, 1874-01-11

mind, that had been near and dear to him It
WAS long and afrectionate, and signed by my
own name. It referred to those hrst days when
| he had spoken kindly to me- in the sewlnE-roorn,
| aud to my meeting him more and more
| often afterward away from home, aud how wiser
| than q SERPENT he had been 10 never letting hls
wife suspect it. 1t spoke Of our blue-eJeu
| JoAnny-how proud he would be to show papa
On his next visit, his first jacket and t1ousers
| 1t spole OF my being wholly dependent on him
I il my Ut health anu how blessel had beeu in
gaming t4e love OF so good man. It reminded
him ever 80 dcllcate!y Of a certain allowance
| that ho lad promised to make me- from tue be-
| ginning OF that carreut year; but the one thing
| tuat caziied conviction to Mrs. Deane'a mind,
anu knex it would when / thought OF 1t, was
| my telling him in the letter how Johnnie had
seen lis back III the looking glass, and had DIS
covered mole. just Like papa's,' on his shoul-
| der.
II happened to be aware Of this mark on Mr.
Deauon shoulder from over1ae airing his sister say
that all her family had it precisely in the same
| spor aud she had looked Tor it on her nephew as
| le sat Oh my lap.
| II studied every sentence OF that letter,
| es one studies tho face Of = sick CHILD,
| looking for hope in 1t. lily love for a(r.
| Ueaue had never gone out Of my hears
(irat love never does, think, and in all tAeso
| years had kept account moro or less closely Of
| his habits and welfare. kuew that he was often
| driven from home By bis business, and that he
| was obliged to oe away many days at a time. I
sent the letter III fear aud trembling, and bided
| my time. In few days bad u notice from q
| bankiog-house il New York that certain sl:n
| would ue paid me every .ear By order OF Mts-
| Isabel Doane. It Was precisely the amount of
| the allowance had mentioned in my 1etter-not
| an e1travaEant sum, but just enough to support
| my boy NH me decentty.
.'she could spare it well enough, and, after
| al, dou'r knew why l should be sorry for do
| ing it. She had had more than her share Of
| happiness, but have often wondered how aha
| took my lutte thunderbolr. heard aho went to
| Europe with her children"
Madeleine Dejoux had said al this in high,
| constrained voice, ns II she had been wound up
| to run just so many minutes. Sne NOW shrank
| down among her pillows and seemed to be brac-
lug hersolf to receive my With in whatever form
| it might break u on her.
For one tlack instant had savage longing
! to clutch her throat and shake ont Of her what
little Life she had left, but the great joyfu1ness
| OF the tidings that could send to Isabel swept
! it away. should have beon pagan indeed to
| give another turn to the rack on which ramorse
| aud disease lad long bound her. l felt ouly
contempt for the workings Of such mind, when
| slte looked into my eyes again.
II see you have been furious" she said, read
ing No as if had been printed in the ls1gea.
type; but Aow you have turned scornful- You
used to be deyout admi1er Of Mrs. Deane, who,
with al her tamcuess. could fascinate men and
women both. know all tho wires that men arc
pulled BY, but never had woman friend unless
you will 90 that one."
II! 1. Jour friend!" said with shuddee
TINT did not Try to hide.
Never mind,' aae said YEARLY; IT can do
without it as have always. I see your interest
in ends with this interview. You would
trample me under your feet if you could help
Mrs. Deaue by 1t.
''Fhat ia OF course. l may think of
you in connection with Mira. Dcane's scr
row as one TANKS OF tho serpent in tho
| ruin Of Eve: We follow her fortune ever after,
but don't know that aaybody cared what be-
came OF that particular serpent"
81 WAS sore tempted" she pleaded, "aud
could not see my boy starve.'
''Whese is your Doy now !" ..
.'Oh, he is dead. 1 never repented ILL them"
'.And II he had Lived you would never have
| undeceiyed your victim /; you would have let hsr
drag on: her Lie in tortursns doubt Of her hus-
bands faith ="
"Yes, think so."
"And tnlnk so too" I said, drawing my
cape, which she had ncser let 20, out OF her
hand. ''You are mlstaklng remorse for repent
ance: : bat at least, to give You your due. rou
have done one good thing before it is too late"
She turned her face Away from me- With
movement Of impataence, as ii she half grudgea
even that oae white thread IN whole life woven
out Of evil, and went quietly ont Of the inflrm-
ary and ran all tho way to my o~n house.
While Madeleine Dejoux's words wore
fresh in my memory. 1 wrote every one
as she had spoken them; but they could not
reacl, Isabel in less than 3 fortnight. aud I
would not proloug her pain eTen that length OF
time.
wrote half-a-dozea telegrnms bsforo could
hit on form Of words that satisfied me.
One was: Madeleine Deiou1 has confessed
hor deception" And another: The woman
who wrote = lying letter to you is dying, but I
feared tho telegram would bo opened By
stranger, or by one Of tho children, before 1t
should roach Isabel, and tho questions aad sur
misses ~ to its meaning would be endless. At
lat settled on this: " Glad hdings OF great Joy.
Look for q letter."
Then made three copies Of aladeleine's con-
fession, and sent them on successive days to
He;delberg that Isabel might bo nearly sure Of
getting one OF them ii the others failed
Tneu rat down aul folded my hands, 50 to
speak. feeling myself the ccntra Of great
etretcl, OF peace and ealmness, as people
do after troubles ome piece OF work is fairly
finished, and folded up and laid away FOR future
use.
T never saw again tae wild, self-torturins
woman who had first stolen md then 70 .torad
t1ce of her death two Or three days after my visit
to her.
In less than two months Isabel came home,
bringing her children. Shs iooxed worn and
altered, but the sweet, soft dew Of happiness
again frightened her eyes and flushed her
cheek. Her talk, as Of old, WAS full Of simple,
innocent, womanIy matters. untouched by the
sa1c,sms which had come over the Sea IN all
these years, aud had pricized me like arrows-
We spoke no word OF all that had come and gone
between US. Wc just buried tho ugly ekeieton,
and put no stone to mark the place. But when
ste was aeain settled in her old homo, with ler
work-;ab1e in front OF alr. Deane's portrait
(which Sue hail begged from his sister). some
times caught her returning glance as shc gazed
long upon it, and I constantly read in her fsce,
.'Forgive NE, forgive me. 0 my husband!
To hear with eyes IL part Of loves nne wit,
and ours vas but woman's friendship. but
loved Isabel Deane weu enough for that.
ELLA W. THOMPSON.
Inst