The Washington times., 1903-08-02

At first she wrote to him. He carried
her letters with him backward and for
ward, reading them. studying them. al
ways measuring them. Save only for
this one sorrow, the sorrow OF her alb
sence and his constant anxiety concern
ing her, his life had become JOY 10
him. His work was simple. and he did
II better than It had ever been done be
fore. His little Office was bright and
clean. his window looked out upon
quaint old cobbled market place. IN
front was a garden, bright even in these
late autumn days with simple flowers.
Backward and forward he walked to and
from his work. and the wind and rain
and sun seemed each in their turn the
sweetest things he had known. He
grew in stature and in breadth: the
latent possibilities of his manhood as
serted themselves. In the little village
he became a popular person. He at
tempted gardening and everyone was
willing to help him with advice and
bulbs and the promise of seeds. He even
ventured 10 discuss the crops with the
farmers whom he met on the way. He
remembered that he had once, before
the evil days, called himself a Chris
tian, and one Sunday morning he found
his way to the village church. He came
out with a curious sense of removal
from that part of his life which was
still something of nightmare to him
Henceforth the memory of it never trou-
bled him. He had come into real and
III.
among whom chance had brought him.
And then her letters ceased. He wrote
and wrote again. but there came no re-
ply. He bore 1t as well as he could
and then one day a chance remark
brought the singing color into his
cheeks and his heart for a moment stood
still. He applied for leave of absence
and went to London.
The address which she had given him
was 127 West Street. Edgware Road.
But when he reached II he felt again
for the letter in his pocket. No 127
was a public house. Yet that was the
number at the head of her letter He
pushed open the swing doors and en-
tered.
fresh sawdust An unwholesome-lcok-
ing youth. collarless and Unwashed. was
cleaning the stains OF beer pots from
the marble topped tables. couple OF
carmen were Trangling in a corner. q
dissolute- looking person in seedy black
vas drinking at the counter and carry
ing on a desultory conversation with
young person behind the bar Marwood
himself 20 her.
Can YOU tell me II Miss Day lives
here?" he asked.
The young person looked at him curl
ously.
Used to-" she answered. She's gone
away now"
II was true then. Esther had really Iiv-
ed in place like this. He looked about
him wonderingiy and back at the young
person behind the bar. who seemed I'M
decided whether 10 resent HIS scrutiny
or to encourage him as a possible ad-
mirer
Can you tell me-her present ad-
dress?" he asked.
The young person Jerked her head to-
ward a swing door. leading apparently
into an inner bar.
Don't know" she said Il dare say
Mrs. Wordsworth can tell you. She's in
here"
Marwood pushed open the swing door /
A stout. lorid woman stood behind the /
circular counter fianked with q gorgeous 1
array of mirrors and glasses. She was 4
apparently engaged in the task OF turn /
ing sundry black bottles upside down /
and holding them up to the light 10 es- /
innate their contents.
Il beg your pardon" he said. Il be- 4
ieve that Miss Day has been staying f..
here. Can you give me her present ad- /
arcss?'
The woman set down the particular /