The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1910-04-15

CdISWOlu lOOh COuluS over ueF Sweet
face, Il must go about my business.
We seem to be doing no good, and it
is not worth while waiting till Reggie
comes back.
Arthur followed her to the door.
"Dont be down, old girl, he said
kindly. Something is sure to turn
up"
II never heard that anything did
turn up for Mr.. Micawber," she an
swered. quickly. "At all events it is
no use folding ones hands to wait
until it does"
He drew back Il don't want to do
that" he said, quietly.
"Oh! Arthur, did not mean any
! thing, but it does rile me to see
! Reggie with all his splendid talents
| and his grand education, and every
thing to be thrown away on such
paltry employment; and yet, if he re-
| fuses it, it is like giving up wider
(. prospects still. There, won't grum-
| ble." And, drying her eyes, Janet
went off.
Arthur went slowly downstairs
with his hands in his pockets. This
theory of Reggie's splendid talents
was It only theory? He had be-
lieved in it implicitly in spite of
every successive report, first from
school and then from Oxford either
Reggie was growing too fast for
work, poor boy, or he had an unfair
master, and Reggie could never stand
master he did not like. Then at
Oxford he had turned out to have lost
all the previous years of his life by
having been so badly taught. Then
it was most unsafe to press on the
highly strained intellect of genius;
and, finally, Reggie obtained no hon
ors, merely scraped through as hum
dreds of others have done. and came
home beautifully got up in appear
ance, but with small honor to him
self, and a gratified feeling of self
respect, in the belief which he found
! mistaken in the breasts of his family
that his superiority was unassail-
able, only that he had been unfor-
tunate in his surroundings.
Arthur had his hand on the handle
of the door when his father came out
of the library and stopped his exit.
Here, Arthur, / want you," he
said, briefly.
The library of Denstone Court was,
alas! only now called so by courtesy,
as the books were gone. Only the
yawning shelves remained. It was
a fine room, and, like the rest of he
house, had about it the ghost of de-
parted comfort and luxury.
The Squire of Denstone Court
looked about as worn away and shah
by as his own furniture He had let
everything slip helplessly through his
fingers. His poverty might at one
time have been grappled with, but
the time had gone by now.
Poo- Mr.. Denstone got more and
more deeply involved, more and more
hopeless; and he found no help in his
wife, who, worn out by the cares of
her large family and the feeble petu-
lance of her lord. had subsidized into
mere household drudge. The sons
and daughters might have been a
comfort individually, but they were
a tremendous incubus en- masse.
One powerful friend they had in
the Uncle Alfred, the successful Liv-
erpool merchant, who had sent Reg
inald to Oxford, and whose offer of
clerks place in his house, at salary
of sixty pounds year, had seemed
such a downfall to all their hopes.
1t was on the subject of this offer
that Mr.. Denstone wanted to speak
to his son.
Come here. Arthur, !" he said, ner-
vously, @and sit down. l want to talk
to You, but it fidgets me to see you
standing"
you look tired, father, said Ar
thur. kindly. Il am afraid something
has worried you.
Il am always tired and always
worried" said Mr.. Denstone, impa-
tiently, thrusting his hand through
his thin gray hair, but am quite
used to it now, thank heaven. 1t is
really your mothers fault, she does
worry SO about Reggie
What about him?" said Arthur,
surprised. @Of course. the salary is
not very high one, but with his tall
/ ents he Is sure to get on, and my
uncle will probably offer him part
nership."
"But he is not to have it, you see.
Not to have it? Has my uncle re-
tracted his offer?"
! Yes. he has: and in the most I'M
fattering manner. 1t is that that has
SO upset your mother"
Il am so sorry" said Arthur. fer
vently.
II always knew how it would be-
said Mr.. Denstone, ENORMOUSLY.
Reggie gives himself the airs of a
marquis, and dresses like a dandy.
Your uncle is plain man, and, bless
my soul, he married his cook, as you
know. and can't be expected to. be a
judge of refinement. He actually
l