The Stark County Democrat. [volume] (Canton, Ohio) 1833-1912, 1882-04-27

he said. "It will do you more good than
you can imagine.
A great many gentle hearts felt pang
to see the good doctor" leave, although
their endeaYOrs to catch him had been in
vain. He had recovered from his disap-.
pOintment, and he ceased to remember
that he was a married man, or to think
kindly of the woman who had so radi-
cally changed his life.
They travelled leisurely through the
tour they had marked out before they
started, add one night found them in a
French village. About the middle of the
night the doctor was awakened by some
one tapping at his door, and calling for
him to come out.
He did so. He found the landlord, who
told him in broken English that one of
his cOuntrymen had Just fallen down in
a hit, and seeing his name registered Nj.
d. they called him up.
He went into an elegantly furnished
room, where a man some fifty years of
age was lying in dying condition. A
young lady sat by the bed tanning him.
The doctor hastily examined the patient,
and found him unconscious. 1t was inn
possible for him to live, the doctor said
but the day passed, and still another, be-
fore he drew his last breath. He never
recovered his consciousness.
The lady told DR.. POmerOy that he was
her father. His name was Eugene
Syndeham, native of England, and she
would like to have him buried where he
died. They were travelling for the bene-
fit of her health, she went on to explain,
and he was widOwer. Her only re-
naming relative was a young sister,
who was being educated in the convent
of the Sacred Heart of Paris.
After MIR. Syndeham was buried, Miss
Syndeham went, under the care of the
doctor and his mother, to Paris. She in
sisted on their taking up their abode
where she had apartments, and so not a
day passed but she was with Mrs. Pom
erOy. The old lady got warmly attached
to her, and talked dOlefully to her son
about the time when they should have to
be separated.
She told them cOnfidentiaIly not to
wonder that she did not mourn for her
father, for he had endeavOred to wrong
her so deeply that it was not love that
held her to his side; and in all her life
she had never been so happy as now that
she was free.
DR.. POmerOy watched her. At first he
was very gallant, but at last he began to
be reserved and cold. A feeling he dared
not cherish was growing in his heart,
and it alarmed him greatly.
81 dare not love her." he muttered to
himself, 81 am bound"
Then, for the first time, he felt how
heavy were the fetters he had forged for
himself. She noticed the change. She
tried to beguile him to forget the grief
that was evidently wearing on him; and
at last, in fit of desperation, he told
her all.
81 am a married man. he said impetu-
Ously: 81 love you; and yet am not free
to lOvep'
She recoiled, but bade him to tell her
all.
'It was cruel, unkind to bind you so,'
she said.
'NO, mol" he calculated. "She saved
me--she blessed me-and 1 shall always
respect her, but never did my bonds hurt
me till | met you. Now shall be miser-
able forever.
"YOu may meet her"
"ImprObable"
"But possible, she said, with sorrow
full look. 81 know your Ellen LatOuT.
She lives, and [ must give you up
'YOu know her"
Eyes; tomorrow l will introduce you
to her. She is anxious to see you; she
knows you are here, and-she believed
you loved me, and wondered if you were
as upright as she always thought you
to be-"
He bowed his face in his hands, and
Miss Syndeham left him. The hour had
days-he was to learn whom he had
welded; but it gave him no pleasure
now.
At an early hour the servant told him
that Miss LatOur awaited him in the pri-
Vate parlOT, and he was ushered into a
strange room. He scarcely lifted his
eyes as he entered, but when he did, they
fell upon Miss Syndeham.
81 am Ellen LatOur," said she calmly.
10 L
anticipated revealing the truth to yOu,"
she said.
"The man whom you saw die was my
stepfather. He married my mother when |
was but five years old, and sister Ada a |
baby. My mother was weakly, and she |
died few years later, leaving all our
fathers property in that mans hands. |
He was our sole guardian, to hold our
property under his control until we were
married or became of age. He placed
me in the Sacred Heart, and kept me
there until L was sixteen, and then he
took me out, and proposed to marry me
to a friend of his. Irebelled. One night
heard conversation between them,
and found that he was selling me for
twenty thousand dollars, that was to be
paid down to him out Of my property the
moment Turner became my husband.
was shocked. L had no friends to 90 to,
and was totally at a loss what to do. He
did not allow me to go into society; /
made no acquaintances, and instead of
allowing me to stay in my mothers
house, he kept me travelling about the |
country.
cat last proposed to compromise. 1 |
told my stepfather to take me to America, |
and when [ returned l would marry his |
friend. He complied, and got my maid |
to gossip with one of the servants of the |
hotel. and by chance she told her your |
history, as her sister worked for your
mother. Just before l started from
England an uncle of my mother left me
fifty thousand dollars in my own right, |
which my stepfather could not touch. /
had it transferred to New York, and de-
termined to save myself with it. Hear
ing of you l adopted the plan of getting
you to marry me. When we returned to
England my stepfather commanded me
to fulfill my promise; 1 showed him my
marriage certificate. He swOre, but he
saw his case was lost; 1 had Out-witted
him. l did not leave him but remained
to protect my sister Ada from a similar
fate. l never expected to meet you. L
intended to have you sue for divorce
as soon as he should die, and it would
not endanger my safety"
"But this intention will never be car
ried into effect, DR.. POmeroy exclaimed.