The Sunday morning news. [volume] (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1886-1891, 1890-09-21

preston OF your face, Was assured at
the time that it waa q trick you were
playing a Jest only
Ernest Wibbcrley tried to frame the
words "And nows-tried to force q
smile, but he could not The perspira-
ton sprang ont in great beads on his
face. He shock all over. He felt him
self and this time it was no fancy
/ growing livid.
ITO the best Of my belief, added the
civilian quietly, the bracelet is on your
left arm now
Wibberley tried to master, but could
not, the impulse--the traitor impulse
which urged him to glance down at bis
wrist. The idea that the bracelet might
be visible--that the da1nning evidence
might be plain to every eye-overcame
him. He looked down. OF course there
was nothing to be seen; he might have
known it, for he felt the hot clasp Of the
horrible thing burning his arm inches
! higher. But when he looked up again
heeting as had been his glance, he found
that something dreadful had happened
to him. He faltered, and the chair drop
| ped from his hands. He had never met
! looks like these before He read In ev-
cry face save one suspicion and condem-
nation. Thief and liar! He read the
words in their eyes, the eyes Of his quon-
dam friends. Yet he would, he must,
brazen it out; and though he could not
utter a word he looked from them to-
Joanna.
The girls face was pale and scared;
but her eyes-they answered his right
eagerly ablaze with indignation.
They held no doubt, no suspicion. The
moment bis look fell On her she spoke.
ssShow them your arml'' she cried, i'm
pulsively; ''show them you have not got
it, Enesti" with such scorn, such gener-
GUS passion, in her voice that it did not
need the telltale name which fell too
glibly from her lips to betray her secret,
at least to every woman in the room.
.Show them your armi' All, but that
was just what he could not do! And as he
comprehended this ne gnashed his teeth.
He saw himself netted and entrapped,
and his rage and misery were so written
in his face that the best and most merci-
full of those about him turned from him
in shame and pity. Even the girl who
loved him sllrank back, clutching the
mantelpiece in the first spasm of doubt
and fear and anguish. Her words, her
suggestion, had taken from him his last
chance. He saw it was so. He felt the
Nemesis the more bitterly on that ac-
count, and with some wild gesture and
some wilder word he turned abruptly
Il 1,,4,.,.f.a5 e,.<<,,, II, q ,.,, l1., t5
his hat and went down to the street.
His feelings when he found himself
outside were such as It is impossible to
describe in smooth, passionless sentences.
He had wrecked his honor and happiness
in an hour. He had lost his place among
men through a chance word We talk
and read of thunderbolt from the blue,
but still the thing is to us unnatural.
Some law abiding citizen whom mo-
ment's passion has made murderer,
some strong man whom stunning blow
has left crushed and writing on the
ground, twisted cripple-only these
could fifty describe his misery and de-
spair as he traversed the streets. It was
misery he had brought on himself, and
yet how far the punishment exceeded
the offensel How immensely the shame
and exposure exceeded the guilt He had
lied, and the lie had made him thief
He went up to his rooms like ono in
dream, and, scarcely knowing what he
did, tore the bauble from his arm and
flung it ON the mantel shelf. By his last
act of bringing it away he had made his
position hundred times more serious,
but he did not at once remember this
After he had sat while, however, with
his head between his hands, wondering
If this really were himself this really
had happened to himself, this dreadful
this The began to see things more clear
ly. Still, he could not at once make up
his mind what to do. Beyond some
hazy idea of returning the bracelet by
the first post and going on the continent
of course he must resign his employ
ment-he had settled nothing, when
step outside made him start to his feet.
Some one knocked at the door of his
chambers. He stood pallid and listen
ing, struck by sudden fear.
1.-The polcel" he said to himself.
But moments thought satisfied him
that it was improbable, If not impossi-
BILE. that this summons should be theirs,
and he went to the door hstleslessly and
threw it open. On the mat stood Burton
Smith in soft slouched hat, his hands
thrust into the pockets of his overcoat.
Wibberley just glanced at him and SOW
that he was alone, and then, leaving him
to shut the door, returned to his chair
and sat down in his old attitude, with
his head between his hands. He looked
already broken man.
Burton Smith followed him in and
stood moment looking down at him
uncomfortable enough It is bad to
have had such a scene as has been des-
c1ibed at your house, but it is worse, il
man be man, to face fellow crea-
ture in his time Of shame At any rate
Burton Smith felt it so. "Look here,
Wibberley,D he said at length, as much
embarrassed as if he had been the thief;
''look here; it will be better to hush this
up. Give me this COMPOUNDED bracelet
to hand back to Lady Linacre and the
thing shall go no further"
His tone was curiously suggestive both
of old friendship and present contempt
and pity. But when he had to repeat
- H. Il n