Louisiana capitolian., 1880-03-13
BATON ROUGE, LOUISIANA, MARCH 13, 1880.
"When You have sent him away
ono tn my rnnm wont vnu =,

"When y0u have sent him away
come to my room-I want you."
There was little delay, but when
Dorcas entered the room her mistress
was busy with a travelling bag.
"Dorcas," said she, "you have been
with me all my life-do you want to
remain with me still z"
The voice was so cold, the face SO
white Dorcas dared make no scene.
~ will go with you to the worlds
end, ma'am," she answered, teelingly.
"'Then get ready. l am going to
Boston--on from there as fast as ] can.
Tell nobody. Get your things out of
the house as secretly as possible"
"Going where7 What is the mat
ter ~ groaned Dorcas.
'Tfyou can't be quiet and obey
without q question you might stay be
hind," Lydia answered, in the same
hard natural voice. 'Be quick and
choose have no time to waste
She sat down and wrote a letter to
her husband, inclosed the torn pages
she had found, and poured out the
mad jealousy of the past weeks that
had this day eliminated.
"Ihave done now, she wrote. "Peo-
pie were right; you loved her and not
me; and now that she is rich and | am
poor, am too proud to wait till am
cast off. So l 20, and you need not
follow; you could not find me even if
you wished. Remember that hence
forth your life is free from me. Think
of me as dead, if you like. In your
hands is the only proof Of our marri-
age-destroy it; nothing will then
stand between you and peace. have
only to beg you to forgive me for al
lowing you to link your fate with a
miserable and impoverished wife in
stead of with an heiress, you hoped"
The letter ended as abruptly as it
began, and was sealed and placed on
brakes writing-table. Dorcas came
softly into the room crying little in
a quiet way. Everything was ready
they could 20.
Late that evening Leonard Drake
returned to be Mortified by the news
that his wife was not there, though
the domestic had supposed, from what
DOrcas said that she and her mistress
had gone to Dover to meet Mr.. Drake.
Leonard took a light and hurried to
his room where the first object to meet
his eyes was the letter Lydia had
written.
Five yearshad elapsedsince Lydia's
disappearance. But she looked older
even than that. The agony of that
day; the horrid flight afterwards; the
constant fear of discovery, and lastly
the struggle for bread, combined with
her never ending heartache, had be-
gun to cut wrinkles in her still fair
face.
In all this time she had never heard
of her husband nor of her early home.
She was too proud to return to her
father.
81 will starve first" she often said,
clenching hands.
Whether Leonard was alive or dead
she did not know nor did she wish to
know. Sometimes she said to herself,
moaning on her pillow at night, "He
is with Mrs. Dorchester" and the
thought went through her heart with
actual physical pain, like tho stab Of
aknife.
She and her faithful Dorcas were
settled in Boston now, in an obscure
corner, as the least likely place to be
discovered. She earned a scanty liv-
ing, and it was of the scantiest by
coloring photographs. Into the more
fashionable streets she never ven
tured, except when she had to go to
sell sketches, Or get orders. On one
of the occasions she came suddenly
face to face with Mrs. Dorchester. She
turned and fled Immediately, regard
less of her errand-hed down side
streets and close alleys--and only
stopped to breathe when she had
reached her humble lodging in one of
the most secluded parts Of the city.
But hardly had she begun to tell Dor
cas- that they must fly when Mrs. Dor
chester unannounced forced herself
into the room.
~ have followed YOU" said the lat
ter, unceremoniously, as Lydia rose
angrily. 81 will speak Mrs. Drake"
"Have the kindness to leave my
room," answered Lydia. tottering to
her feet. 1 don't know you nor the
name by which you have addressed
me-"
"You have been mad long enough"
sternly exclaimed her visitor, sitting
down, "Try to come back to your
senses / shall not go until | have ex-
planned. A few words will do it.
Your husband and |, instead of being
what you thought, were trying to
keep a great misfortune from you, or,
if that could not be done, to break it
to you carefully"
There was an air of truth about the
speaker that staggered Lydia. She
sank nervelessly into chair.
81 must tell the whole story in order
to exculpate ourselves" said Mrs.
Dorchester. "Your father got into
difficulties, forged my husbands name
to a large amount, and was on the
point of exposure when Mr.. Dorches-
ter died. The affairs then came into
my hands to SETTLE"
Lydiasatleaning both elbows on the
table before her, her face supported
on her hands, listening and looking as
if at her dOOmster.
M could have prosecuted your faith
er, but it would have sent him to die
in prison. ,'continued Mrs. Dorchester,
"and would have publicly disgraced
all his family. You, l knew by name
the wife of my cousin, with whom |