Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1889-05-27

the dishonor of relationship with such s-man
as Beaple Yeo. a rogue after whom the police
had been in quest more than once. In vain did
he poke the fires of his wrath at the trickery OF
his marriage. he could not convince himself
that Salome had been priYy to it; and II not
privy to it. what right had he to treat her with
the severity he had exercised? But not even
then did it occur to him that the main element
pride
The discovery Of her parentage must have
been to Salome crushing humiliation. What
justification was there for his adding to her
burden by his reproaches and coldness? she
could not undo the past. unmake her relation
ship. His anger his resentment could not i'm
prove the situation, could not shake the truth
IF the hateful fact that he was allied to SO great
seoundreL Though she had been married
under wrong name, that would not inyalidate
the marriage even IL he wished it-even if he
wished it! Did he wish it?
He thought about Uncle Jeremiah's will, and
how that by it Salome had been left almost
sole legatee; how that the mill and everything
had been given to her and how that in mys-
terious manner that will had been cancelled.
The old haunting suspicion that his aunt had
meddled with and defaced the will returned.
He thought of her behavior when he allowed
her to see that he entertained suspicion; OF
her evasion of her promise; OF her laxity OF
principle: and he could not shake on the
thought that it was quite possible that through
her Salome had been defrauded of her rights
If So had he any right to complain II ne had
show beside Salome? And he-he, Philip-had
he shown in generous colors either?
1t was said of that distinguished epicure, the
jamais bronche." and the same may be said Of
most consciences-but not of all. As we have
seen even Mrs. Sidebottom's conscience once
felt a twinge at the same time when coDsctenees
generally do feel twinges, when too late to re-
dress wrong actions So now did Philip, as he
sat over the fire with his claret glass in his
hand, become aware that he had acted with
undue severity, and he split the claret on the
floor
Next day Philip went to the old bedroom
which he and his wife had occupied till he
changed his quarters. He found the house
maid there, who seemed startled at seeing him
enter.
Please, sir, I'm drawing down the blinds,
because Of the sum-"
II will trouble you to leave the blinds up"
said Philip. Il do not choose to have the
house-the room-look as though someone in it
were dead. Hereby the way, my room down
stairs will media thorough turn out. will re-
"Very well, SIR"
She left the chamber. He stood in it and
looked about him. Salome had left everything
tidy. Some of her drawers were open, not
many were locked. Most of her little private
treasures had been removed.
Where was the photograph on stand of Un-
Gle jeremiah? 1t had no doubt been taken
away by her. Where were tile three little owls
sitting on pen wiper? 1t was gone-and the
Christmas cards that had stood onthe chimney
piece, and the ugly glazed yellow flower vase,
given her, on her birthday. by the cook.
The clock on the chimney-piece was stopped.
Salome had wound that up regularly; her hand
was no longer there, and it had been allowed TO
run down. The room was dead without the
tick of the clock. Philip wound it up and set
the pendulum swinging. 1t ticked again, but
in formal, weary manner, unlike the brisk
and cheerful tick of old.
The room had cold, unfurnished look with
out Salome's knick-knacks-trihes in them
selves, ,sbut giving an air of refinement and
cheeriness to the apartment. He went over to
the dressing table. No combs and brushes, no
hairpins, bottles of hair oil and wash there
simply table with looking glass on it. One
little glass was there, but no flowers in it; and
hitherto it had never failed to contain some
even in winter. With what ingenuity had
Salome kept that little glass on the dressing
table bright-in winter at times with holly only,
or ivy leayes-or moss and scarlet Jews ear.
1t was the same downstairs. There the flowers
were ragged and faded in the vases. Salome
was away, who had rearranged them every
second day.
The room smeft musty, and Philip threw up
the window. He stood at 1t, and looked OUT,
dreamily. Where was Salome now? Was she
in Switzerland Had she any heart to look at
the mountains? Would the wonderful scenery
be any Joy to her-aIone?
81 can never dine as I did yesterday" said
Philip. II will ask Tomkins in"
That day he did invite Tomkins his head
traveller. But he was irritated with Tomkins
and angry with the maid, because Tomkins
seat had been put at the end of the table in
object to his eyes to rest on from Salome. The
dinner passed wearily. Philip was not. indeed,
concerned about the parlor maid examining the
mole on his neck, but he had 20 make conver-
sation for Tomkins, and to lisren to Tomkins'
commercial room tales, and to be civil to Tom
kins.
After dinner Tomkins was in no hurry to go.
He enjoyed the Pennycomeauick port and on