Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-07-06

came from no one knew where, have her fathers picture upon the wall2 Was the fact of It's face being turned in to be considered an insult, or what? Her blood began to leap through her veins like molten lava, but she was suddenly aroused from this state of stupefaetion that had como over her, spite Of tho man. nor in which her blood was boiling, by tho voice of Roger.
 'Carolr'
 simple pronunciation of her name, l but there was that in tho tonc that caused her heart to seemingly stand still. She slowly turned. Roger had only obtained a glimpse of l tho faco that was incloscd in tho gold franc and turned to the wall, and ho had not recognized 1t, Of course. His mind, too, was upon other things and he paid | little heed to the emotion of the young girl save as it referred to him. "CarOlr
 She read much in tho manner of his prOnOunctng her name. It had always l sounded like music from his lips, for lovo made him speak it as no other could; but now. besides reverence she could read passion but half suppressed, wild en- treaty and fadeless, deathless love in his voice.
 | Gone were all other thoughts. 1 Sho knew that perhaps the greatest trial of her life was before her, and she took long, deep breath, as If che could draw in with it inspiration and courage to do that which reason told her was right, even when her heart cried out against it's bitterness.
 Hc came step closer to her.
 His arms wore held out, his pleading eyes fixed upon her own with a glance that was almost fascination.
 How sho lonyed to throw herself into those arms and be forever at rest; but she knew full we'll guilt would never let her rcst. and, with heroism worthy of the olden martyrs, she stillcd her throb- ping heart as best she could and held back.
 The temptation had just then been al- most beyond her endurance, but she had triumpncd, and from this time on tho vic tory was in her hands.
 What did she believe of him, standing there and looking him in the eyes?
 The story of Nora Warner, as told by that unfortunate girl herself, must have flashed into her mind like lightning, but with her eyes upon Roger Darrcls hand some. honest face, she was as sure that he could do no wrong to any one willfully aS that she drew breath.
 That Nora Warner was his vretched wife she understood too well, for had he not himself acknowledged the stain upon his name2 But that he had acted the part of @ villain toward her Carol could never believe.
 Ever since hearing what Barbara Mer- riles had to say, she had deemed him in- nocent of any wrong, such was her love and trust, and this it was that made her believe in him through all
 They had called Nora Warner mad Why should she not, therefore, imagine even moro wonderful and moro terrible things than those she had told to Carol?
 She had seen demented peple before, and knew their vagarles-knew that oft times they cursed the hand that cared for them, and reviled the ono who loved and cherished them since childhood, as If she had been 0 devil on earth instead of on angel.
 Wonderful. Is 1t not, what things dart through tho mind in @ flow seconds of timer
 Roger could bear the silence DO longer.
 When he spoke his voice vibrated with emotion, which he tried in vain to sup press.
 "Carol, my own love. for tho last time I come to you. @ suppliant. Pride has given way before the love that floods my soul. and, unable to restrain tho words that rush to my lips, 1speak on, 1t may be to my doom. You may hate mo for thus tempting you. but God knows do not look at 1t In the same light you do. Tho shame of the past Is buried in the madhouse. Why should this woman come between us?
 "Listen to mo, dear Carol. told you once you wero my first love, and I toll you the same now. No matter what happens in the future, believe that, and also that shall be faithful to you until death takes mo hence. Oh, my poor darling, why were you cur ed with love like mine, that seems to blight where it falls; and yet God Is my witness that If could servo you by having my poor body tortured, willingly would undergo the infiiction. You believe me, do you not, beloved9"
 "You know do, Roger. You know that my heart Is wholly yours, and ever will be, but once again I tell you what you ask can never be. There rests be- tween us barrier as deep and unfathom- able as the abyss through which the river passes on its way to the sea-a bar. Tier as high as the noblest peaks of the mountains, and over which even love aa powerful as ours cannot reach. My heart is breaking, Roger, but better that 1t should do so with love than shame and disgrace"
 Shame and disgrace" he muttered, repeating her words almost uncon' sciously, and with a vague look upon his face.
 7 Forgive mo for saying it, dear, but } cannot ever be your wife while Nora Warner lives. Her death can wipo out the shame, nothing else. Until then we can be nothing to each other"
 A light lea ped into his face that was most wonderful to see. It seemed transfgured, and the sadness of woe un' [ | utterable gave way to tho brightness o1