Santa Fe new Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1898-1951, 1899-03-31
DAYS OF YOUTH.

wv 1890 49, p-S HAhS Ia ~ ~
park and a fair sprinkling of loungers on
the green chairs under the trees. 1t was q
glorious evening. The sun was near set
ting, and the breeze had risen and was
rustling the leaves overhead, where the
sparrows were quarreling over their sleep
ing accommodation.
st. Glare Carew seated himself, took
out his cigarettes and settled to a peaceful
smoke. He had not been long seated
before he saw a lady making her way
slowly along the path toward him. She
was stout and elderly, with a serene ex-
preston Of countenance as of one at peace
with herself and all the world. st. Glare
Cnrew started when he saw her, and his
glasses fell off, a trick they often played
him when he was surprised or at all
moved. He hurriedly set them on his
nose again and looked at the lady, who
was now coming close to him. Yes, sure
ly he could not be mistaken, it was-yes,
he was certain it was Daisy Stentonl But
how alteredi
He rose hastily and stood %hesitating.
How was he to address herr He could
not remember the name of the fellow she
married, and he really could not speak to
this portly dame as "Daisy." 1t seemed
homogeneous,
II beg your pardon" he said, bowling
and stammering as she came up to him.
DO you remember mes"
She stopped short and looked. at him
curlously. "Why, of course l dol" she
cried in q cheerful voice. ''of course l dol
You are-you are''-
'St. Glare Carew, and you were Daisy
Stenton, and"-
Now l am Mrs. Hickman. Well, what
u funny thing to meet you herel But l
um glad! Dear, how it brings back the
old timesi Come and sit down and let us
talk, One does not meet an old friend ey-
cry day in the week" She led the way to
ONE chairs as she spoke.
He followed her. Mrs. Hickmanl So
she had married that fellow, had she2 And
he played nervously with his glasses as he
seated himself with that careful stiffness
which comes to a man who is getting on
in life. Well, perhaps on the whole it
was a good thing he had not married her
himself. 1t was just a chance he had not
He would have hated a stout wife.
And Hickman" he hazarded.
''Oh, he is wonderfully we'll, thank you,
and SO bright and cheerful for a man of
his agel'
st. Glare shuddered. He was older than
Hickman, he remembered.
Now" said the lady, settling herself
in her chair, ''tell me all about yourself.
AN about myself, she answered, cross
ing his legs carefully; "about MYSELF
Well, Pm much the same, except that I
am older"
She laughed comfortably. care you
married."
mo. I live with my sister" For some
unknown reason it irritated him to make
the confession.
"Oh, that is very nice for youP' said
Mrs. Hickman oheerfully.
But you cannot have been much in
London all these years. u he said, passing
over her remark. II should have seen
you else.
"Oh, no, indeedi Would you believe it,
Mr.. Carew, I haven't been in London for
nearly 80 years" And. she looked at him
impressively. "Thirty years; fancy thati
We have been living near Torquay all that
time. By the way, there Is some one else
living at T~orquay-some n you used to
know very week.-Mrs.. Pennington she Is
now; Clara White that was, you know"
CLARA White? l do not remember hear
ing of her marriage"
Don't your Oh, she married very well
indeed and has a lovely house not far
from Torquay. The second boy has just
passed out of Sandhurst. Such a fine
young mani"
St. Glare played with his glasses again,
'Indeedl Is-has she altered muoh2"
Very little; she still looks wonderfully
young. But you do not ask me about my
self"
"Oh, l beg pardon, but" with a touch
of his old gallantry, sit is scarcely neces-
sary to ask if you are well and happy; you
look both"
She laughed a fat little laugh of abso'
lutte contentment. "Yes, Indeed, my lines
have fallen in pleasant places. My hus-
band is a dear old man, my son is doing
we'll, and my eldest daughter has married
and has two Of the sweetest little children
you ever saw. Yes, life has gone well with
me"
st. Glare Carew felt as though he had
suddenly become old and shriveled. Chill
drenI Grandchildren He might have
had them himself. He might have mar
ried this woman, and then she would have
called him her dear old man" Well
He looked at her, fat and comfortable I'M
der a scarlet sunshade, and wondered how
1t would have answered.
$50 I should judgh' he said in answer
to her remark. Then, hastily changing
the subject, he added: 81 saw in The
Times the other day that Sanford had
been killed on the frontier. Did you know
himp"
"Yes, quite we'll. Poor mani ! remem-
Der his telling ME that to die In battle was
one Of the chief rewards Of a soldier. OF
course that was just after he got his com
mission. Well, he had his wish, for he
died at the head Of his troop"
st. Glare moved uneasily. "Was he mar.
riedp"
mo, but he was awfully good to his
sister. She will miss him, poor thing.
and they say his men adored HIM"
There was a pause after this, then Mrs.
Hickman exclaimed: "Well, it is nice to
see you again. So you are living quietly
with your sister,"
Yes"
She looked at him with a certain amount
of curiosity. dear me. it seems odd
somehow !"
I'VE are very comfortable" he said