Evening star., 1901-12-14

never be discovered. Yet this adventure
brought back the whole; it raised the dead;
it restored the memory of her shame and
humiliation; of her short way with cred
itors, and threatened to bring her again
into contact with the man whose long bill
she had shifted to the shoulders of con-
demned criminal.
Soon or late, for most Of us, the past
finds out; If not in the resurrection of
the flesh, so to Speak-that is to say in the
appearance of fellow-sinners the re-
proaches of sufferers, then in shame and
self-reproach and elf-condemnation. The
man Fulton could not greatly harm Isabel,
but she trembled at the mere thought of
what he might say. He could not harm
her, but he might harm her self-esteem and
reveal to the world-somehow, she knew
not how-the thing of which she had been
guilty. Or, which was as bad, he could in
some way bring home to her the conse-
quences of her act.
Truly that man or woman Is but a little
way advanced In grace-an old-fashioned
gift-who can forgive himself, when he
considers how many have been injured by
his misdeeds; the innocent children; the in
nocent wife condemned by him to life Of
privation and humiliation; the tender girls
condemned by him to take a humble sta
tion of dependence; the gallant boys who
might have had ways of distinction and
wealth opened to them condemned-by him
to servitude and penury, with what face
can he ask forgiveness Of his sins when
the mischief he has done still lives and
bears it's full fruit of undeserved suffering /?
He cannot ask forgiveness. AS soon as he
understands what his actions mean he must
be content to bow his head and to pray
| that somehow the suffering he has inflicted
upon others may be laid upon himself until
| the consequences have died away and are
forgotten. Isabel was about to realize what
her actions meant-for others-the innocent
and the helpless One can imagine the Of
| fender finding out those whom he has in
| jured; one can imagine him going round
n m
and offering atonement; but suppose they
| cannot be found; suppose they refuse to
| forgive; suppose the offender cannot cal
| culate the injury done to them and to
pCsterity.
Isabels crime was to find her out; and
| that in a way which no one could have ex-
pected or feared True, the lawyer had
met and recognized her; but he knew moth
| ing of the crowning act; the sight of him
recalled an act of charity and pity which
was not displeasing to remember; they
| had the same secret shared between them:
but they spoke no more of it. He was be-
| come an agreeable friend and companion
In whose society she took great pleasure.
| who gave her thoughts more change and
her life more variety. She did not regret
the meeting. Now, however she was to
| meet with others connected with that day
| of fate. Rarely, says the poet, does pun
| ishment, though lame and halt fail to seize
| upon the flying sinner.
| While the man Pinder, landlord of the
| Grapes, was revealing part of the hidden
| portion of Isabers life to her brother-in-
| law, she, all unconscious, was in Mrs. Bry-
| mer's shop, engaged in the ever-delightful
| task of making preparations for new
| dress. The foundation was, l believe a
| gray silk, cool to tie eye and soft to the
| touch; foundation on which was to be
| built l know not what of complicate ed
superstructure of lace, ribbons and embroid-
cry over petticoat of pink silk with more
| lace and more embroidery. The dress would
cost more than the whole sum for which
| she bargained away her debts and de.
| frauded her creditors. But Of this she was
| not thinking.
| The very last thing, indeed, that Isabe
was thinking of, was this comparison OF
| her past and her present condition; she
| chose the materials, she agreed with Mrs
| Brymer about the treatment Of her ma
| terials, and when all was arranged she
\ gathered up her fan and her gloves and
| walked into the outer shop or .ante-room
In the street her chariot was waiting fol
! her.
| bly,. Now. as Isabel walked through the
| shop she passed couple in serious conver.
| sation; one of them she knew was Mrs
| Brymer's forewoman; the other was a girl
| apparently workgirl, poorly clad. AS Isa.
| bel passed the girl sobbed aloud. She was
| OF kindly heart, one Of those who cannot
| bear to hear girl, woman or a child
| cry II they can prevent 1t by gifts or BY
kind words-so she stopped and addressed
the girl.
Child" she said in her kindly soft anf
sympathetic voice. what is the matterT'
Here Mrs. Brymer plucked at her elbow
and whispered: Leave her alone; leave he,
alone. madam. Have nothing to do will
| But fsabl would not leave her alone
What Is it?" she repeated.
Madam" the forewoman appealed II
Mrs. Brymer, Il would engage her u