The Arkansaw traveler., 1885-04-04

nnued, slipping a band set with tur. quoises of his finger and handing 1t to me. Inside was the legend, In grateful memory of faithful service" returned the ring to Wardlaw.
 Well, this is all very interesting" said l." but hardly see how it throws . special light on the question of woman's faith or unfaith."
 " Perhaps l am not telling the story we'll" said Wardlow, lighting fresh ci- gar "perhaps am too familiar with it myself to make it very clear to another ; but think you viii understand it when 1 am done. Do you remember Henry Wythe, the English actor, who played for year or two in America2 Rather before your day, fancy"
 Who returned to England and aban- doned the stage, and took orders and preached for awhile2 recall him I think"
 He was the man. became ac- quainted with him while he was in Amer ica. nine years before the amputation of Mrs. Van Weeks beautiful left hand Wythe was splendid fellow in every waysand of fine scholarly turn of mind :; he would never take part without a thorough study of everything which seemed to him to have the least bearing on the motives of the characters or inci- dents of the play. As you may guess, he was constantly adding to large stock of miscellaneous information, aad he was certainly one of the most agreeable and entertaining companions I ever met, and a beautiful specimen of youthful man. hood.
 . Wythe was a dark brunette, with large tender black eyes, and his natural manner was sad and reserved; he had a fine figure, dressed faultlessly, and was in every way gentleman. In the course of his study he thought general knowl- edge of toxicology needful and thus re- ceived an introduction to me. l liked him exceedingly and we became warm friends; he finally gave me many per- son il nhdences, one of which," said Wardlaw with his disagreeable smile, "l am about to violate. His engagement here was remarkably successful, and was surprised to see in a Sunday paper an announcement that he was permitted to cancel his contract, and was very soon to return to London.
 The following Monday, about four in the afternoon, he called on me. In the course of conversation l expressed my surprise at his sudden determination to leave America.
 "' am exiled,' he said, with his usual smile.
 "' 1 fanoied our republic was the home of all exiles,' said with smile.
 "' have promised to leave the United States at once and forever,' said Wythe.
 ." Might l enquire the cause of prom se which brings regret to so many 
 "' It is the sentence of the queen.'
 "Of England ?
 "' Of my life. Shall tell you story the name of the principal char. acter? would not give you the name if could, Wardlaw-perfect as is my in you; and I could not give t to you if l would, for I do not know it myself
 "' A strange thing
 "' Strange and true, and the story of ny whole life, 1 think, said Wythe in a one of the deepest sadness. Do not augh at me Wardlaw,' he continued
 l know you do not believe in any hing All you young fellows think that ,f me. Pm sure 1 don't know why," 'aid Wardlaw, with his customary smile, not quite so disagreeable as lsual.
 "' know you do not believe in any, hing-lea-t I of all, love. have been in owe for year, with the most beautiful, he tenderest and most gracious woman
 ever knew. love her more than my ite, and she sends me from her now, md puts the Atlantic between us, to make our separation complete and cer- aiu.'
 "' There is an insurmountable barrier "a cruel fate p asked.
 :" For a year and a month"; said Nythe, there has been no barrier, no ate. Her love was noble and entire as Ter womanhood. She made me promise | before ever saw her face, not only not | Q seek her identity, but to carefully avoid it. only know she is in the | highest circles of society, and that my owe has been to her, as hers has been to | ne, a revelation of deeper, higher, and uller life than 1 had dreamed before | net her. l saw her yesterday for the last ime-by the sea in lonely spot on the -ong Island coast--for one little hour. | was an instant, and an eternity
 And you are never to meet again ?
 "' Never. And shall never see-her hild,' said Wythe, with short pause be- ween the words
 " And this is really all p said I. 1 hink my voice expressed something of he pity felt for Wythe's evident agony, or he said, All. All there is of life, for ne. l am glad l have told you have lever before breathed one syllable of this 0 any one. It is all, all-save this ring, lothing remains-this ring, and memory Vythe extended his hand, which bore a ride, plain band of gold, with the in- cription, My own hearts darling,' on he outer surface.
 " Ire legend was hers,' said Wythe, peaking with deepest intonation of mel ncholy: we exchanged rings bearing he same worlds
 "'How can she wear such a ring if here is, as suppose-'
 "'Do not say it, Wardlaw. would ather mi hAar tf GhA InAs ~.>>. aA |