The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1904-07-02

CALLED UNCLE
aloud. l had often known him to do
this when he thought himself alone
SHOULD feel this he cried. SHOULD
l see it for the crime that it is if did
not love her."
| knew well enough what he was
thinking about A perfect echo of that
agonized question rang in my own
mind. I saw the crime, as he saw it,
and loved far deeper than he did, for
he had not my strength.
Picture a girl of eighteen who Is the
sum of all holy and beautiful promises
like some pUrc flower in the morning
Picture man past fifty, tiorid. smil-
ing, self contcntcd. successful human
animal, man so entirely common that
he has not even Il pet vice to make him.
self distinctive. :; man who has won
many things in tho world and will take
this girl in til" same way as his due
for the effort expended in the matter
Fancy that Sh" will give herself for
gratitude heCa'~c the man has been
kind to her. because he has fed and
clothed her since she was child. hav-
ing been tn" friend of her father, who
died poor and without kin.
Ormond hcgHn to walk up and down
before the winduw. and, thinking that
he would Sc" me ! passed on to the
head Of the stairs and so to the draw
ing room, where Gladys was playing
on the piano.
I'm n lorpn ,hair 1af
whom we all called uncle, though he
bore that relationship to none of us
There was trnceable tie between Mr..
Greer and myself, but | am not suffi-
ciently versed in such matters to give
it n name. Ormond would have found
the task even more difficult in his own
case, and, as to Gladys, there was not
even legal guardianship.
Mr.. Grcer's eyes were half shut, so
that he could see nothing clearly ex-
cept Gladys face and her hair, which
had n red glow in the light of the
piano lamp. He heard me, but did not
turn his head or speak. He waved
his left hand gently toward me as II
warning to h" quiet while his right
with the fat forct!ng"r pointing toward
the girl, continued !, beat time some
what laboriousiy
He never cared wh@ Gladys played,
enjoying all kinds e.! music equally. 50
long as her hands evoked Il from the in
strument l have seen !ir1 sit and smile
and smile like a great CC--!n wax doll and
beat time Contentedly 10 a nocturnc of
Chopin's fiji to make In" soul weep in
ones body. And when ii would be over
he would slap down his fat palm hard
upon the arm of the chair and say it was
good tune. a pretty tune and nobody
else but Gladys could play it as it ought
to be played Then she would laugh at
him and tease him with chords and dis
cords which he couldn't tell apart but he
would be pleased to think that she was
teaching him, and tears of Joy would
come into his eyes
On this particular occasion the girl was
wrapped up in music and the man in that
crude, half childish happiness which her
presence always yielded him. I skunk into
a chair and viewed this homely and ia
miiar spectacle with horror. as / had not
failed to do since the day when. with an
absurd frankness which he himself was
far from intending. Mr. Greer had reveal
ed his hopes to all of us. | neither heard
nor saw Ormond enter the room but /
felt him there. He had his back against
the frame OF the doorway, and so he stood
and soowled at Mr.. Greer
In this singular household there had
grown up through the years a strong hab-
1t of cheerfulness. Even Ormond laughed
and TESTED at home. though | think he
never did so elsewhere. Mr.. Greer loved
laughter, and he possessed a quaint wit
that could provoke it, a wit without sub
tlety and without cOarseness, amusingly
dull, like Dundrearys, and irresistible in
the perfect aincerity Of its good nature.
There had never been quarrel in that
house, never meal without the benedc-
ton of merr;ncnt, never an evening when