The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-12-18


 journey home-six week to the day since he had said good-by to India this last-minute rush was. to say the least, illogical, particularly as there was no one in London waiting for him; no one who was even aware of his arrival. Indeed, it was likely that there was no one in Lon don who was aware of his exist ence, except, perhaps, the clerk of the clur. to whom he had tele- grapheG head for accommodations The rigidity of his posture, gtraining forward there on his seat, became suddenly painful and absurd He tried to relax, but the effort was more than it was worth, and he sat forward again, looking out.
 Yes, things were familiar enough but familiar like old photographs one has forgotten the significance of. The emotion had gone out Of them. It was the new things, the unfamiliar contours, that were most apparent. that seemed to thrust upon his consciousness the city's gigantic, self-centered indifference Yet it was just that quality that he had loved most in London. She had let him alone. She had been-he recalled the high-flown phrase of his youth-the supremeIy indifferent friend! Perhaps, he thought to himself, when one is fifty, one cares less to be let alone'; less for in difference as the supreme attribute of a friend.
 He felt a queer sweep Of home sickness for India, whence he had come; but to feel homesick for India was ridiculous, since he had just come out of India because he was homesicIz for England. He had been homesick for England. he had been telling himself, for all those twenty-five years.
 Well! here he was. Home!
 Strange he hadn't thought of the automobiles and the electricity, and the difference they would make.
 The taxi backed suddenly, gears shifted, and drew up alongside the curb. Looking out. Ayling recog- nized the high, familiar street door of the club. Something about it had been changed, or replaced, he couldn't quite make out what. The driver opened the door, lifted out Ayling's bag. and deposited it ex- pertly with a swing on the step. Then he waited respectfully while Ayling fished in his pockets for change. Having received it. he leaped with great agility to the seat, shifted gears, chugged, backed and turned, and was abruptly round the corner and out of sight
 At the desk, AyIing experienced a momentary surprise to find himself actually expected.
 MT. AyIing? Yes, sir. Your room r cIarIE a bell, and began to give instruc- tions about Mir AyIing's luggage.
 AyIing felt that he ought to ask for some one, inquire if some of the old members were in: but, standing there, he could not think of a single name except names of a few non resident members like himself, men who were at that moment in India
 Will you go up, sir r?'
 Later" said Ayling. Just send up my things -
 He crossed the foyer and entered the lounge. Here, as before in the streets, it was the changes of which he was most aware-hSured hang 7ngs in place of the old red velours, the upholstery renewed on the old chairs and divans. Strangers sat here and there in the familiar hooks, strangers who looked up at him with a mild curiosity, and returned 10 their papers or their cigars. He wandered on through the rooms, seeking-without quite saying so himself-seeking a familiar face, and found none. Even the propor- +ions of the rooms seemed changed; he could hardly have said just how; not much. but slightly, though, all
 1JI1N fha Names began to come back to him; memories resurrected themselves, rose out of corners to greet him as he passed. They began to give him a oueer sense of his own unreality, as if he himself were another mem ov Abruptly he turned, made his way back to the desk. and asked to be shown to his room There he spent an hour puttering aimlessIy, adjusting his things, put ting in the time.
 Then he dressed and went down to a solitary dinner. There was great activity in the club at that hour, comings and goings, in parties Of four and five. He found a kind of dolorous amusement in seeing how much more at. home all the youngsters about him seemed than he. And he had been at home there when they were in the nursery doing sums
 Here and there at the tables were older men. men of his own age, and he reflected that among them might easily be some of his boyhood friends. He would never know them now. He searched their faces for z familiar feature. watched them for a gesture he might recognize But in the end he gave it up "Old town" he said to himself. old town. bv love! you've forgotten me-"
 That night he went alone to a rheater. walked back through the crowds to the club, and went imme- diately to bed. He was grateful to find himself suddenly very tired.
 The next morning he rose late and did not leave his room until noon. when he went down to a solitary lunch. After lunch he stopped at the clerks window and inquired about one or two old members. The clerk looked up the names After good deal of inquiry and fussing about. he ascertained that one of the gentlemen was in China, one was dead. and third about whom Ayling also inquired could not be traced as aH. Ayling went out and