The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1904-09-24

aloud I had often known him to do
this when he thought himself alone
Should feel ths?" he cried. SHOULD
see it for the crime that it is if did
not love herT
l knew well enough what he was
thinking about. A perfect echo of that
agonized question rang in my own
mind l saw the crime, as he saw it,
and loved far deeper than he did, for
he had not my strength.
Picture Il girl of eighteen who is tho
sum of all holy and beautiful promises
like some pure flower in the morning
Picture man past fifty. Il hOrid Smil
ing, self contented. successful human
animal. man so entirely common that
he has not even pet vice to make him
self distinctive. man who has won
many things in the world and will take
this girl in the same way as his due
for the effort expended in the matter.
Fancy that she will give herself for
gratitude because the man has been
kind to her. because he has fed and
clothed her since she was child, hav-
Ing been the friend of her father, who
died poor and without kin.
Ormond began to walk up and down
before the window. and thinking that
he would see me. l passed on to the
head Of the stairs and so to the draw
ing room, where Gladys was playing
on tho piano,
. In large easy chair sat the man
whom we all called uncle, though he
bore that relationship to none of us.
There was q traceable tie between Mr..
Greer and myself, but am not sufIi-
GENTLY vcrsed in such matters to give
it name Ornond would have found
the task even more difficult in his own
case. and. as to Gladys, there was not
even II legal guardianship.
Mr.. Grcer's eyes were half shut. so
that he could see nothing clearly OK
ccpt Gladys face and her hair, which
had 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 Il
warning to be quiet. while his right,
with the fat forcfnger pointing toward
the girl. continued to beat time some
what laboriouSly.
He never cared what Gladys played,
enjoying all kinds of music equally, so
long as her hands evoked it from the in
strument. l have seen him sit and smile
and smile like great comic wax doll and
beat time contentedy to nocturne of
Chopins fl to make the soul weep in
ones body. And when it would be over
he would slap down his fat palm hard
upon the arm of the chair and say it was
a good tune. pretty tune. and nobody
else but Gladys could play it as 1t ought
to be played. Then she would laugh ut
him ana t"gsr 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. | skunk into
a chair and viewed this homely and ia
miliar spectacle with horror, as I 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 u.s. / neither heard
nor saw Ormond enter the room, but |
felt him there He had his back against
the frame of the doorway, and 50 he stood
and scowed at Mr.. Greer.
In this singular household there had
grown up through the years 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, wit without sub
tlety and without coarseness amusingly
dull like Dundreary's, and irresistible in
the perfect sincerity Of its good nature.
There had never been quarrel in that
house, never a meal without the benedic-
tion Of merriment never an evening when