The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1895-11-21
.'The wife of the man that am look

ing for, suppose"
NO" she answered, while the red
blood surged to her brow ana made her
for moment living image of shame,
''his daughter"
Vanbrugh's face seemed to have
caught tinge of color from hers. He
| felt the shame of her heart as if it had
been his own. Forgive me-" he said,
at last, in his impulsive way. IL did
not understand. l will GO"
He had scarcely reached the door be-
fore she stopped him. "If you will tell
me-" she said, what my father took
from you, I'll pay it bacl<-indeed will.
If | work my fingers to the bone I'll pay
it back-and then you will perhaps
not wish so much-to-punish-him-"
81 don't wish anything. 1t was only
trife-a mere nothing. Don't think
of it again.
But l must think of it, she cried,
clasping her hands together. Il must
think of it, cannot bear my life unless
1 try to undo the harm that he has
done"
Nanbrugh's heart swelled with pity.
But even as he tried to think of words
with which to console her, she covered
her eyes with one hand to conceal her
tears, and shut the dor suddenly in his
face.
Il wonder-have l been taken in
egainY said the journalist, as he de-
! seconded the rotten stairs.
A few days afterward he found in his
letter box little packet inscribed with
his name. 1t proved to contain ten shil-
lings, and business-like Endorsement:
First installment. Dora Simmonds."
A week later similar packet was left
in his box, and then Nanbrugh vowed
within himself that he would find out
more about that girl, whose wan yet
lovely face had begun to haunt him in
his dreams, or die in the attempt
lie sought out the street in which she
had been living, but she and her father
were gone. He made inquiries in vain.
At last, by pure accident, he came
upon her as she was descending the
stairs that led to her rooms. 1t was
twilight, and he caught her by the arm.
81 have found you!" he said. you
have been putting that money into my
box again"
He spoke almost angrily, and the
color came into her paIlid face-more
pallid, more worn by suffering than
when he had seen her last.
"If l did, she answered, at was the
right thing to do"
Did your father-tell you?"
"Yes."
But he--did he"
Il earned the money" said the girl,
with resentful flush of her ewes,
learned it honestly, by needlework, if
you wish to know. My father was glad
for me to pay it back. He-he had been
very much tempted-and l am sure
he will not do anything like it again"
Nanbrugh thought of Motley's five
pounds and felt doubtful. "How did
he come by that letter." he asked. "Is
his name Charles Simmonds or not?"
Charles Simmonds was my uncle. The
letter was written about him, and my
father-he has made use of it-twice,
| believe" she answered, her voice sink
ing into low accents of grief and shame.
1T was all for my salle-he could not
bear to see me working hard-and now
he is overwhelmed by grief and con-
triton"
Nanbrugh reflected that so good an
actor as her father could no doubt
make her believe what he chose. There
was a colder tone in his voice as he said:
Bring that letter to me so that he
cannot be tempted again, and take back
your money, Miss Simmonds."
you do not believe me! You do
not believe him!" she cried, vehement
ly. but | will bring you the letter.
He would starve rather than use il
again"
She flung away into the darkness. |
and Vanbrugh felt ashamed. BY one of
the next days posts the letter from
James Desmond was returned to him,
but without word from Dora or her
father. Yet Nanbrugh managed to in
tercept her when she brought the last
lnstallment of the money, though how
he managed to do it no one ever knew. |
He began abruptly: 81 feel degraded
by taking this money from you. ] |
would sooner-far sooner-that all |
had was yours. Miss Simmonds, will |
you marry me?"
do you mean to insult me, Mr.. Van
brugh?"
81 love you with all my heart, Dora"
at is impossible. You don't know !
anything about me-
81 know that you are the noblest girl
in the world. But L do not love YOU
for that; | love you because can't help
it. | have loved you, | believe, ever
since l saw you first. Can't you care
for me, too-a little?"
He tried to take her hand. Dora !
drew herself away. II shall never
marry" she said. MY father He
was not like it once" she broke off to
say tremblingly, but he gambes-and .
you know what that means"
Yes, he knew, but he knew also that !
Dora loved him, and he was content.
Nevertheless he might never have
called her his wife, had not her fathers
career been cut short. He fell under j
the hOOfS of the omnibus horses ona