The Washington times., 1901-08-04
AW0rthu HiqhWaU1narl


tinction not to be acquired by ordinary
men; ii may be so. but at least / may be
permitted to say that / have gained moth
ing by it either in fortune or position. In
deed as to the former, Heaven has been
kind to me; and as to the latter. a mem
Der of family which proved its four
hundred years of mobility under the ordi-
nance of his late Majesty, King Louis
XVI. needs no furtehr assistance from
human favor. If i appear to complain it
is only because one becomes a little
weary of playing Providence to fools.
1 am connected by marriage with the
noble English family of Trehearne. The
Trehearnes bear no title, but, as every
one should understand, most of the first
blood in England remains content to
know Itself for what it is without any
acknowledgment which a sovereign can
bestow. This is an indication of proper
pride which commands my admiration;
indeed, there is so much in England that
appeals to my regard that L have myself
become as it were. part of the country,
and, though 1 love my own best, l see
less Of it. In the matter of courtesy. L
have no reason TO complain even in un-
happy times when the nations have been
at war 1 am, above all things. candid,
and must set down the truth whatever
comes of it But all this by the way. for
the episode l have set myself to relate
touches only a private matter.
My English home is in southern coun-
try. SO near to London that l can make
the journey in my travelling coach. with
four good horses, in half a day The
Trehearnes live in the west, somewhat in
the manner of little princes. and seldom
come to town. Indeed. why should they?
A small kingdom is more to their mind
than a great city where gold is weighed
against blood.
In the autumn of 1904 received an invi-
tation to attend the wedding of Miss Pris-
ella Trehearne at Polgarth, and, If possi-
bic to come a day or two before the event
In order to renew an acquaintance with
the family which had been interrupted
for some years. remembered Priscilla
when l had last seen her pretty girl just
rising into womanhood; the name of the
bridegroom, Colwyn, i had never heard
before. l accepted the invitation readily,
and did not fail to purchase such a gift
as would do equal credit to myself and
the bride.
1 started two or three days earlier than
was necessary, in order that l might lin
ger by the way and refresh my recollec-
L
ciently admire. My life. I confess it with
out regret, has been idle, as the world
judges; but it has always seemed to me
that TO see and enjoy beauty, to linger
here and there as fancy prompts, to lend
a. helping hand to distress, and to make
less bitter for others the cup of sorrow
which has been withheld from ourself, is
not to waste. but to profit by existence
"a miss aS Nc
the butterfly, and L have yet to learn that
fncofiveniences unnecessarily suffered
lead to heaven.
In this manner l reached Exeter about
the middle of the fifth day, and as there
was still time to spare put up at the prin-
cipal inn, which is under the shadow of
the cathedral, and devoted the remainder
of the light hours to exploring that
charming city. On my return 1 made the
necessary changes in my attire and de-
scehded to the public room, which, when
travelling alone, L always frequent in or
der to escape that evening solitude which
Is SO trying in strange surroundings
Two guests were already in the ROOM one
OF middle age. the other young. As to
the former l reserved my judgment; the
latter had that air of good breeding which
instantly distinguishes a man of birth.
The elder man struck me at first as en-
deaToring TO appear too much at ease, an
indication which watch always with the
utmost care. Excess il, small matters is
more an Indication of character than in
great.
As / made my bow glance passed be-
tween them, and one nodded toward the
table You. sir, L presume. make the
fourth in our party tonight?"
BY seniority of age and arrival here 1
may claim to come first" 1 said These
young men are always possessed with the
very devil of seIf-esteem.
Have it as you will, sir; my friend
meant no offence"
Nor was any taken" said l. 81 sug-
gested the correction merely for your own
satisfaction And, after all, may still
be wrong, for your companion
Here he is" said the person whom, /
did not like.
4 young man entered at the moment
who at once impressed me more favorably
shan the others, in spite of the fact that
he appeared to be laboring under some
excitement which caused a certain jerli-
ness of manner. From his flushed face 1
suspected wine, but behind that there
seemed to be deeper cause; he had the
look of a man who peers ahead through
mist. and now and then catches a glimpse
of sunshine and sure ground In figure
he was rather graceful than strong, his
countenance open, and frankly good-na-
tured; his eyes were more worn,
thought. than his age justified, and his
mouth showed indications of hard living.
But these were small matters to a man of
the world, and did not seriously injure |
my favorable impression. He came up |
Rnd joined the group, which stood, In the |
manner OF Engiishmen, about the empty |
fireplace.
''WeI, George" said one. have you |
siept?"
Enough to make me want more" he |
answered.
''Such rest as that" 1 said, "is worse |
FOR the nerves than wakefulness."
Il believe you, sir. We turn night into |
day, and then find that day knows moth |
Ing about real Sleep
You speak wisdom: why not act upon |
t7''
He shrugged and stretched n hand to- |
ward the cold CRATE; then laughed un- |
easily, and thrust two fingers into the |
pocket of his vest. I'm afraid L can't |
.onight.' he said Il must keep an en- |
yagement with my friend here" He mo- |
ioned toward the older man.
above all things an engagement must |
DC keot."
'Exactly; and not the less because you |
we're a fool to make it,"
Come" said the other, that sleep |
ieems to have put you out of humor |
Nine vii make the blood sing again"
young blood should not need it, 1 |
aid.
Sir. you appear to be a moralist.''
There have been moraIists in our fam