Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-03-27

my fatigue. Tired, exhausted-even more from disappointment than physical exertion--I went to sleep, my last con- nected thought being: ''I was a fool to expect to find her the 1 first day" Without dreams, without waking. I slept on till the dawn of my second days search The days that followed seemed to be sapping at the citadel of my life, with their harassing vexations: their false, fluttering hopes; their con- tinual miserable defeats There was this moment the eager, absorbing hope, almost belief: then the instanta- neous sinking. Could she be there l and not find her-I. in whom the de- sire, the longing had now become well I nigh ungovernable? It is Victor Hugo who says that love. while it consumes, Eliminates. At this period, 1 felt only the devouring; was not conscious of the 1 light.
 When had been in Montreal fort night, received letter from Mrs. Jer- dan, saying that Gilroy was getting on slowly, but safely. That comforted me greatly.
 Four weeks of this life. I determined on going to Boston and seeing Miss Clare's uncle. It was in the afternoon
 that I resolved to go by the evening
 train. It happened to be the day conse-
 crated to a patron saint of the city.
 Crowds of people were moving in the
 streets that led to the cathedral. Since
 my stay in Montreal, I had made one of
 every gathering. So, sauntering from
 my hotel, joined the stream of human
 beings. The instant was fairly with
 them became alert, my glances falling
 rapidly on each lady that was near, and
 prying with persistent search over the
 heads to those at q distance.
 Borne unresistingly by this living tide,
 1 entered the cathedral and leaned
 against a pillar. Becoming insensibly
 affected by the organ and the chanting,
 closed my eyes and gave myself for the
 moment into the arms of that inetfable
 ecstasy which music only can invoke.
 Still with my eyes closed. still with my
 soul infused by tho harmo, gradually
 upon my senses there stol,' faint per
 fume, peculiar and rare-a fragrance
 which 1 knew only by its being insepa
 rable from Miss Clare. Thrilled with
 unspeakable happiness 1 remained an in
 stant longer with shut eyes, transported
 by that music and that vision.
 The last melodious flute in the organ
 died away ill sweetness. looked around
 In all that crowd I saw only a woman
 who knelt two seats in front of where I stood. Her back was toward me. She
 was dressed in black. A long veil fell down and almost encircled her. In her
 form, in her position, there seemed that
 indescribablc air, that high bred grace } which is innate, and never acquired My temples throbbed. my whole frame , quivered with suppressed expectation.
 Miss Clare was in Montreal; this must be
 Miss Clare. This was the only woman had ever seen who resembled her. As
 I watched her she raised her handker. chief to her face. Again that exquisite perfume. I could not see her face-not
 the slightest outline of it.-but her figure was the same; there seemed the same } supple elasticity.
 Patiently I waited, hardly conscious of } the pushing, vibrating crowd around me. At last the mass was said, the procession 3 formed and winding out from the gothic , entrance. The unknown lady rose; she 3 leaned with careless elegance over the
 railing, one hand by her side holding a ;; shining, purple bound prayer book At
 sight of that book shadow darkenetl ] me-. Miss Clare might come to high
 mass, but would she have prayer book: Q She slowly turned her head; my fingers
 frightened over my walking stick. saw Q the profile of handsome face, with
 beautiful eyes, but it was not the face of e Viviane Clare. turned and fled. lean e use no other word for the headlong speed
 with which 1 left the church. wan a dered with blind rapidity; thought S was trying to find my hotel, but when y reused myself 1 was in a different part d of the city. My hurried walk became a o slow plodding with downcast eyes.
 I only reached the hotel in time tC l, start for the depot. l stopped at the
 town where Mrs. Jerdan lived. MT
 Gilroy was still confined to his room d he had been severely wounded. e did not venture upon an interview with r him, but posted to Boston. was right e in feeling sure that Gilroy would never t mention how he became hurt. He imag d ined revenge sweeter than that. it In Boston I found MT. Clare, by the
 aid of the directory. He lived in hand h some house, in fashionable locality
 uuu AlSellCIASSIJ udeSu iilul LOT lt as
 mounted the broad steps.
 }. My powers of observation and penetra a ton all rallied to my help when Mir d Clare at last came into the parlor to set
 me. II must be mistaken in my idea O II this man." I said to myself as I looked l. at him when he returned my bow. 1T A man somewhat past middle age, hi l. dark hair whitened, his mild eyes lighted 1T only by an expression of courteous in l. quiry. "This man has been duped by @ Gilroy," thought.
 n He looked at my card and said: l MT. Perrom, pray be seated" d sat down again. did not like hi le voice: it was not in accordance with hi d face. was going to surprise him, for If %lo,,rI,t I cbo,,ld thoy, 6iccovor mora