The Appeal. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn. ;) 1889-19??, 1900-06-09


stacles; his practice in overcoming then
came to his aid now. First he must &c
somewhere and think. His club? No
there he would find men whom he knew
His fiat in Ashley Gardense Yes HI
would be alone there Much to thinr
about and much to do before he left
Charing Cross that evening. He would,
as the Harley street man advised him,
keep his own company; there was no one
in the world with whom he would care to
| share the secret He feared that if he
were to tell some men of his acquaintance
| they would have difficulty in repressius
signs of satisfaction.
| wish now" he said desolately, "that
had made one or Two friends"
familiar tap on the shoulder from a
walking stick made him start
| ME dear boy,' said Miss Tearle's
| father, what on earth d'you mean by
loafing about Bond street at this hour of
the day? 1 thought you were always ur
| to your eyes in business. You're taking
a day off, maybe?'
Yes" he said shortly.
| I'm right, then!' exclaimed Miss
Tearle's father with surprise 1t was, in
fact, not often that he was correct.
what wonderful perception on my part
was telling me daughter only last night
that l retained all me powers of insight.
Tut, tell me now, is there anything &C.
| ing that you can recommend to me for an
Investments
My dear Tearle," said Maybury with
lmpatlence, don't bother me. Besides,
You know very we'll that you nave nc
money to inve,t''
Il am free to confess acknowleds : I'd
Miss Tearle's father, that for the mo-
ment I had overlooked that fact. Is
tEere any message for lie deI" Margaret,
How that girl adores you, me dear Nav.
tury''
Are you sure that that is sop
| Well' said the other, hedging, "she
azores You as much as can be expected
| Uncer the circumstances I'll be nlain
with you, Maybury. She's never quite
| forgotten her young cousin who died out
in West Africa and that's the truth.
But after ALL he went on indulgently,
mats nothing. 1t will all pass off.
You're man of the world, Maybury."
| ''Temporarily.''
Ah!' said Miss Teares father. ''We'u
| none of us live forever, unfortunately
And that reminds me. Have you such a
| thing as a fiVe-pound note, me boy, about
you that you could conveniently spare
for twenty-four hours? I'm infinitely
obliged to you.''
.1Tear1el'' -E q 49, b., FL =
"sir?' said the grateful old gentleman.
| with reference to Margaret" Maybury
| hesitated for moment. The march of
| four young women across the pavement
from a brougham to a shop separated
| them for a few moments. IT want to
ask you something. DO you think that
| she would be sorry Tiff anything serious
| were to happen to me?"
| Me boy! You're not the kind of a
man that anything serious happens to-
| You're too knowing for that
| Il want an answer to my question:"
'Maybury," said Mr.. Tearle, placing the
note carefully in his pocketbook as
though to hint that it would be disbursed
with great caution, 'I'll tell you the
truth Time was when she became en-
gagged to you at my particular request
and there was no great affection on her
side. But I'm speaking the honest truth
when tell you that she is now positively
fond of you
I "Ah!"
ITO be brutally frank laughed the old
gentleman, ''let me tell you that you have
some good qualities below the surface,
| but that it takes time to find them. Fol
my part, consider myself deeply indebt-
ed to YOU
II suppose you are said Maybury
| "Good-bye."
| II hate the word goodbye said the
ELUSIVE old Irishman. LET us borrow
| say au revoir."
| "Good-bye," repeated the other steadily
| 1t was a great relief to him when the
lift had taken him up to his floor in Ash
ley Gardens and he was able to lock the
diningroom door upon himself. The two
matronly servants did not hear him ar
rive. and they went on in high-pitched
tones with a quarrel which was not really
a quarrel, but kind of sham debate
probably started to chase monotony. The
elder Of the two had been servant with
his parents; her voice made him think OF
his mother. One of Maybury's best traits
| and one that he never revealed to the
! world was his affection for the memory
of his mother; for the first time since he1
death he thought of the possibility OF
| meeting her again. ...
| But she was a good woman he said.
Was it too late to make some PREPARATION
|
clock on the mantlepiece struck the hour
! and reminded him there were no mo-
ments to waste. He went to the desk
| in the coner-there was a writing desk in
every room in the f1at-and unlocked the
stationery stand He opened his check
book and laid it on the ledge, and for
half an hour he wrote swiftly several let
| tiers. It was not possible to make amends
| to all the people to whom he had acted
| unfairly, but there were some who, by
| reason of their association with him
were now in distressed circumstances. To
| these he wrote letters which had for COM
| pany a check. IS.
'There seems he said thoughtfully,
after the half-hour's work, 6 a good deal
to clear up"
! To Margaret Tearle he wrote long, af-
fectionate letter, the composition of which
| cost him some trouble; when he had fin
| ished he thought for a moment and then
! tore it into many pieces, because he felt
| that it would give pain. He substituted
! friendly little note simply announcing
| his departure. Maybury had never made
| his will because it had always seemed an
! absurdiy premature thing to do. Now
| he took a sheet of paper and thought.
The elder servant, answering the ring,
| appeared in the diningroom. Her mas
| ter was reading over the sheet of paper
which he had written out, and he did not
I speak to her at once.
1 Didn't know you were in, sir. Letters
| to post, sir? TIL send them down by the
| lift boy at once. Would you like dinner a
| little earlier?'''
Pack my bag, Martha, please. I'm go
! ing away to.the south of France
| BE away long, sir?'' inquired the mid
dle-aged servant. 4. Scuse my asking
Gontinxea On xna Fxra