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- 272 REMINISCENCES OF OLD VICTORIA
companion flushed slightly and raising his hat, extended his hand, which the lady accepted with hesitation. They exchanged some words and then the lady addressing me asked, " Was my poem acceptable ?"
" To tell you the truth, Miss?Miss?"
" Forbes," she interjected.
" I have not had time to read it carefully." (As a matter of fact I had not bestowed a second thought upon the poem, but was ashamed to ackowledge it.)
" When?oh ! when can you decide ?" she asked with much earnestness.
"To-morrow, I think "?for I fully intended to de-cline it.
She seemed deeply disappointed. Her lip quivered as she held down her head and her form trembled with agitation. I could not understand her emotion, but, of course, said nothing to show that I observed it.
" Could you not give me an answer to-day?this afternoon ?" the girl urged.
" Yes," I said, " as you seem so very anxious, if you will give me your address I shall take or send an answer before four o'clock. Where do you reside?"
" Do you know Forshay's cottages? They are a long way up Yates Street. We occupy No. 4."
Forshay's cottages were a collection of little cabins that had been erected on a lot at the corner of Cook and Yates Streets. They have long since disappeared. They were of one story and each cottage contained three rooms?a kitchen and two other rooms. I could scarcely imagine a refined person such as the lady be-fore me occupying those miserable quarters; but then, you know, necessity knows no law.
The girl thanked me and Barclay accompanied her to the corner of Yates Street. He seemed to be trying
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to induce her to do something she did not approve of, for she shook her head with an air of determination and resolve and hurried away.
Barclay came back to the office and said : " I am English myself, but the silliest creature in the world is an Englishman who, having once been well off, finds himself stranded. His pride will not allow him' to accept favors. I knew that girl's father and mother in Grass Valley. The old gentleman lost a fortune at quartz mining. His partner, a Mr. Maloney, a Dublin man and graduate of Trinity College, having sunk his own and his wife's money in the mine, poisoned his wife, three children and himself with strychnine three years ago. By the way, I met a Grass Valley man this morning. His name is Robert Homfray, a civil engineer. He tells me he is located here permanently. He and his brother lost a great deal of money in the Grass Valley mines, and we talked over the Maloney tragedy, with the circumstances of which he was familiar, but the strangest part of the story is that three months ago the property was reopened and the very first shot that was fired in the tunnel laid bare a rich vein. Had Maloney fired one more charge he would have been rich. As it was he died a murderer and a suicide. Poor fellow ! In a day or two I will tell you more. But let us return to the poetry. What will you do with it?"
" I fear I shall have to reject it."
" No, no," he cried. "Accept it ! This morning I went to the home of the family, which consists of Mr. Forbes, who is crippled with rheumatism, his excellent wife, the young lady from whom we have just parted and a little boy of seven. They are in actual want. I offered to lend them money to buy common necessaries
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