The Ottawa free trader. [volume] (Ottawa, Ill.) 1843-1916, 1885-09-05

"Ihcrc, don't take on so" she Sald kindly.
"There may be excuses for you. Old people
oughtn't to Judge the young too severely"
"Tol me all she said, every word" gasped
Carruthers. He had forced the woman to
give him this bitter cup, and he meant to
drain it to the dregs,
"Oh, poor dear! she told me all. Told me
how she had been forced to make her secret
known by my husbands claiming the child
My heart bled for her. She told me how no
ono knew about the baby; how she should
have to let all he revealed unless | helped
her. She told me how she had longed for
her child, and somehow, don't know
how, managed to get it to live with her CT
near her o. it's such pretty boy! Such
IA pretty boy, sir"
"Wherc can find her9" asked Carruthers.
Not that he now hoped to learn.
"Wherc! | suppose somewhere near the
child, down at Blacktown. You know the
lndy's nam. don't. But you'll do what's
right, won't you, sir"
"Yes," said Frank. 81 will do what is
right Thank you. Good morning"
Ilo left the room, and departed 10y the way
he had come Mrs. Rawlings returned to
her interesting occupations. She knew the
name neither of her visitor nor of the lady
whom she had seen at Blacktown, but to this
day, when she recalls the look of what she
believed to be remorse on the young mans
face, she is happy in the thought that it may
loo few heartfelt and appropriate words,
though only spoken by "A humble woman
like herself, helped on the great fight of good
against evil, righted wrong, and made u
sister woman happier. May such mistake
occur to many Of us. 1t causes consolation.
A worthy soul, Mrs. Rawlings Never
theless, we will now bid her adieu, and hope
that the business in Gray street continues to
flourish.
But Frank Carruthers! Poor Frank whose
researches had led him into such, straits.
Who had learned the terrible half truth
which by n paradox is often greater than the
whole. Carruthors walked and walked-out
of Gray road-on and on--without heed
ing whittier. Such grief as he felt to-day
was Il new experience i'll mans life. When
some three months ago Beatrice told him
she could not love him, the shock Us we
know was great, but in spite OF 1t Beatrice
was still the Beatrice of his dreams Then
there was hope; there is always hope
in such cases. But now none! Not vestige!
He laughed bitterly as he thought Of the
hours he had spent endeavoring TO find the
cause of what he had called Beatrice's com.
plaint-of her general apathy and indiffer-
ence to the world at large. Now he had got
at the very germ of the disease No wonder
she was cold and reserved with such secret
to carry--such a dread overhanging her.
Poor grill Poor grill
He could see how tho boys coming to
Hardwood House had been arranged.
Through Mrs Miller, of course. And by hii
new light he was able to explain discrep
ancy which had always troubled him. Or
the night when she babe him hope and wait
| the nurse had told him that Beatrice had
saved her years ago from starvation, where.
as, Horace had told him, that until she CAME
| to the house, she was a stranger to them all
He had not thought ii worth while to pursu'
the inquiry.
She, this strangely hammered woman, hal
made him promise to wait. Wait for what
There was nothing to wait for. Even II he
a. he scornfully told himself he could, should
forget his manhood and be willing to taxi
Beati ice rs his wife even now, 10 knew cha