Waterbury Democrat., 1901-06-05


 'I'm not doing it for you," inter- posed the merchant, "but for her. How a man who professes to love a woman can seek to bring shame, and, conse- quently, unhappiness, upon her sur passes my understanding. I'd like to kill you-but where would be the Yain2 The mischief is done, and am not the man to hold a wife whose heart is given to another. As I said, l shall go away and leave you the field"
 There was a minutes silence, Har- rington haughtily watching the elder man, who continued earnestly: elf only I knew you would be kind to her, Harrington, and make her happyl Helen is good and true-Pd stake everything on her honor-and she isn't to blame because I am not attractive enough to hold her love. How could she be expected to keep on caring for me, when fascinating, unprincipled men of leisure, like you, have the in side track? She's not to blame, say, because she doesn't love me as-she used to do" And the merchants voice grew soft as his eyes took on far away look.
 "She was only eighteen when we were married,'' he resumed; "only eighteen and was nearly forty, but we were very happy-J am sure she would tell you we were happy. Such dear little home keeper as she vas not the woman of fashion and society that she is now, and her husband meant more to her in those days. There's nothing like financial success to make failure of home life. If we had remained poor, affairs might have been different" And dry sob rose in the merchants throat.
 ''It would have been different, too, if the babies had lived," he went on. 'sHow happy we were over the first one such a wonderful little fellow, we thought him! Even now l seem to feel her tears upon my cheek and the touch of her soft face against mine as she crept into my arms for comfort when he was taken from us. Some times, when she can't help it, she Avill think of the lost little ones and of their father. When she does, Harring ton, hope you will comfort. her."
 It was Harrington now who was drumming on the window. As he made no reply the merchant contin- ued reminiscently: "How bravely she nursed me through the fever-'twas her care, the doctors said, that saved me-and how delighted she was when I sat by the window for the first time. Perhaps if I had worked less to pro- vide her with luxuries and more tt, keep her affection she might have cared for me still.''
 Have you informed your wife of your decision to abseond and give her freedom?' asked Harrington, without turning. sDoes the plan meet her approval?"
 "I-the fact is, she doesn't know it or that have any suspicion of last nights denouement. To tell you the truth I haven't-I'd rather not hear Ter confess that I have become notE- ing to her. Even though I know she loves you I'd rather not hear her say so. I take the 9:3o tonight and shall leave without seeing her again. trust you will carry out my wishes in regard to the marriage and comfort my wife in the hour of her desertion," and the merchant laughed harshly.
 Evidently said Harrington, turn ing toward him, ''you did not hear all of last evenings denouement, as you call it. You must have retired from the scene before the finale"
 "Yes,'' answered the merchant. "I chanced upon you accidentally and, as a man of honor. heard and saw no more than was inevitable before I could escape You were planning trip to-was it Venice? when I with drew.''
 ''Nos planning--it takes two for that" explained Harrington, "and for your sake I am glad to say that last nights unfortunate crisis was entire ly one-sided. I love your wife-you, loving her, too, can perhaps under stand why-and last night, as you know, I rashly proclaimed my devo- tion. I took her unawares, surprised her with my avowal, and forced my kisses upon her. I alone was responsi- bIe for the scene of which you were witness"
 And Helen,' demanded the nor chant, hoarsely. 'Isn't she-doesn1 she care"
 Mot for me-" answered Harrington. ''I leave tonight for the west and-I may be scoundrel as you say, but your wife is a true woman and-lovcs you. Let me leave you this as proof of her devotion,s and handing the merchant note Harrington hastily left the room.
 Note in hand the merchant walked to the window and stood gazing down upon the swiftly moving stream of hui manity below-gazing with flood of gladness in his heart that brightened the otherwise somber scene. Then opening the note he read as follows:
 My Dear MT. Harrington: Allow me once more to express my deepest regret for last nights mistake, and to beg your forgiveness if I seemingly encourag ged your bands affection and my love for him am most surprised and pained to learn the nature of your regard for me. With my heart safely in my husbands keeping let me assure you of my best wishes for your future happiness and the hope that you will adhere to your resolution to leave the city. Yours, respectfully, HELEN BANFORD."
 When the merchant had finished the note he looked around for Harring- ton But the man was gone. Touch