Waterbury evening Democrat., 1890-09-12

and the description of how to reach her house, she put in her pocket. The others she left in her bureau, where Mir. Parker subsequently, found them, With these and a small sum of money in her hand she stnrted out of the house. but she had not gone moro than block before she realized that she was i'll prepared in dress for such jour ney. Not knowing what to do she stopped at a street corner for R moment in confu- sion. There she was approached by a poor ly dressed woman who begged for charity. On the impulse of the moment Mrs. Brown- low exchanged her costly opera cloak for the woman's cheap but large shawl, This garment so disguised her that no one whom she met on the journey suspected for a mo- ment that she was really in full evening dress. The cloak afterwards found in the river may be accounted for in any way that suits the reader. The police believed that the woman to whom it was given com mitted suicide, and it is probable that the body found and identified as that of Mrs. Brownlow was In reality none other than that of the woman to whom the cloak had been given.
 Mrs Brownlow, arriving at the railway station nearest to the point where Mary Donnelly lived, had not ventured to take d carriage. She felt likc conccaling her re- treat and had already become somewhat startled and ashamed of her course. So she walked a long and dreary tramp through the night, and it was not until early morn- ing that she finally found her way down thO steep and ricIety stars of the cliff to tho house where Mary Donnelly lived. The strain and exposure consequent to her flight had thrown her into a distressing ill- ness, and the scanty means for providing against such a calamity in the house, and her absence from her husband, tended to make her recovery all the more slow. Still, rl,, ..I~ notify Mir. Brownlow or any of her relatives of her situation. It was her intention, as soon as she should recover, to make her way back home and explain every thing. Time had passed, however, day after day, without substantial progress being made, and as the people under the cliff never saw anewspaper and rarely met any body from the outside world, no news came to them of Mir. BrOwnlow S arrest, trial and conviction. It was when Mary Donnelly had gone over to Yonkers one day for provisions that she heard conversation on the street regarding the matter, and, making further inquiries, she learned the whole history of the case. On the following morning she had set out to New York with letter from Mrs Brown low to the mayor.
 The detectives were soon satisfied that this was indeed Mrs. Brownlow, and they set out on theIr return to New York with strange feelings of defeat and humiliation, not altogether unmingled with satisfaction that an innocent man was not to be made the victim of their mistakes The news was not taken directly to MT Brownlow He knew nothing of the discovery until his at torney, Mir. Parker, told him of the circum- stances. Then, for the first time, the iron nerved man yielded to the pressure of his emotions, and tears came freely to his eyes and his volce was too choked for utterance In q few days hls wife had recovered suffi- cieptly to be removed to the city, and when the officers of the law had actually seen her and heard from her own lips the story of her experience, there was no delay in bring ing the unfortunate affair to a speedy ter imitation.
 The district attorney himself moved in chambers for new trial. 1t was granted, and the following day set for it's occurrence. The prisoner was brought before the bar, and in speech in which he fully exoner- ated him from any evil intentions towards his wife and all suspicious of such, the dis trict attorney moved that the case be nolle pressed. This motion was granted by the judge, and the prisoner was dismissed.
 The meeting between him and his wife was most affecting, and they resumed their domestic relations with every augury for happy relations in the future. Both seemed to take to heart the severe lesson taught by the result of one short moment of anger
 THE END.