The Other Mr Smith.

Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, Issue 440, 1 September 1904, Page 3

The Other Mr Smith.

SHOBT STORY.

(Continued from last week.) SOON after he reached home his father died. Shortly afterwards he was ordered to China, for Barbara was right in her conjectures: this Smith was in the navy. He wrote to his friend in Pittsbur<* to send the trunks to Maryland, but when they arrived he had gone, so the old house was closed with Jack Leigh's trunk stored away in an upper room, and Sidney Smith had sailed for China.

Meantime there had been much agitation of mind among the Leighs. Two days after the episode at the Broad Street Station a letter had come from Jack: 'Too bad you missed Ned Smith the other night. He was detained in Washington, and came through on a later train. Please send the trunk by express.* Barbara turned pale with dismay. For one moment she thought of keeping the direful news from the others, but she knew that was impossible, so she presented a brave front, and, with a calmness born of despair, said, 'I gave that check to the wrong man.'

A pause, an awful pause, and then the storm burst upon her devoted head. 'I told you so!' was echoed bvone member of the family after another. Jack was telegraped, advertisements were inserted in the Philadelphia, New York, and Pittsburg papers, worded in even- conceivable manner. Barbara said at last that she felt as if everv remark she made must be with a view to its appearance in print. But it was all of no avail. Sidney Smith, down on the Eastern Shore, was too much occupied to glance at even the headings of the papers, and was quite unconscious that he was being regarded in Philadelphia as a thief and an adventurer.

Time went on, and the matter was dropped. Jack's rooms in Pittsburg were unadorned, and in courso of time he left there and came home. The lost trunk was forgotten by all save Barbara. She was quite conscious of the fact that she Bad allowed herself to be sadly taken in, and could console herself only by hating with a •nighty hatred the Mr Smith who had been the innocent cause of the downfall to her self-esteem.

In about three years Sidney Smith returned to America, and went'home for a few days to his home in Maryland. None of his family were now living there, and he found it so insufferably lonely that he determined to run up to Philadelphia as soon as possible. One rainy day before he left, for lack of something better to do, he mounted to the big lumber room and began to rummage among its contents. It was a dim and dusty place, piled high with ancient furniture, boxes, trunks, goods and chattels of all kinds. Collected together in a little heap by themselves were Sidney's own possessions, the trunks that had been sent down from Pittsburg, and standing prominently among them, as if it had placed itself in the most conspicuous position in order to be recognized at once, was a low, square, black trunk, with the letters ' J.L.' painted in white on the end. Sidney was puzzled. He examined the lock and found it to be a padlock of curious Chinese mechanism, impossible to open without its own key, so he hunted for tools, and, removing the hasp, raised the lid. A faint half-imperceptible adour pervaded the air.

• Foreign, by Jove ! Takes one back to Japan at once.' he thought, as he lifted out the curious figure, the decorations, and all the other things that Barbara had so carefully packed. The box of candy, the contents of which crumbled to dust as soon as it was exposed to the air, aroused his curiosity still more. • From Whack's. Whack is represented in a good many places, but I never saw one of his stores in Japan or China. The plot thickens.'

Then came attain, flat package. He opened it: smiling up at him was the face of a girl in a Dig hat. He took it to the window, and, brushing aside the cobwebs that covered the dusty pane, he gazed at the charming face. For a moment nothing was heard but the drip-drip of the rain from the eaves and a scuttling mouse in the wall. ' I have seen that girl before,' he said aloud. He turned over the picture and read on the back, «For Jack, from Barbara. November, 1887.' «Yes; and now I have it. The pretty girl that rushed at me in Philadelphia station and gave me a note. Her name was Barbara. Where is the note ?' And he dived into his pockets. Then he laughed. «I am afraid the note has gone to the shades by this time. It was three years ago, and all this time the trunk has been missing. Poor Barbara!—to say nothing of Jack! Who are they, I wonder ? Uncommonly pretty girl!' He replaced the articles in the trunk, but thought that he would keep the photograph out a little longer and look at it occasionally; • just so that I may recognize Barbara at once, if I should see her anywhere.' He got so into the habit of ' looking at it occasionally' that it resulted in Barbara's piciure accompanying him wherever he went, and he grew more and more interested in the discovery of the original.

One night Barbara was dressing for a dinner at Mrs Tom Lovering's. ' I dont much like it,' she remarked to Meg, as she fastened her white gown. « A big dinner is such a risk. It is either perfectly delightful or correspondingly awful. Is that gold hair-pin in just the right place ?' brandishing a hand-glass. «Grace Lovering will probably send me in with some slow, stupid creature, just because I talk so much myself. It is a great misfortune to be lively. And that is the worst of a big dinner. Now at a small one there are only the choicest spirits.'

' There is to be a new man there from Maryland,' said Margaret, 'but I don't envy you.' And she sighed with oatisfaction as she thought of the interesting book and the cozy fire in store for her that evening. Barbara was the ' society member ' of the familyi She was the last to arrive at the Loverings', and soon after she entered the room dinner was announced. Her worst fears were not realized, for she was taken in to dinner by Jim Hammond, an old friend and would-be admirer of hers, while on her other side sat a man from New York who was equally agreeable.

* That must be the Maryland man opposite,' she thought, as she glanced up and down the table, and then did not think of him again until the dinner was about half over. Then she felt impelled to look up, and found his steady gaze resting upon her. When her eyes met his she looked away ; but soon afterwards, when Barbara had resumed her spirited argument with Sir Hammond, Sidney could not resist the impulse to study her face again. Barbara was quite aware that he was doing so, hough she appeared not to sec him.

Later in the evening Sidney sought his hostess.

'Mrs Lovering, will you tell me who the girl is with the wonderful hair? The one in the white dress.'

'Oh, that is Barbara Leigh. Haven't you met her? Let me introduce you to her now.' Then, crossing the room to where Barbara sat with two or three men in attendance, « Miss Leigh, let me present Mr Smith.'

'Found at last," thought Sidney. 'She can hav<§ the trunk, but the photograph, never. ° *

The name gave Barbara something of a shock, but, beyond prejudicing her a little against the owner, it suggested nothing. She had seen many faces since the night in the Broad Street Station, and had met more than one man named Smith ; so even face and name combined failed to suggest the incident.

Mrs Lovering carried off with her one of the men who had been sitting with Barbara, and Sidney took his chair. 'Your face is so familiar to me, Miss Leigh, I feel as though I must have met you before; though I am sure I should remember the meeting distinctly, had that been the case.

'Your face is familiar to me,, too,' said Barbara, ' but I cannot place you at all, so we must both be mistaken. Have you been in town long ? I understand that you are a stranger.'

' Very much of a stranger, he answered, laughing, but watching her narrowly. ' I have been away from this country for three years, and feel like a veritable Rip Van Winkle.'

The other men who had been talking to Barbara wandered off, for Sidney had the air of one who meant to keep the field. 'Three years? That is a long time. It sounds as if you were in the navy. And if you are, you probably know my brother, Jack Leigh.'

'Of course I do.' And there rose before his mind the initials 'J. L.' painted in white on the end of a certain trunk. 'So Jack is only a brother,' he thought, much to his satisfaction. ' How stupid of me not to have remembered Jack Leigh in connection with those initials!'

' That is why my face seems familiar,' continued Barbara. 'We are always thought to look alike.'

Sidney acquiesced. ' She must have forgotten entirely,' he thought, ' or she is the most consummate little actress I ever met. The denouement will be great fun. I must manage it carefully.' They talked for some time, and Barbara quite forgot his objectionable name. 'lt is so nice to meet a new and goodlooking man,' she said to Meg that night, ' and one that has a few ideas. So many of them leave you to do the lion's share in the conversation, and it is really quite tiresome to lead in a new topic in a clever and not utterly irrelevant fashion, but Mr Sm Meg, I do believe you are asleep.' And, highly incensed with her sister, Barbara went and did likewise.

Sydney Smith and Barbara met frequently during the winter, and their liking was mutual and flourished apace. After much planning and many delays, Sidney found a chance to open the subject of the trunk.

He had met Barbara one afternoon in spring on Walnut Street, and together they had crossed the square. ' Won't you sit down a little while on that bench over there?' he asked.

*An empty bench is such a rare luxury that I must make the most of it, : returned Barbara. ' What a delightfully democratic place Eittenhouse Square -is!' she continued. 'We are very grateful to that seedy-looking individual for vacating this exceedingly rickety bench.' • And as for right of way, I always feel that I owe a debt of gratitude to the phalanx of nurses if they condescend to move the baby-carriages but a few inches to let me pass.' 1 And to the children on roller-skates for not knocking you down. But, after all, the square is a dear place, and I love it. I used to dig in the gravel here before the, place was attired in asphalt, and pretend that fairies lived in the old trees. What happy days those were, when one believed in fairies!'

' I believe in them now,' said Sidney. •Do you ? Then you must be correspondingly happy.' • I am. Let me tell you a fairy-story—-if you have not quite out-grown your love for them ?' • Oh, no, not at all. I love them as much as ever, though I fail to believe.' ' That introduces a nice question fcr an argument. Can love exist without belief ?'

4 Don't stop for that nowj' said Barbara. ' It would be an endless affair, for you know we always make a point of disagreeing. Tell me the fairy-story.' • I must begin in the old-fashioned manner. Once upon a time there lived a ' he paused a moment. ' A what ? ogre, maiden, prince ?' ' None of those; simply a man.' ■ Oh, how commonplace ! But go on.' ' Yes, a commonplace man. And he did a very commonplace thing. He took a journey.'

* They always do in fairy-tales,' Barbara interpolated.

1 True. And on the journey a wonderful thing happened. Without any warning, a fairy appeared before him. She was not disguised as an old woman, nor a wounded doe, nor a bird, nor anything orthodox, but a veritable fairy maiden with golden hair—no wings, however. She was clad in nine-teenth-century fashion.' ' And what did she say ?' asked Barbara. 'Or did she remain "silent and simply signal ?' ■ She spoke, and English at that. She said, ' Are you Mr Smith ?'' ' How interesting ! And what did you say?' 1 Naturally, being nearly always a truthful man, I replied that I did rejoice in that euphonious title. Upon which she bestowed upon me a gift..' 'A gift. This grows exciting. Was it the purse of Fortunatus, or a wishingcap?' - ' Neither. It,was a trunk.'

■ Pandora's box, perhaps.' ' No, it was a Chinese box, marked 'J. L.,' and containing books, bric-a-brac, a Japanese figure '

' What!' Barbara fairly gasped, ' are you the bottle-nosed man ?' * The what ?'

' The bottle-nosed man. I beg your pardon, but that is what we have always called you, though I don't know why I should ever have thought so. But it was all my stupidity that did it.' This was rather incoherent, but the usually self-possessed Barbara was decidedly embarrassed, and it must be confessed that Sidney enjoyed her discomfiture. 'Tell me what you thought of me for doing such a thing,' she said.

' The real honest truth?' 'Yes, and I will confess to you afterwards.'

' Well, on those conditions, I will tell you that I thought you were very innoeent, not to say foolish, to trust a perfect stranger ; but the name misled you, I suppose, and then I have always flattered myself that I must have a very honest face to have inspired you with such confidence. Now it is your turn.'

' And you did not think mc horribly bold and unladylike?' she asked. 'Not in the least, —could not possibly,' he replied with great decision.

' I am thankful to hear it,' said Barbara,

mth relief. «It gives me courage to tell you that I have always hated you since that night, though it was not your fault, but entirely mine. You see, I was very young then, and never stopped to think twice.' ' But you do stop for that now ?' 'Occasionally.'

' W ,?. n ', tyoumake this an occasion, then, and think twice about hating me?'

No-o, I hardly, think it will be necessary, she said, very demurely: ' now I know that the long-lamented Japanese lady with real hair still exists, I no longer have an excuse for hating you. But come, I must go home, and on the way yon shall finish the fairy-tale and tell me all you thought while you were opening the trunk.' Of course there was great excitement among the Leighs when they heard that the long-lost trunk had been found. The subject being reopened, Barbara came in for no small amount of teasing, but she comforted herself by saying,— 'At least I was not mistaken in knowing him to be" a naval officer, and none of you were right, for you all said he' was a sharper.' A few weeks later another announcement was made to the Leigh family, and no one was greatly surprised.

' I will bestow the famous trunk upon them as a wedding gift,' said Jack, ' Japanese lady and all. It is a huge joke on Barbara, though, that she should become Mrs Smith.'—Ellen Douglas Deland.