Waterbury evening Democrat., 1890-07-18
swer. wish he had written to me. fl even to tell me he would not see me.


 even to tell me he would not see me.
 don't know what put it into my head this evening to show Rachel the little note Gerard threw into my hands on the night he went away. I think I must have taken it to her just because was so tired of talking of that other letter which we are expecting; or perhaps only because my thoughts were so full of Gerard. Now am very, very glad I took it; for between us we have man. aged to read most of the plotted words. It took hours to do it; but I think we have read them rightly now. This is what we make them out to be:
 {" A month ago he told me spacious lie. He told me that MT. Esdaile"was lending him Q sum of money just for few weeks, in which time he should in- herit sum of E5, 1000. But he said he was 70 afraid of the fact of his having borrowed money reaching the ears of the dying old woman who had made will in his favor, that MT. Esdaile had him. self proposed drawing the check for Jeffrey in the name of a friend.
 II believed this lie, just as he said it, I know now that I was mad and blind 1; but he had 6 wonderful influence over me, and I never suspected. l offered the check he gave me, firmly believing it to be Mir. Esdaile's own. From the time the knowledge dawned upon me I was miserable, only praying him to re- store the money, or to free me from my oath of silence. He could do neither yet, hs told me, entreating my forbear- ance for just little longer. But have no written proof of this, and what is my word worth against the factsq Nothing will save me, but, before God, I am in- nocent"
 "Oh, Rachel, /" cried, when it seemed plain to us, "why did he blot it! I could have told this at the trial I could have told the Judge the truth"
 Perhaps his own impulse was the wisest, my dear"
 "But why2" I cried. "he would not have written it, if it had not been true."
 "He crossed the words out for some reason" Rachel said, very pityingly; cit must have been to prevent your hay ing any knowledge of the transaction. and so guard against your testimony be- ing necessary"
 Then, why did he write them at all?"
 "He wrote them instinctively, dear, no doubt," she said, Gin his desire for you to know the truth"
 "T]2en why did he not tear them off ?" I moAusd, holding the letter tight in my claspe( hands.
 "Dont you see that on the opposite side of the sheet is written what he does really want you to read2 Perhaps he had no m.'re paper"
 And Lbcn-just hearing those few com .ls. .s.l.1 Il |. | lessnes4--the tears, that are so seldom Id my eyes now, rushed to them, and sobbed in Rachel's arms until had not strength left me to go back so she put lne to sleeep in her own bed, just as she might have put little child.
 Tomorrow I leave here. Once more am starting on a new path. Is it wrong and untrustful to wonder where it will lead2 Oh will try so hard to do my duty; and perhaps, as God is always pit iful, this home will not be closed against me as others have been. Yet the old haunting presentment is still with me. and cannot feel that the sorrow of my life and Gerard's can be taken away for long years to come, even if ever.
 Ohl hope it is right (at least. not wrong) for me to be going to High Athelston, tempted only by that offer of one hundred pounds salary. So much of that shall be able to save for Ge- rard
 Is all love of money real avarice2 If so, what an almost universal sin it must be was thinking tonight, as I came home with Rachel, of that last evening at home when Gerard told Aunt Jessie he would redeem his name. Poor Gerard poor Gerard If could only know what he does in that hard life of his-so far away from me-that I might follow him all the more closely, day by day, in my thoughts l Four years more, and he willsbe free; and through that time shall be helping him. There, that shall be my last thought tonight almost glad one.