Waterbury evening Democrat., 1888-04-23
R E T R I B U T l 0 N.
BY seTHE DUCHESS"
CHAPTER ".

CHAPTER W.
 1t Is quite 6 o'clock as Nadine leaves the house in Park lane and turns her lace homeward. It is very dark for even an April evening, and the lamps are all agloW, making her immediate world SC pretty that she is rather glad than otherwise of her inability to meet with an empty tram car, and turning into Picca- ally, walks 1eisure1y down it's pictur- esque hill with thorough appreciation of the charms surrounding her. It is late, certainly, but women-unless they 20 half way to meet it-seldom meet with 1mpertlnence; and Nadine, pretty and distinguished in appearance as she is, pursues. her way in an even, uninter- rupted fa,hion toward Regent circus.
 A great, bulky woman, loaded with parcels, coming somewhat abruptly against her, stops her progress for mo- ment, and compelling her to swerve aside, throws her almost into the arms of 8 tall man, who very gravely laid his hand upon her arm. A little shock runs through Nadine's veins. She stops dead short, and looks up at her companion in a dull, stupid way. She grows deadly white, and her heart feels as though it were about to stop beating
 "Ahl you! MT. Duran,' she says faintly. 'You-you frightened me T." she pauses.
 It is impossible to account to him in any natural way for the emotion that is overpowering her.
 He is man of grave exterior, hardly good looking, but with strange, earn est expression, that goes far to redeem the irregu1arity of his features. He is about 35, but looks considerably older than his age, as some men will. Grief, said many, aged him-his wife having been taken from him when he was only 26, and when he had seen but two anniversaries of his wedding day. But as usual, gossip was wrong; those two unhappy years of welded bliss having convinced MT. Duran that all was vanity, so far as his wife was con- cerned. In truth, he had never loved her, but only learned that fact too late.
 There is suggestion of strength in his whole face, and specially in his mouth and lower jaw, that makes itself felt, and would perhaps be oppressive but for the almost womanish softness and gentleness of his large hazel eyes. A heavy mustache cOnceals a handsome mouth, and it and the hair about his brow are slightly tinged with gray.
 "Clytie writes to me to say she misses you terribly" MT. Duran says presently.
 They have turned, and are now thread ing their way slowly through the ever increasing crowd. Conversation under the circumstances is difficult.
 "Dear little thingp' says Nadine warmly, and more naturally than she has yet spoken. This other little pupil of hers, this little daughter of the grave man walking beside her, is very dear to her. "Tell her miss her too. Will you tell her that, MT. Duran, please, when you write, and that I count every day to the one that will bring her back to me?'
 1T shall tell her."
 Then he looks at Nadine keen1y. The girl seems to feel the earnestness of his regard, because presently she throws up her head, as if in challenge, and looks straight at him.
 'sYou are thinking?'' she asks rather defiantly
 "How impulsively you express your- self, and how tenderly-and how uncer- tain am whether you mean it or not"
 "You give yourself great trouble to thus study your daughters governess," replies she coldly,
 They have reached crossing and tram car at the same time.
 "You will permit me to see you home?'' says MT. Duran quietly.
 "No, thank you. There is no necessity. This''-indicating the tram car-ewill leave me almost at nay own door.''
 ''Still, if you will allow mel
 ''You are very kind, but I would not give you so much trouble for the world.n
 There is a decision about her manner, gentle as it is, not to be mistaken.
 "As you will, of course,'' says MT. Du- ran, ''and having seen her carefully into the car he draws back, and lets her pro- ceed on her way alone.