Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1895-11-02

leaning on the mantelpir ~ into
the fire until the butler h, come and
gone. He then strobe to the liable poured
out and swallowed stiff glass of spirits
and faced his uncle with resolve at his
mouth.
"rhe 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 had 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 1t from Lord Stonehouse and from
my friend Edward Summers himself Lord
Charles I had mover been intimate with,
but am sure that no one could have been
more astonished at his falling victim to
the jealousy Of absolute woman than I
was to learn that Edward had got entan-
gled in tho foul meshes Of such one az
Julie Panton. 1t was only the old story
Let US be open a. the day,
Each one doth to the other say
When he would better hide himself
would have gone bail for Edwards
pureness of living to any amount, and
here he was, another Ulysses, who had
proclaimed to me hundred times the
practicability Of virtue, forgetting his
glory in the foul pleasures of E9a. With
the horrible trial that followed and the de-
tails Of the vulgar intrigue my faith in
goodness took wings, and with Edwards
disgrace and sudden and complete disap-
pearance thereafter began my own loss Of
self respect, my own rapid decentralization.
Not that appear very different probably
to the world than did, for have learned
to patch up the gaps in my modesty with
hypocrisy, which matches 1t we'll. 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 q
fashionable rule, otherwise there would be
no object in aping it.
Ten years have gone. Lord Stonehouse
died soon after the trial, and all his for
tune passed to Lady Charles Summers and
her children. Not word was said in the
will Of Edward, and 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 q
bore if he turned up now, so perhaps it's
better as 1T is.
"Oh, it's you, Brown, is its Why, de-
clare you quite startled me. was so en-
crossed in writing that didn't hear the
door open. A letter, Is itP Thanks"
An envelope with a South African post
mark addressed in strange hand. Inside
letter-by all that's extraordinary Ia
letter in Edward Summers handwriting.
But what's thisp Dated two years ago
MY DEAR GILBNRT-Death, as remember
that are passed, death, the great arithmetician,
will one day reduce US all to a common de-
nominator. This write with request at.
tached-that when have gone ad majores 1t
shall be forwarded to you. Since last saw
you have suffered 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. 60
far ungenerous as to let just one person know
that Charles was guilty, and that was not
the hypocrite you imagine. Far, far my great
est trial has been the knowledge that had
lost your love and respect and the love and re-
spect of Flora Carew, whom 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.
Phew! He expects me to believe that,
does her No, my dear Edward, I really
can't .-Sketch.