Democratic messenger. [volume] (Snow Hill, Md.) 1869-1973, 1903-09-05

soul; the green-e!ed monster began to
enter in;o the paradise of his love-life
from l...t moment thencefCrWavu.
Was ii tr'!e t.iat Lucy was al CORES
pondeace with another man? Who
was he, and why did she so sedu. 2usly
conceal the fact from aim? There
was nothing he so dctested a mystery.
and he firmly believed there sACuld be
no such thing as a secret between
pliShted lovers.
lie carried the tubcrcses and hello
tropes TO Lucy that evening. but the
kiss with which he gave taem was
colder than its usual wont.
Are you well tonight. Walter? ta2
girl inquired. wistfully.
She was enc OF the cream-sliinael
Acknowledged creatures that seem IS
ii they should have been born under
the intense blue OF AN Italian SKY. and
her voice had melting. flateli.e soft
ness in its ring.
las well as usual" he answered
calmly. With his eyes nxed On huge
portfolio which lay on table n the
corner of the room, partially covered
with loose sheets OF music. Il did net
know you were much oil letter writer.
Lucy"
Il never write letters" she an
swered; but as she detected the dircc
ton which his glance had taken deep
crimson pvcrspread her check. and tho
token was net lost upOn him.
He said nothing more. however. but
took his leave as usual, inwardly re-
solving to sound this mystery TO its
lowest depths.
Il would rather live alone all my
life" he vowed to himself. than wed
a beautiful siren whom l could not
trust
Long after Lucy Ward deemed that
her aiiianced husband had returned 10
mis- home, Walter Marsden was pacing
the opposite side of the street, watch
ing her shadow reflected On the win
dow as she sat writing. And, later
still. ne heard the door open, and saw
her. wrapped from head to foot in
waterproof cloak, and Bridget, tho
housema:d. at her side, issue from the
door. with sealed packet in her hand.
Its awful late. miss; nigh on to
IL o'clock" pleaded the girl.
.'Iknowit. Bridget, Lucy's fiute-voice
answered, but the mall box is only
at the corner of the street. and must
post this tonight. Mr.. Jefferson ex
poets it, and l must not disappo!nt
him."
In an instant Walter had walked
across the street and laid his hand on
Lucy's arm. She reco!led with
scream.
'Oh. Walter. how you frightened
me. How-why are you here? What
has happened?"
Tell me-" he hissed. in a voice OF
suppressed passion. Ito whom are you
writing? Tell me why you lied to me
tonight. in saying that you never wrote
a letter Lucy. Lucy. nave believed
in you as | would believe in one OF
heavens angels
Believe IN me STILL" she said softly.
Look at the contents of this packet.
If you will have been writing 4 Sc
ries OF stories for the Elderbrooli Mag.
azine. one each week, to furnish our
house. when. we are married, with the
money | thus earn. | wanted to sur
prise you, dear Walter. Was it wrong:
| knew that you worked hard, and !
longed TO add my little mite TO the
new house which awaits us. That is
all the secret | have kept from you,
my future husband"
Walter clasped her to his breast.
Forgive me this once. my darling"
he murmured. land will strive never
again to prove so basely unworthy OF
YOU
That was their first and last guar.
rel: and Miss Marcia McGregor, Miss
Priscilla Epping. Miss Meg Jamison
and Mrs. Jones were all disappointed
in their hopes of scandal. And lit
tie Barbara Epping triumphantiy de-
clared that the dear little winged god
of love protected his votaries against
all the old maids and widows in crea'
tion.-New York Weekly.