The Washington times., 1911-06-02

of Twelfth and drove up past
the Presidents house to Clay. A
shower had fallen during the night.
Just before dawn, and here. in the beau
tiful old residence district, gardens and
lawns were blooming with early sum-
mer freshness-Richmond was always
the city for roses. The warm wind that
loitered along Clay street was rlch with
the odor Of magnolia blossoms.
The driver stopped the carriage be-
fore an ancient house Of faded red
brick, whose drab wooden pillars At
front and side supported wide two-story
Darkened. silent, It's shutters closed
and dusty, the house stood well back
from the street amid a luNuriance OF
neglected roses. Long grass waved in
the yard; the brick path was Uttered
with twigs and fallen leaves as though
for weeks nothing but the WIND could
have swept II, and an air OF deJectloh
hung over the place which neither the
brilliant June sunshine nor the hoWer-
ing phlox could dispel
While Binah and Lymus collected the
bundles and parcels from the interior
of the carriage, Della, in childish
abandon which she had never out
grown, tripped eagerly across the yard
to smell the Isle de Bourbons that
nodded on their stalks. A bow-legged,
chubby negro infant of three or four
years, in a soiled calico smock, came
wedding haphazard around the side of
the house nibbling a piece of corn bread
and grooming to itself. Old Blnah, en-
tering the gate with an armload of bun
dies, pounced verbally on that infant
like q hawk
LOOK yaw, Sylvestuh! Yo' go tell yo'
nomma missy's come. an git dat ar
hasd G9' o a. So SSen heah aaich me sF An KNOCK
UtterinS q cry, the child ran back, and
presently comely young negress flung
open the front door, bObbing courtesies
'scuse us, Miss DeIey!" she cried.
with soft, gobbling laughter. 'Ah wuz
Sookin' dinnuh. 'Scuse us. Dat do
bells busted. Mawse Vaughan smashed
1t hisself wifi a hatchet.
'Yas'm, vii a hatchet-to keep folks
rom 'sturbin' him wifi dan sympafy
bout Mawse Floyd; Said he couldn't HEnnt
perceiving by Delia's expression that
she had preached a forbidden topic.
Where is Uncle Philip" Della asked,
entering.
gagged writin' anurrer pome."
But while the servant was yet speak
ing. a tall. feeble, white-haired man
emerged from, the library door, attired
in a faded silk dressing-gown and car
pet slippers. He came out with his
ewes half closed, muttering absent
mindedly to himself, and shuffling to-
hallway. Ink stained the inst two fin
gers and the thumb of his right hand,
and from the pockets Of his gown
bulEed rolls of manuscript, which rus
tied as he walked.
Philip Vaughan. Delias bachelor
uncle on her mothers side, was about
fifty years Of age. but prematurely. old
from i'll health. recluse and
dreamer. whose solitude was given up
TO rhapsodies on his violin and poetical
scribbings that never saw the light Of
print. his oddities had given him a GER
tain celebrity around Richmond: In
youth before a secret disappointment
changed him, he had been a great gal
liant and man of fashion at tre watering
places, and there was still ar indetin-
a BILE something in his manner which
suggested the grand gentleman as he
abstractedly kissed the niece's smooth
cheek.
Your coming, my dear" remarked
he. lis surprise as delightful as un-
expected. I-h-m-hope you've come to
stay at least a week. We need the
sunshine in this dreary cave. l believe
Tll-h-m,-lay aside the battle ode on
which I'm engaged this morning. and
with, waving his arm enthusiastically,
the old gentleman trolled out:
Lured from the horrid din of arms
BY a beauteous vision rare,
That-h' mall too briefly fingers
wait, wait-Iu have a rhyme for
that in no time he smut MS eyes, ran
his fingers through his thin hair and
seemed lost in composition.
why. Uncle Philip! ruefully cried
the girl. Have you forgotten? You
me to come and make my home VIII
you! And l wrote that | would! And
I'm here
an idiot I've just been writing my
ode, and it's left me all absent-minded.
OF course. now / remember! I told
Betsey, to prepare your apartments"
Which rooms? I'm so hot and dusty,
III go up right away"
I'm sure l don't know which. I
haven't been upstairs for years-have
had no occasion to. Betsy lie called.
impauently. Betsy! Which rooms did
you prepare?'
At the summons the young colored
woman conducted Della to a clean and
roomy chamber on the east side of the
house where the latter bathed and at
tired herself for dinner.
Uncle and niece dined together in the
big dining room, waited on by Mr..
Vaughan's body servant. Henry. quick
What has become of old Nose Uncle
Philip Della asked, noting the absence
of the butler who had formerly presi-
ded at such functions.
'sH-m-Mose,' replied Mr. Vaughan.
and erected himself in a somewhat
stately manner fro mhis plate, 'disap
peared one day" And he began at
once to talk about Scotts ballads, which
eliminated Nose from the conversation.
They rambled on, then. through va
rious other subjects. but because of the
sharp ears Of Henry avoided the one
theme which lay nearest their hearts.
II was not, indeed, until after supper
that the master of the house expressed
a willingness to discuss the great
trouble which had fallen upon the fam
inly in the arrest of Floyd Coombs. He
led his niece into the front drawing-roou
and carefully closed the door to prevent
the servants from eaveSdropping, for he
had that pride which draws a cloak
about it's misery.
BE seated, my DEAR" said he, OPEN
ing the shutters. ''I know you've want
ed all day to ask me about-him''
Both were silent thereafter, reluctant
set, the delightful hour at which many
officfals and fashionable folk of Rich
rnond preferred to take an airing. and
clay street was lively with promenaders
whose murmurous voices and light
laughter the cool evening breeze bore
into the darkening room. In an easy
chair, his slippered feet against the low
window SILL an unlighted cigar between
his tremulous white fingers, Mr..
Vaughan gazed solemnly out at the
sidewalks and the shifting groups Of
people like one lost in a dream. But
helfa stood UP before the marble man.
and steadily regarded the carpet
The girl first broke the silence.
"Is ne still confined TO Castle God
vtn?" she asked in a hushed voice.
no" her uncle answered. Our rel