The Benton record. [volume] (Benton, M.T. [Mont.]) 1875-1879, 1876-12-08

looked after them. There was a certain
earncstnes5 in his manner that drew a
curious observation from the passers-by,
but he did not heed them.
"Doyou know who that was who just dash
ed by in that carriage ?" he heard one gen
tleman say to his companion, and he turned
round quickly to catch the reply.
"No."
"The Hon. David Wallcot, Of Oregon"
the first speaker said.
"Never heard of him." his companion
remarked.
The seedy young man followed the pair,
strongly interested in what they were say
ing.
''No, he has not distinguished himself
particularly since he has been in Washing
ton, although he writes M. G. after his
name when he franks his letters. Immense
" rich-has rented fine house in Lafay-
cite Square. His sister presides overit at
present, he being unmarried, though he is
shortly to make the lady who was with him
lust now Mrs. Wallcot"
The listener tried to hear no more ;~from
what he had heard he was able to trace
out the lady's address, and that was what
lie sought.
This man in dingy garments, reader,
strange as it may appear, less than three
years before was the husband Of the VIC
man who had passed in the barouche, cloth
cd in rich silks and laces.
She was the daughter OF merchant of
St. Louis, Matthias Pardoe. She had mar
ricd a clerk in her fathers eouhtingroom
against his wishes. He had dismissed the
clerk and disinherited the daughter.
The clerks name was Roscoe Foote, and
he had failed, after long struggle, in his
attempt to keep himself and wife above pow
erty. He had acted as reporter and cor
respondent upon daily paper until his
place was filled by a more competent per
son.
His wife speedily tired of her love ro-
nance, and in something over year, IN
known to her husband, sought her father
in penitence He received her. and shut
the door in the face Of young Foote when
he found out her hiding-place.
Bessanet and her infant found a home
beneath her fathers roof while Roscoe
Foote, wifeless and childless, went out in
to the world to fight his battle, wholly dis
heartened at the outset.
Mr.. Pardoe sought and procured for his
daughter decree of divorce, and she was
free once more from the CALLING bonds she
had assumed so recklessly.
She passed the Congressional season at
her uncle's house in Washington. There
she had met Mr.. David WalIcot. Hs had
admired her, and with full knowledge Of
her history had made her the offer of his
hand. 1t was accepted.
Roscoe Foote had wandered to Wash
ington. He was without occupation, though
he had sought for it everywhere. He had
hoped to get clerEship in some Of the
government offices, but they were discharg-
ing many clerks. He had tried d great
number of the business places-in vain.
He went to the newspapers-their corps q
reporters we're already full.
1t was after these unayailing struggles
that he had seen the face of his wife rise
before him in moment as she flashed
past in an open carriage, too much oceu-
pied with her pleasure to see the eyes that
gazed at her so wildly.
Roscoe Foote, the moment he discovered
that Bessauet was in Washington, gave
himself to the task offnding where she was
staying. He learned that it was at hr.
Paschal Pardoes house, and thither he
went, but with what object he could not
tell
Some children were at play upon the
steps ofthe house. Il was two years since
lie had seen his child, but he recognized
him in an instant. Daintily clad, the lit
lie fellow was not 50 transformed as to de-
ceivo parents eyes.
Freddy Isn't your name Freddy 2"
asked The man, shaking with emotion.
"Es, sir" the boy answered, looking up
in fearless wonder at the speakers face.
Foote took tic child's hand IN bis.
rs mamma good to you, Freddy p he
asked, not knowing what to say 70 him
apd nearly overcome by the force of bis
feelings.
''No-dranpa II good to Freddy said
the child, innocenty.
The boy was quickly snatehed away, and