The Montgomery advertiser., 1908-01-12

| that weil-ordered and prudent house. hold.
 The object of that trepidation was . l young lady who had been most cor rectiy bred from early youth. in the I contemplation of the blessed mission | or young ladies to marry well and in manner becoming noble pedigrees. By | dint of constant iteration the Newcomes not only had made their friends be- lieve. but believed themselves. the Newcome pedigree leading back to that l most useful barber-surgeon of the field side Lady Ann, Ethel could boast most undoubted blue blood through her grandmother, Lady Kew.
 | That domineering old campaigner had determined long ago to marry Ethel to her grandson Lord Kew. The family agreed docilely: her daughter, Lady Ann. because she was abjectly afraid of the fierce old woman, and Sir Brian and his son for the dual reason that they wanted lord in the family. and
 because Lady Kew would not leave her great fortune to Ethel under any other condition. The Newcomes adored rank and worshipped money. Give Newcome represented neither.
 Into this life of mixed shoddy aristocracy and genuine. Colonel New I come came like breeze--a breeze that ruffled tire elder Newcomes sadly, and Il an awakening. Thomas Newcome and his niece fell in love with each other instantaneously. like Prince Camaral- zaman and the Princess of China.
 He took a little, slim white hand and laid 1t down on his brown palm.
 where 1t looked all the whiter; he cleared the grizzled moutachio from
 his mouth, and, stopping down. he kissed the little white hand with a great deal of grace and dignity. There | was no point of resemblance, and yet a something In the girls look, voice | and motion caused his heart to thrill and an image out of the past to rise
 up and salute him. The eyes which I had frightened his youth (and which he saw fin his dreams and thoughts for faithful years afterwards, as though
 they looked at him out of heaven),
 seemed to shine upon him after fiye-
 and thirty years.
 It was the romance of his youth,
 snatched from him almost in it's dawn.
 and held sacred by him through all l the years, even while he was the kind and indulgent husband of Gives
 mother.
 What a frank. generous, bright
 young creatureP thought he. What
 a fine match might be made between
 her and Give"
 That night the Colonel said to his
 serNant' say, hean, IS tnat blue
 coat of mine very old?'
 Uncommon white about the seams,
 Colonel" said the man.
 "Is it older than other people s
 coats?" Kean confessed graveiy that
 1t was very queer.
 Get me another coat, then, and see
 that don't do anything or wear any
 thing unusual" said the Colonel.
 But, even had honest Tom New come's innocent plans ever had the slightest chance of success. that chance
 would have been ruined absolutely by
 an act of Give that struck the New come family as nothing short of a scandal. He determined to be an ar tist!
 If the Colonel was at all disappoint- 1 ed by Gives choice, his loyal love Il never permitted the feeling to take I form even within his secret thoughts. He placed his son with a famous mas ter and paid lavishly for fitting up a I studio and den in the house which The and Binnie engaged.
 Thus Give Newcome entered life. | Before long his fellow students agreed that he could do great things when ever he should get down to real work, and his society friends agreed that his odd fad was most entertaining and l made him immensely interesting. He rode fine horses and disported himself 1 with London's finest dandies in the park. He partook with equal zest of the remarkable feasts of polonies and beer with his fellow artists in their bare rooms. In a word, yhe was as | much at home in a drawing room as in public house parler.
 The Colonel was now in the posses sion of that felicity for which his soul had longed; and yet, as the months | went on, his face grew unconsciously l 1ala ia Cln uff looser on his long limbs, and he began to sit in long silences.
 | Sitting thus, he could hear Give | and his friends making merry over head. He longed to share in it, but | the party would be hushed if he went into join 1t. and he would come away l sad at heart, to think that his pres ence should be a signal for silence and that his son could not be merry in his company.
 1 Perhaps this hastened his determi- nation to return to India wien his fur tough ended. He had found that he could not live in England on his in- | come and give Give what he desired, | so he decided to return and get his promotion, which would insure him a sufficient pension. Not that he was poor. He calculated that he could give Give ten thousand pounds when he married and five hundred pounds a | year out of his own allowance. This, reflected the Colonel, would enable his son to enjoy life and paint as many | or as few pictures as he pleased. So he settled hundred pounds year~on his boy and arranged in addition for | a most handsome annual sum to be l paid while he was away; and then he went bravely back to India bearing the parting from all that he loved for | the sake of that love.
 Give immediately plunged with all the ardor of his nature into the prac- tice of his profession, determined on | living by it. He carried four sketches | to print seller and obtained a sovereign and half, which happy news he dispatched to India at once, explain- 1 ing that he could do six such sketches easily in morning, which would mean | at the lowest calculation. five hundred | pounds year, so that he would not | need to touch his allowance at all Then he gave grand feast to all his | friends in honor of the thirty shillings and departed for a sketchinE tour in Europe, for which purpose he bought snug little travelling carriage. At Baden he fell in with his aunt, Lady Ann, the little Newcomes and Ethel, all travelling very grandiy with | couriers and retlnue. Lady Kew was not there. Good natured Lady Ann 1 freed from the domination of her auto | cratic mother. was too lazy or too inc dulgent to interpose any difficulties | between her handsome nephew and her beautiful daughter.