Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1885-09-18
Mrs. Rawlings glanced at him.

'There, don't take on So" she said kindly.
'"There may be excuses for you. Old people
oughtn't to judge the young too severely"
Tell 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.
ooh, 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
one knew about the baby; how she should
have to let all be revealed unless I helped
her. She told me how she had longed for
her child, and somehow, I don't know
how, managed to get it to live with her CT
near her Oh, it's such pretty boyl Such
pretty boy, sir"
"Where can find hera" asked Carruthers.
Not that he now hoped to learn.
where? I suppose somewhere near the
child, down at Blacktown. You know the
lady's name. DON'T But you'll do what's
right, won't you, sira"
EYES," said Frank. II will do what is
right Thank you. Good morning"
He left the room, and departed by 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
be few heartfelt and appropriate words,
though only spoken by humble woman
like herself, helped on the great fight of good
against evil, righted a wrong, and made
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 a paradox is often greater than the
whole Carruthers walked and walked-out
of Gray's road-on and on-without heed
ing whittier. Such grief as he felt to-day
was new experience in mans life. When
some three months ago Beatrice told him
she could not love him, the shock as we
know was great, but in spite of it Beatrice
was still the Beatrice of his dreams Then
there was hope; there is always hope
in such cases. But now none! Not a 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 girl! Poor girl!
He could see how the boys coming to
Hazlewood House had been arranged.
Through Mrs Miller, of course. And by his
new light he was able to explain a discrep-
yybi oh boI o1y tTO1h1ad hin,
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 stranger to them ALL
He had not thought it worth while to pursue
| the inquiry.
| She, this strangely hammered woman, had
made him promise to wait. Wait for WHAT
| There was nothing to wait for. Even if he,
as he scornfully told himself he could, should
forget his manhood and be willing to take
Beatrice as his wife even now, he knew that
barrier, never to be climbed, would be
raised by her. He did not wrong her in this.
He knew that for all that had befallen she
was mourning in mental sackcloth and
ashes He had no blame to give her, no
stone to cast
She had not tried to win his love. She had
not accepted that love when offered. Too
well he knew why. Yet he knew also that
she loved him-loved him but would never
be his. The thought drove him half mad.
No friend of Carruthers' would have known
him, as, with heavy brows and bent head,
he walked through those quiet streets OF
suburban London.
But why the fights No new dread, nc
new danger could have threatened her. Did
she after all fly because he was coming tic
Lakewood House? Did she fear that her
resolution musu give way, and with one
breath she must avow her love- and with the
next tell her lover that love could not he be-
tween thems No. A word from her would
have stayed his coming. She had even as
good as asked him to come. She was not
flying from him.
Then the thought of that man who was
seeking her came to his mind. He shuddered
and bit his lip; he knew not why. But his
first thought was to trace this unknown man
and hear why he wanted Beatrice.
His mood changed. He would not seek
him. He had no more to learn. After what
he had this morning heard all inquiries all
information, could but tend to make him
more miserable. There was nothing now
left for him in the world but sheer hard
work. Work, work, work, the greatest
blessing ever given to man.
! So be walked on and on, almost crying in