The Democratic advocate., 1897-12-18

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them from the billiard-room have long
since died into nothingness, when at length
Dick Dugdale. rising from his chair, de
clares with vawm that Sleep has mastered
him.
He is tall, lean, soldierly young man
of about twenty nine, with a singularly
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 whole 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 goodnight
on coming to landing when their roads
separate. You know the house too we'll
| for that
Il should. says Dugdale, laughing
This house has been my home ton often
TO let few years destroy all memory Of
| it.
He goes softly down the corridor that
leads to his room. calling ont a last sub
dued goodnight and walking delicatel as
| Aeag might. lest he should disturb the
| slumberers on either hand. \ vague srIs-
picion 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 III 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 of
upon a chair near him, he turns his gaze
upon the bed at the farthest end of the
room-the bed in the corner; the bed ap-
propriated to the steady, quiet, resPecta-
BILE nineteen-year old lad, warranted not tc
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-fuli
Why. confound that Ormsby boy
Was there ever such impertinence-such
sybaritish selfishness His heart. how
ever. melts within him as he gazes upon
what there is to be seen of this model OF
iniquity. What a 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 yisitations,
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 might well believe him dead
Dead ! Dugdale had heard Of corpse>
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 a 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 i
miracle alone Dugdale prevents the can
dlestick from falling with crash to the
floor; by a miracle, too, he represses the
exclamation that rises to his lips. The
steady, respectable Ormsby boy, war
ranted not to bite has resolved himself
into-a girl
And such lovely girl. too The lit
tie, pretty, soft, dishevelled curls, brown
as hazelnuts, are lying on forehead white
as Parian marble The rounded cheeks
are flushed with sleeps fond heat the
long dark lashes lying on them, making Il
tender contrast with the crimson ground
beneath: the lips, red as cherries ripe, are
softly, indolently closed. Ii 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 strai ghl up at him, vaguely
troubled-soflly uncertain. Up to this
point DugCale has been rooted to the spot
10 say that he is filled with auazement
would be but to give a poor explanation OF
his feeling; that he is frightened to death
would be far nearer to it, Now. seeing
those half-consci0us eyes on him. he gives
way altogether.
Hastily extinguishing the tell-tale can
die. he makes a dash for the coat and
then for the door. and rushes blindly
down the now dark corridor Towards
the end, seeing light cleaning from one
of the apartments, he makes for II III des-
peration. and-yes--th Heaven. there
are two beds here also, the room is dis
tinctly blue-he must have found his
haven at last.
Sinking into IA chair, he presses his hand
to his forehead and listens with all his
might. Will she scream rouse the house?
Has she mistaken him for burg lar
Or-blessed 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 Il 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 look Of horror overspreads
his face His watch He has left it
behind him 1t is probably at this mo-
ment ticking away-with quite disgrace
full Indifference to its owner agony-upon
her table Alas, for that dream theory
of his Dreams come and go, but leave