The Montgomery advertiser., 1905-07-15
AN INTERRUPTED REVERE
BY THOMAS CONANT. Copyright, 1905, by Daily Story Pub
 fishing C0l

(COpyrfght, lSU5, Dy Ddily otory ruo-
 fishing Col
 Morton sat in a corner of the con-
 servatory smoking. This was a priv
 ilege accorded him by Mrs. Hatch when
 he came to one of her functions. It
 was recognized as a distinct concession
 that he should come at all. for Morton
 had long ago eschewed society and
 was a notorious woman-hater
 Morton was a very successful man. so the world said. ana he admitted It
 himself. Barely 3s he had wrested for-
 tune and reputation from the gruaslns
 world No one stood higher in his par
 ticular line and he was much counted and sought after in the business world.
 He had never married and had no do- nestle responsibilities, had ample
 means to gratify every desire, was fine ly educated. and appreciated the best things in literature. music and art.
 Hence he was regarded as most for
 tunate man and envied accordingly. And, indeed, he appreciated all the good
 things which had come to him and was as contented as any bachelor can be. But like all other old bachelors a
 great might have been" was buried
 deep in his heart of hearts. He had
 stuffed 1t consistently for many years, but every now and then it would es- cape from its dark corner and revel
 
 After he had writhed and struggled and sighed long enough to appreciate what had happened, he would resolutely drive
 1t back into the dark corner and cham 1t up again. It had escaped again this
 night as he sat in the conservatory smoking and listening to the music and chatter of gay voices. In fact the very occasion had been the means of break ing its chain and turing it forth.
 ft,ip in, faces. the flowers, the gayety of the evening brought to his mind, uncalled and uE- wanted. the memory of another even | ing in the long ago. There were music and flowers and bright young faces and gayety in that evening, too. Maybe there were old bachelors and smoke and bitter reviews there too; if so. he had not known it and these were not | a part of his memory. He was then a young stripling of 19, in the hcyday ot youth and hope and ardent spirits and ambition and courage. The world was before him and he had already tried his mettle and won q joust. Everything was rosy and all things possible.
 To crown all there was a beautiful girl, quecnly and fair to look upon, with red lips and laughing eyes and wavy lair and ways that were tend,r and ways that were tantaliziag. And it | was Ter face and her presence which rerv aded and enveloped and dominated the memory. She was IT and the idol of his dreams. They had been lovers during all their youth and most sunp- tuous was the castle they had huildei unto themselves, in the air and into its turrets and minarcts and balconies and pelfries and halls and chambers. had they woven all he delignts of their youthful fancies. All their hap piness had eliminated on just such a night as this when he had told her Hf his good fortune and announced that he was fairly started in the race of life and asked her to Lame daN for the realization of their dreams. She had looked a little frightened ard told him to hush and not talk foolish before | folks, but to come to see hor on the | following evening. He was a trfle up- set by the mere suggestion that she | should not be ready as soCn as they could take the step. but acquiosced and | just then she was ct.;led to the piano 70 sing Then he knew it was all right, because she chose their favorite song, | Robin Adair, which she had sung for
 him a hundred times. and sang it right | at him. How well he remembered 1t | now. Every note and word was inlaid | into his consciousness. He could see the demure glance she threw him as l she sang the lines:
 Where's all the joy and mlrtn
 Made this town Heaven on earth? | An, it's gone with thee, Robin Adair!
 And then in a flash came the end. l He recalled the light step with which