Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1890-05-03

sores You have told me the story often
enough.
Louise had begun to pace the room in an
agitated manner as she talked. while Madame
Qmjada sank deeper into her luxurious arm
chair. and sat there looking up at her niece
with an awe-stricken countenance, as if she had
been Nemesis. Time was when she would have
put down all such speech as this with high
hand. but the growing habit of brandy and
choral had weakened her energies. She who
once held so firm mastery over daughter and
niece WAS now powerless to control either.
Il will talk of these things. You have kept
me long enough in miserable silence and sub
mission. have been your drudge not because
l. reared you or valued the home you have
given me, but because l care nothing for my
lie and would as soon be a servant as an EN-
press. But there are times when the memory
OF the past is too strong for me. want you to
know what suffered while was alone in that
garrett The room comes back to me in my
dreams sometimes with hrleous reality, and
fancy am sitting there in the hot summer aft
ernoon, stitching. stitching in hopeless monot-
ony. as if were a human machine. l must
talk Of that hideous past. 1t is in my mind al
ways; il is part of me-
She walked to and fro in silence for few
minutes and then went on recalling her misery
step by step.
The first newspaper that opened was full
OF the Denmark street murder-and the Den
mark street murder was the murder of Robert
hatrell. L could read English much better
than could speak it and there was not one
word OF the witnesses that escaped me. l saw
my own name and understood that it was the
name of his poor Antonette which had lured
him to the shambles in which he was to be
KILLED. And then l knew that the murderer
was my brother-my brother whose face | had
not seen since the first few weeks after we
came to London. l knew that the pretended
Matchmaker IN Denmark street was my brother
and that the woman who asked Robert Hatrell
to go to the deathbed Of a girl called Antoi-
nette must be you. and only Won. And knew
that because Robert Hatrell had once been kind
to me and loved me a little, perhaps, in
spite of the difference in our stations.
because of those few happy days of my
Sirlhood, he had been trapped and murdered.
1t was not till afterward that read about the
changing of the notes ON the Riviera; but when
did knew we'll enough that the gray-haired
trench woman was you. L knew your shifty
Tricks well enough III the past to know that you
would have no difficulty in Disgusting yourself
and aping the manners of woman OF quality
That was months afteward, when 1 was well
enough to leave the French hospital. where I
was carried raving mad with brain fever after
starving in my garnet for nearly a week. trying
to work from daybreak till dark. and spending
sleepless nights of agony. But for the refuge
that blessed institution afforded me / must
have died of hunger i'll my garnet. or been
turned out of doors to die in the street. My
landlord was cab driver. and he had the hu-
fever and dolirious as / was, and drive me to
the hospital. where he told them my story
Il sent you money rs soon as l settled at
Madrid, where went in the hope OF getting
help from an old friend"
Yes, your letter telling me to go to Madrid
and incloslng the money for the Journey ar
rived after l had gone to the hospital. The
letter was given me when 7 recovered nv
senses. and when was able to travel set out
for Spain. In Madrid found you established
i'll very different quarters to our garnet in the
Minories Your old friend had been very gen.
erOus to you. You who had been nearly starry
ing in London were able to make q very good
figure i'll Madrid, able to send your daughter
to convent school, you who were living on
bread and water before Robert Hatreli was
murdered. Do you suppose / ever doubted
where your money came from? l knew from
the beginning that It was the price of blood.
You called me mad when refused to eat or drink
with you while your prosperity lasted You
laughed at me when | preferred a crust of
bread In my garnet to your dainty fare. When
your money was gone and you we're again re-
duced to poverty my mind was easier, could
better bear to live with you. and then grew
fond OF Dolores--she at least was innocent of
all evll-and SO / Learned to bear the life
You are fool" muttered Madame Ouiiada.
hastily. Il have heard all this rodomontade
OF yours SO often that / never think il worth
my while to argue with you. Just give me
your arm to help me to my room before Do
iores and her husband come home from the
theater. These rheumatic knees of mine will
hardly carry me upstairs without assistance
You are a fool, Louise. You might be "A mil
liners drudge, toiling among a lot of other
drudges at this day, if it were not for your
cousin Dolores and me-"