The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1882-01-12

| This was sentiment could not echo,
for at that time it seemed to me that if
were separated from my feir unseen
sweet heart my life would be stale, fiat,
and Improbable.
The correspondence was kept up all
the summer and autumn. but in Decem
Der there befell what was to me an awful
calamity Miss Screven did not write.
sent imploring letter after letter, but no
response gladdened me.
HAS she Tilted your" said Uncle Dick
heartlessly, when he noted my pale face.
In truth, could not sleep; 1 was con
sumed with fear and anxiety. What could
have befallen her?
I endured it for just ten days and then
packed my satchel and went to Boston.
Bah! what day it was when l arrived
there 1t had showed little, and then
thin. cold rain began to drizzle down
despairingly. The weather suited me
better than the garish splendor OF the
hotel, and wandered forth that evening
half-unconsciously vending my way
toward the street in which Miss Screven
boarded. 1 found myself opposite the
house. From an upper window light
struggled family between the closed
shutters and thrilled me through and
through. Perhaps she was there, ill
and alone, uncared for, save by the fner-
cenary landlady, or, worse still, by a
slatternly servant. 1 went up the steps
and rang the bell. A slip of a girl
opened the door to me, and l handed
her my card, saying mechanically, ASK
Miss Screven If size will see me"
trusted that the name John Bell
would perhaps lead her to suppose
that l was a cousin or the father of her
friend.
The slip of servant maid looked at
the card and then looked up at me.
"Frances Screven ?" she said interroga-
lively.
EYES," 1 replied. Then 1 took the
card, ran my pencil through the engraved
name, and scrawled my illegible sigma
ture below it. The servant took the
card again and skurried away, leaving
me standing there in the cold, dark
entry.
1t was several minutes before she re-
appeared, and then it was only to say in
sing-song tone. ''Three flights up; first
door to the right"
went up the three flights and raped
at the first door to the right.
A voice called out, Come in"
entered a medium-sized, plainly-fur-
nished room that was redolept of tobacco,
with which was mingled faint smell of
whisky, There were two arm chairs, a
large table covered with faded cloth,
and an old-fashioned horse-hair lounge,
from which, as l entered q young man
rose. He was thin and hollow-eyed, and
beard of several days growth made
him look, to say the least, unkempt.
"Mr. Bell, presume" he said, offering
me his hand and then drawing UP a chair
for me.
81 have called to see Miss Screven,"
said 1.
"Have you, indeed ?" he replied in a
nasty, sneering way.
It flashed through me at once. 1t was
her husband. She had deceived me
MAY ask if you are any relation to
Miss Jane Bell. OF Dundas, Washington
county, New York, post-office box 1922"
he continued, in the same sneering way.
suffered and stammered, tried to
lie, and nearly checked myself to death.
J. wanted to be diplomatic; wanted to
shield her from his anger.
"Who the devil are you, anyway ?" he
exclaimed.
Ell am John Bell" I answered;
and have called to see your sister. Is
she i'll ?"
II haven't any sister," said he nom
chantly; "that is, am my own sister,
and she has just escaped pneumonia"
The truth flashed upon me. You are
an imposter, sir r exclaimed.
"Your sister doesn't think So, said he
complacently.
II haven't any sister" said 1, in my
turn.
He wheeled sharply about: who is
Miss Bell, then 2"
IT am all the Miss Bell that exists" I
answered grimly.
"What p he exclaimed; ''you are the
petted darling who wanted to be a poet
and an essayist and Lord only knows
what all i? You are the only child Of
wealthy parents ? You are the lovely
creature who sits in q pink boudoir and
writes verses with gold pen and on
perfumed paper ?"
Eyes" said desperately.
Screven dropped into a chair and
roared. "A sell all around !" said he.
And then he laughed until he cried,
while quietly stole away back to the
boko1 a % J1or hint n vsaor man