Democratic messenger. [volume] (Snow Hill, Md.) 1869-1973, 1899-05-27

was up. Then she remembered She gOt
mp and dressed herself and began con.
sidering what she should do. She had
been careful to leave her address. &c
that Everard might have no difficulty
in tracing her. and she had no doubt
that he would turn mp some time dur
ing the day to scold her-she determin.
ed that she would submit to the scold
ing without word-but. at any rate.
to take her home.
She did not go ont all that day lest
she should miss him. but he never came.
When night fell. she would have beer
glad to 90 back Of her own accord. bu,
her pride forbade her. and she remained
where she was. Surely, she Thought, ht
will come tomorrow But that day, too,
passed. and Dorothy began to realize
that her husband had taken her at her
word
As a matter of fact. on the morning
of the second day Everard had left word
where h. was to be- found at the house
agents office and inserted one or two
advertisements in the daily papers-he
could not afford maryland then he
told himself he could do no more. Doro-
thy was dead to him-lost in the great
whirlpool of London.
A year went by and Dorothy, pale
and thin and shabby. was slowly drag
ging her way through enc of the great
thoroughfareS Her heart was heavy.
for there was II cradle i'll the poor room
she had left and in the cradle baby
girl. What Dorothy Payn had gone
through during the last six months only
she and her God knew. st one time she
had all but starved. but one of that
much snecred at class district visitors
had found her out. given her sympa-
thy. money and fresh hope for the flu
ture. Since her recovery she had sup
ported herself chiefly by typewriting-
an art she had learned in the days of
her girlhood
A few days before Mrs Rainforth.
who had succored her. had written to
tell her of situation for which she
might apply Ii was the post of school
mistress in school in the north of Ire
land Mrs. Rainforth had told Dorothy s
sad story To the clergyman of the parish.
and he had promised that he would do
what he could TO get the post for her.
and She had good hopes that she would
obtain il. Ii was not the life she would
have preferred. but, in contrast with
the hardships of the last l2 months. il
looked like paradise. Dorothy was now
on her way 10 meet one of the school
managers who was examining candi-
dates for the place
On her way she passed a church She
slipped in and sat down. Thoughts Of
God came into the girls mind. She had
not said prayer for years. Was there
not something in the Bible about an
swering prayer-so promise that
whatovc~ we pray for would he granted !
Sne was sure of it. At once Dorothy re-
solved 10 put it to the test She would
pray for this post in Ireland. Sinking
on her knees. Dorothy poured out her
petitions To the Father of her spirit.
nor did she content herself with merely
stating her request. hut returned to il
again and again. beseeching the AL
mighty that this thing might he grant
ed to her. She saw the school manager,
and he professed to be well satisfied
with the proofs which she furnished OF
her fitness for the post.
Three weeks went slowly by. Dorothy
thought she had never known time to
pass 81 slowly. and then one morning a
large envelope was handed to her. II
bore the Ballyrowen postmark. and her
| fingers trcmhled 81 that she could scarce
" tear open the cover. There was moth
| ing but her few poor testimonials re-
turned To her. with n civil note saying
| that the managers regretted to he un'
able to avail themselves of her services.
That WAS all That was the victory of
| her prayer
Two months after her great disap.
pointmcnt Dorothy obtained large
manuscript which was to be typewrit-
ten as soon as possible. Hurrying home.
she threw off her hat and jacket. lit the
lamp and. taking peep at her sleep
ing baby. began her task. The little
| thing slumbered on She was so used tO
| the click Of the machine that il never
| disturbed her now.
The manuscript was story by Gid
con Armstrong, Il writer of whom she
had heard once or twice within the last
| few months She dashed at the written
pages and covered several sheets before
| il occurred To her that the handwriting
was familiar to her II could not be
surely il could not be Yes. il was her
| husband ;
So he was Gideon Armstrong; He
was known becoming popular, perhaps
rich at all events. well off and she. the
| poor, discarded wife. was starving in a
garret. glad to earn pittance by doing
| the work Of clerk in connection with
the manuscript which would fill his
pockets and make him more famous
than ever. Dorothy clasped her hands
before her on the table. rested her head
ON them and wept bitterly.
| At last she hent To her work and for
a time wrote steadily But suddenly she
| came To full stop.
1T was impossible for Dodie To say
mere
| Her own pet name. the name Everard
had given her when they We're lovers.
looked out nj her from the paper; put
| evidently by mistake for the name oi
the heroine She must have been in his
mind. she said to herself. or her name
| could not have found its way to the pa
| pr, She blushed and her eyes shone.
rr' what was she IL dor Was she tC
.ati her peace and let him gog If he
indeed remembered her
Then an idea struck her. Here and
there throughout the II anuscript she
| substituted ''Dodie' for the name Ever.
ard had given his heroine. She thought
se would be sure To notice this. to won
der why it had been done. TO make in
| uuiries If he did not choose to do so. il
he made no sign. she could go ON as she
was doing.
That night the manuscript was fin
ished Next day she took il back to the
| office and received the few shillings
that were due to her for her labor. Then
she went home and waited.
| For the next three days her heart
beat with sndden painfulness at every
ring that came IL the lodging house
door After that she began 10 fear as
well as hope. and when week after weeb
went hy and her husband made no sign
she knew tn" heart sickness Of hope de
ferred. and after that the torpor of de