The Banner-Democrat., 1899-09-09
CHAPTER v. )
nONE AGAIN,

1t was late In the afternoon OF dey
toward the close Of May that Brian ap-
preached Elmwood. A telegram, sent
from New York the day before, had an
nounced his coming, and, on alighting
from the train, he found the carriage
awaiting him, and the old coachman he
remembered 80 well beaming smiling
welcome.
Five years had wrought very percept-
lble changes in the aspect OF the cOun-
try. The small town lying within the
shelter OF tho valley, true to its old
progressive spirit, revealed a wonderful
development New and imposing resi-
dences we're to be seen on all sides.
Busy activity was everywhere visible.
and Brian began to imagine himself q
modern Rip Van Winkle, returning to
his homo after long absence.
His homer Alas this was his homo
no longer. For the first time perhaps
the full force Of this idea struck him.
From the carriage window he caught
distant glimpses OF Elmwood, the state
ly old house crowning the brow of the
hill like sentinel guarding the village
below, Its terraced gardens sloping to
the narrow river winding like a silver
thread between its green banks, and
the splendid old forest trees clothed In
the tender foliage of May.
He sighed as he turned from the pic
ture. Ho had never been particularly
fond OF Elmwood in tho old days, the
country under no circumstance Offering
inducements that he found alluring, but
now all was changed. The home he had
looked upon as his had passed into the
hands of another, and the knowledge
raised new longings and new desires In
his heart.
He tried to picture the cousin who
had taken his Inheritance from him, but
bis Imagination could grasp nothing
definite. He wondered if she were tall
or short, dark or light, cold or affable,
and then he fell to framing face in his
mind; and as the intangible shadow
assumed clearer shape it unconscious
iy took on.the form and features of the
Margaret he had left in the fishing town
on Nantucket.
Bother I'll" he cried, gnawing his
mustache with fierceness that argued
inward disturbance. The want OF
money Is the greatest bore under the
sun. Margaret was such dear girl.
This thought came as a natural Sc
quence to the other, and he smiled at
the possibilities it suggested.
Poor Brian had his faults: among
them an overweening love for his own
comfort. and an intense dislike for what
ever could cause him the least incon-
venience. His love for money was rela.
tive, not abstract. Money could buy
pleasure and luxury, therefore he de.
sired It's possession.
He had no ambition for the fame to
Se won by his own endeavor. No de.
nj. - @oIr ,l in "a
world and win his way in the struggle
for prominence. Privation and hard
ship, those prolific mothers of greatness,
we're wanting In his life, and the activ-
ity and industry which Margaret ad-
mired were to him O laborious effort
that no after greatness could compen-
sate.S His education was in part re-
sponsible for these ideas. Selfish and
indolent by nature, he had early been
deprived of his mother and In her per.
son, of the careful training and judicious
dicipline which might have weakened, II
not wholly eradicated, these traits.
His father was lily fitted for the guard
ianship of a quick, impulsive boy, and
the injudicious indulgence OF an old
nurse strengthened the already strong
characteristics. When, as frequently
happened, Brian grew unmanageable,
his father was appealed to, and his se-
verify on such occasions had far from
the desired effect.
, Such O course Of training had prac-
tical effect on Brian's after life. When
he left college, he studied medicine, in
accordance with his fathers wishes, and
during the progress Of his studies, pro-
ceeded to SOW his wild oats with such
unusual vim that frequent quarrels be-
tween himself and father became the
rule.
!, These terminated In enc more bitter
than all the rest, which resulted in
Brians departing for Europe, and his
father threatening to discontinue his al
lowance. A very direful threat, that
ended, as Brian expected, in nothing
more than words.
Brian had been travelling several
months when Margaret's father died and
she took up her residence at Elmwood.
Once there, she soon won her way to
her uncle's heart, and the old gentleman
formed the project of a marriage be-
tween her and his son. He died without
realizing his hope, and for reasons
which he did not disclose, he left all his
property to Margaret, and cut Brian of
with an income of $4,000. Now. after
five years absence, the disinherited son
was experiencing the novel sensation oi
entering his old home visitor.
The friendly, familiar air OF every.
thing about him, made his sense OF loss
more keen; and when old Stephens, who
had known him as boy, met him at the
door with eyes suspicously moist, and
q face full Of emotion, he found himself
so overcome that he could do nothing
more than grasp the toil-worn hand OF
the faithful old servant, and shake II
with impulsive affection.
Poor Stephens." he said to himseif:
when left alone to his reflections.
Irmly believe the faithful fellow had
tears in his eyes. Never thought Ia
be so low in the scales that the feel.
iug of an old servant would touch mo
30. wonder if my beloved cousin
realizes what she has taken from me.
More than mere money. Yes, thou
sand times more. She has taken my
hsppiness. And Margaret-with all
This / could have married her. She
liked me, feel sure. Her every action
told me as much. Dear girl! how happy
/ should be 10 make her mistress here.
Well, there is certainly no use signing
over the inevitable"
This was philos oehieal conclusion;