CHAPTER XXIV.

Once more the Hildreth household was united, if such a thing as union could be possible, among so many diverse elements.

Isabelle's chill hauteur had increased with the years and a peevish discontent was carving indelible lines upon her face which was rapidly losing its delicate contour and bloom. Marion's pink and white beauty was at its zenith, and the social attentions she was beginning to receive only served to render her elder sister more than ever irritable and envious. Louis was his old nonchalant self, careless and listless, with an ever deepening expression of ennui which was pitiful in one so young. His European travels had not improved him, in Evadne's opinion.

She saw but little of her cousins. They passed their days in pleasure, she in work; but Marion, in her rare moments of reflection, as she thought of the strangely peaceful face of the young nurse, wondered sadly whether Evadne had not chosen the better part after all.

"Oh, Louis!" she cried one morning, and her voice was full of pain, "how you are wasting this beautiful life that God has given you!"

Louis stretched himself lazily in his arm-chair and clasped his hands behind his head. "Thanks for your high opinion, coz. Of what special crime do I stand accused before the bar of your judgment?"

"Oh, it is nothing special, but you are just frittering away the days that might be filled with such noble work, and you have nothing to show for them but—smoke!" She swept her hand through the filmy cloud which Louis just then blew into the air, with a gesture of disdain. "Now you will think I am preaching, but indeed, indeed I am not, only, it hurts me so!"

Louis laughed and threw away his cigar. "No, I will not charge you with belonging to the cloth, but I confess I should like you better if you had not entrenched yourself behind such a high wall of prejudice against all the good things of this life. You are too narrow, Evadne."

Evadne folded her hands together as if she were holding a strange, sweet comfort against her heart. "The Jews said the same about Jesus Christ," she said, "why should the servant be judged more kindly than her Lord?"

"But there is no harm in these things, Evadne."

"There is no good in them. Life is so real, Louis!"

"Well, I own I am a light weight in the race. But I assure you such people are needed to balance matters. If every one was in such deadly earnest as you, Evadne, the old world would go to pieces."

"But, Louis, it is dreadful to have no purpose in life!"

"The Judge has enough of that for us both," said Louis carelessly. "Why should I choke my brains with musty law when his are charged to repletion?"

"Think how it would please Uncle Lawrence!" urged Evadne.

"True," said Louis gravely, "but that is an argument which will bear future consideration."

"Oh, Louis," and Evadne's voice was choked with tears, "the time may come when you would give the whole world to be able to please your father!"

"But, Evadne," said Louis gently, "a man must have freedom of choice in his vocation. My father chose the law for his profession, why should he rebel if I choose dilettanteism?"

"Because it is no profession at all. I am sure he would not mind what you did, if it were only real work."

[Illustration: 'TAKE HER, RANDOLF, SHE IS WORTHY OF YOU.']

"Oh, pshaw! Always work, Evadne. I tell you I prefer to play. Miss Angel told me at the General's ball last night that she liked a man who took his glass and smoked and did all the rest of the naughty things."

"She is an angel of darkness, luring you on to ruin."

Louis shrugged his shoulders. "Possibly. If so, she is disguised as an angel of light. She sings divinely."

"So did the Sirens."

Louis laughed. "She has promised to go for a sail with me to-morrow.
Better come along, coz, and keep us off the rocks."

Evadne was silent.

"I like such a girl as that," he continued. "She has common sense and makes a fellow feel comfortable. These moral altitudes of yours are all very fine in theory, but the atmosphere is too rare for me."

"It is no real kindness to make you satisfied with your lowest. I want you to rise to your best. Oh, Louis, won't you let Christ make your life grand? It would be such a happiness to me!" She laid her hand upon his shoulder. Louis caught it in his and drew her round in front of his chair.

"Do you really mean that, little coz? Upon my word, it is the strongest inducement you could offer me. I feel half inclined to try, just for your sake, only you see it would involve such a tremendous expenditure of moral force!" and he lighted a fresh cigar.

* * * * *

"I do wish you would not ride such wild horses, Louis," said Mrs. Hildreth, as she stood beside her son in the front doorway, looking disapprovingly as she spoke at the horse who was champing his bit viciously on the sidewalk below. "It keeps me in a perfect fever of anxiety all the time."

"Whoa, Polyphemus! Stand still, sir! Pompey, have you tightened that girth up to its last hole? Better do it then. Don't mind his kicking. It doesn't hurt him. It's just his way.

"My dear lady mother, if you knew what a pleasure it is to find something untamable where everything is so confoundedly slow you would not wonder at my fondness for the brute. As to your anxiety, that is ridiculous. A Hildreth has too much sense to be conquered by a horse and make a spectacle of himself into the bargain. Au revoir . Better take a dose of lavender to calm your nerves," and Louis waved his hand to her with careless grace, as he gathered up the reins.

His mother looked after him with a sigh. "He is so fearless! What a splendid cavalry officer he would make! He makes me think of the regiment that went to the war from Marlborough." Her eye fell casually upon Pompey who was shutting the carriage gates. "What a waste of precious lives it was to be sure, just to free a lot of cowardly negroes!"

It was late in the afternoon when Pompey went up town on an errand for
Judge Hildreth. The street was full of men and horses hurrying to and
fro but Pompey paid them but little attention. He was busy with his
Lord.

Hark! What was that? The sound of a horse's hoofs ringing with a sharp, metallic clatter upon the paved street while children screamed and men turned white faces towards the sound and hurriedly sought the sidewalk.

On they came, the horse and his rider. Louis pale as death, Polyphemus mad with sudden fear and his own ungovernable temper. The bit was between his teeth, his iron-shod feet were thrown out in vengeful fury.

Pompey sprang forward.

"You can't stop him!" shouted the men. "It would be certain death!" But just beyond the street took a sharp turn to the right and a deep chasm, where extensive excavations for a sewer were being made, yawned hungrily.

The horse plunged and reared. Pompey had caught hold of the reins and was clinging to them with all his might.

* * * * *

Mrs. Hildreth leaned over her son in an agony of fear. Louis was her idol. He opened his eyes wearily. His cheeks were as white as the pillow.

"Oh, Louis!" she wailed, "I knew that wretched horse would bring you to your death!"

"I am not dead yet," he said, with a shadow of his old mocking smile, "although I have succeeded in making a fool of myself. How is Pompey?"

"Pompey!" ejaculated his mother. "I never thought of any one but you."

* * * * *

Evadne stood in Dyce's little room, beside the bed with its gay patchwork cover. The iron-shod hoofs had done their cruel work only too well!

"Pompey," she said wistfully, "dear Pompey, is the pain terrible to bear?"

The faithful eyes looked up at her, the brave lips tried to smile. "De Lord Jesus is a powerful help in de time of trubble, Miss 'Vadney; I'se leanin' on his arm."

Evadne repeated, as well as she could for tears. "'Fear thou not, for I am with thee; be not dismayed, for I am thy God; I will strengthen thee, yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.'"

And Pompey answered with joyous assurance,—"'Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.'"

"The Jedge hez been here," said Dyce with mournful pride. "He say he'll never find any one like Pompey. He say it wuz de braves' ting he ever knowed any one to do. He jest cry like a chile, de Jedge did; he say he never 'spect to find sech a faithful frien' again."

"De Jedge is powerful kind, Missy. He say he'll look out fer Dyce ez long ez he live," the husband's voice broke,

"I don't care nuthin' 'bout dat!" and Dyce turned away with a choking sob; "but I'se proud to hev him see what kind of a man you is."

The night drew on. No sound was to be heard in the little cottage except the ticking of the wheezy clock, as Dyce kept her solitary vigil by the side of the man she loved. She knelt beside his pillow, and, for her sake, Pompey made haste to die. As the shadows of the night were fleeing before the heralds of the dawn, she saw the gray shadow which no earthly light has power to chase away fall swiftly over his face.

He opened his eyes and spoke in a rapturous whisper. "Dyce! Dyce! I see de Lord!"

The morning broke. Dyce still knelt on with her face buried in the pillow; the asthmatic clock still kept on its tireless race; but Pompey's happy spirit had forever swept beyond the bounds of time.

* * * * *

The humble funeral was over. The Hildreth carriage, behind whose curtained windows sat Dyce and Evadne, had followed close after the hearse. The Judge had walked behind.

"So uncalled for!" Mrs. Hildreth said in an annoyed tone when, she heard of it. Your father never will learn to have a proper regard for les convenances ."

"Uncalled for!" ejaculated Louis. "I'll venture to say the Judge will never have a chance to follow such a brave man again."

"He sent his carriage. That was all that was necessary."

"Doubtless Dyce finds that superlative honor a perfect panacea for her grief," said Louis sarcastically. "It is eminently fitting that Brutus and Caesar should have walked as chief mourners for they have lost the truest friend they ever had." qW7tugEEjuEPSZmMl1NlSN7ouvohgqTREvqGwHfQMQgLeqlb7PjJoB1pw0noTPII