The Truth About Tristrem Varick

r public, have had but one theory between them to account for it, and that theory is that Tristrem Varick was insane. Tristrem Varick was not insane. He had, perhaps, a fibre more or a fibr

ty that there are not

e a little stir; it was looked upon as a piece of old-world folly, an eccentricity worthy of the red-heeled days of seigneurial France, and, as such, altogether ou

ituated in Waverley Place, refurbished from cellar to garret; he had the parlor-there were parlors in those days-fitted up in white and gold, in the style known as that of the First Empire. The old Dutch furniture, black with age and hair-cloth, was banished. The walls were plastered with a lime cement of peculiar brilliance. The floors of the bedrooms were carpe

ng so much as his bread and butter, and at school, at college, and when he went abroad his supply of funds was of the amplest description. Shortly after his return from foreign lands Erastus Varick was gathered to his fa

bold fight. It was shown beyond peradventure that from the time of Tristrem's birth the intention of the testator-and the intention of a testator is what the court most considers-had been to leave his property to a charitable institution. It was proved that he had made other wills of a similar character, and that he had successively destroyed them as his mind changed in regard to minor details and distributions of the trust. But the wise law was there, and there too were the wise lawyers. The decision was made in ac

sighted, he had a way of holding his chin out and raising his eyebrows as though he were peering at something which he could not quite discern. In his face there was a charm that grew and delighted and fastened on the beholder. At the age of twent

ts rightful shape. This change was the result of an evolution of opinion. One day while some companions, with whom he happened to be loitering, scurried behind a fence, he stopped a runaway horse, clinging to the bridle though his arm had been dislocated in the earliest effort. Another time, when a comrade had been visited, unjustly

school-fellows turned to him naturally, and accepted his verdict without question. When he reached the altitudes which the Upper School offers, no other boy at St. Paul's was better liked than he. At that time the form of which he was a member-and in which, parenthetically, he ranked rather low-was strengthened by a new-comer, a turbulent, precocious boy who had been expelled from two other scho

recocity, and Weldon, who was accustomed to be admired, took to Tristrem not unkindly on that account. But after a time Tristrem ceased to blink and began to lecture, not priggishly at all, but in a persuasive manner that was hard to resist. For Weldon was prone to get into

erless boy. I wish, Tristrem, that you would use your influence with him. I see but one course open to me, unless he does better-" Tristrem was a motherless boy himself, but he answered bravely that he would do what he could. That

morrow Weldon would leave the school. In a second he had seated him before the open dictionary, and in another second he was kneeling at his own beds

" he began, but Tristrem interrupted him. "There, don't say anything, and

f with something approaching propriety. Two years later, in company with his

taste than the simplest equation, and to his shame it must be noted that he read Petrarch at night. But, though the curriculum was not entirely to his fancy, he was conscientious and did his best. There are answers that he gave in class that are quoted still, tang

n of fogs, each more depressing than the last, he fled to Italy, and wandered among her ghosts and treasuries, and then dr