The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1900-06-27
the least word that passed between


the least word that passed between
them:
"I have brought you tais letter.
senorita, because I knew you would
wish to have it Immediately"
Dolores turned insts ntly at the
sound Of his voice.
"Oh, thank you, Henri; thank you
so much!' she said, pressing her lips to
the dear, familiar handwriting whose
exercises in Spanish she had so often
corrected.
"Dear, darling Polly! But how in
the world has she found me out? It is
from Polly Hamilton, Harold" she
said, land oh"
She stopped suddenly, with dis
tressing feeling that, whether she
spoke or remained silent, she must be
guilty Of seeming treachery either to
the one man or the one woman in the
world whom she loved best; and then,
with deep sigh, she tore open the
letter. :,
cat least must read what she says,s
she thought, "and then"
She read hurriedly, wildly, de-.
lightedly, hardly daring to believe in
the good news; and again more calm
ly, but with thrilling sense OF free.
dom and joy. Then, with long.
drawn breath of relief from pent-up
suspense aud anxiety, she placed the
1attar -, bar 1over's hands .-
"Read, dear Harold" she said,
"and then will explain, and rid my
mind forever of a painful secret-the
only one that can ever come between
you and me" -.
Wondering very much, but with
perfect confidence that whatever Dol
ores bade him do must be the right
thing to be done, Lord Harold Moray
read Polly Hamilton's letter:
eat last, my darling Rita, hare I found
YOU? For weeks and months have
sought you-from New York to San Fran
cisco-all over California, as / thought;
then, on false clue. back again to New,
York, to find here that I ought TO have
stayed where l was-but no matterl For
here I find what, 1. em. quite,sure now,1s
the right clue. hear that MS. Ira Vers,
| OF Santiago Canyon, near SantaAna, mas
Spanish governess for her little girls; tnat
the goyerness comes from the East Call
| pearls OF price comes fromthe East, dear),
] that her name Is Dolores, and my heart
tells me she Is my own dear Rital Am
rieht-am l right? Oh, I can't bear any
more disappointments and nm coming TO
see for myself, so that you may expect me
almost rs soon as my Letter; for as soon!a
papa can settle his business affairs here,
we are returning to our own dear home
to stay there, and shall see you once
| again-you, dearer than all other girls IN
| the world! Write to me, dear, at the en-
closed address, San Francisco, for there ls
| now no further excuse for hiding yourself
| from me.
"Thut man, Rltal Oh, can I ever write
his name without trembling? But I shall
Il dol Believe me, dear, 1T Is only mem
ory, q memory OF what never existed, that
makes me tremble; for I tell you truly
| from my heart. Rita, that Clarence Stan
| ley is less than nothing 10 me noW-not
| even q memory, not even name! You
| dear grill It was not worth breaking my
heart and your own, too tor / know YOU
| have suffered equally in our separat1on),
| by running away from me, that he might
not see you no more. Rita, dearest, he
never returned, neither to protest, excuse,
| make love to me again or attempt to win
you from me! Gone at once he was, anu
| forever; and, though it nearly killed me at
the moment, I have since learned to kneei
in gratitude to Heaven for saving me from
such man. He has married Olive Gaye,
| aud together they must now be some
| where in England; though, strange to say,
I hear nothing from Lady Clarence Stan
ley; perhaps she is waiting to send me her
cards ms the Countess of Windermere. And
now, dearest, this will surely prove to you
how unnecessary Is further concealment
on your part. Let me hear from you at
| once. The loss Of you is an inslpportable
grief, Rita, for you are dearer than any
man can ever be to the longing, loving
heart of POI LY HAMILTON"
"And this man, then-this Clarence
Stanley?" asked Moray, in utter be-
wilderment. 'This is all SO unlike
our dear Clarence! Engaged to this
young lady, false to her, false to Con.
stance, and basely marrying third?
Oh, it cannot bel"
"Nor is it true, Harold" said
Dolores, sadly and gravely. "Your
sisters lover is dead; but she is more
fortunate than my dear Polly, for she
can mourn q true and honest lover
and cherish his memory"
dead! Clarence Stanley dead"
said Lord Harold. ooh, poor Con-
stance It is cold comfort I must
bring back to you, my sister! But
who then is this man who has been
masquerading as Clarence Stanley?"
Dolores turned an appealing look
toward Van Tassel, and it was he who
answered:
"His name is Carlos Mendoza, Lord
Harold, and be is the man who killed
your kinsman, Clarence Stanley"
"His murderer? Stanley mur.
dered!" cried Moray, recoillng IN
horror.
'It was fair fght-fair enough"
aaid Van Tassel, gravely. II was the
sole witness, and I can tell you the
story truly as it happened"
DIT rnNT1NTFD