The Banner-Democrat. [volume] (Lake Providence, East Carroll Parish, La.) 1892-current, 1892-08-13

- = rios, and officers
In uniform were busy pressing the peo-
pie back from the open door.
A great robbery had been perpetrated,
and Mr.. Sangers, the brilliant young
partner in the firm of Sangers, Wether-
by & Co., had been found that morn
ing, lying dead amid the ruins OF the
money vault, with his hands bound
behind his back and his face disfigured
beyond recognition. The murderers,
however, had escaped, taking with
them an enormous booty, but leaving
behind not vestige by which to trace
their whereabouts.
Mr.. Wetherby was in Europe at the
time, but was hastily summoned home
by cable, and he came to find that the
robbery had ruined him with many 9TH
ers. He turned his property over to an
assignee for distribution among the cred
itors and, with mere pittance left,
went to live an obscure life in one OF
his humblest tenements.
People remarked that Mrs. Sangers,
the mother of the murdered man, bore
the loss of her only son, Charles, with
sstoic bravery for, year later, her
parties were. as brilliant and she as
fascinating a member of the social fra
ternity as she had ever been.
Our narrative necessitates = change
of scene, and to expedite matters we
must imagine ourselves ensconced in
the city of Melbourne, Australia.
George Steinway and Clara Winters
had known each other from early
childhood. They were children of
New England parents who had come
TO this far-away country to seek their
fortune, and, finding it, became so en-
deared to- the land of their adoption
that they resolved to remain citizens of
the occident
George, however, felt that he ought
to have been an American and that the
refusal of his parents to go back to
their native land was a sort of scheme
TO cheat him out of his birthright So,
one bright morning, he bade Clara
good-by, with the tacit understanding
that he would some Gay send for her,
although there had never been an ex-
press engagement, and turned his face
towards the land of his forefathers.
Clara felt very miserable for weeks
afterwards. Sometimes she thought to
herself: Perhaps George doesn't love
me, after all, or he would have told me
SO before he left; and yet, hadn't it
been understood all along?"
This tacit sort of love had an uncer-
tainty about it that was very unsatis-
factory, and she often wished that
George had asked her plump out to be
his wife"
They had grownup SO together that
{ 1t had been taken for granted, and they,
sensible, unromantic personages that
they were, never indulged in idle
dreams, but enjoyed each others So
ciety IN straightforward. everyday
manner.
At last the long-looked-for letter
came, the only one she had ever re-
ceived from George. With nervous
hands she opened it to see--but stopped
in disappointment, for il began: Miss
Clara, Dear Friend, and closed: 'Sin-
cerely yours, George"
II was a very sensible. well composed
letter, but Clara detestcd 1t, for some.
how it failed to strike the right chord,
and made her miserable. George
would meet some one in the great city Of
Philadelphia that would suit him much
better than She
AS time passed she became convinced
that George regarded their relationshiT
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