Newport daily independent., 1903-04-04
BURNED BRIDGES.
BY CECIL CHARLES.


 ful children, he remembered. They were girls, charmingly dainty and sylph-hke. In short, aristocrats. 1t occurred to him they must be all most young ladies by this time, at school, TO doubt. Ten, eleven years, was 1t not? Elinor, the elder, had been nine. She had sat studying her lessons by the reading lamp that last night. After a little she had said goodnight to her mamma and to him and gone to bed.
 That last night! He had never liked his thoughts to dwell upon it in succeeding years. For always, and strangely, in such connection there arose before him a picture he would fain shut out; a picture he had seen or dreamed of seeing in some great gallery A boat that tossed upon sullen sea; within the boat solitary man, with drawn and merciless face, who ever and anon beat off the hands of some one in the water Small hands, and deli cately thin, they clung imploringly to the boat until he beat them off relentlessly and the dark waters closed over them Even now there was a catch in his breath as he re- membered. For a second he thought of stopping the carriage and order ing the man to drive elsewhere. Then it passed.
 shgE gE-would resaajive him, sIff~,$. She had smiled approval when her husband, in his old-fashioned way, had urged him to drop in on her day" assuring him any old friend of Mrs Merrifeld's and "our girls" was doubly welcome. "Our girls?" He had heard that Merrifield was was very fond of his wife's daugh- ters; had adopted them legally at the start, and had spent no end of money in their education, And nevertheless there had been a strangeness about meeting the Mer- rifelds at the Van Schotens' din- ner. If any one had told him II years before At the Van Scho- tens dinner Linda had been by far the most beautiful woman present. Linda, indeed! The Spanish name had suited her we'll Wealth and luxurious living had developed this radiant beauty. Why, she must be nearly 40. But she was like a flow CT that had pined palely, insignif- cantly, for want of sun, and now bloomed splendid in gracious shell ter. She owed him gratitude; no doubt she would admit this. No doubt she would show him he had saved her by the sacrifice of his own feelings that last night.
 His pulse quickened as he stepped from the carriage The house was plain and massive, the outside son. Der. Within, how differentl The magnifcence surpassed his widest fancy. And Linda mistress of this mansionl Linda, who had loved him so in the old days-might yet, perhaps-he checked the gloating thought. Merrifeld was not an old man. Still, if ever she should be left widow.
 Then Linda stood before him. The cream-white gown she wore elung to a perfect figure Unusual Iy tall, she had been fragilely built and never would grow stout. There was not line in her face, not a droop of an eyelid, not a tremor in her voice, which even sounded joy ous. Her simple greeting gave him a delicious ease.
 "You remembered my husbands injunction and came. Of course, he is accustomed to have his iniunc- tions obeyed. He was so long a judge, you know. And you are in town for the season?
 She had not addressed him by name. He had wondered if she would cali him ''Alr Seymour" or Mortimer Words came crowding