The Providence news. (Providence [R.I.]) 1891-1906, 1893-11-06
s.rhsrs IVES no friend ysu cared to ssi,s's

csnce Of my voice. but the belief that ]
wished to remain unrecognixed was suiii-
Client to withhold him from discovering his
knowledge.
"you are yoing TO stay with us, Nine
Leroyf" be asked.
mo; think of leaving this afternoon"
stsmmorcd. t
He made no reply, but a look Of pain came
ir to his face, and was silent. too. not hav.
ing the coureget to tell him why had come.
But he must have concluded that was in
troable and In need Of help, for presently,
drawing some unopened letters from the
inter pocket OF his coat, he said:
"Th6se letters came last night. Will you
open thsm and tell me who they are froms"
They were from sgnpethizirg friends in
London. Tread the names and addresses
TO him.
'IIave you opened them allf" hs asked.
eyes"
dear friend Of bygone days-from whom
have been hoping and expecting to hear by
every post. Do you mind looking through
them againf"
understood his motive in giving me
the letters now, and seizing the opportu.
nifty asked him il it was from q poor
woman In distress that he expected to hear
"a nameless creature who dared not show
her face.
1T cannot be my little friend, (" he said
sadly. "She would not fear me. We were
comrades she and I, and should be still
companions In adversely. To think that
could judge her harshly is to judge me yet
more harshiy."
''She does not fear you, but she breads
those who have less charity"
''She is in trouble, you tell me. Can !
help herr"
s'She hopes you will Her happiness
more than she can tell you-depends on
that"
''Tell me what she wants."
''She is In need of money"
"Does her happiness depend on thata"
Eyes"
"You are sure she asks for nothing more
than money!"
Nothing"
He bowed his head as IL TO conceal the
pain that came into his face Then, quickly
recovering himself, he said gently:
"Poor soul, IL money can make her happy,
she shall have it,"
He rose, felt his way TO a writing table
and seated himself before IL. From
drawer he took out checkbook, opened IL,
and passing his long, nervous fingers over
the paper he slowly wrote his name in the
right hand corner. Then he tore out the
check, and returning 70 his former seat
gave it to me.
II have left it open," he said. "Ask her
to write in--my unhappy little friend-the
amount she needs, and tell her, in case she
doubts it still, that her secret Is safe in my
keeping and that she has made me happy
by remembering me in her distksss."
took the check, faltering some incoher.
ent words Of gratitude.
"You will stay with US day or twoi" he
asked.
"No; must go away today"
"Have you far to go homer"
"I am going to London" he replied eva,
sively.
"You are staying with friends there9"
''No; have no friend to 60 to-"
"Are you quite alonei"
Quite"
He was silent for moment, seeming
greatly shocked by his discovery. Then he
said:
'Eut you have friends"
None but Mere Lucas aEd"-
He held out his hand quickly, and as II
closed on mine smile broke over his face.
"And me-" he said. "Oh, II my ear and
reason deceived me the sense of touch
would tell me whose hand this is hold.
Let us give up this game of crooked ques-
tions and cross answers and be ourselves.
Have faith in me, little friend"
For some minutes we sat thus, with our
hands locked, and neither spoke. Some
such feeling of mingled JOY and sympa-
thetic sorrow as choked my utterance may
have silenced him. Perhaps he was wait
ing for me to confide my sorrows to him
to pour out the history Of past troubles
that he might give me comfort. But
dared not answer that silent appeal, and
the tear that 81 oped from my cheek and
fell upon his hand as bent over it was all
the confession could make
"Is there nothing can do to help you"
Ae asked in tone of deep agitation.
"Nothing-noth;ng more than you have
done. No one can help me. need no help
now. The worst is past Better days must
come. Then may tell you more"
II want to know no more than that" he
answered irnpressively. IF the worst is
past, we will cease to think of it. Let US
go in the garden" he added In q brighter
tone as he rose to his feet. "Thc sun ought
to be shining today"
He took my trembling arm.
"You know the wayi" he asked.
"Yes; l walked across the lawn yester-
day."
"I knew it." he murmured. "Something
touched my arm, and felt that you were
near. have been expecting you to come"
lie said this, I thought, to encourage me,
but the radiant happiness in his face sur
prised me, though / knew the vigor and
forttude of his character. One would not
have imagined but for those poor closed
eyes that he had lost the most precious
gift OF nature. He pressed my arm to his
side and spoke some wise words Of assur.
ance, adding:
1--WE have both met with misfortune,
little friend"
II think too much OF my own"
mime" he said to turn my thoughts, "is
not so great "a you would think. At first
it was hard to bear--the world seemed so
empty. But am learning to see now with
out my eyes, and I find a multitude OF
beautiful things that had before escaped
my notice / never weary Of sitting here