"A RARE GOOD 'UN."

Evening Post, Volume LXXV, Issue 45, 22 February 1908, Page 10

"A RARE GOOD 'UN."

It cannot bo said that tho Duke of Devonshire was over a favourite with electors as a platform speaker. Indeed, it ia no secret (remarks tho Reader) that in his salad days tho very thought of addressing his North. Lancashire constituents used to make him positively ill for t!ays beforehand But off tho platform ho watt tho idol of the tough, long-headed farmers of that district. '■'Ov.-cr member," one of 'his farmer suppoiters oncio qxplaixied to a largo gathering of agriculturists— "owcr member can't speak worth ljstcnin' to on th' platform, but off n it he's a raro good 'un. Up can tell ta' th' odd load, as wpII a3 I con mesel 1 , hoo much it'll tek to moock a'lorlyacre field.'*

Mis Incomplete Momance, They wero sitting on the verandah of the largest hotel at The Pines, in tho twilight of a summer evening, enjoying themselvos in that lazy, companionable way which is possible when two friends understand each other perfectly. The evening was unusually, quiet, oven for this quiet little Bummer retreat ; tho stillness broken only by tho clamour of childish voices playing somewhere in tho distance. Suddenly, the shriek of the incoming passenger train was heard, and, as if x by magic, tho place was transformed into a hive of activity ; for this waß onc> of th'i events of the day, when old and young felt called upon to go to the rustic station to welcome husbands, brothers, sweethearts, and friends who had been away in tho neighbouring city during tho day, looking after business interests The increased activity served to rouso the friends from the reverie into which they had fallen. "Tom," began tho younger man, "did you over have anything remind you of something else, without being able to see any connection between these two things'?" The other regarded him laughingly. "Accept my congratulations on the profound wisdom of that remark." Then, aside, "I'm afraid it's the young moon over there gone to his head; it may bo his extreme youth, or again, it, might be the atmosphere. In that case, I think I had bettor seek tho shelter of my own room ; it might bo infectious," and Tom Grayson niado as if to riso, and then sank back laughing, into his chair. "Maybe it's tho atmosphere, but I'm inclined to think it was the whistle on the evening passenger ; it was precisely the same kind" ; and Wcstbtook gazed dreamily across the intervening valley to tho hills, reflecting the subdued raj's of the sun's light, as it sank behind a dark cloud which portended a gloomy day on tho morrow. "Here, old man, como out of it," commanded Grayson quizzically. "Tho expression on your face suggests a trance, or an inspiration. If I didn't consider you immune, I would swear that you were in love." Wostbrook's serious mood was not to bo thus lightly dispelled, and seeing this Grayson adapted himself to his friend's' humour. "Go on, Charlie; it's got to be told,, and I'm a good listener," and he laid his hand with affectionate . warmth on Wasfcbrook'e shoulder. This was all the encouragement he needed. "It happened," he began, "at the timo of tho G.A.R. Encampment at Chicago, three or four years ago. I passedthrough there on my way home from the West. All the hotels were full, so I didn't stop over, but took an evening train out f&r homo. I "found every coach full to overflowing, many excursionists being on their way homo. I passed through one after another, till, finally, at the rear of the train, I found a 6eat facing the half-seat at tho end of the coach, both of them unoccupied. I adjusted myself and my grips, and was rovelling in the unexpected luxury of two whole seats, for,' being unable to get a bunk in the sleoper, I know I could be reasonably comfortable, anyway. "Suddenly, my attention was drawn to a young woman who had come tho full length of tho car, and had paused uncertainly beside the half-seat opposite me. At once; I proffered half tho seat I occupied, but instead, she dropped into"the half -seat. • At her side, evidently her escort, was a man who, because of his striking contrast' to his companion, caught my attention at once. Ho was the best typo of villain I have over Been. Looking again at tho young wowoman, •! was struck by her uncommon loveliness and evident distress. Tho sweet innocence of her face, in contrast to tho man, excited my curiosity, and 1 fell to studying tho two from' beneath the brim of my hat. He kept talking to her in an oily tono, which was nauseating to me, and apparently a sourco of distross to her, for she answered only in monosyllablos or not at all, while her troubled glance swept here and there as if seeking a means of escape. I was the only one near enough to hear what was said, and all at once the true state 6f affairs flashed upon mo. "Ho was taking advantage of her defenceless position, judging rightly that sho was too timid to expose htm and bo attract attention to herself. Presently sho turned away from him where ho stood over her with a proprietary air, and gazed persistently through the window into tho darkness, ignoring the questions and remarks which ho directed to her. 1 caught tho glimmor of tears in her eyes. At tho risk of committing an unpardonable blunder, but unable to endure ' it iany longer, I leaned forward. 'Pardon mo, 1 I said, 'but is that fellow annoying you?' "Sho gave -nib a grateful look. '1 havo never seen him before,' sho ans. wcred. t "The 'follow' in question glared at mo malignantly for a second, then, turning to her with a tialf -mocking smile and a profound bow, said, 'I see that you have found another friend, sq I will ask you to excuse me.' "1 wanted to choko him for his ugly insinuation, but for hor sake I had to ignore it. Sho sank into the 6oat with a murmured '(hank you' on her lips, and we rode in silence till we wore well out of the city. Tho othor passengers were settling themselves to got what comfort they might out of the long night's journey. She, alone, sat bolt upright in the most uncomfortable- seat in tho coach> whilo I had a wide, comfortable seat to myself. At length, at tho risk of displeasing her, I told hor she must oxchango seats with me. At first sho refused, but I insisted, and sho smiled as sho said demurely, 'I'll not exchange, bub suppose I share your seat with you. I think that would be better.' "I thought so, too, but hadn't dared to suggost it, with tho memory of the other fellow still fresh in my mind. After taking tho seat by my side, she sat in stony eilonco, with her eyes riveted against the window-pane, though I felt, instinctively, I suppose, that sho wished to explain soino things to mo. Finally, she turnod abruptly .and began in a sweetly hesitating manner to explain how sho happened to be travelling alone. I was more impressed <vith the manner of tho telling that what sho actually paid, but, as I remember, she had intended visiting friends in Chicago, en routo from Milwaukee, but had arrived unexpectedly, only to find them out of tho city. The hotels were full, and there was nothing to do but continue her journey by night. Tho stranger had accosted her as sho was making her way to tho train, and she flurried aboard, only to find that he hud followed her. I don't know what I should have dono without your help.,' sho added with a bhuddcr. " 'I am treating you n.s I would want some fellow to treat my own sister,) similarly placed,' I responded, right gallantly ; and I realised that I had said the right thing, for sho gave me a grateful smile, which established us on a friendly footing at once. "Sho did very little of tho talking, but I told her everything, including my family history, my work, ray colloge ways, .even my hopes and aspirations ; everything tfiat any othor man is likely to tell when inspired by tho sympathy and tact of a lovely woman ; for fche \vas beautiful. There was an.- inexpressible charm to me in piquant features,

the demure expression and ' the wholesome good cheer revealed in every line of her face. "Tho other passengers wore dozing in their scats, while wo talked on and on, until suddenly I realised how tired she must be. My conscience smote mo, and I insisted that she must try to rest. Against hor protest that she was not tired, I improvised a pillow from my top-coat, and arranged it comfortably for her. She declared that she meant to remain wide awake, but presently I had the satisfaction of seeing her eyelids droop and quiver, and finally close, as she sank to sleep like a tired child. "I do not know how long I sat there, studying her face, but 1 know that every line was graven indelibly in my mind. I fell into a reverie, dreaming of the days to come ; and I knew not how it was, but always her face was before me, sometimes as if to mock, and again filled with the ineffable tenderness of which it was capable. It seemed impossible that in a short timo our lives, thus brought together by accident, were to be severed ruthlessly. Her head slipped gradually from the rude pillow I had made for her, until it rested lightly against my shoulder. I scarcely dared to breathe, for fear of waking her and dispelling my illusion. I had the sensation that, somehow, the unvarying rumble and roar of the train must go on, and on till we two we ushered at last into eternity together. "I was rudely brought back to the things of earth, however. A series of nasal disturbances from a sleeping passenger two seats away from us culminated in a loud snort which roused his' follow passengers as well as himself. My little friend raised her head and smiled at me, without seeming to realise her attitude. She was greatly rested, she declared, and was in the best of spirits. I, on the other hand, was unaccountably depressed. To be roused from such a reverie was, in itself, bad enough ; and on consulting my watch I found that we were but a short distance out from the city which moaut the parting of the ways for us. She would board her train and go her way, while I should linger in her memory, if at all, merely as a nameless stranger who had shown her a kindness which she appreciated, but that would be all. x If I had not known her so well in those few hours, I might have been guilty of trying to learn hor name and home. As it was, I knew that no power on earth could induce her to disclqso a single clue to her identity. 'Fate may be kind,' sho faltered, 'and we may meet again. If not, I couldn't endure the thought that our meeting had been just an ordinary chance flirtation ; even at the best, you must admit it is a little irregular.' i " 'But perfectly justifiable," I protested, I still had a little regard for tho conventional things of life. "I respected her all tho more for her attitudo; and yet I felt that I would give the little all I possessed in the world if I but knew her name. I would takb chances on searching city directories, till I found her ; for isho had not even told mo her destination. "I had told her something of my work as an illustrator, and , all at once tho forlorn hope came to mo that if— if, for any reason, she should change her present attitude, I might easily be found. I sketched a bit of scenery I had described to Jher earlier in ihe evening ; then I made a rough sketch of the fellow who had annoyed her, and on each. I placed my initials conspicuously. ■ Last of all, I quoted a love sonnet of mine which had appeared in a recent issue of a magazine. "'I never uso a norn de plume,' I told her with my lips, while my heart said to her, 'If you wish to know my name, you will find ty attached to that poem." * "I helped Her aboard her train at four o'clock that morning. She extended, her nand with a frank winning smile, as she bade me good-bye, returned and rushed headlong for- the* door;"rtpt "daring" to trust myself furthor s■'5 ■' boarded my" train and finished my journey, my mind in a perfect chaos and an aching sense of depression in my. heart. For days, I . found myself recalling her face, her,gestures, even the tones of her voice ; '^anfl since, to this day, though I consider 'myself a rational being, in every crowd I find myself looking for one face and 1 listening for the sound of one voice ; so, until I find^ her, my one romance will remain incomplete. He pausod with a far-away, wistful look. "Grayson," he resumed, "if I could only find her !" During his 1 impassioned recita] Grayson's face was an interesting study. At its close he rose abruptly. "Come to my room with me ; " he said, as he led tho way. He took from the table a late magazine, which he opened and handed to Westbrook. "I read that little story, and am struck with the similarity between it and the one you have just told me," ho said. Woslbrook took the magazine and road a few lines listlessly. Suddenly he gave an exclamation, and then read on breathlessly to iho closo. "What do you make of It?" be demanded, as ho laid the book down. "That is my story. I- could swear to it. Even tlie illustrations are mine.' 1 ! "I hardly know," Grayson answered. "Tho author, Catherine Allen, is an old and very dear friend of mine, who has been doing some splendid literary work of late." He considered it unnecessary to state just tho degree of warmth thai friendship had attained. The memory of it was still too sacred to Share, "even with his dearest friend. "Where does she live?" was Westbrook's next question. He waited only long enough for a, r&. ply, and then hurried to his room wi'h one fixed purpose in mind : he was going South ; to her home ! Tho thought thrilled him that she might have written this, thinging it would reach him. Then he romembered that she was not a woman who was likely to do such a thing. Fifteen minutes later, cvlien lie opened the door rather sheepishly, in rfesponso to Grayson's imperative knock, he was pushed unceremoniously into the room and informed iv an awe-stricken voices that Miss Allen had arrived at The Pines. "Jove ! It's an uncanny piece of business. Do you know, she canW on the very train that set your romantic soul to reviewing tho past. She is not a spirit, either ; but a very nnich alive young woman, ■who, by tho way, always impressed mo as being abundantly ablo to take care of herself. I warn you, in the face of your supposed prior claims, that our friendship is going to bo put to tho tost ; and hero's surceso to the winner!" Grayson shook West--brook's hand in his, and was wringing it with unwonted fervour. Wostbrook regarded his friend with speechless amazement. "There's some mistake," at last ht> declared. "Things might happon so in a' novel, if it were cheap enough; but not -in real life." "Very well ; have your own way ; but I was good-natured enough to tell her that I had a friend here, and she is waiting below even now, to meet him. Of course, if you prefer to remain hore moping " Westbrook was impatiently making toward the door, unmindful of his friend's bantering. Together, they descended tho stairs and entered the parlours. "Prepare for the shock," whispered Grayson, nerving himself for the trying ordeal. , The introduction over, Westbrook could never recall what ho said to her in the bitterness of his disappointment: for the beautiful young woman who rose to meet him was an utter stringer. Tho thought df the story ho had just lead kept surging uppermost in his mind, and

presently he found himself referring 1 to it. \ < "Do you icnow," she confided, with an odd little laugh, "that was bttsed oh an actual experience of my sister a few years ago. Sho told me only recently, and 111 1 wove it into the Btory without her knowledge, never dreaming she would mind. Oh, but there was a scene when it appeared, and she recognised it as her own. She felt that if it should by any chance fall into the hands ' of that youpg man, he might regard it as an unmaidenjy appeal to him." ' / The effect of her explanation on both men may be imagined. Westbrook wanted to shout aloud for joy.', ' lie wanted to demand of her the thereabouts of that_ sistev. All the impatience and longing of the past Were concentrated in that moment. ' Grayson felt the self-imposed burden of friendly obligation lift from his shoulders. "Ah, she is coming down, at last." This commonplace remark by Miss Allen brougnt them both back to tho realities. "I believe I hadn't told you," sho said, innocently, "my sister is with me."— Erschel Records, in the National Magazine.