the twins of table mountain-第21部分

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adopted　son　of　the　prospective　head　of　the　household；　whose
culture；　manners；　and　general　elegance；　fascinated　and　thrilled
Boston　with　a　new　sensation。　　It　seemed　to　many　that　Miss　Alice
should；　in　the　vicinity　of　this　rare　exotic；　forget　her　former
enthusiasm　for　a　professional　life；　but　the　young　man　was　pitied　by
society；　and　various　plans　for　diverting　him　from　any　mesalliance
with　the　Rightbody　family　were　concocted。

It　was　a　wintry　night；　and　the　second　anniversary　of　Mr。　Rightbody's
death；　that　a　light　was　burning　in　his　library。　　But　the　dead　man's
chair　was　occupied　by　young　Mr。　Ryder；　adopted　son　of　the　new
proprietor　of　the　mansion；　and　before　him　stood　Alice；　with　her　dark
eyes　fixed　on　the　table。

〃There　must　have　been　something　in　it；　Joe；　believe　me。　　Did　you
never　hear　your　father　speak　of　mine？〃

〃Never。〃

〃But　you　say　he　was　college…bred；　and　born　a　gentleman；　and　in　his
youth　he　must　have　had　many　friends。〃

〃Alice；〃　said　the　young　man　gravely；　〃when　I　have　done　something　to
redeem　my　name；　and　wear　it　again　before　these　people；　before　YOU；
it　would　be　well　to　revive　the　past。　　But　till　then〃

But　Alice　was　not　to　be　put　down。　　〃I　remember；〃　she　went　on；
scarcely　heeding　him；　〃that；　when　I　came　in　that　night；　papa　was
reading　a　letter；　and　seemed　to　be　disconcerted。〃

〃A　letter？〃

〃Yes；　but；〃　added　Alice；　with　a　sigh；　〃when　we　found　him　here
insensible；　there　was　no　letter　on　his　person。　　He　must　have
destroyed　it。〃

〃Did　you　ever　look　among　his　papers？　　If　found；　it　might　be　a
clew。〃

The　young　man　glanced　toward　the　cabinet。　　Alice　read　his　eyes；　and
answered；

〃Oh；　dear；　no！　　The　cabinet　contained　only　his　papers；　all
perfectly　arranged；you　know　how　methodical　were　his　habits；and
some　old　business　and　private　letters；　all　carefully　put　away。〃

〃Let　us　see　them；〃　said　the　young　man；　rising。

They　opened　drawer　after　drawer；　files　upon　files　of　letters　and
business　papers；　accurately　folded　and　filed。　　Suddenly　Alice
uttered　a　little　cry；　and　picked　up　a　quaint　ivory　paper…knife
lying　at　the　bottom　of　a　drawer。

〃It　was　missing　the　next　day；　and　never　could　be　found：　he　must
have　mislaid　it　here。　　This　is　the　drawer；〃　said　Alice　eagerly。

Here　was　a　clew。　　But　the　lower　part　of　the　drawer　was　filled　with
old　letters；　not　labelled；　yet　neatly　arranged　in　files。　　Suddenly
he　stopped；　and　said；　〃Put　them　back；　Alice；　at　once。〃

〃Why？〃

〃Some　of　these　letters　are　in　my　father's　handwriting。〃

〃The　more　reason　why　I　should　see　them；〃　said　the　girl　imperatively。
〃Here；　you　take　part；　and　I'll　take　part；　and　we'll　get　through
quicker。〃

There　was　a　certain　decision　and　independence　in　her　manner　which
he　had　learned　to　respect。　　He　took　the　letters；　and　in　silence
read　them　with　her。　　They　were　old　college　letters；　so　filled　with
boyish　dreams；　ambitions；　aspirations；　and　utopian　theories；　that　I
fear　neither　of　these　young　people　even　recognized　their　parents　in
the　dead　ashes　of　the　past。　　They　were　both　grave；　until　Alice
uttered　a　little　hysterical　cry；　and　dropped　her　face　in　her　hands。
Joe　was　instantly　beside　her。

〃It's　nothing；　Joe；　nothing。　　Don't　read　it；　please；　please；　don't。
It's　so　funny！　it's　so　very　queer！〃

But　Joe　had；　after　a　slight；　half…playful　struggle；　taken　the
letter　from　the　girl。　　Then　he　read　aloud　the　words　written　by　his
father　thirty　years　ago。

〃I　thank　you；　dear　friend；　for　all　you　say　about　my　wife　and　boy。
I　thank　you　for　reminding　me　of　our　boyish　compact。　　He　will　be
ready　to　fulfil　it；　I　know；　if　he　loves　those　his　father　loves；
even　if　you　should　marry　years　later。　　I　am　glad　for　your　sake；　for
both　our　sakes；　that　it　is　a　boy。　　Heaven　send　you　a　good　wife；
dear　Adams；　and　a　daughter；　to　make　my　son　equally　happy。〃

Joe　Silsbie　looked　down；　took　the　half…laughing；　half…tearful　face
in　his　hands；　kissed　her　forehead；　and；　with　tears　in　his　grave
eyes；　said；　〃Amen！〃

　　　　　　　　。　　　　　　　　。　　　　　　　　。　　　　　　　　。　　　　　　　　。　　　　　　　　。

I　am　inclined　to　think　that　this　sentiment　was　echoed　heartily　by
Mrs。　Rightbody's　former　acquaintances；　when；　a　year　later；　Miss
Alice　was　united　to　a　professional　gentleman　of　honor　and　renown；
yet　who　was　known　to　be　the　son　of　a　convicted　horse…thief。　　A　few
remembered　the　previous　Californian　story；　and　found　corroboration
therefor；　but　a　majority　believed　it　a　just　reward　to　Miss　Alice
for　her　conduct　to　Mr。　Marvin；　and；　as　Miss　Alice　cheerfully
accepted　it　in　that　light；　I　do　not　see　why　I　may　not　end　my　story
with　happiness　to　all　concerned。



A　LEGEND　OF　SAMMTSTADT。


It　was　the　sacred　hour　of　noon　at　Sammtstadt。　　Everybody　was　at
dinner；　and　the　serious　Kellner　of　〃Der　Wildemann〃　glanced　in　mild
reproach　at　Mr。　James　Clinch；　who；　disregarding　that　fact　and　the
invitatory　table　d'hote；　stepped　into　the　street。　　For　Mr。　Clinch
had　eaten　a　late　breakfast　at　Gladbach；　was　dyspeptic　and　American；
and；　moveover；　preoccupied　with　business。　　He　was　consequently
indignant；　on　entering　the　garden…like　court　and　cloister…like
counting…house　of　〃Von　Becheret；　Sons；　Uncles；　and　Cousins；〃　to
find　the　comptoir　deserted　even　by　the　porter；　and　was　furious　at
the　maidservant；　who　offered　the　sacred　shibboleth　〃Mittagsessen〃
as　a　reasonable　explanation　of　the　solitude。　　〃A　country；〃　said　Mr。
Clinch　to　himself；　〃that　stops　business　at　mid…day　to　go　to　dinner；
and　employs　women…servants　to　talk　to　business…men；　is　played　out。〃

He　stepped　from　the　silent　building　into　the　equally　silent
Kronprinzen　Strasse。　　Not　a　soul　to　be　seen　anywhere。　　Rows　on　rows
of　two…storied；　gray…stuccoed　buildings　that　might　be　dwellings；　or
might　be　offices；　all　showing　some　traces　of　feminine　taste　and
supervision　in　a　flower　or　a　curtain　that　belied　the　legended
〃Comptoir；〃　or　〃Direction；〃　over　their　portals。　　Mr。　Clinch　thought
of　Boston　and　State　Street；　of　New　York　and　Wall　Street；　and　became
coldly　contemptuous。

Yet　there　was　clearly　nothing　to　do　but　to　walk　down　the　formal
rows　of　chestnuts　that　lined　the　broad　Strasse；　and　then　walk　back
again。　　At　the　corner　of　the　first　cross…street　he　was　struck　with
the　fact　that　two　men　who　were　standing　in　front　of　a　dwelling…
house　appeared　to　be　as　inconsistent；　and　out　of　proportion　to　the
silent　houses；　as　were　the　actors　on　a　stage　to　the　painted　canvas
thoroughfares　before　which　they　strutted。　　Mr。　Clinch　usually　had
no　fancies；　had　no　eye　for　quaintness；　besides；　this　was　not　a
quaint　nor　romantic　district；　only　an　entrepot　for　silks　and
velvets；　and　Mr。　Clinch　was　here；　not　as　a　tourist；　but　as　a
purchaser。　　The　guidebooks　had　ignored　Sammtstadt；　and　he　was　too
good　an　American　to　waste　time　in　looking　up　uncatalogued
curiosities。　　Besides；　he　had　been　here　once　before；an　entire
day！

One　o'clock。　　Still　a　full　hour　and　a　half　before　his　friend　would
return　to　business。　　What　should　he　do？　　The　Verein　where　he　had
once　been　entertained　was　deserted　even　by　its　waiters；　the　garden；
with　its　ostentatious　out…of…door　tables；　looked　bleak　and　bare。
Mr。　Clinch　was　not　artistic　in　his　tastes；　but　even　he　was　quick　to
detect　the　affront　put　upon　Nature　by　this　continental；　theatrical
gardening；　and　turned　disgustedly　away。　　Born　near　a　〃lake〃　larger
than　the　German　Ocean；　he　resented　a　pool　of　water　twenty…five　feet
in　diameter　under　that　alluring　title；　and；　a　frequenter　of　the
Adirondacks；　he　could　scarce　contain　himself　over　a　bit　of　rock…
work　twelve　feet　high。　　〃A　country；〃　said　Mr。　Clinch；　〃that〃　but
here　he　remembered　that　he　had　once　seen　in　a　park　in　his　native
city　an　imitation　of　the　Drachenfels　in　plaster；　on　a　scale　of　two
inches　to　the　foot；　and　checked　his　speech。

He　turned　into　the　principal　allee　of　the　town。　　There　was　a　long
white　building　at　one　end；the　Bahnhof：　at　the　other　end　he
remembered　a　dye…house。　　He　had；　a　year　ago；　met　its　hospitable
proprietor：　he　would　call　upon　him　now。

But　the　same　solitude　confronted　him　as　he　passed　the　porter's
lodge　beside　the　gateway。　　The　counting…house；　half　villa；　half
factory；　must　have　convoked　its　humanity　in　some　out…of…the…way
refectory；　for　the　halls　and　passages　were　tenantless。　　For　the
first　time　he　began　to　be　impressed　with　a　certain　foreign
quaintness　in　the　surroundings；　he　found　himself　also　recalling
something　he　had　read　when　a　boy；　about　an　enchanted　palace　whose
inhabitants　awoke　on　the　arrival　of　a　long…predestined　Prince。　　To
assure　himself　of　the　absolute　ridiculousness　of　this　fancy；　he
took　from　his　pocket　the　business…card　of　its　proprietor；　a　sample
of　dye；　and　recalled　his　own　personality　in　a　letter　of　credit。
Having　dismissed　this　idea　from　his　mind；　he　lounged　on　again
through　a　rustic　lane　that　might　have　led　to　a　farmhouse；　yet　was
still；　absurdly　enough；　a　part　of　the　factory　gardens。　　Crossing　a
ditch　by　a　causeway；　he　presently　came　to　another　ditch　and　another
causeway；　and　then　found　himself　idly　contemplating　a　massive；　ivy…
clad；　venerable　brick　wall。　　As　a　mere　wall　it　might　not　have
attracted　his　attention；　but　it　seemed　to　enter　and　bury　itself　at
right　angles　in　the　side…wall　of　a　quite　modern…looking　dwelling。
After　satisfying　himself　of　this　fact；　he　passed　o