixed stare, then cried out:
"Oh, Cecil, Cecil!" and ran toward
him with her arms outstretched.
The young fellow stood motionless as
statue whilst she came toward him, view
lHR u6T WlGu u lUOA I'll c&CobSlf6 ibbUulsu-
ment; for an aocost of this nature, then
wholly unexpected, is calculated to dis
turb the composure of the most self pos
sessed individual. She came abruptly to
a stand when within about yard OF
him, still keeping her arms spread apart
as though about to embrace him, and
preserving her wild transnxed stare,
which gradually relaxed into an expires,
sion of deep CONSERVATION, that rounded
her beautiful blue eyes and arched her
delicately pencilled brow.
"What!'' cried she. "Cecil, don's you
know me?''
He passed his hand over his brow with
fierce, impatient gesture, as though be
would sweep away the pall-like curtain
which veiled his memory, and then slow
ly answered, whilst his brow assumed q
very scowl of endeavor to recall
II have seen you before. am sure
l know your face. You are-you ale-
who are youf''
"Who am I?'' asked the poor girl with
piteous look of dismay. Cecil, is it
really possible that you do not know mes
as not to recolleot me, Clara Lambert
your Clara, Cecil, whom you have come
out to claim?''
"Clara Lambertl' he muttered, then
added aloud, 81 seem to have heard that
name often-very often. And although
cannot remember you, feel sure that
know you very well. You call me
Cecil, and say that was coming Quito
claim you; perhaps then you will tell
me who I amp
"Tell you who you are," said the be-
wildered girl, turning with a hopelessly
puzzled expression towards Mrs. Hnr-
tree, who sat quietly listening. with a
look of mute appeal, as though she
would ask what was the meaning of this
iDorQdi hll condition Of
II do not think, Miss Lambert said
this lady who as dispassionate observer
was able to preceive the extraordinary
complications and Misunderstanding
likely to arise unlessf some explanation
was made at the outset "that you exactly
realize the full extent of Mr.. Rawlings's
unfortunate position. You must bear in
mind that hethas totally lost his memory
even to the length as you may see of
being unable to recall an old friend. In
deed he Is actually in ignorance of his
real name"
"His name is Cecil Rawdon and not
Rawlings" said the girl. ooh Cecil,
Cecil, - she cried her voice growing on a
sudden tremulous with a rush OF emo
tion, "surely you can't have forgotten
me!''
She pressed her hand somewhat convul-
sively to her sides and sank into chair.
At this moment Mr.. Hartree came into
the room to learn whether the lady visitor
had recognized the young man staying
In his house and could give any informa-
ton concerning his identity.
'"Wellr' said he enquiringly gazing
from one to another of the little group.
Miss Lambert recognizes in Mr.. Raw
llngs-Rawdon mean for that she tells
us is his real name-an old friend,' said
his wife.
sand do you on your side remember
fGo ,I<0-A
turning to the.young fellow.
81 seem to know her face as well as l
know the reflection of my own; her
| name ia perfectly familiar to me and yet
+" he broke off short as he met the look,
Of dismay which the girl fixed upon
him.
"a little PATIENCE said the kind
Clara Lambert. "You see, Rawlings-
or Rawdon, as suppose we must hence
| forth call you-when man has been
! suffering from blindness of mental vision
for many weeks, as you now have, he
must expect to be bewildered and con-
fused when he meets with people he
knew, and hears of things that happened
before he lost his memory. 1t is like
suddenly opening ones eyes out of deep
sleep upon the brilliant sunshine of the
morning; the sight is dazed by the light
and can comprehend nothing it sees
until the eyes have grown accustomed to
the brightness. So with your mind; you
| must expect the first glimmering of the
memory to leave your brain still dark
until the clouds shall be dispelled by the
warmth of returning Intelligence -
Now Mr.. Hartree had one great failing
and that was notion of his eloquence.
He would sit and postulate in dreary
platitudes upon whatever subject came
under discussion, and in a voice that had
a tendency to become mellifuous
though complacency as ne went on. be
would state his views with measured
rhythm of location that foweth steadily
| on through all Interruptions, and speed
lily grew painful to the listener from his
| unvarying monotonv. But SO large
hearted and thoroughly kind man was
| not to be voted q bore because of tire
| some idiosyncrasy, and go his friends
| accepted him on the tactit understand
ing that he should be permitted to ex-
patiate in redundant oratory whilst they
sat with composed faces and listened.
perhaps, suggested Mrs. Hartree,
"if Miss Lambert would talk to Mr.
4 II L z-11E -