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SUNDAY MAGAZINE fmr JULY 23. 1M5 A PEBBLE FROM INDIA II. ABO f iMtK P!?BTHMBil?BSErsBSBsisBsssssssssfr SSSJr k, ' -9BSSBSSSSSSJ2iKst9lil L BBMnsBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBA IBBBBBkNv BsT'SBBBBBBBBBBBBSBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBbB 4L?VkiH9i-'S4' :".''---la I7sbbs3k ' rr-:di-:lBSBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBm KiB9: -.,- -aBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBK BOUT the mid dle of last June was crossing Madison Square, Xcw-York, diagonal ly, from Broadway to Madison-ave. The day was warm and K-autiful. and there were many jiersons sitting on the lench cs. One man I hap jcned to notice jar ticularly; he occu ieil a beat ne:ir one of the fountains. He was alone, for the 1 cnch was exposed to the sun. which, however, was mi far from incommoding him that he wore an autumn overcoat, v.ith the collar turned uj. A soft felt hat was pulled over his 1 irons, and the lower part of his face was covered with a short silky Ward, which did not disguise the molding of hi- chin and lips. I pasM.il this fig ure, and continued on my way: hut after a few paces 1 slop-ted, turned and went sjowly hack. There had 1-een something altout him something that awoke mem ories in my mind. I paused in front of him. At last he looked uj. It was he! " Edward Beauchamp!" said I. "Hello! Good to see vou! It's licen a lont time! Sit down!" I An hour passed over us unheeded on that blister ing bench, while we recalled the past and interro gated each other. Since we had parted at Jabalpur a month after the night o'T Aden, now yeaiis ago. I had heard nothing from him. Physically, my friend was greatly changed. He was emaciated and languid and feeble as an old man. "Nothing jovial the matter: hut lost my appetite and that sort of tlung." he remarked cheerfully enough. He seemed to me like a dying man. though he mut have Kvn tinder forty: hut. it struck me that he was gratified, rather than con.crncd. at his de plorable condition. Attention to outward things au:-ed him a manifest e'Tort: he would lapse into mumg. and sjeak from the pur-iiM-: he had lost his gnp and initiative. Yet he was not depresMtl. and his manner with me was Iran itiilly a'Tcclionate. 'lo certain questions which 1 put to him he rc turned inconclusive replies. When had he come to America? For what purjM'? What was lie do ing1 Did he mean to remain? He would smile grave It and answer in vague terms. But at last he saiil. "If you've no engagement, v tuld it 1-ore you to come up to my rin for nhile5 We can chat comfortably there. It's too 1 right and lively out here to say things; and there are a few things that I'd like to say to you. , ou're the only fellow I could ever tell things to, miii know We roM". and he leaned u;on my arm. walking sio-.ly and with difficulty he. who had lteen the tvji of the Greek athlete, active a-id tireless! We pr-needed up Ftfth-ave. for half a mile, then turned down a Mile street to the left, and presently arrived at a ta'.l bachelor-apartment building, near the summit of which Beauchamp had his abode. The riHmi had a broad outlook over citv and river, and the clamor of the streets was hushed at that elevation to a not unagreeable murmur. The rooms were furnished and decorated as becatre a wealth v and cultivated Anglo-Indian' pictures of rejKtM'fuI )rient.il ruins and landscapes; exquisite Uf like carvings from Agra, wonderful little caskets an 1 'igures. in silver, bronze orivorv. from China and Japan, silken hangings and draperies in quiet tints: aid in one corner something was fastened to the wall, r.id a urtain hung before it. Beauchamp took o'T 1-is oernat. and then, apologizing for fatigue, laid h-VMit down on the divan, asking me to sit in the Iniu.n extension-chair lieside him I in glad you came" he said. "I've so often theught of yen. I wanted you to know it. all. Mystic Tragic Influenct Exerted on the Possessors of a Wonderful Oriental By JULIAN HAWTHORNE 'What U That Bosklo You. NodT Wkr. SmI- drl-Sho Ht No. No I I Won! Bllrvo III" and now, if you don't mind. 111 tell you. It isn't a verjy long yarn. The cigars and things are on the table at your left." I liegan smoking accordingly; but my cigar was nearly half done liefore Beauchamp found the breeze to fill his sails. I never indeed have known another man who so well understood the art, or the mystery, of the harmonizing of ersonaI spheres; he would not and probably could not disclose himself, tmtil he felt that the adjustments were complete. This might occur in silence or otherwise; but occur it must, lnrfore anything of import could ensue. "An American family came to Madras the year after 1 met you," he finally said: "and when I heard alKtut them I did what I could for them, mainly for your sake. Franklin, their name was; father and mother, and daughter Guinevere, alxml twenty years old, educated and modern, eager to know things, and, lcing in India, interested in the theo sophical fad, as I myself still was at that time. But her impulse was to investigate and to analyze, and so to broaden her outlook ujion human nature and the mind no notion at all of self-abnegation, of abating the individual virus; she loved reasonings, but she balked at In-licf. For all her modernity, she liehl to the old conception of character, morality, heroes and heroines. i-crsons absolute and inde endent in themselves; the idea of thoughtless spontaneity as the secret of the true life never oc curred to her. That was her conscious self, the sort of mind she cultivated. But uneoiwioiisly. natural ly, she was exceedingly winning and agreeable, clean, v. hole-some and handsome. Her influence was like broad daylight, with a crisp breeze blowing, and no mists or obscurities visible. Her vitality was stimulating, like a plunge into coo! spring-water. Her assertion of the feminine prerogative was capti vating, for she was perfectly w-11-brcd; and to a fellow who was rather tirnl from governing a native Province, it was comforting to feel a pttrson who really liked to hold the reins; and thought, will and authority over others were fine things. "One's e.xerience in life, if you notice, isn't con tinuous, a logical, progressive development; it i omes in areas, as I might sav. related to one another sometimes as reactions, sometimes as higher or lower jtlar.es. or may 1-e only seeming to 1 e caiiMil by outward circtnistrinr ?. but, however, it may be, I suspect that underlyirg them always is the decree that every man of us is to have the opportunity to explore all the piss-ibilitics of the phase of our common nature that has been given him. The thread of personal identity runs through them all, of course: but while each of them lasts we live lives more or less diTcrent one from another. Well, at the time Guinevere r.imc I had just traversed one of mv areas of experience, and was readv to lt Hot Anu- enter upon another. You know what the former one had been. "I had Kved through the emo tions and intuitions, and my time had come for subjects of fact and intelligence. The mystical light had gone out. and I was to kindle the rational one. The change was from deep to shallow, from higher to lower I don't deny that at all events, the change was there: Inda had vanished, and Guinevere had arrived. You may call this a sophism. to excuse an infidel ity; but I've thought it over, and I doubt the soundness of the conclusion. The man who had known Inda hail not the same attributes as the man who knew Guine vere; Inda's earthly life had ceased, and with it had ceased the springs of the life I had led with her. She had taken away with her the lctter and purer ideals in me which had made me her lover and husband, but had left lichind the existence that had served them as foundation. Now, an inferior stimulus had caused to grow upon that foundation ideals that were cor respondingly inferior. Root out of the soil of your garden the roses and lilies, and in their place, if the soil remains, weeds will spring tip. "One state is not comparable with another, any more than a rose is comparable with an apple. Such happiness as I had with Guinevere would have apjiearcd to me like misery, seen from my elevation with Inda; but it was not so that 1 saw it. And looking back to Inda was like rememlK-ring a glorious, inspired childhood, forever passed away. This is the humiliation ami tragedy of our finite compass; no doubt there's a deep significance in it few decpter but we can't fix the conditions, or prevent the issue. We must accept it as it comes, and learn from it, if we will, what we are not, and what we are. " I resigned my position in the service, and trav eled with the Franklins for two years or more. Guinevere and 1 liccamc engaged; but we loth were content for the time in that intermediate situ ation: to put e:T settling down till later on. Mean while, we conversed a good deal about America and the American idea. It liegan ti attract me. fier haps Iiecause of its utter contrast with the ideas and scenes I'd known hitherto. It seemed to har monize, as she herself did, with my new phase. Never a word, though, did I titter, or think of utter ing. alotit what had gone before. 1 never so much as consciously thought of it; a wall of oblivion had risen to shut it out. Who would lte-lievc. on the testimony of the snow, that summer had lieen. or that spring was "to come? For aught Guinevere knew, she might have K-en the first woman I had known intimately: and I was not deceiving her either, for nothing that she knew or could ever know of me no ossibIe manifestation of me in her presence had ever existed for Inda. Besides, it seemed physically impossible for me to speak that name in Guinevere's hearing. When Lucifer fell from Heaven, he lost the faculty of angelic language. "When we got to England, in the course of our journeying, I found tilings of my own to attend to; and Guinevere and her parents went on meanwhile to America, where I was to rejoin them. A year passed 1-efore I could do so. Then her father -lied, and our marriage was again put off. But at last the date was fixed for the autumn of last year; and Mrs. Franklin. Guinevere and I went for the summer to a watering-place near Boston. While we were there some luggage reached me w hich had 1 en packed and stored ever since I left Madta. It was taken to my rooms in the hotel, and Guinevere and Iter mother were present when the 1 o.xes were