Waterbury Democrat., 1901-03-26

~H1s chi1d!n Frances was shocked and dismayed- His child! h there \ child-of his?'
 'Yes," said Louise, ''but if you reveal that I shall never be allowed to see her again. You will not tell, will you?"
 "No," said the wretched girl. Your secret,is safe with me. And, oh, be- lieved in him-I trusted him so!'' She wrung her hands and turned away her face.
 Itis fortunate you found him out in time," said Louise; "with zae, it was too late-too late! But please do not stay here. How did you find me out?'
 The doctor. He told me about you. He has told me everything, and want ed to see you."
 Don't cry, my dear child. What seems great sorrow to you now is really a blessing. You have made a miserable woman happy by your coming. Go now! He may enter at any moment, and it would be painful. ' Go, and don't tell anyone of this visit. Will you promise?''
 II shall keep your secret" said Frances. 'It is safe with me. For give me-if I have made you un- happy"
 q am sorry for you,' said Louise, simply. Frances lifted her head proudly.
 'You need not be. I am shocked and mortified; that is all. To-mor- row shall cease to remember him." She was going when Louise called her back.
 "Let me see your face again, my child. An, how beautiful you are! Good-by, I trust you. Don't grieve about him. He cannot ever be trust- ed. You were to be the victim of plot, and your friends are deceiving you- Why, the man is poor; ruined, unless he gets your fortune. He came from Europe to marry you-ah, God, he deserted me, he betrayed his hild-for your money. Trust none of'them, for they are desperate. They take advantage of your youth-they would persuade you into a hurried marriage"
 But I could not, could not be bound legally by such a travesty- such fraud!"
 'Your fortune would, and that is what he wants-that, and not you. Secure in that, he would be willing to let you go forever. Oh, but know him. Give him the shadow of a title to your fortune and you are lost!'
 ''But to think that Dr. Brodnar could have deceived me sony moth CTS friend! l cannot, cannot be- lieve it!''
 My child, trust no one. Possibly the doctor himself was deceived; it has been long since he knew him; and the man is a finished actor. Trust no man. The man who will not deceive woman for his own ad- vantage does not live. I know the world. If I do not, who does?" Frances took the hand of the sick woman in both of her own and held it in sympathy and grief.
 "I must leave you," she said, brok- enly. "Will you not tell me your name? I shall always remember you in my prayers" Louise half raised herself in the bed.
 My name! Then he did not tell you all. No, my child, do not seek to find out my name. Pray for me, if you willard remember me as a woman more sinned against than shining. Good night and good-by.''
 As Frances hurried homeward, choking and sick. with her sorrow, she found herself caught in the Wh1rls and eddies of great crowd and borne along helplessly past her street. Men carried torches and were cheering themselves hoarse, while horns added their din to the confusion. Upon every hat were the red letters "M. :" It was a demonstration by the fa- nous Minute Men, who rose in off 1,o l on nearly 100 years before when the drums beat. Suddenly she was damned against a. carriage, the prog ress of which had been stayed by the crowd. Its sole occupant was pale, silent man. In the glare of the torches his face exactly filled lines inoelibly fixed in her memory by the brief flame of a match; it was the face of Richard Somers, cold and inn mobile. Upon the seat by his side was a traveling-bag; his eyes looked out calmly, almost coldly, over her head He was not southern, he was not Virginian, and the hour awoke no response within his heart. Impul- sively, and forgetting, she stretched her hands upward, but memory re turned and checked the words that rose to her lips. Only an inarticulate : cry burst from them, cry low and half smothered in the roar of voices. Yet low as it was, 1t reached the oo' : cupant of the carriage. Something . in that voice, tone, vibration } touched a memory-cell. He turned quickly and looked back; girl hold , ing desperately to the arm of an old negress was being borne along by the . tumultuous human wave. For an in . stant only he saw her white face up , turned to his-the loveliest, saddes' face his eyes had ever gazed on, ane from her lips he heard come back on' . word
 "Farewell!" Forgetting all but tha he was leaving his life somewhere il . the fierce passions surgin behind him he made a desperate effort to aligh from the vehicle, but so dense was tn , crowd the door would not open. Ant