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158
Adventures in Contentment
·
David Grayson
122
A
pause
followed
which
no
one
seemed
inclined
to
fill.
"But
he
didn't
go,"
I
said.
"No,
he
didn't
go.
He
was
a
brilliant
young
fellow.
He
knew
a
lot,
and
he
was
popular,
too.
He'd
have
had
a
great
success----"
Another
pause.
"But
he
didn't
go?"
I
asked
promptingly.
"No;
he
staid
here.
He
was
better
educated
than
any
man
in
this
county.
Why,
I've
seen
him
more'n
once
pick
up
a
book
of
Latin
and
read
it
for
pleasure."
I
could
see
that
all
this
was
purposely
irrelevant,
and
I
liked
them
for
it.
But
walking
home
from
the
cemetery
Horace
gave
me
the
story;
the
community
knew
it
to
the
last
detail.
I
suppose
it
is
a
story
not
uncommon
among
men,
but
this
morning,
told
of
the
old
Doctor
we
had
just
laid
away,
it
struck
me
with
a
tragic
poignancy
difficult
to
describe.
"Yes,"
said
Horace,
"he
was
to
have
been
married,
forty
years
ago,
and
the
match
was
broken
off
because
he
was
a
drunkard."
"A
drunkard!"
I
exclaimed,
with
a
shock
I
cannot
convey.
"Yes,
sir,"
said
Horace,
"one
o'
the
worst
you
ever
see.
He
got
it
in
the
army.
Handsome,
wild,
brilliant--that
was
the
Doctor.
I
was
a
little
boy
but
I
remember
it
mighty
well."
He
told
me
the
whole
distressing
story.
It
was
all
a
long
time
ago
and
the
details
do
not
matter
now.
It
was
to
be
expected
that
a
man
like
the
old
Doctor
should
love,
love
once,
and
love
as
few
men
do.
And
that
is
what
he
did--and
the
girl
left
him
because
he
was
a
drunkard!
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