The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1901-09-01


Two whole Julys and the greater part
of another had gone since Walter Alleyne
had spent his holiday in sleepy town of
red roofs and historical memories. He
had been married a year. Twelve months
of work, success and prosperity had passed
by, leaving the lines shade deeper in
his face, and quenching yet little more
his zest for the reception of futile civilities
and aimless Inequalities which his wife
appeared to appreciate as much as ever
They were sitting at the breakfast table,
he and she-Alleyne was looking through
the Times, and his wife was rereading her
notes and cards of invitation.
L must say, Walter, it was rather cool
of the Moyle-Mudfords to ask us to such
a dinner as that one last night
WAS it? 1 didn't see much wrong with
it. The quails were unusually fat, L re-
member"
My dear old boy! Remember the two
men L sat by! That perfectly impossible
Mr.. Sopwith, for one! But both were as
sommant!'
Walter Alleyne glanced at the first sheet
of the paper and his hand shook suddenly
The name Van Ryn" had caught his eve
In the list of marriages, the public were
informed that the 18th of July William
Van Ryn, jr., of st. Mildreds House
had taken to wife Janey. the only daughter
OF the late John Cunliffe, Esq. Mr.. AL
leyne angrily crumpled up the sheet in his
thin, nervous hands. He experienced a feel
ing Of intense dislike towards that BRIDE
groom, with his coarse good looks, his va
cant, prominent eyes. And meanwhile the
cheerful flow of his wifes chatter went on.
walter, dearest, you look very tired!
shall be thankful when that odious case
is over. L wish you might get back little
earlier this evening? You won't enjoy the
opera a bit otherwisel And both Monsieur
Jean and Edouard are singing to-night!'
All it was on this very same day in July
that he had once on a time attended a
concert in a hot town hall, and what a
weary age ago it seemed!
LET US forget we loved each other
much!" How fresh her voice was, such
a child-lilIe, glad voice! MIR. Alleyne looked
across at his wife. Her dress of lilac cam
brio was ideal combination of smart
ness and simplicity. The butler had for
gotten to pull down the blinds as low as he
usually did at breakfast. Walter could not
help observing that there were a good
many gray hairs under the fair curls on
her head. Her skin looked withered in
this unfattering white light.
He rose and walked slowly towards the
door.
Il think I shall start early and walk
down the embankment this morning." said
he.
20 1 daresay the air will freshen you
up. And, Walter, the Duchess has asked
US to her music! 1 expect it will be very
small! How sweet of her, isn't it?''
He nodded kindly, and went out into the
street, with a curious smile on his face
but he did not look really amused. AS he
strolled along the riverside he thought of
other July breezes, hot and fragrant
bringing scents of lime-blossoms and
mignonette from behind a wall. OF long
grass, full of butterflies with blue and
white and painted wings-of larks singing.
Which is really life-life at its truest and
best, he asked himself? Which are the
DAYS to sigh and TO weep for? Those
spent in this restless fever of living, where
the aims are greater, the prizes glitter,
and the crowd applauds; or the rarer ones
in which man draws very near to the
warm heart Of Nature, when the wild flow
ers and birds and the whispering streams
are his friends-when, if the pleasures are
simpler, the aches are perhaps less poign-
| ant, where love itself is something less
complex. less full of smarting, aimless re-
gret? But throughout his walk he could
| find no satisfactory answer to the Ques-
| ton.