Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1895-10-23

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name, by the way?"
She looked at him mutely, and he un-
derstood that he would get no answer to
chat question.
"What is your own name? Can you
tell me that?'' he asked, with more
roughness Of manner than he quite
meant to show.
"SIy name is Dora Simmonds," she
answered, and he could see that she was
trembling
"The wife of the man I am looking
for, I suppose?"
"No," she answered, while the red
blood surged to her brow and made her
for the moment a living image of shame,
'his daughter"
Vanbrugh's face seemed to have
caught a 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. "I-I did
not understand. I will go.
He had scarcely reached the door be-
fore she stopped him. If you will tell
me, T" she said, Hwhat my father took
Hom yeu. I'll pay it back-indeed I
will. Il I work my fingers TO the bone.
TIL pay it back-and then you will
perhaps-netwishs so much-to-puniah
him. :.
81 don'twish anything. 1t was only
q triAe-a mere nothing. Don't think Of
it again.
'But must think of it,, she cried,
c1asping her hands together. IT must
think Of it. cannot bear my life unless
I try to undo the harm that he has
DONE"
Vanbrugh'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 door suddenly in his
face.
II wonder-have I been taken in
again?' said the journalist as he de-
scended the rotten stairs.
A few days afterward he found in his
letter box little packet inscribed with
his name. 1t proved to contain 10 shil'
lings, and q businesslike Endorsement:
"First installment. Dora Simmonds.
A week later a similar packet was left
in the box, and then Vanbrugh 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.
He sought cut the street in which he
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 his rooms. It was twi-
light, 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 pallid face-more
pallid, more worn by suffering, than
when he had seen her last.
eff I did," she answered, sit was
the right thing to do
''Did your father tell you?"
"Yes.
"But he-did he''-
81 earned the money" said the girl,
with q resentful flash of her eyes
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 I am sure he
will not do anything like it-again. -
Vanbrugh thought of Motley's 95 and
felt doubtful. "How did he come by
that letter?' he asked "Is his name
Ci,,,,,,o,,Iz or
"Charles Simmonds was my uncle.
The letter was written about him, and
my father-he has made use of it
twice, I believe" she answered, her
voice sinking into low accents of grief
and shame st was all for my sake
he could not bear to see me working
hard-and now he is overwhelmed by
grief and contrition''- =
Vanbrugh reflected that so good an
actor as her father could no doubt make
her believe what he chose. There was
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 vehemently.
"But will bring you the letter. BE
would starve rather than use it 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 a word from Dora or her
father. Yet Vanbrugh managed to in
tercept her when she brought the last
installment of the money, though how
he managed to do it no one ever knew.
He began abruptly: II 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"
SIT is impossible. You don t know
anything about me. p"
81 know that you are the noblest girl
in the world. But do not love you for
that. I love you because can't help it.
I have loved you I believe ever since I
saw you first. Can't you care for me,
too-a little?'
He tried to take her hand, but Dora
drew herself away. 81 shall never
marry" she said. "My father He
was not like it once," she broke off to
say tremblingly, but he gambles-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 the
hoofs of the omnibus horses one slippery
winters day, and was carried to hos
pital only to linger few hours. Van-
brugh joined Dora at his side, and hand
in hand they watched and waited dur
ing the last moments of the gamblers
wasted life.
In spite of Dora's representations, it
must be confessed that Vanbrugh had
always looked on her account of her
fathers penitence as pious daughterly
fiction. And SO he might always have
thought had not the dying man opened
his eyes at the last moment, looked him
full in the face. and raised himself up
by one supreme last effort to say word
in Vanbrugh's ear.
l,o eo;l o,,J oo,,lr 1o,o1r ~,