The Dickinson press., 1889-08-24

The Ar,d hues Of death ,pon hcr face.
II told you that you should know all
about mo tomorrow. SO you will-no
doubt of that. The sleuth hounds will
tell you all when they find that have
escaped them. am hunted down at
last. There's only one refuge left for me,
and they will not follow me there. Some
how feel now as if had always known
this hour would come; have kept some
thing ready for it, as you will find to-
morrow. heard Dashwood's voice, and
when he sees my face hc will tell you
who am. And he will guess, what you
have not suspected, that it was who
shot the man you saw rs Bcrcsforl. lie in
suited me- threatened nc; had my little
American pistol with me, and shothim
Oh, Paul, have somo mercy onmy mcm-
ory! Don't, don't think me all bad! You
wouldn't, if you could only know tho
martyrtlom in which llavo cNpiatcd my
past-thc hopes had of a better life!
And this last deed is no crime. have
rid the world of ono not fit to live lie
had no mercy on me, and showed him
none He was the curse of INV life from
first to last owo him worse than death
for the wreck and ruin ho made of me!
"Bclicve the worst they tell you of me
all, except one thing. or the worst
crime laidto my charge, am innocent.
OF the murder in which was accused of
completely four years ago, am as inno-
cent as little Amy. But who would be-
lievc it of Il woman who has led my
life? | was acquitted, but know how
few really thought mo innocent say
again, believe all of me except that. You
have seen the children with me- Don.
you think their little white souls would
have felt it, if that had been true? My
hands were clcan-clcan of blood guilt
ncss-until last night!
"And all today couldn't bear the
children to be near mc-it seemed so
strange they didn't shrink away. And
yet, you saw, they cluns to INC, all I'M
conscious! And now shall never see
their littlo faces again. might have
braZcncd this out, as have bravcd crises
nearly as bad, but since I've known you
have been changed. have felt as
used to feel when was Il girl, ignorant
and innocent; for there was a time when
| was not all unworthy And l might
have been Il good woman if | had
known you earlicr-if had ever
had a love like yours to lean
upon! AS it is, you hlvo had a lucky
escape from me. For-now | say il
dying, who never owned it to you living
Il loved you, Paul!-lovcd you as we'll
as Il better woman might have loved
Now, good-by. Do try to forgive mel
and if you can't forgive, then try to for
yet me! never would havo wrongcd
you, but you are we'll rid of me- Think
of me sometimes, but never think of me
as Lydia Walbrooi! | left that hated
name-tlat accurscd Ifc-bchind when
l came here. Think of me, Paul. only as
tho heart broken woman who loved you
better than tho life she is glad, glad to
leave. Ncvcr-ncvcr more Iy,lia!-only
your lost and most miserable
"LUcY."
Years passed away At I[azclmcad,
Paul Norton's painting room was shut
up; tho dust gathered ON deserted easel
and old portfolios, and on the one pict-
lue which remained thcrc-onc picture
turned with its face to the wall
Homo had been sweet to him once,
but now it was homo no more Whcn-
ever he WAS there the bitter waters of
memory went over him; he could not
bear the associations that filled the place;
every corner was haunted by tho image
of the woman whom lie had deemed so
good and pure, who was Il sin stained
waif and stray, notoriols-Tor it
was but Il few years since tho name
Of Lydia Walbroo!s hal been on
every mans lips in a yet unforgottcn
cause cclcbre)-the acconplicc of Grim
inals-and at last a criminal herself.
He never spoke of tho blow that had
crushed his heart, but the mainspring of
life was broken i'm him All his asso-
ciatcs found him Il changed man; his
few intimatcs said among themselves
that Norton had undergone some terrible
experience and would never be the same
again. He strovc to absorb himself in
work, to devote himself to his art; but
his nature was too emotional, too deep
perhaps too narrow and too little inas-
nativc-for art and ambition to fill the
vacant place of love. Success WAS as
Dead sea fruit to him; and against fail
ure, when failure came, he had no tails
man of sweet home lovo and faith to
comfort him. He had sent all his hopes
his faith, his very heart of life, to sea, in
with all on board.
And SO years rolled away; and at last
illness struck him down; his failing hand
had to lay tho brush aside, and then,
weak and lonely, he thought of the old
home and of his early days; then the
tender memories of old ovcrllowcd the
bitterness Of the later past; and then he
went back to LIazclmcal as they be-
sought him to return and be cared for
among his own peoplc--wcnt back AS they
all saw too soon, never to leave it more
1t was his fancy to have his old "dcn' ar
ranged as his sleeping room AS he
gave Instructions for the moving of his
furniture, his eye dwct on the picture
leaning with its face to the wall, just as
he had turned it years ago when he went
away.
Leave it, he said; don't touch it
let it be as it has bcen!' 80 in that room,
possessed By memories" he lay and
waited for death; and through the long
nights and weary days, who shall say
what ghosts haunted him? We're they
all dark shadows of tile tragedy and
horror of the PASTOR did softer visions
minglc with them, OF the tender dreams
and golden hopes that once were here
and his:-did he recall those sweet hours
thnt lie had passed here before the black