The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1898-10-16

from the cathedral
rs Mrs. Dallas il?'' asked the second
witch-I mean lady-looking hard at me-
''Not the least"
81 thought not. / met her running along
the High street just now. and she seemed
in radiant health
AS she is thank Godr' put in, quietly
WAS she alone or with anyone?'
Miss Strong shot an eagle glance at me,
and turned up her mouth as il wild horses
should not drag the smallest scrap of in
formation out of her. To me, to whom
Rosey's life and thoughts were as an open
book, this attitude was intensely amusing
Mrs. Dallas was running along in great
hurry she replied, ostentatiously avoiding
replying to my question.
"Oh, 1 see! Either by herself or with
someone else" / said, laughing outright
"Ah! here is my wife,
Rosey came up to US, and having spoken
to the two ladies, tucked her hand under my
arm with a wordless greeting which was
evidently extremely disconcerting to the es-
Unable spinsters who had been so keen to
notice her absence from the cathedral serv-
ices.
Il saw you in the High street just now
said Rosey to Miss Strong
"Ye-es,'' she admitted.
Il could not help laughing" my wife con-
tinued. Il must have looked funny run
ming along trying to keep up with the arch
deacon, he so tall and / such a dot
Il wonder he did not accommodate his
pace TO yours" said Miss Strong, with a
pointed emphasis which showed me all too
plainly that she thought Rosey had no
business to be going anywhere with the
archdeacon.
All, but he had train to catch. and as
he had something most important to tell
me, had to put my pride in my pocket
and run along with him." returned Rosey,
laughing again. "Well, goodbye! Nice day,
isn't it?'
We parted then, and as Rosey and 1
walked home across the Chantry Garden.
she said, with wise air:
There's not much love lost between those
two old cats and me. Joe. / believe they
thought was going to elope with the arch
deacon"
Something of the kind, doubtless"
SO likely!' she remarked, in her driest
tones. LAS if he would look at me- with
his head and heart and soul filled with an
other woman"
Still calculated.
Joe" she said. as we reached the door
of my study, which opened straight off the
Chantry Garden. Joe, give me a cup of tea,
for l am athirst and furnishing; and then
I will tell you a story-a long story-a sad
story-a lone story that has seemed to have
had two endings."
1 opened the door with my latch-key, and
let her pass in. The fire in the huge old
fashioned crate was burning brightly, our
own easy chairs were drawn invitingly near
10 the bearskin rug, the tea was set ready
upon the little table near Roseys chair and
the kettle was kissing on the hob. Vincent
came in as We did, carrying teapot and a
covered plate
rs the tea drawn. vincent?" Rosey asked.
Yes, am made it five minutes ago.
Vincent replied.
Rosey heaved sigh of relief as Vincent
closed the door behind her.
Il am SO hungry" she exclaimed. "Ah,
thank you, dear old boy she added as 1
began to pour out the tea. II declare my
hands are frozen. Joe, I've promised and
vowed good many things in your name
this afternoon. hope you won't be furious
with me-
Have your tea before you disclose the
horrible facts suggested.
Good advce-I will.
But she could not keep off the subject then
uppermost in her mind.
joe" she said. after a minute or two,
and looking at me doubtfully, 1--WE been
keeping secret from you all these days."
II know, little woman. 1 didn't mind.
You had reason for it I'm sure
'Oh, it wasn't a you and a me secret"
she retorted quickly, holding out her hand
that l might take it. "Joe. you remember
the Rollestons? He is dead
George RolleSton-at least John Bron-
son? or was Dick Bronson?"
Richard Harvey was his own name,"
she replied Yes. he is dead
Did he die in his bed?' / asked bluYtly.
for Richard Harvey, alias John Bronson,
alias the Rev. George Roleston, had left
Northtowers about three years before under
very decided cloud. having taken the
Tower House, just across the Close in the
character of clergyman of large means
and without cure; after which he left
Northtowers in the character of John Bron-
son, noted forger and in charge of the
police. Millicent Rolleston. his wife, had
passed as his daughter under compulsion.
as we knew afterwards, and had drifted
away out Of our sight. a broken-hearted
woman, though little more than a girl in
years.
HE died in prison." said my wife gravely.
years, which means eight at the very best"
But. he might have been killed in trying
to escape l explained.
He was not On the contrary he was
an exemplary prisoner quiet respectful
regular, patient, and most attentive to the
ministrations of the chaplain. He died of
gastric fever six months ago."
''Well?" ! asked, for knew the story was
yet to come.
''You remember the other day when /
came in here crying?"
''Of course"
II had just seen her.
"Millicent RollestonY
'.Millicent Harvey. That afternoon, Joe.
was starting to go 10 Evensong when /
received note written in pencil saying,
DO you remember Millicent? / am here
alone and in great trouble; will you of
your charity come to me?' OF course I
did so. 1 found her in "A mean little lodging
in Queen Elizabeth street. i'll, worn to a
shadow and covered with bruises from head
to foot
What"
"Yes-her poor face all down by the jaw
was green and blue; her arms-you never
saw such fright, joel couldn't help cry
ing over her, even when | got back here