Allanson's Little Woman. A novel

Front matter

THE "GREENBACK SERIES" POPULAR 3/6 NOVELS. By AUTHORS OF THE DAY. (Crown Svo, Cloth.) Uniform with "Allanson's Little Woman." 1. LOUIS DRAYCOTT. By Mrs. Leith Adams. 2nd Edition. 2. GEOFFREY STIRLING. By Mrs. Leith Adams. 5th Edition. 3. BONNIE KATE. By Mrs. Leith Adams. and Edition. 4. A NEW OTHELLO. By Hon. Iza Duffus Hardy, and Ed. 5. THE MAID OF LONDON BRIDGE. By Somerville Gibney. 3rd Edition. 6. EVELINE WELLWOOD. By Major Norris Paul, and Ed. 7. OLD LATTIMER'S LEGACY. By J. S. Fletcher, and Ed. 8. THAT LITTLE GIRL. By Curtis Yorke. 5th Edition. 9. DUDLEY. By Curtis Yorke. 4th Edition. 10. THE WILD RUTHVENS. By Curtis Yorke. 5th Edition. 11. THE BROWN PORTMANTEAU, and other Stories. By Curtis Yorke. and Edition. 12. HUSH ! By Curtis Yorke. 4th Edition. 13. ONCE I By Curtis Yorke. and Edition. 14.

A ROMANCE OF MODERN LONDON. By Curtis Yorke. 3rd Edition. 15. HIS HEART TO WIN. By Curtis Yorke. and Edition. 16. DARRELL CHEVASNEY. By Curtis Yorke. 17. BETWEEN THE SILENCES. By Curtis Yorke. 18. THE PEYTON ROMANCE. By Mrs. Leith Adams. 3rd Ed. 19. THE GOLDEN MILESTONE. By Scott Graham. 3rd Ed. 10. A RECORD OF DISCORDS. By Curtis Yorke. and Edition. 21. "CHERRY RIPE!" By Helen Mathers. 8th Edition. 22. STORY OF A SIN. By Helen Mathers. 5th Edition. 23. EYRE'S ACQUITTAL. (Sequel.) By Helen Mathers. 4th Ed. 24. JOCK O' HAZELGREEN. By Helen Mathers. 4th Ed. 2;. MY LADY GREEN SLEEVES. By Helen Mathers. 6th Ed. 26. FOUND OUT. Bv Helen Mathers. 103rd Thousand. 27. THE MEDLICOTTS. By Curtis Yorke. 2nd Edition. 28. THE HEART OF A MYSTERY. By T. W. Speight. 29. MAN PROPOSES. By Mrs. A. Phillips, and Edition. 30.

THE LAST OF __HE HADDONS. By Mrs. E. Newman. 31. ALLANSON'S LITTLE WOMAN. By Eastwood Kidson. 32. LINDSW'S GIRL. By Mrs. Herbert Martin, and Edition. 33. WRONGLY CONDEMNED. By Mrs. Bagot Harte, Author of " Bianca," Sec. 34. THE THIRTEENTH BRYDAIN. By Margaret Moule, Author of "Wingrove's Ways," "Dick's Wife," "Miss Maidment," &c. 35. THROUGH ANOTHER MAN'S EYES. By Eleanor Holmes 36. MRS. WYLDE. By Linda Gardiner. 37. A PRINCE OF COMO. By E. M. Daw. and Edition; 38. RUTH FARMER. By Agnes Marchbank. {Thousand 39- THE LOVELY MALINCOURT. By Helen Mathers. _* ._-_4 4o. A GARRISON ROMANCE. By Mrs. Leith Adams, vd Ed 41. HARUM SCARUM. Bv Esme Stuart. 42. A BOLT FROM THE BLUE. Bv Scott Graham. Shortly 43. IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT. By T. W. Speight. Shortly OTHERS IN PREPARATION. LONDON': JARROLD <_-• SONS, 10 and 11, Warwick Lane, E.C. A NOVEL BY EASTWOOD KIDSON SANS PEUR ET SANS REPR.OCHE LONDON: JARROLD & SONS 10 & 11, WARWICK LANE, E.C. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED • * ' l897 CONTENTS.

Chapter I. Swellbourne-on-sea

"'T'HAT Tom Waterton is a literal pest, Dad." 1 "The pestilence that walketh by noonday, little woman? He shall be sprinkled with disinfectant. A pestiferous son-in-law would be more than I could bear." " Don't, Daddy ! Your feeble witticisms make me feel sorry for you. Moreover, you know he will never be your son-in law, unless you purpose marrying again and having another daughter." " I must confess it smacked somewhat of prospective relationship, coming to see the future father-in-law off by train ! " " You infatuated old darling ! Do you suppose he came to see you off?" " Ha, ha, ha ! There I have you on the hip. Two of us were going by train. Admitted he did not come to see me cff by train : ergo, he came to see you off by train." "No, you don't have me on the hip, whatever that may mean.

Admitted he did come to see me off, it was only his brotherly duty so to do." Victor Norbury merely smiled, and continued smoking his cigar, whilst Alice lapsed into "maiden meditation fancy free," and both gazed on the quiet sea — father and daughter — happy ALLANSON'S LLTTLE WOMAN. 14 and contented in each other's presence, and unrestrained as brother and sister. Alice was now eighteen, and, since her mother's death, she and her father had been constant companions. When that sad bereavement occurred, she had implored not to be sent away to school. Victor, just as loth to part with his little motherless girl, had consulted Mrs. Waterton — the wife of a whilom schoolmate of his — whose daughters were instructed at home by a governess. Hence, arrangements were made for Alice to spend her days with Mrs. Waterton's family, and her evenings and all holiday times with her father.

Ten years had elapsed since then, and Alice was no longer a child, and Tom Waterton had discovered that his interest in her was something more than brotherly. Resuming the conversation naturally, as if no break of half an-hour's silence had intervened, Victor observed, "You must admit, little woman, that Tom's adhesive qualities exceed those of a brother." " Must ? What, make admissions on compulsion ? Never ! " " Well, then, to humour your coy reticence, the admissions shall come from me. In my opinion, Tom is " " Oh, my dear Dad ! if you knew how uninteresting Tom Waterton is to me, you would spare me the weariness of listen ing. Why, I have seen him grow up from a mischievous, disagreeable boy, to a vapid, unheroic hobble-de-hoy. I have seen him sent to bed for stupid misconduct by his mother, and heard him howling at the correction of his father."

"Which has been the fate of all boys, from Alexander the Great to the admirable Crichton." " Could such an ordinary boy as Tom Waterton, think you, develop into an admirable Crichton ? Impossible ! Don't make me also hate him." " But he is a gentleman ! " persisted Victor, shaking with laughter. "He is not a hero, and never will be — to me," retorted Alice, rising from her seat. S WELLBO URNE- ON-SEA. 15 When Mr. Norbury returned with his daughter to their hotel, he observed, smoking his cigar in the porch, a fine, military-looking young fellow, whose features, if not familiar to him, suggested some other face which memory could not for the moment recall. He allowed Alice to enter and proceed to her room, and, lingering at the doorway, he flung away the end of his cigar and, taking another from his case, politely asked the stranger for a light.

This serving for an introduc tion, they were soon engaged in so friendly a conversation that it resulted in an exchange of cards. " Frank Hayn ! " mused Victor aloud, " but, no, it cannot be lieutenant " "Lieutenant Frank Hayn — now Captain Hayn? My father ! " interrupted the young man. " Why, of course ! it must be twenty years or more " — rather absently from Victor; then, suddenly taking the stranger's hand, " My dear boy ! You are the son of my sometime dearest friend." " Rather a disparity in years, I should imagine, for a friendship between you and the governor twenty years ago." Victor, who was remarkably young-looking, laughed immensely; but was prevented from a disclaimer by the entrance of a young lady to whom Frank Hayn, " Well, Lizzie ! — Mr. Norbury — my sister." Victor's twenty years of manhood slipped from his con sciousness, as he responded to this introduction.

He saw nothing but the type of perfect youthfulness in the graceful bearing and noticeable features of Miss Hayn, which, by some hypnotic influence of her eyes, transmitted the illusion thereof to his own personality. Despite the poetry of grief and the sincerest intentions of constancy, a decade of years will obliterate the influence of the best-beloved dead, and this goes without apology, in the inevitable order of things. Hence, Victor's middle age was not less capable of love at first sight than his youth had been, and his middle-aged love had all the impatient passion, if not the worshipful ardour of his youth. As their friendship ripened, he invited Frank to accompany Alice and himself in their boating and driving excursions, always remembering, as a second thought, that perhaps his sister might not object to come with them, for the mutual companionship of the two girls.

It is a noteworthy phenomenon, that the girls seldom had a chance of testing so desirable a companionship. Miss Hayn usually fell to Victor's lot, and Alice to Frank's— notably in driving. Frank, being a good whip, invariably took the reins, assisting Alice, out of compliment, to the front seat, and thus the alternative provided Victor with the coveted tete-a-tete in the back seat. One perfect spring day they were bowling along the Marine Parade, which is the principal feature of Swellbourne-on-Sea. Victor was as radiant and self-satisfied as if the godhead of youth had never been deposed, whilst Lizzie's eyes were turned on sunny sea and sky, filled with kindred sunshine. Men, practically, have no individual consciousness of unfitness for the privileges of youth so long as the tent-pegs of life remain firm.

During a moment or two of silence, Victor, watching Miss Hayn's look of culture and the interested expression with which she gazed on the sea, curiously wondered was she revolving his last remark in her mind, or was she actually as imaginative and poetical as she looked; perhaps conjuring up remote pictures of the " foam of perilous seas in Faery lands forlorn." As after circumstances indicated, her probable thought at that moment was, " I wonder, will Edwin turn up to-day." " I will not even hazard the proverbial penny for your thoughts," said he, breaking the silence, " for I can read them." " What are they ? " she asked, without altering her averted gaze ; but, at the same time, confiding an arch smile to the discreet distance before her. S WELLBO URNE- ON-SEA. 17 " ' Ah, what pleasant visions haunt me, As I gaze upon the sea.

All the old romantic legends, All my dreams come back to me.' ': She laughed a musical laugh of almost childish reassurance which threw Victor back on his first conjecture, as she said, " Wrong ! quite wrong ! I knew you were no thought reader, and I am sure I never think poetry, for I don't even read it." " Don't read poetry ! " with some expression of surprise, and, after a pause, " True, you have no need." "Why?" " You are a poem yourself." " If that is' true, neither do you read poetry, or rather you read it amiss." Victor was not inordinately given to the study of poetry ; but, as he looked on the harmony of the features now turned towards him, he said, with enthusiasm, " I read poetry not only with interest, but with worshipful appreciation." The faintest suspicion of a blush came into Miss Hayn's face as she said, " Still I fear you are a superficial reader, for you say I am a poem, and yet you cannot even read the thoughts contained in the poem."

" Ah ! you are a lyric poem, and the best lyric poems entrance one so much by their rhythm and music, that one forgets to analyse the thoughts contained therein. As, when listening to a nightingale, who would say, ' What is the meaning of the song.' " " It is but a shallow compliment, or, rather, the poem or the nightingale (for I am not clear about the thing you want to compliment) must be shallow if it is without meaning." Passion is not humourous, as a rule, and Victor continued, blindly regardless of Miss Hayn's banter. B "Mere compliment would be shallow; but truth is self evident without parade of reasons. For example, when one falls in love, logical reasons for the malady can never be adduced, and, if the beloved one should ask a thousand times, ' Why do you love me ? ' the only answer given a thousand times would still be, ' Because I love you.' " Victor put such personal earnestness into these last words, as he gazed in Miss Hayn's face, that she blushed so apparently as to have caused a painful embarrassment, had not a little episode occurred at the moment.

" Oh," she cried with sudden interest, " There is Teddy ! " and the carriage stopped just as Victor observed a fairly good looking young man approach, smiling familiarly whilst he raised his hat, and whom Miss Hayn introduced as Lieuten ant Morley. After some friendly chat, and a promise from this young man to join them at the hotel, the carriage moved on again. Instantly Frank turned round and, leaning over, asked, " Did Lizzie introduce you to her swain elect, Mr. Norbury?" For a time there was silence ; but, before reaching the hotel, Victor asked, with attempted nonchalance, " Are you engaged then, Miss Hayn ? " " It is probable," she replied, " if you were to ask Lieu tenant Morley that question, he might reply in the affirmative." Later in the day Mr. Norbury and his daughter were sauntering along the parade with their faces towards the coral flushed sunset.

Both were silent, and, though such a silence between father and daughter usually denoted a most loving communion, yet now their thoughts were widely dissimilar. Alice's face was beaming with youthful reliance on the future, and her eyes were radiant with youth's glorious possibilities. Had her thoughts found utterance, they might have culminated in some such sibylline expression as, " Oh, thou dawn beyond to-morrow ! " pregnant, no doubt to herself, with more glorious things than had ever happened to anyone else, but having some obstacles to a lucid explanation for the critical ear. WELLBOURNE-ON-SExA. 19 Youth is always going to have a more godlike future than has been given individual humanity to achieve. On the other hand, Victor was tracing back, year by year, his dream of the past from which he had almost been severed by forgetfulness.

The memory of his dead wife became tenderly vivid, and he perceived, with sudden force, that the dream had been real. How well he remembered that dismal January day "Which gave His soul's best part for ever to the grave." As they were returning in the gloomy coach from the cemetery, poor little Alice's sobs, as she nestled in his lap, made him for a time forget his own grief in his attempts to console her. " What will poor mamma do if she awakes and finds they have shut her up in a coffin ? " she asked brokenly amidst her sobs. This was a shock he had not calculated upon, and it was with difficulty he could put the truth in such a way as to reassure her; but, with a sort of instinctive unconsciousness, it became settled in his mind from that moment, that he would never marry again, but devote his life to the care of his motherless child.

In those early days of bereavement it was his custom, after breakfasting with Alice, to see her to the garden entrance of Mrs. Waterton's, where she watched him until out of sight, with tear-filling eyes and throwing many kisses, as on sine mornings he walked to his office of the Weekly Analyst. He also remembered, with something of the olden heart-pang, how, on reaching about midway of his morning walk, he heard little feet quickly pattering behind, and looking round he saw his motherless darling, out of breath, following him. " Oh, I couldn't help it, Daddy ! " she pleaded. " But, my poor little woman, what is the matter ? Why did you come after me ? " " I don't know, Daddy, I felt I must come to you ! " This was terribly distressing. It was hard for him to swallow down the sobs, as he took her back in a cab and assured her he would be with her again in a few hours.

Taking her into the house, he left her without mentioning the circumstance to Mrs. Waterton. And he had never failed in his devotion to her since then. And he had never forgotten his unuttered vow until this Circe of the moment had bewitched him ; but the spell was broken. "Ah ! " he mused aloud. " I have had my innings.'' "What did you say, Dad?" He replied with a melancholy little laugh, " Nothing, little woman ! I was only thinking it is my happiness to live life over again in you. I shall be a sort of paternal Boswell to you, taking notes mentally of all your sayings and doings, if I don't write the story of your life."

Chapter II. Two Phases Of The Heroic

MR. NORBURY was almost painfully sensitive to everything touching his daughter's happiness, and, since he discovered it was a source of annoyance, he resolved to repress his inclinations to favour Tom Waterton's cause in his conversations with her. Tom was a great favourite of his, being an unassuming manly young fellow, with some pretensions also to good looks. And now he began to be anxious about his own infatuation of the moment, which had thrown her into Frank Hayn's company. Literally he knew nothing about him, good or bad, except that he came of a good stock. Meanwhile Frank was improving his opportunities of cultivating their society. There was this in his favour, in Victor's eyes, that he never seemed desirous of spiriting Alice away alone ; but always worded his invitations so as to include her father.

They were sauntering on the parade one morning at high tide, with a pretty rough sea tumbling over the wooden breakwaters, and dashing, not infrequently, up the sea-wall to break in fountain-like spray on incautious promenaders who ventured too near. Frank's big Newfoundland was with them, and in a thoughtless moment he threw his cane out to sea. Without hesitation the dog jumped in, and regained it ; but, swimming back, he got too near a wooden breakwater, against which he was dashed somewhat roughly. Striving to recover himself, he got his forepaw entangled in the woodwork, and strove in vain to extricate himself. Whereupon he set up one piteous howl, and resigned himself to his fate. Frank saw in a moment his favourite was doomed unless immediately rescued, and, looking about and seeing no likely help, he threw off his coat and boots, and plunged in before anyone suspected his intentions.

" What madness ! " exclaimed several ; but Frank was a strong swimmer, and taking his opportunity, as he approached the dog, permitted the breakers to go over his head, and then making a sudden dash for, seized the top of the breakwater before another should fling him at it. With some difficulty he released the poor brute's paw, and then sprang as far as he could out towards the open sea. By this time some boatmen had arrived, and putting out from the landing-place, took him up in a boat ; for it was hazardous to attempt swimming through the rough surf. All this, which can be said in so few words, took some considerable time in the performance, during which Alice was in a state of piteous excitement. Every now and then she gripped her father's arm in a way that made him wince, but which he bore like a Spartan, and once some words slipped from her unconsciously, sounding very much like, " Oh, poor Frank !

" which made him wince still more. When the dog was released, a subdued murmur of applause burst from the crowd of spectators, and when Frank was taken up in the boat, a prolonged cheer reached him, and set the dog barking in joyous response. Alice, on both these occasions, was very nearly following Tom Waterton's example, when under the correction of his father, in the matter of howling. She was not of the fainting persuasion, but she had a narrow escape from hysteria, and, in a voice which was a tremulous compromise between a laugh and a sob, she said, "Was it not heroic?" Meantime, Frank was approaching them, looking more like a well-soaked seal than a superfine hero ; but, in Alice's eyes, he was not a whit less glorious than Lancelot or the mythical St. George. The more mythical the better, since some ill natured persons (she was sure they were only persons) standing near, said it was fool-hardy, to say the least of it.

As Frank TWO FHASES OF THE HEROIC. 23 approached still nearer, somewhat abashed by the lane of spectators which was made for him on landing, Alice perceived a fine crimson streak which trickled, diluted with salt-water, down his somewhat thickset bronzed neck, from a concealed wound on his head. Had fainting been a trick of hers, this would have been her time, and indeed, at sight of his, the blood forsook her own lips and face as she exclaimed, " Oh, Dad ! he is hurt," in a voice of such sweet distress, which Frank overheard with secret gratification, though he could perceive it was not intended for his ear. Victor made his way up to him, and questioned him as to the extent of his hurt ; but he replied, it must be very trifling, as he had not himself perceived it. In compliance with Victor's advice, he hastened back to the hotel to have a warm bath before joining them at luncheon.

They were a merry company that afternoon, in a private room of the hotel, at the open windows of which they could look upon the sea, or, in close proximity, the men could lounge, smoking their cigars on the balcony. With much happy laughter and good-humoured banter, Frank's exploit of the morning was discussed. " There is no doubt," said Victor, " you are enrolled by the townsfolk, already, in their chronicle of heroes." The rescued Newfoundland was in their midst, and Alice, holding an impressive finger before his blinking eyes, said, " Are you grateful, Mister Nero, that your master risked his own life to save yours ? " "Do not reproach the poor brute, Miss Norbury," from Edwin Morley. " I have seen Frank plunge in a rougher sea for his own pleasure." Frank Hayn flushed just half a shade through his bronzed skin, and responded, with a laugh, " Morley is quite right, there is nothing wonderful about it I am a born swimmer."

Hearing his master's voice, the dog gave a joyous bark, whereupon Alice placed her hand caressingly on his head, and said, " Your remark is just, Nero. It was a deed of heroism." " Conceptions of the heroic are varied," put in Victor, " but I am also of Nero's opinion." " It was certainly plucky ! " commented Frank's sister. " Oh, come now," remonstrated Frank, " don't make me feel like a cad. Now, shall I give you my picture of a hero ? " Again the dog barked, looking joyously in his master's face. Alice, the self-constituted dog's interpreter, was going to speak, when Morley interposed with, "That pig-headed dog actually says, 'show us your own portrait, then.'" Alice would not join in the laughter caused by Morley's senseless remark, and began to have serious misgivings about his agreeableness.

As soon as Frank gained their attention he said, " There is a sort of passive heroism which is far greater, in my opinion, than any active daring. I will give you an instance of this sort which impressed itself on my memory when I was at school, none the less because it reflected considerable dis credit on myself. (This Alice negatived, unobserved, by a shake of the head.) The master's son was as disagreeable a little brute as ever unfitly survived the diseases incident to childhood. Every boy in the school hated him most religiously, and with me the hate amounted to loathing. It happened, one hot summer's day, some half-dozen of us had been bathing in a secluded bend of the river which flows adjacent to the school. I and a boy, who was known to us by the nickname of Phib, because we reckoned him almost amphibious, were dressing on the river bank.

Young Hateful was amusing himself immediately in front of us, and close to the edge of the stream, by throwing clods of dirt at the other boys who were still in the water. Some mischievous devil tempted me, and I gave him a push, and he went headlong into the deepest hole of the river. We were both standing close together, and it was done so instantaneously that no one could have said positively how it occurred. Without a moment's thought both of us plunged in TWO PHASES OF THE HEROIC. 25 after him ; but the hole was a deep and treacherous one, such as is often found in the outside bend of a river, and we both arose to the surface again without finding him. Strange, he had not once floated to the top, even if he had made up his mind to drowning ultimately. We afterwards discovered that the young imp had got the school-clock leaden weights in his trousers pockets for some malicious purpose or other.

This time Phib took a more determined dive than before, and reached the slimy bottom, from whence he brought the cub in a state of insensibility. We were in a terrible way, I can tell you, and whilst we were rubbing and pounding and standing him on his head to fetch the river out of his stomach, the master himself appeared. The boy was coming round, as was evident from the sighs he gave vent to ; but his father became almost frantic, bemoaning his son as one drowned. At length, when he had given unmistakeable signs of returning life, followed by a disgorgement of a portion of the river, the father began to be a little hopeful, and looking at me, he asked in a sobbing voice, ' How did it happen ? ' " ' Why, you see, sir, Felix was throwing mud at the boys in the river, and overbalanced himself, and fell in,' saying which I glanced at Phib, who opened his eyes wide, and positively blushed at the falsehood I had told.

Now, it is always a point of honour with boys — first of all, of course, to tell the truth — but, if by inadvertence or being unprepared for a sudden question, veracity has been in some measure economised, to follow at all risks the time-honoured recommendation to ' tell a lie and stick to it.' " No sooner had the boy recovered complete consciousness, than he commenced howling at the knowledge of what he had undergone. " ' My poor boy ! ' sobbed his father, ' compose yourself. Your are restored to us, dear boy, and you might have been drowned you know.' " ' y — yes, I know I might, and th — then I know who'd have been hung for it.' " ' Why, how did it happen, Felix ? ' " ' It was T — Tom Waterton pushed me in.' " Victor Norbury and his daughter exchanged glances of surprise and interrogation, but widely varying in tone, to borrow a musical expression.

" ' What ? ' roared the master. ' Waterton, is this true ? ' "But Phib remained silent, and I ventured to remark, ' Waterton rescued him, sir, at the risk of his own life.' " ' Hold your tongue, sir ! I am speaking to Waterton. Is this true, sir, I ask, or did my son overbalance himself whilst playfully throwing soil into the river ? ' " ' Oh, what a crammer ! ' interrupted sweet Felix. ' Water ton was standing close behind me, and pushed me in on purpose, with his hand.' " ' Waterton, I ask again, did my son overbalance and fall in by accident ? ' " ' No, sir,' answered Tom, looking on the ground, and then closed his lips resolutely, as who should say, ' You shall get no more out of me.' " ' If you had not rescued my son (no doubt instigated by the remorse of a would-be murderer's conscience) I would have expelled you at once from the school ; but I shall feel it my duty to place you in disgrace for the remainder of the term.

In the meantime, return at once indoors, and transcribe the entire Book of Proverbs, which imposition you shall repeat on every holiday during the remainder of the term. Probably, by so doing, you may be induced to ponder and lay to heart those words of wisdom and reproof, which should lead you to a genuine repentance for your crime. I will presently consider what further punishment will be necessary.' "I felt an impulse, of course, to tell the truth, but Tom started back to school without a word, and the whelp recom menced howling, and the parent resumed his blubbering, and so I put off till a more convenient season, which never came. " I tried to ease my conscience by offering to assist Tom at his impositions, which assistance he declined. Then I vowed TWO PHASES OF THE HEROIC. 27 I would befriend him in every possible way, and on sundry occasions I offered him certain little comestible luxuries from my own private stores, which he also politely rejected.

The master had fulfilled his threat of further punishment by curtailing the pleasures of the table to him ; a curtailment which an epicure might have thought impossible. My friendly overtures, how ever, were always courteously repulsed by Tom, notwithstanding he never ventured an opinion on my conduct. You will scarcely believe it possible, that by degrees, I began to resent his noble conduct as priggish, and almost considered myself the person aggrieved, because he never would discuss the matter with me. Of course, I never think of Tom now except as a magnificent hero, and of myself — well the less said the better." "Of course," commented Morley, "that good young man, beloved of the gods, was taken early out of this life ? " " No ! Tom Waterton is very much alive at present, I believe, and a better fellow I don't know ; but he would scarcely strike you as filling the role of the good young man," and Frank laughed heartily at the thought.