Chapter 174508724

See chapter in newspaper

Chapter NumberIV
Chapter Url
Full Date1892-01-30
Page Number1
Word Count5274
Last Corrected0000-00-00
Newspaper TitleThe Bendigo Independent (Vic. : 1891 - 1918)
Trove TitleThe Devil's Own. An Australian Story
article text




"Rememberance is the only paradise out of which we cannot be driven away—Indeed our first parents were not deprived of it. RICHTER.

In another apartment of the hotel Conti nental a different conversation is going on. It is between two men, Sir Hubert Annytoge who has just entered and his friend or secre tary or dependant or whoever die may be. Sholto Forth, who is lolling back in an arm chair, his feet np on another, the picture of cool enjoyment. “Knocked up?" says Forth, as the baronet enters scowling at everything." “No ; I am sick of tho place; I am off to morrow morning orJMonday nt the latest—it’s too hot hero. ” l * Hey day! what’s up ~ pretty widow snubbed you?” said the other man sitting bolt upright and staring hard at his friend, “ Widow? what widow?" said the baronet savagely. “ Forth, you forgot your position. “Never,” said Forth; “never, I know my position too well worse luck,” he adds bitterly. “Humbug? Why the devil do you keep it then?” said the baronet, pulling tho boll violently, ordering brandy and soda and a Bradshaw. “No train to-morrow,” says Forth; “and if there was you couldn’t go. How can you?” “ I can do ns I please, which is more than you can say; so you can put that in your pipe and smoko it,” Sholto Forth' utters - not a word; he has taken up.a nowspapei to hide his anger and his clenched teeth, as he mutters to himself viciously, “curse tho hound,” then ho slowly recovers himself and says: “I don’t see how you can got away till after the races. You know you have backed Zola heavily, and of course she must win— that's your usual luck (oynicolly) ; but if you go away—when the cat’s away the mice are nt play,” said Forth. “1 expect you >to keep tho mice in order and, by Heaven 1 you’ll have to keep watch— they'll require it. Your work is out out for you. Arrange with Johnson about the mare. Those fellows can always bo bought. By tho way that fellow Stanmore. hasn’t paid up— shifty beggar*. I’ll give mm a hint, or you cap. Just write Sir Hubert Armytago’s com pliments to Captain Stanmore, .and request that a settlement will bo made shortly, and Sir Hubert Armytago, being a gentleman, always paying his debts of honey, expects other gentlemen to do the same. ” “What a queer way of putting it,” said Forth laughing. “ Hanged if I could write in that way," “Perhaps not; very likely not,” said tho baronet sarcastically. “Your education has evidently been very much neglected on cer tain pointsr-habits and customs of gentle men of tho age.” “Gentlemen or baronets?” said Forth curi ously. “Both,” said Sir Hubert, with a curl of tho lip. “However, there’s no time to bandy words; you seem to have got out of bed the wrong side, Forth.” “Never felt happier,” said tho other; “well I’ll not say that, but I will say that I feel as jolly as a sand boy, and if you had come in a little sooner you would have found mo waltz ing to the Blue Danube they were playing outside. “Glad to hoar it,” said the baronet in surprise. “To what may 1 attribute tho happy change. Solitude is not generally invigorating, and with tho cxcoplon of the waiters and chamber maids, whom I know is not your weakness, I don’t know anyone else in tho house to en liven one.” Sholto Forth was silent Ho had intended to have opened his heart to his patron, as he sarcastically termed the baronet, but second thoughts, which are always of the head and wiser, made him change his mind, added to the gruff and growling manner of Sir Hubert whoso tempers and whims very often made life almost unbearable to his so-called friend, so he kept the little episode of tho dog and tho girl to himself, nor did bo confess how, for a whole hour, lie had sat (with tho door open and his head leaning nganst the wall) in rapt silence, listening to a voice that was as from heaven itself, as the rich pure notes poured forth that exquisite song, “ Tho harp' an the Air,” touchingly, and so full of expres sion and feeling, that Sholto Forth, hardened sinner as ho called himself, base man of the world, could stand it no longer, getting up, banging tho door, and stamping about os if to shut out tho sod strains and touching words reminding him alas 1 100 cruelly, of tho past of a certain day in tho old cathedral at Exeter —of a voice there never, never to ho forgotten —of a face well remembered in its soft gentle exprosion and fair sweet outlines softened by tho evening sunset shining with subdued light through tho dim stained windows of the old church. “ Will those days never never return,” said ho; “no never for me—never for me. She is dead, ” Ho hid his face in his bands for a moment, then looked up and listened again. The voice bad returned to earth, ns it were, and was singing touchingly, “Never more,” then on to gayer songs, in a rich voice, full of laughing melody “Gin a body meet a body cornin' through tho rye.” For a while then all was silent, os tho listener sat on picturing to him self the face of the singer, tho ideal fnco of on ideal singer, beautiful and sweet and gentle looking; no doubt “ she could not be otherwise with such a voice. “New arrivals,” Gustave told Annytoge; “ well I have letters to write, so adieu to tho pleasant picture I have conjured up. Lion, Lion, old follow, are you there? IJo ho is not I must look ofter him. He is too fierce looking to bo at large. I’ll ring for Gustavo to bunt him up. I’ve my letters ready to post ” The whole afternoon scone had come before him, as Sir Hubert in his bad temper had said; “Forth, you forget your position,” re minding him that lie was a slave, a menial, os far as liberty wont, tied hand and glove to a man for whom ho had the greatest con tempt; to whom, evidently ho, Sholto Forth, had become a necessary companion, why, ho knew not, except it was to civilise and edu cate the brute in tho usages of society after his barbarous life amongst the savages. “But 1 did not bargain to being taunted with being slave-ship, and told I forgot my position." “Forget it,” ho thought to himself. How could ho forget, ho had hut one hourly re gret—that ho had over been so mad as to sell bis freedom. It was at Rome at the hotel of a friend of his—Count Florieo Bolloni—where a party wore playing baccarat, that ho had mot Sir Hubert Armytago, a man not popular in society, nor a favorite with Forth and his friends who hod tho entree of the best houses. Sir Hubert Armytage had boon unusually reckless that night, and Forth in a frenzy of excitement bad also staked heavily and lost; bad staked again, hoping against fate, _ until bis last piece of gold had gone and himself n beggar. Ho bit this lip in anger, and got up from tho table saying lightly “I cannot fight against fate; good night friends; it is very late. I have had enough. I have nothing more to lose, ” “Ho was generally so lucky,” they said, as in his despair ho was about to leave them. They pressed him to remain to play on, offer ing their purses, and ns ho got to the door Sir Hubert Armytago touched him on tho shoulder. ' “Never say die, mon chcr. Hero is my purse, make use of it— n thousand or so will never ho missed. I have more than I. know what to do with,” Sholto Forth with such temptnion at bis elbow, had not tbh strength of mind to resist, Eroud as he was, so with eyes beaming, with ope and anticipation, he sat down again and played on, staking heavily, but to lose again, then too Into, remembering his folly and mad ness, and that ho was worse than ruined ho remorsefully said good night, despair written on his fuce| and hurried forth with what wretched intentions ho himself only know. Ho strode on, away from the excitement and light of tho gas lamps out into tho darkness till bo was qnite alone, then he stopped for a mom on to give way to bitter regret and tear less thoughts. A voice in the dark startled him. “Mon ami, don’t be a fool, for the sake of a freak of ill fortune. ” “I was a foo! to accept your offer,” said Forth angrily; “I made sure your money would turn my luck. Now that Ims failed better death dishonor. I cannot pay you,” * “Who naked you to pay, mon chcr? I do not—life is prrocious. If your conscience ia . soft pay me in friendship. I am alone in the world. I want a friend and a companion, stick tome. Wo will leave this if yon like and travel together. You will hover regret it until you tire of mo and fail in your friend ship. but I must have tho genuine tiling and no sham.” b Forth hod accepted. They had travelled

together for over a year, Forth wondering what motiro a rich baronet of birth and pedigree could have for paying tho carto blanche expenses of a stranger. Certainly 8ir Hubert bad ranch to learn of tho manners and customs of society. Ho was deficient even in grammar, to'say nothing of gentle manly habits and ways, from having lived amongst savages in tho bush, thought Forth, who was a thorough gontlomkn and accus tomed oven to' homage from society, for his handsome face, good qualities, and useful accomplishments; but ho was getting siok of his boredom in having to play showman to a baron ot. “ I shall have to oat dirt a little longer, but only a little longer." CHAPTER XV. . FASCINATION. I “She's beautiful, therefore to bo loved— ! wooed. Sho is a woman; therefore to be won.” Henry VI. “What a molamorphossis! trnnsmogrifica •*> ‘ n , ou ldn’t have supposed it possible,” said Eleanor Jones, throwing herself in o a low and comfortable chair and taking a survey of the the room from coiling, to car pet “By jove ! it only shows what a woman of taste can do.” Certainly it was a room with its belongings fit to charm the heart of a more fastidious person than Eleanor Jones. There was no stiff formal suite of furniture to tiro the eye or give one tho backache with tho dis comfort of their uprightness. Sofa and easy lounges, low and comfortable modern sofas and fautoils were scattered about tempt ipglj'jfiiitvint tete-a-tete picnic, writing, work, and other tables placed only for use. Flowers everywhere, pannon violets in particular, their fresh fragrance perfuming tho atmos phere. An Eraifl piano, with musio scattered around it, told of the musical tasto of tho hostess, altogether tho apartment of a woman of refinement and simple but good tasto. Three ycars_ have passed over Mrs. Anne layo’s head sinco wo last saw her fighting her way through the thistles and weeds of her present homo, hut she is little altered for old time has dealt gently with her, and tho bright young face is, if anything, more beautiful in its softened expression. It is Sunday afternoon, and ns is her eus i tom, she has been reading to tho children j stories of their own choice. Sho is not a 1 rigid Sabbatarian in any way, thinking it a day of rest and relaxation, of quiet pleasure and contentment. She likes to make her children think of tho seventh day with de light, rather than dread, so sho fills her floworstands, discoursing sweet talk about God’s gifts, as she picks tho bright blossoms to tho little ones around her, and when tho afternoon comes they are all in a heap about her listening to some children’s stories sho reads to them. But on this afternoon a loud ring at tho bell tells her of visitors, so tho readig is put off and tho children have free pormisson to go out in tho garden for a time. “ How-dye Mrs. Annelaye; I’ve brought my friend, Sir Hubert Armytago, I introduced to you yesterday — an old shipmate,” says Ebenezer Jones, waving his hand and looking serio-comically towards the baronet, who ad vances bluahingly with a bow as the widow holds out her hand formally though kindly to both. “ You must have a magic hand Mrs. Anne lay o to have turned this into fairyland; only —let mo see. Not three years the place was a veritable rats’ eastlo—what about tho rats?” “ I have never oven seen a mouse,” said the widow laughingly. “I must have frightened thorn all away.” “ I see you have turned the bowling green into a tennis lawn; a groat improvement,” said Mr. Ebenezcr Jones. “ Yes, it will be more useful to mo, you see. I hear of girls playing billiards, cricket, and other manly games, but I do not think they have reached tho game of bowls in their progress of their march in athletic sports.” Tho baronet has seated himself in a distant part of tho room, apparently listening to tho conversation, but in reality thoroughly ab sorbed in the contemplation of a cabinet photograph in a handsome velvet folding frame that stands on a small table near the window. How did you like the singing this morn ing, Sir Hubert?” says tho widow, turning to her visitor at the window. “I never go to church.” answers her visi tor. “I leave that for the sky ‘ pilots,’ Mrs. Annelaye.” “I beg your pardon ! tho—tho— ” says tho widow. “Sky pilots, dovil dodgers, parsons I sup pose you call •them,” said the baronet, still looking at tho photograph ho now held in his band. Mrs. Annelaye looked serious, but only for a moment, then she -blushed hotly. She had an old fashioned reverence for religion, and men of sacred calling. “I thought tho singing lovely,” sho said gently to Mr. Jones. “Such a heavenly voice tho solo singer has. I saw you there with Mrs. Jones. “No; did you really. Well, do you know I gave you credit for never once taking your eyes off your book tho whole service through. You always remind mo of one of those pic tures of—of—saint, saint—what’s her name. St. Cecelia, isn’t it You look so unapproach ingly devout; so shockingly good.” “Well I did not feel very sanctimonious this morning to confess the truth, for tho heat was much loo oppressive to bo bear able contentedly, they never will open tho windows," said'tho widow. “ Why don’t you tell the verger?” said Mr. Jones. “I have done so before, and then some chilly mortal had thorn shut up again, giving me tho snub direct It was simply suffocating this morning. Fortunately I am not given to fainting, hut I did feel tho heat almost over powering; perhaps living so muoh in the country has spoilt mo for close rooms and stifling atmosphere,” says tho widow. “ Armytagc, where's your manners? You have not spoken a word. Anybody would think you wore shy; you’ve done nothing but take an inventory of Mrs. Annelayo’s nick nacks. I shall fcavo you to retrieve your character and apologise. I see tho chilron Mrs. Annclayo, with you permission I’ll look at tho sea with Puck—such a bravo little follow, Armytago; its great fun to hear him calling his mother ‘Dolly,’" said Ebenozor rising. “I will come with you, Mr. Jones ,” said the widow, evidently not caring for solitude a deux as far as tho baronet was concerned. Sir Hubert looked angry os bo joined thorn in their exit from tho room on to tho lawn, “Who is that man, ‘Dolly?’” said Puck, looking up at Sir Hubert cautiously. “That is Alldcbaronto Phospopbornio, Puck,” said Jones,’“and has lost his tongue.i Ho loft it at tho Hotel Continental” “Did you really? have you got no tongue?” said the child, wondoringly to tho silent visitor. Ho is a naughty wicked man (pointing to his friend) little one ; don’t you boliovo him ; he is telling naughty wicked stories after going to church and piotonding to bo saying his prayers all tho morning—naughty wicked follow,” said tho baronet, apparently recover ing his good temper. “Puck, run in dear for mamma and toll iSmmons to bring tho tea and some olarot to the summer house. It will bo pleasanter thau the house; thero is such a fresh breozo form tho sea.” Simmonds soon after appeared with tho tray, tho children wont indoors and the trio sat on, watching tho waves as they rippled almost to tho floor of tho summer house. “A glorious placo for a bath," said Jones, “ if tnoro arc no sharks about, oh Mrs, Anne laye, but if ifs and ands wore pots and pons you would And mo down here early some fine morning, as it is I have too much love for number ono.” “Thank you, I will toko a cup of tea, though, as a rule I hate the old maids’ tipple, to tell you the truth I am so sleepy I feel os bltnky as an old is awfully rude I know—but ohuroh followed by a heavy feed 5s enough to take tho life out of any one this weather. By-the-byo the races will bo hero soon, wo hope Mrs. Annelaye you will §ivo us tho pleasure of your company on the rag—thero, haven’t I done it well? Hearken yo people, 1 have delivered the wife’s message verbatim and properly, bless mo, its won derful what a memory I must have. Mrs. Jones is coming to see you herself about it— now for my message. You will como will you not? do—yon shall have tho box seat and handle the ribbons if you care for that sort of tiling." “Thank yon very much, I never go to races now, and if I did, I couldn’t very well manage it this time for I am expecting tho Fortescuo’s for tho race week. ” “Oh, butyon must como, I think I can give Mrs. Fortcscue a seat,” “Easily,” said Sir Hubert, “I shall drive my own trap.” “ No, wo cannot spare you: but Mrs. Annclayo you will como, it will bo awfully jolly. No ond of fun.” “Did Mrs. Jones really send mo that message?” said the widow. “Honor bright," said Ebenozor, laughing. “I must write and thank her.” “Don’t trouble to writ©; but if you .would rather do so I’ll tako il’’

“Why nee I troublo you," laugh ing- r. ? ' yon doubt my postmanship? I’ll tako “Thou if you will excuse mo for a few minutes Sir Hubert, I will write a fow linos," she said, rising to cross tho lawn. “ Mrs. Annelayo, you don’t mind our having a smoko during your absonco? It will sorvo to make tho heavy moments pass quicker,” said Ebenczer. “Hasn’t Mr, Ebonozor Jones improved in his manners, and onsomble sinco ho went to Europe Mrs. Annolayo? At least every one says so, so it roast bo trpe, ovon I see a differ ence of late. They spoilt him on board tho Lahore; they did positively. 1 began to foci quite jealous; it was whore’s Mr. Jones hero, nt want Mr. Jones there; hare you scon Mr. Jones? from all quarters,” said tho baronet half cynically. “Poor Mrs. Jones! she is much to be pitied,” said tho pretty widow pathetially, os sho moved away, “Anything wrong old follow?” said Jones to his friend; “you look so awfully down in tho mouth.” “Do I?” said Sir Hubert. “I am all right but I hate Sunday; it’s such a crusher to one’s spirits—a wot blanket to one’s feelings; one’s very' ideas and conversation are nipped in the bud in remembering it is Sunday, tho dullest and most stupid of all days of tho week. ” “Do you think so? I rather like Sunday, it is ’ tho only day I feel free from troublo, business, beggars, letter?, bills and other nuisances, simply because there is no post— blessed interval of relaxation au rcsto after going to chuoh. I feel somehow a better man and friendly towards the world in <*oneralj charitably inclined in fact." “HumbugI don’t talk such utter rot to mo Jones ; don't try to pose ns double distilled hypocrite. Tho role does not suit yo'u, mon chcr,” said Sir Hubert, “Puck cannot got tho idea of your having no tongue out of his little poto—ho is at present having a debate with his nurse on tho subject of being able to talk without a tongue—with absurd illustrations on bis part,” said Mrs.Annolayo, who had joined the four with a note in her hand. “ You oamo in time, Mrs. Annolayo, for Jones I assure you was fast losing his head and talking twaddle. “It will be a Welsh compliment to ask you to slay for a modest supper, for tho last train, leaves about, nine and I am afraid there is not tho chance of a cab in this primitive dis trict, ” “Thank you, but we must be off, I promised, to meet Clavering at the Club at nine,” said; Ebenczer, shaking Mrs. Annolayo’s hand and marching away quickly, leaving without in terruption. “Good night, Mrs. Annelayo. May I come sometimes, and will you forgive my rudeness of to-day." said tho baronet, holding the widow’s hand until sho blushed rosy red, and looking very disconcerted as she drew it oway quickly. “Ar-my-togo,” shouted a voice from the gate. Sir Hubert bit his lip in annoyance. “You have not answered my petition," he said. “Sir Hubert, any friends of Mrs. Jones will be always welcome hero; good night, and you you know you have to contradict Puck’s theory about you having no tongue, ” said tho widow, noticing the hot blood and vexation iu tho baronet’s face. “Happy little Puck,” said Sir Hubert, stroking his moustache and looking into tho violet eyes, ns he said good-bye once more and hurried after his friend, who, getting impatient, had been amusing himself with scratching with his stick tho outline of a big heart with an arrow stuck through it, in the well rolled and smooth gravel drive. Had the baronet known the trouble and questioning anxiety bo had caused by his last objectionable stare, ho would have wished himself blind for many a long day, and dent to the attractions of Vera Annolayo. They had nearly reached tho station before she re covered herself, as sho sat on, deep in thought, her hands before her eyes as if to recall or shut out some vision of tho past. “Whore have I seen him? I seem to know his face, and yet it cannot be. Ho is only just out from England. I never met him there, and yet I remember his face, and I fancy in some way connected with my darling —hut that mast bo fancy—bo must resemble some friend of ours. I don’t like him, though somehow his face has haunted me all day. How silly I am, ho can never bo anything to m. I must go to tho ohicks, they always du mo good.” “I remember now,” she said, pausing for a moment on her way to tho nursery, with one hand on her forehead. I remember, it was on board tho Kashmir coming out, I must have seen him. Ho must have boon amongst tho passengers—to bo sure—Aunt Dorothy will remember him—and that accounts for his looking nt my darling’s portrait so long and so thoughtfully. CHAPTER XVI. Cunning. “And yet ho thinks! ha, ha, ha, ha! ho thinks I am the tool and servant of his will. Well, let it be through all the maze of troublo His plots and base oppression must create. I’ll shape myself a way to higher things, And who will say ’tis wrong.” Basel. “So you really are off, Armytnge?” said Forth tho next morning, entering their sitting room and seating himself nt tho breakfast table. “Yes, I shall just take up country for a day or two; perhaps get a fow shots, though I am not a dab at snipe shooting, not if I knows it. It is not in my line plodding through swamps and snaky ground for tho sake of rubbishing birds that you can buy for a fow sbllings. No thank you ; I am not such a fool, but I promised that old fellow Cameron—Macgrcgor—what’s his name, that I would honor nis old shanty with my pres ence for a few days. Ho looked so pleased.” “I am sure Dugald Sutherland, if that is tho name of your friend, will be highly de lighted, and as for his old shanty as you call it, Sargent told mo last night it was equal to any English country' scat —both rooms, billiard room, and every luxury. ” “ Cannot I help you or do that for you whilst you get some breakfast?” “No; 1 won’t troublo you, thanks,” said tho baronet, who was busy at a side table scaling letters. Sir Hubert’Armytogo always superintended the safe despatch of his own letters, scaling them himself with his own hand and with his own seal or signet ring, on which was en graved o curious hieroglyphic that no one j could road or understand but himself. Gustavo, who always posted the said letters, stood this morning waiting in respect ful silence near tho door, with lowered eye lids, except now and then when his master spoke, then tho courier would fix his largo eyes in wrapped attention, or curiosity, ns if trying to fathom certain looks and expres sions of his master. “Anything to bo done whilst you are away?” said Foith helping himself to a cutlet. “Nothing for you to do, thanks Forth, ex cept to make excuses for my absence; Gus tavo has his orders, then be can take a holi day if you don’t want him. ” “No: I shall go and pay my respects to tho lubly Miss Dinah. They say she 1ms two thousand a year—quite a start in life for mo if I could hub got over tho rod hair and freckles, and Parkin Pero having been a publi- i can in Van Diemen’s Land. By-thc-by, that troublo that poor little widow must have had —Mrs, Annolayo.” ! “What has sho to do with Miss] Porkin?” said tho baronet, pettishly. “Oh, nothing; but thoughts will wander away sometimes. Lot me see, wo were talking of Mrs. Annolaye—poor little woman —her ! husband shot dead without rhyme or reason. ” ] “ Poor devil; bushrangers?” said Sir | Hubert ! “Nothing of tho kind. Johnson was tolling 1 mo all about it No bushranger in the ease, no ; some cowardly cur must have owed the fellow a grudge. It was evidently done for a motive, and in such a sneaking way. ” “I hope"they’II catch tho brute. The police are after him still, and tho reward of fifteen hundrd pounds still offered, I hear they have a clue. Barker who is in tho police, told mo, and ho must bo good authority.” “D n !” said Sir Hubert, getting rod in he face. “I burnt my finger to save tho in fernal stuff dropping over tho envelope. ” Gustavo looked up, caught his master’s oyo looking at him curiously, then dropped his eyes again. “There, Gustavo, six in nil; now I’ll tako a cup of coffco, nothing more, and I’m off. Call, a cab Gustave. I’ll lip you a line old Ttfnn (to Forth j to say how I like the old covo. Don’t bother to write; I shan’t bo away long. Good-bye Forth,” and tho baronet, drank up his coffee and followed Gustavo down stairs, before his friend had time to ask if letters were to bo forwarded. “1 wonder what’s up. Has tho widow snub bed him. Most likely. How ho colored up at the name, and oven burnt his fingers. Hal ho . must bo very far,gone. I wonder what freak has taken him up tho country. Some reason, Sir Hubert Lancelot Armytogo, baronet, docs nothing without a raotivo—no, no, not half such fool as ho looks. What a thing it is to have a clover head for plotting

an £ .planning; • it would kill me though* sumoiont unto tho day is tho evil thereof. No, Sholto, my boy, we'll lot tho world gang its am gait and try to live honestly." “1 am at monsieur's service, "said Gustavo on hour or two later, bringing in letters, * I have nothing for you to do, thank you, Gustave; mane hay whilst the sun shines, llo off and enjoy youraoirwhilst you can," said horth, opening tho first note that oangio to hand. Ouatavo bowed respectfully and re tired. r J Forth rend on; My Dear Hubert,—Come and have tea with mo this afternoon, and bring your friend Mr, horth, if ho can tolerate simple afternoon tea, I wish to thank him for so kindly coming to the rescue on Saturday, In baa to,—Yours, Monday. $ . ,** ® l u ck my friend you are over the hills and far away or you would surely have got into one of your tantrums with me for not telling you about my Saturday after noon B'Offair. Nimporto, no answer needed— taut mieux. I’ll go and willingly accept some thanks from tho pretty lips of Loonoro or Violet, or by-the-bye, its Fanny, now I re member. I wonder who she is? Very pretty foot, very pretty face, good figure. I wonder what she said at seeing the flowers scattered about on tho floor. He might have had tho decency to pick them up again. I think I ought to make up for my rudeness by send ing her some—I will, there’s lots of time. I’ll stroll down the street and order some before I lunch at the club.” He looked over a few more notes and letters, answering some and putting aside others, then took up his hat and left tho hotel, sauntering down the street in a happier frame of mind than ho had felt for a long time—perhaps it was the balmy air and in vigorating freshness of tho morning—or was it having tho coast clear to do as ho chose ana to go where ho pleased that afternoon, and to see again a face that had haunted him since Saturday. Ho looked almost radiant and almost envied a little street urchin who sat whistling about in bis childish exuberance of Bpirita.’.’Ho stopped at a fashionable florist’s, a very rare emporium in or about Golds borougb, flowers being so plentiful ns almost to bo had for nothing. A superb bouquet of the choicest white exotics surrounded with a deep border of dark heliotrope, caught bis eye as a hand was putting it in tho window. (TO BE CONTINUED.)