The Delta independent., 1889-01-15

and proper question, was wild but
Intellectual effort to break away from
him, and the rapid utterance of series
of shrill screams,
In moment there was heard the
sound Of hurrying footsteps approach
Ing from above, and there, on the
stairs, with amazement in her face,
and lighted lamp in her hand; stood
his wife, Cicely Bleakley!
And there, standing fiat against the
wall, against which she had staggered,
when Mr.. Bleakley in his astonishment
had suddenly unloosed his hold upon
her wrist, stood Mary Ann Mac
Sweeney, the hired girl.
When Mr.. Bleakley had recovered
his presence of mind, and Mrs. Bleak
lev had recovered her sealskin coat, to-
gether with divers other items of
wardrobe and jewelry, which MARY
Ann" had pre-empted" for the even
ing's expedition, and when that chest
fallen Milesian maiden had been re-
quested to take her departure the next
morning in search of victims, Mr..
Bleakley gently, almost reverently, led
his wife up stairs.
He led her directly to that cozy room
in the second story, to that room
whence the light had shone out upon
him, so short time ago, when he was
keeping that detective vigil across the
| street,
And as he sat in the comfortable
armchair, in front of the clear, bright
fire that burned upon the hearth, and
looked in his wife's sweet, pure face,
or watched her slender, graceful figure,
as she moved about like ministering
angel, bringing to him warmth, and
cheer, and comfort, who shall say how
deep his sense of shame and self-abase-
ment.
The desk, whose locked panels had
so often excited his jealous suspicious,
now stood wide open, and on it, laid
scattered about, many loose sheets of
of them had fallen to the floor.
Mr.. Bleakley stopped to pick them
up, and restore them to their place up
on the desk; us he did so, a letter float
ed out from between the loose sheets,
and at this moment Cicely entered the
room.
Again her face was suffused with
vivid blush-again she became over
whelmed with embarrassment.
Her husband-holding in his hand
the letter-which had been already
opened-asked her, in tone, into
which, despite himself, little hard
ness had crept,-
MAY read this?"
Cicely, standing before him with
bowed head, and clasped hands, and
the air of convicted culprit, murmur-
ed in low voice,
''If you WISH"
He did wish.
He first examined the envelope. 1t
bore, in one corner, the name OF an
important publishing firm, and it was
addressed to name which he recog-
nized as that of the author OF several of
the most popular novels OF the day, and
to his house.
With an expression Of bewilderment
cover, and read what was evidently
communication from a member of the
firm, whose address appeared upon the
envelope.
This communication stated that they
were then publishing seventh edition
of a book which they named, and offer
ing the person to whom the letter was
addressed, five thousand dollars royalty
on the book for the present year.
With establishment, pride, and shame,
curiously blended in his face, Bleakley
drew his wife towards him, and, point
ing to the sheets of manuscript, and
then to the letter in his hand, he said:
"Cicely, dear-what does this mean
who is this letter addressed to?n
"Oh, Tom dear, to me. l did not
mean to tell you-not just yet. I fear
ed you would not like it,-or. perhaps
would laugh. And So"
Would not like itp
What Tom Bleakley at that particu-
lar moment did not like, was himself
And what he did most particularly like,
was his wife, and he told her so.
To an impartial and uninterested OBJ
server, Mr.. Bleakley's manner of ex-
pressing himself might have seemed
somewhat incoherent, but it appeared
to be eminently satisfactory to Cicely.
And Mr.. Bleakley, also, was perfect
ly satisfied, for his first attempt as
private detective had been successful
Where is the stamp?
spied in paper one day,
While languidly looking for news,
A sentence that filled me with Joy: