The Portland daily press., 1895-10-21

ASeshAAieS Ou luS uitAuCipioCO HSSNo
the fire until the butler had come and
gons. He then strobe to the table, poured
out and swallowed a stiff glass OF spirits
and faced his uncle with resolve at his
mouth.
1.-THE fact is uncle" he said, standing
with his back to the fire and speaking
calmly and deliberately; "the fact is,
uncle, that Julie Panton never knew
Charlie at all. She mistook him for me.
You know that no stranger could tell US
apart l was meant to be her victim.
That is all and that is what will have to
be told at the trial. It's even worse than
you bad expected, I'm afraid" And when
the one man stopped speaking, the other,
too, kept silent Indeed not another word
was said by either.
How long he stood there waiting Edward
did not know. Finally, he took his hat
and left the old man looking straight into
vacancy,
Such was the story, as near as could
gather it from Lord Stonehouse and from
my friend Edward Summers himself Lord
Charles had never been intimate with,
but l am sure that no one could have been
more astonished at his falling a victim to
the jealousy Of a dissolute woman than 1
was to learn that Edward had got entan-
gled In the foul meshes of such one as
Julie Panton. It was only the old story
Let us be open as the day,
Each one doth to the other say
When he would better hide himself.
Iwould have gone bail for Edward 8
pureness of living to any amount, and
here he was, another Ulysses, who had
proclaimed to me d hundred times the
praoticability of virtue, forgetting his
glory in the foul pleasures of Eoea. With
the horrible trial that followed and the de-
tails of the vulgar intrigue my faith In
goodness took wings, and with Edward S
disgrace and sudden and complete disap-
pearance thereafter began my own loss OK
self respect, my own rapid Generalization
Not that appear very different probably
to the world than I did, for have learned
to patch up the gaps in my modesty with
hypocrisy, which matches it well. In
speaking of which am reminded that the
last of poor Edwards canting lectures was
called forth by my remarking that hypoc-
risy is one of the healthiest signs In a
community, for it shows that virtue is the
fashionable rule, otherwise there would be
no object in apins it.
Ten years have gone. Lord Stonehouse
died soon after the trial. and all his for
tune passed to Lady Charles Summers and
her child fer. Not word was said in the
will of Edward, and I know that he had
practically nothing to live on. Attempts
from time to time to trace him have been
made, but to no purpose. Wherever he
went he evidently assumed successfully
some evasive name. After all, he was
rather fool to give himself away. I'm
inclined to think should find him trife
too virtuous for ME and something of a
bore If he turned up now SO perhar: it's
better as it is.
"Oh, it's you, Brown, is it? Why, de-
clare you quite startled me. was SO en-
crossed in writing that didn't hear thu
door open. A letter. is i'll Thanks.
An envelope with South African post
mark addressed in a strange hand. Inside
a letter-bs all that's extraordinary Ia
letter in Edward Summers handwriting.
But what's thisa Dated two years ago
MY DEAR GILBERT-Death, as I remember
you once saying in the dear, good old dag 8
that are passed, death, the great arithmetlclan,
will one day reduce US all to common de-
nOm1naGor. IhlS WrlC6 WIN y reQuesb az
tached-that when I have gone ad majores 1t
shall be forwarded to you. Since last saw
you have suffered-something- I have,
too, known something more than happiness.
Poor devil! He doesn't seem to have
got over his hypocritical phraseology.
And in this letter propose to myself the
luxury of being little ungenerous. Yes. SO
far ungenerous as to let just one person know
that Charles was guilty, and that I was not
the hypocrite you imagine. Far, far my great
est trial has been the knowledge that l had
lost your love and respect and the love and re-
spect of Flora Carew, whom I almost loved
better than my own soul. And here solemn
ly charge you by our friendship. to keep the
contents of this letter to yourself, but feel
cannot die without leaving one heart loving
and one friend believing in me.
Gilbert by the God in heaven above us,
swear to you Julie Panton was unknown to
me, even by name, when she killed my brother.
EDWARD SUMMERS.
PhewE He expects me to believe that,
does he? No, my dear Edward, I really
can't.-Sketch.