The Providence news. (Providence [R.I.]) 1891-1906, 1895-06-07
AlOOu i iilo Hoods Sarsaparilla. 2oc.

figures on the path below attract her at
tention. They are the young girl with
the invalid mother, and the tall, stall
wart, honest looking Englishman At a
point that commands view of the lovely
valleys spreading below, they come TO a
standstiii, and Mrs. Allingham, little
ascinated, fingers to watch them. Is
this going to be happy marriage? The
man looks very much in earnest, but the
girl.
At this moment the girl turns and looks
eagerly backward upon the path she has
Just travelled. All at once her face has
brig htened and just as suddenly the man
at her side seems to sink into insignif-
canoe. She has no longer a thought for
him. Glare, with q sense of pity for her
lover, knows at once that her eyes, her
thougts, all belong to the owner OF the
| footsteps that are now distinctly to be
heard coming MP the path behind them.
Impelled by q sort Of queer curiosity she
leans forward to see what the man Is like
| that this young creature can prefer to the
| handsome toy -her-sfde.- The bridge
| prevents her at first from seeing him, but
| now the footsteps are nesrer-they are
| evidently hurried-and now-i
| BY supreme effort she controls the
| wild cry thst rises to her lips. On, Godl
| not here-not now. oh, fool to have made
SO sure Falling on her knees she
crouched back against the railing behind
| her. In tnlS position sne ls eDtlTtly
| hidden from those on the path below.
| For a moment a sickening faintness al
| most overpowers her.
| Then she compels herself to listen. The
| voice-his voice-oh, the horror OF It'll
| comes up clear and strong.
$50 have found you again, you see. j
| told you should. You"-how bold, how
| certain the voice is-"bave not quite for
| gotten meY'
| "Oh, no, Mr.. Prendergast."
/ SO. He has changed his name "a little
notorious at presently lost it should frigh
| en- this pretty fly from his web. Mrs. AL
| lingham's lips, even in her deep sg gitation,
| curl involuntarily, Then all at once she
| remembers something. She shriuks as IL
from herself, and her face grows whittier.
| What about his and her name?
| AZ am bound to go on to DarmitZ this
evening to meet friend there, and to-
| morrow claims me, too, but after that--you
| will bo still here?"
| The woman above listening can imag-
inc the impassioned glance that accom-
panies this question. She has been
| through 1t.
"Yes-yss," says the girl, in her soft,
| low tone.
"Ahi In the mcan time"-
| "Good bye"
! "No, no. Au revoiri"
| Then the little play is over He has
| gone back to the carriage waiting for him
| on the lower road, from whence, no
doubt, he bad seen her, and the OF her two
nave turned the corner and gone on, in
! ominous silence. Glare gets slowly 10
her feet. The child and that man! What
a devil he is He has ev identity kept her
in ignorance of his marriage, and to let
her love him, not knowing.
Again she seems to remember, and stops
suddenly, as il stabbed to the heart. Oh,
| God What is she doing?
| Well, well, well We must all SOW, we
must all reap, and IL that girl chooses Ia
fling away her life, what is it to her
Something, however, it must be, be-
cause all the way back to the hetel, under
the scented leaves, and with the growing
night wind blowing upon her, the child
| pure, lovely face Is ever with her. SO
might ber own face once have looked
before they sold her 10 the hig hest bidder
Her heart softens. Yes; she will speak
to the girl tonight-will warn her. She