The Monitor. [volume] (Woodstown, N.J.) 1884-1892, 1890-12-12

sensitiyeness to my good opinion, ana
pressed his fingers as l rejoined warmly,
81 never heard any one speak otherwise
than highly Of his conduct in the mat
ter"
He stopped and said shortly; Why,
who knows anything about it: |
thought you and | had it all to II
selves.
,.Yes, yes,"I faltered, and added, in
consequently, you know you have been
away for some time, old fellow"
1t did not seem to fit in very we'll; but
he accepted it as IN argument, and said:
sThere is something in that, but don't
let people talk about it. know he re-
lies upon you and me.
There was something SO touching in
the reliance of this unknown that a glow
of sympathetic affection warmed my
heart, and | resolved on the spot that
his confidence should not be misplaced.
Come what might, the secret of that old
mans life should never be betrayed by
me. Others might make it a subject of
club gossip or tea table title tattle, but
no word of mine should add one drop to
the cup of bitterness that had been
placed at his lips. There are passages in
the lives of all of us which we would
wish TO have buried in oblivion-the
thoughtless follies of youth, the I'M
worthy ambitions of manhood, and the
selfish ~jealousies of old age. Who is
there that can stand up and say there is
no episode in his life he would not have
expunged. forgotten or condoned?
We had turned into q restaurant for a
bit of dinner. and those thoughts passed
through my mind as we ate our fish. My
companion pondered sadly for few Sec
onds, and then, shaking himself together
as though to throw off an unpleasant
train of thought, said, more easily,
Now. tell me about yourself, your wife
and family"
Before | had time to reflect upon what
might be the result of my disclosure l
blurted out the simple truth. 81 have no
wife"
He looked intensely surprised as he
said: MY dear fellow l am very sorry.
I never heard
He paused inquiringly, and again !
blurted out. II never had one"
A look of extreme pain spread over his
face as he heard this. He leaned across
the table, and laying his hand on mine
said, with infinite sympathy: Il see it
all. | ought not to have asked you.
Forgive me, old fellow, and forget that
I have said those words"
gave him Il clammy hand and turned
away lest he should detect the conscious
outlines of my face. | had become
confirmed in Il suspicion that had been
gradually dawning upon my mind that
l had never set eyes upon my host be-
fore that day, and that l had been car
ried away by some ineXplicable chance
resemblance to some remote acquaint-
ance and by his own apparent cordial
recognition of myself. There were no
blinking the facts, however. Everybody
that he mentioned was u total stranger
to me, while every incident that l men
toned with q view to drawing him out
seemed to find his mind a blank.
My sole object now was to extricate
myself from my false position without
detection. | got absolutely and hope
lessly involved in fable and falsehood,
and after having thus lightly taken away
thegood nance of the suggestions mother
of my children a sort Of despair took pos
session of me, and a wild desire to avoid
exposure or explanation at any cost.
The dinner was good, the wine excel
lent, and my host geniality itself. We
sat late and drank freely, and over our
cups 1 blush to think of the people Imar-
ried, the old friends | buried, and the
characters | took away. But he would
have news, and what was l to do? Much
of my information seemed to afford him
matter for establishment, and often he
calculated, tsYou don't tell me SOL" as I
conveyed some specially startling piece
of news.
However, the time for departure came
at last, and my mind was torn with con-
ficting desires to escape detection and
to ascertain his identity.
you'll come and see us!' he said cor
daily, as we parted.
Eyes, certainly" 1 replied; but where
are you putting up now%
sob, the same old quarters" he re-
turned.
What is the best way to get there?' !
asked, as a last hope.
"You can't do better than take a cab"
he said, and we parted never to meet
again.-True Flag.