The Louisiana Democrat. [volume] (Alexandria, La.) 1845-1918, 1886-05-12

| o great misfortune-a misfortune
which seems nearly to have broken his
heart He married O worthless woman,
! Who
"Great heavens!' groaned the poet,
wringing his moist hands together.
| Phil turned and stared at him.
"a worthless woman" said Mrs.
Tregarthen from her Swallowed corner,
in voice so unlike her own that both
her hearers started. Eyes. Go on. "
"You are i'll, madam cried the
youngster rising to his feet.
"Oh!" besought Marsh, rising also,
and turning an imploring look up
on her, pursue this interview no
farther
"Be seated" she said, in voice less
painfully disguised by emotion, but
still strangely harsh. II will not keep
Mr. Maurice in the dark any longer. l
beg your pardon" she continued, to
the amazed visitor, eff have seemed
to try to entrap you. But you will tell
me everything about him-you, who
know him so well? | have had nobody
W tel1 lilc IL NOtu dDOllt liilil III ICpl
and-I-s-n Mrs. Tregarthen''
CHAPTER XII. .ss
The situation was sufficiently embar-
RAISING. At the moment Mrs. Ire
garthen, Marsh and Phil each felt it to
be nothing less than terrible. Phil was
an especially sensitive lad, unusually
swift TO like people, and splendidly GER
tain of the accuracy Of his own secret
intmtions. lie had met nobody who
had so impressed him as Mrs. Tregar-
then. He was sure that she was as
good, as pure and womanly as she
looked-as pure as the sweet, perse-
cuted Bertha in the poets comedy.
The faint smile he had twice seen upon
her face had fingered in his mind as
that of a saint in pain. He had identi-
fled her with the part he had seen her
playa thing always easy for ardent
youth, and common enough in the ex-
perience of actresses who are not mod
els of all the virtues, or embodiments
of wit and sweet temper. That for
once the natural fancies of a raw lad
were justified was nothing to him. He
could have been quite as certain of
their truth if he had pitched on new
Jezebel. And he had called this suffer-
ing incarnation of goodness-t her
face-a worthless woman!
The poet..for his part, had the misery
of knowing that he was responsible for
the encounter and the shocking result
which had sprung from it.
A better artist would have told his
story better, and would have wasted
less time on non-essentials, but it is not
too late to say here what should have
been set forth earlier. An intellectual
fOp had grown into man and had put
away childish things, the man had
fallen in love, in no better or worse
fashion than common, and his passion
had ripened and sobered into most
tender friendship and most profound
respect. He saw genius in Mrs. Ire
garthen's work upon the stage, sorrow
uncomplainingly endured and unde.
served in her daily life; and to his
mind, after many years of intimacy,
her soul was an entire and perfect
chrysolite. He loved her still, as 8
poet and gentleman can love 8
| woman who is out of the reach of de.
sire, and the phrase the hapless Phi
had used went through him like knife
Mrs. Tregarthen was true to her in.
stincts, and was persuaded that here,
as always, the guilt was hers. She had
entrapped the young man into this ter.
rible position. 5f%ssEE
Forgive me- she said, brokenly
II wanted to hear of him. l have not
heard of him for so long"
Forgive me- said the poet, almost
i'll the same breath with her. II would
have died rather than expose you to
this indignity, and yet 1 did it,"
Phil stood silent, but his face and at.
titude were enough for, retractation
and apology. He had to believe in
Arthur in spite of everything, his
savior and benefactor and friend, but
he believed none the less in Mis-:
Churchilrs goodness. The unknown
Mrs. Tregarthen might have been
guilty of anything in the world, but
this unhappy lady was maligned. The
mere fact that thousands of men have
been just so certain as himself, ant
have proved themselves mistaken, was
of course, nothing to him. The other
fact, that he was right, made his in
fatuation none the wiser. But now anC
then, even in this poor world, the sou
has happy hopes that are justified, ant
beliefs in goodness which are not thrown
away. w. -..-. -.--- -.-.--..-...... -,
"Dear friend,'' said the actress
speaking through her tears, "let me tel
you the whole truth. Twas to blame.
| have known it, bitterly, always. But
have never deserved to be thought a
worthless woman" Both hearers
would have gone to the stake in sup
port of that postulate without sec
ond's hesitation. .'When my father
died Lima and / were left in poverty.
and | came to London as a governess.
There were private Il; ,,il;cals al the
house where I was engaged, and l was
asked to play in them. [ was praised
so highly that1 thought l might sue.
coed upon the real stage, and that
would have enabled me to do so much
for Lima. We had looked at the Era
to see where to hire our dresses for the
private theatricals, and saw advertise
ments there for actors and actresses.
looked again and answered one or two
OF them, and at last got an engage
ment."
She went on with her story, telling it
plainly and without ornament, and
growing more and more self-possessed as
she told it. She told of her first encount-
er with Lorrimer, her professional en-
gagement with him. and her receipt of
the letter from Messrs. Lane & Carter,
which informed her of the disposition