Page:Mysteries of Melbourne Life.djvu/16

12 a splendid man Harry Robertson was become! His form had filled out into elegant yet powerful proportions, and gave the impression of beauty and strength. His face, guarded by a short dark brown beard, was noble and thoughtful in contour, and his splendid brow conveyed an idea of unmistakeable intellectuality. There was something about the whole ensemble of this man that told of personal and mental superiority, fitting him for the worship of lesser beings. The element of haughtiness, which detracts from so many such men, was entirely absent. It is only those who have not thought deeply who are proud or haughty. The man who has studied knows too much to look upon even the meanest of God's creatures with contempt. So, there was ever on Harry's handsome face a kind sympathetic look that seemed to go abroad to all, and to feel for everyone. The sweet winning smile never deserted him, and coming from such a man it was irresistible.

Irresistible, did I say? Oh it had not been successful in winning Linda's love. But Harry had driven that passion into those shaded comers of the heart where lie so many of past and gone hopes, and now he looked upon her only as the wife of the friend who was dearer to him than anyone in the world, for his heart had not gone forth to a soul since its disappointment with Linda. Occupied as he was with noble thoughts, with the study of the problems of this life, with an active interest in the development of the great country to which he owed so much, Harry was protected from the evils that ruin the thoughtless moths who fall so easily into the snare of forbidden love.

How dear Robert was to him he had never found out until they separated. For years they had lived together, never apart for a day; their minds open to each other as the sky at noonday, their hearts beating in unison. It is true that Hugh Hanlon's brilliancy had at times eclipsed Harry's slower abilities, and that Robert would be decoyed away to join some of Hugh's will freaks; but although he was fond of, and often fascinated, by Hugh, he always returned to Harry. Why? Because he honored and respected the one, while he merely admired the other. How inexpressibly lonely had Harry felt when his companion left the old house and sought a new partner I But such partings must be in this changeable world; and so Harry learned to bear with the loss if not to forget.

"I have often wondered," said Linda, after one of her unsuccessful glances at the window, "what became of Hugh Hanlon. He was such a companion of yours once, and of Bob's."

"I do not know," replied Harry.

"I was quite frightened on our wedding-day," said Linda thoughtfully; "I feel certain that when we were coming out of St. Peter's I saw Hugh in one of the pews with a splendidly-dressed woman by his side. He looked at me in a strange manner; and she, too, appeared to glance at me malevolently."

"You were excited," said Harry, "and conjured up such phantasms. But, Linda, I have often wished to talk to you about a subject that interests me greatly. Have you noticed any alteration in Bobs recently?"

A slight shade passed over Linda's beautiful face.

"Yes, Harry, yes," she replied. "But it is only the change that must occur. I can't expect he'll always be so fond of me, or stay at home so much. Indeed, it cannot be expected, for a man must move amongst his kind to make himself acquainted with the world."

"That is right enough," said Harry; "but I begin to find a strange change in his behavior. He, who used to be the sweetest fellow in the world, gets quite snappish with me at times, and I notice he keeps company with some of the fastest men about town. Linda, Linda, keep him from them. O! If you knew the many broken hearts, blasted reputations, untimely deaths, shame and degradation, the result of intercourse with them, you would do all you could to keep him away. I try to get him to visit me, that I might interest him in some study or natural amusement; but he avoids anything serious. I fear he is becoming too light."

"O! it will end well," said Linda, like all wives anxious to shield her husband. "Bob says he has enough hard work all day, without studying at night."

"I didn't mean study," said Harry, "I meant proper amusements, such as would keep him away from dangerous haunts."

"O! don't talk so Harry," said Linda. "I'm sure the dear fellow will do what is proper."

Harry shook his head. He knew that Robert had never had what is known amongst young fellows as a "fling," and that if he "turned out" now, the consequences, in spite of his pretty wife, might be serious.