Middletown transcript., 1904-07-23

C out of his pocket, read IL
tN through slowly, threw
no himself back in his leather
N armchair, pulled hard at
his pipe, gazed at the cell
ing through the smoke, and then reper-
used the letter. AS it was short note,
and he had read it before at least twenty
times, he might have been supposed to
know it by heart. But be read it for a
third time before he folded it carefully
and returned it to his waistcoat pocket.
The note ran thus:
Beacon Street, Boston.
Dear John Mother and are going to
New York, Wednesday, for few days
shopping. We shall put up at the Hol-
land House. Please come "Wednesday
evening and take me somewhere-hotel
reception-rooms are such impossible
places to receive ones friends in. Until
Wednesday then.
EUNICE GARDNER.
This was Tuesday evening. Brockton
drew ont bis pocket-book andstold over
its contents mechanically, as he knew the
sum we'll enough. There was two-dol'
lar bill and three ones. He plunged into
his trousers pocket and drew out seventy
five cents in small change. Then he rum
mayed in his bureau drawer and found
little heap of pawn tickets and his dress
shirt studs. He looked at these last
doubtfully and threw them back--he
couldn't take her to the theater without
his shirt studs. He felt automatically
for his watch and remembered that he
had pawned it before to pay his board
bill. Five dollars and seventy-five cents
he should have to manage breakfast
lunch, and dinner on seventy-fye cents
That would leave four dollars for theil
theater tickets and one dollar for possible
extras. Having settled there practica
detail, he gave himself up to tobacco
smoke and musing.
Her note had not announced her en-
gagement to some other man and he was
to see her in less than twenty-four hours
so much to the good. On the othel
hand, in all the seven years of what she
called their "friendship'-"Friendshipn
he muttered f"Good Lord r'-his own
chances had never seemed quite so hope,
less. If a man were ever going to sue
ceed, he ought to have>begun at thirty
and here he was at thirty with collec-
tisn of pawn tickets, five dollars and sew
enty-fve cents, and no prospects. He
thought of the Gamers house on Beacon
Street, and their place on the North Shore
and of her habit of going abroad when
ever the wlim seized her-and he laugh
ed to himself grimly.
What a backward donkey he had al
ways been He was tWenty.three when
he graduated from Harvard-the same
year he had met Eunice Garner, and after
spending month with his chum at Bev-
erly, near the Gamers place, had made
up his mind that lie would marry her, or
nobody. He wondered lazily why she
had seemed to like him from the start,
when he was burned a lobster red that
made his hair look like tow, and his blne
eyes Of pale and sickly cast. He didn't
consider his looks much to boast OF at the
best, but in summer he was fright. 1t
was part Of his general luck, he supposed,
scowling through the smoke, that sum-
mer was the time he saw most of her.
His luck He thought Of his ''fyers"
in the market, of how often his margin
had been wiped out, and of this last deal,
made on what he considered sure tip.
Why hadn't he stuck to his plodding and
his salary, even though the sum he had
fixed as the least on which he could ask
her. to marry him was SO long coming
Oh, it made him sick to think of it all
and he rose from his chair and stretched
himself with yawn. As he did SO the
mirror opposite showed him his six feet
of Drawn and muscle and he surveyed it
with gloomy contempt. "Aluch good it
does me-" he muttered. cts brains that
count nowadays, and precious little I've
got Of those, as the Lord who withheld
them from me knows
He went to the Holland House the
next evening as early as lie decently could
and, after sending up his card, waited in
tense expectancy. He wondered if Eunice
had changed in the eight months since
she had waved him good-by from the
deck of the "Kaiser Wilhelm" Itwould
be like her to change, he reflected para
doxically. Her many-sidedness had
never ceased to puzzle him. In which
mood should he find her tonight? Would
she wear what he called her "society
manner"-the easy poise that made him
feel far-off lonely-or would she be the
impulsive Eunice, given to hasty action
and quick repentance She never seemed
SO wholly lovable to him as when she
was sorry for something she had DONE
Or had this separation-the longest since
they had known each other-developed
in her some new phase? Well, whatever
she might be, his duty stood out clear
he had no right to let her know how he
felt, and he was determined to keep a
tight rein, on himslf.
When at last she came, the sight OF her
sunk him into a moment OF dull depres-
sion-standing there in the doorway un-
til she should see him. she looked SO dis
tinctly the woman of the world Perhaps
his own poverty made him exaggerate
the richness Of her furs and velvet gown
and plumed hat-he did not stop to con-
slider that the same closes on another
woman would fail to produce that effect
of distinction. Then she caught sight OF
him, her eyes lighted, and she came for
ward impulsively with both hands out
stretched; there was something childlike
in her self-forgetfuluess. "Well, john
ME ~ she said. "Well, Eunice ?" lie re-
piled; and they stood with clasped hands.
He couldn't speak. The longing to take
bar -, k;c arp,o ~ ,n.Lo Lar IL, h., f,.oo