The Savannah morning news. (Savannah, Ga.) 1900-current, 1904-07-03
By MApYR. ?. HATCH.
Author of
"The Bank Tragedy"

again. Then, as if wishing not to an
ger him, she said, will you be seated?
l think you wished to see me on busi-
ness"
Il did, Constance, I did. 1t was on
the business of my utter happiness or
misery. 1 asked you to look at me to
see whether you could doubt me. Am
1 not the exact image of the man you
married?"
Yes" she uttered, family.
DO not look more like your hus-
band than the sickly, dark-haired
wretch in prison? Tell me that"
You do. Nevertheless that siclIly,
dark-haired wretch is my husband,
and you are not" said Constance, ris-
ing to her feet and confronting him
with blazing eyes and cheeks.
20 Constance, don't look at me like
that! How can you, when you know
1 love you so? Have you no love for
me?"
mo. none" she said, pitilessly.
She turned away and there was ST.
| lence between them. When she next
| looked up she met a face so changed
! that it startled her. there was such a
| lost despairing look in it, and his
voice was hollow when he spoke.
You have showed me heaven, and
now you thrust me back into hell" he
said, with terrible significance.
The womanly, plying element awoke
in her soul now for the first time. She
approached him and laid her soft hand
on his arm.
Victor" she said, Brother Victor,
can love you. l do love you as d
brother. l forgive you what you have
done, everything, if you will now set
matters right. You have done wrong,
but we will forget all that and love
you, Nane and l."
For the moment she ceased to think
| him forger, perjurer. She forgot
everything in her pity.
How could you do it, Victor?" was
her next womanly cry.
She saw him shrink and cover at her
words, and she said, soothingly, Tell
me, tell Sister Constance, about it,
Victor"
There was almost divine pity in her
voice. Her wrath was all gone when
she saw him detected and penitent be-
/ fore her He had not confessed. There
was no need. She knew he had dropped
all disguise before her, and would new
| er seek to deceive her again.
In the heart of a true woman there
are wells of pity and forgiveness. In
these elements she approaches nearly
to the divine spirit, which would
never wound the shrinking heart Con-
stance had long conceived how no.
BILE nature might be, by evil associa-
| tions, perverted, but until now she had
| felt no particular sympathy with the
| possible struggles of this man. All was
changed now. She saw in him the UNI
| fortunate child grown to manhood, the
| victim of wicked environment. 1t
/ might have been Vane instead, and who
! should say in that case that he might
not have succumbed as this man did?
will you not tell me-" she said
again, how it all happened?"
Constance" he said, Il am not all
bad. 1 am indeed Vane's brother, and
long ago knew of his search for me.
am forger a bank defaulter, but
| am not a murderer"
Constance drew back. She had for
! gotten about Lenora in the excitement
! of the interview. Now the dreadful
! charge came back with terrifying
| force, and she could not prevent the
repellant movement.
No, as heaven is my witness. But
of what use are vows in one like me-
! Here are my written words They will
tell you all-everything. l wrote it
long ago, for 1 meant to give up to
| Vane; only your beauty kept me in
spite of my will to go. l came here TO
| give you this paper tonight; for that,
and nothing else; but you see 1 was
led out OF my resolve when 1 saw you.
Will you promise me one thing?"
Il think so. Let me hear your re-
quest"
Let this interview be secret and do
not read this paper until a week has
passed.
What could she do? She was weak,
loving woman, whose sympathies out
weighed her sense of justice. She
had in mind the Saviour's
words to one who had broken
quick the law: Neither do I condemn
thee. Go, and sin no more" and she
cai
II promise not to read it till a week
has passed. Would you like to see
Clare and Perley?"
Yes, if 1 may"
Without speaking she led the way to
the room where lay Glare in her own
bed and Perley in his crib. pictures of
| childish grace and innocence.
Il was once like that he said. bend
ing over and kissing them tenderly.
Glare loved me from the first" he
said. What can you tell her?"
Il shall tell her that you were her
Uncle Victor. and when she is older
she will understand, perhaps"
How changed you are, Constance.
Once so repellant, now so forgiving."
1T was because you were trying to
deceive me. l almost hated you at
times for that, but now it is different.
You have changed"
Yes / am changed; but 1 scarcely
know what has changed me, unless it
was the ring my mother left me, my
different surroundings, the children,
your womanly influence. Perhaps il
was all combined, and perhaps / am
not naturally bad
THAT is it," said Constance, eagerly;
land you will go away where you can
live a good, honorable life, will you
not?"
us 1t not too late for that?"
1T is never too late-never. Why,
you have only to call back the impulses
of your nature inherited from your
good parents. You are not naturally
depraved, like some"
mo; think ! should like to be good.
Evil has no attraction for me. But 1
knew no better. l was nurtured upon
wickedness. My talents were coined
into evil deeds. I did not believe in
honesty l had no faith in Christian
ity. l thought It simply cloak. Kind
heartedness, so far as l knew of IL,
was linked with moral perversion.
Even Lenora, though she loved me,
aided and abetted my wicked schemes.
Can you understand it,"
II think / do"