The Globe-republican., 1903-11-12

Once 1t happened Eunice's mother
accompanied her to the British MI
scum. AS they were descending the
stairway from the galleries, was
passing through the hall. Eunice in
PRODUCED me to her mother, and we re-
manned in conversation for the best
part Of an hour, when Mrs. Firth sud
denly remembered her doctors instruc.
tons not to TRY herself too much"
and pronounced for home. 10 her
alarm, on our arrival at the vestibule
Of the Museum, 1t was raining smart
~. Once again luck favored me. My
umbrella, property which nine days
out of ten l left at home, proved a
ready friend for once. Under Its shell
ter Mrs Firth reached her bus in
comparative dryness. I offered 1t to
her. "Oh, no, Mr.. Athelstane, I won't
deprive you," she said.
But my inslstence carried the day,
and suggested that Eunice might find
it useful in the morning. That young
lady, however, declared she "had one
Of her own"
Mrs. Firth settled the question by
saying;
" will take 1t, Mr.. Athelstane, on
condition that you will bring Eunice
home this evening, and join us at our
little tea dinner, and then, you see,
you can take possession Of your UNI
brella." To this consented
After leaving Eunice and her mother
I returned to the reading room, in
tending to put in an hour or two Of
work, but in this / was frustrated by
the receipt Of a telegram, which an
nounced the serious illness Of my
father and desired my early attendance
at his side.
Here was a call that brooked no in
attention. | showed the wire to Eunice
and begged her to express to her
mother my regrets, and bidding her
what was intended to be an impressive
"Good-by," left.for my home at Wells,
in Norfolk.
Little did think that two long years
would elapse before I again set eyes
on Eunice Firth.
was away in Norfolk for some
three months, my fathers condition
varying to such an extent, owing to
frequent relapses, as left me no alter
native but to stay with him. l was his
second son, my brother Christopher
being two years my senior; our mother
had been dead many years.
My father had been dead some six
weeks, during which period had been
busying myself in the administration
of his little estate and winding up my
enforced rest from pedigree hunting
and other such trides, when the great
change in my life began. The African
mail brought me a letter from my
brother Christopher, or rather from
friend Of his, acting as amanuensls.
Christopher had met with very seri-
Gus accident in the mine. Most Of his
ribs had been broken, and the doe
tors feared that much internal lacera-
ton had also taken place. Chris was
anxious to see me, fearing a fatal
ending. Would l come at once to
Kimberley He had also enclosed n
draft for $500 to cover travelling ex-
penses and in case the world had not
used me kindly. W
To pack up my traps was but short
work, and the old home l left in charge
Of a maiden aunt.
After l had booked my passage I had
a few hours to spare. These l spent
In vain search for Eunlce Firth. !
could hear no tidings at the house
where they had lived, The landlady
only knew they had left-gone, she
thought, into "unfurnished" rooms.
did not feel easy on the matter,
but hoped for the best, and made my
way to a hotel near Waterloo whence
| had to start the next morning on
my first venture beyond the white
cliffs Of old England.
| The Castle liner on which had taken
my passage did her voyage well and
rapidly, The succeeding day to that
on which l landed in Cape Town saw
me being transferred, as rapidly as a
South African railway can manage It,
northward, I arrived too late. Poor
Chris had gone to the bourne whence
none return.
His lawyer met me soon after my
arrival, condoled with me, and eulo.
gized poor Chris's many virtues. He
said that my brother had been q most
successful man up to a certain point,
But lately owing to--to--e r-scruples,
he had been placed at a dlsadyan-
tage Still, he remarked:
"still, Mr.. Athelstane, your brother
died pretty warm, His personality,
| should say-wel, let me see-er, well
lis quite S350,OOO."
! explained that my brother had
never confded either TO his father or
myself the degrees Of success which
he had attained.