Waterbury evening Democrat., 1904-01-11


 "No,' he replied, nothing else would matter. But that is the cruel part of it. We must go our different ways, and after tonight we must never see each other again.
 "John!" Her face was ghastly white. "Oh, God, what are you saying?"
 Tt is the bitter truth, Glenn. We must walk our separate paths alone. We should never have met. wish to Heav- en we never had"
 Then you do not love me-not as I love you. Nothing on earth could make me regret our meeting, and nothing could make me give you up. Nothing on earth nor in Heaven You think so now" he said, "but wait until you knew the whole truth Then you will despise me as I deserve, and inever want to see me again. You will wish with all your heart that you never had seen me-"
 She shook her head slowly T cannot believe that" she said. T cannot believe that anything could cause me to regret our meeting. for it has | ever known" 4 It has brought me the greatest hap piness of my life" he said; ''but with that happiness has come my greatest sorrow. You, too, will find it so have quaffed the sweet and the bitter, while you have quaffed only the sweet. But the bitter Is at your lips, and soon you must drain 1t. even to the very dregSo Then let me drink it, John, so that may suffer as you have suffered. It is Heavenly privilege to share your sor- rows and pains. Tell me the truth
 the whole bitter truth and you shall see how I can bear it for your sake"
 May God forgive me, as I know you never can, Glenn! I--I have a wife" She did not faint She did not cry out. For moment she was like one
 1azed by hard blow. Then, placing her hand over her heart, she gave low moan of anguish, and covered and shrank like green plant under the heat of scorching blaze. God alone knew l how hard upon her that blow had fallen. Ransom hastened to her, and would have put his arms about her to support her, but she held up her hand to stay him.
 "No," she said; never again There was no anger in her voice, and her tones were low and sad, but he knew that she was in earnest, and would never waver. He looked at her for moment compassionately, then humbly and con- l tIitely said: q do not ask your forgiveness, Glenn, for I.know you can never grant it, but, l IS Heaven is my witness, never meant to deceive you. I should have told you, but my wife is worse than dead to me, and I never speak of her if can help it, and never thought that you could care for me like this. You will despise and then forget me, and can ask for noth- 1 Ing better; but of my life you will all 1 ways remain the best part, for as long as Hive will remember and love you. Z He paused moment, then added: May God bless you. Clem Good-by.', 2, He waited awhile, but she made nor ply. and then he started slowly away. But when he had gone step or two he
 heard her softly speak his name, and
 he stopped, facing her. Ss41ASt AOS SOA 6O AAhO l110t, ShC said, flor do forgive you with all my heart and soul"
 He stepped quickly back to her and reached out his arms impulsively. | "Is 1t true, Clem?" he cried Gan you forgive me-, after all?' "A woman" shes answered, slowly, "can forgive anything in the man she l loves.''
 There was a long silence, then she went, on wearily and more slowly yeti, I We. can saysno more, and now we
 must part forever. We must each fol- low where our paths lead. Yours leads to your wife and your home. Go there, forget me. and be faithful and true in
 the discharge of your duty"
 And your path?" he said.
 My path--it leads where God wills But you must go now. We have no right to be together hereH Yes, I must go. Good-by. Clem." "Good-by, John.
 Far toward morning, Ransom, sit
 ting in the door of his cabin, looking out on the still world, drew a deep sigh and
 murmured:
 Poor Clemi Motherless and friend