The Montgomery advertiser., 1904-02-17
THE END OF THE QUEST.
BY NELLIE cRAvEy arLLMoRE.

BY NELLIE CRAvEY aILLMoRE. Copyright, 1904. by Daily Story Pub. coo
 Clayton rose from his desk with a yawn, indicative of physical exhaustion and mental relaxation. He had written flo rthree steady hours without interuiis- sion, save once to hastily sign for a pres sing telegram, and to glance through its .<xS. c,,ta asf .L t l- -s -sss .2 H-.s- t-
 There had been a stteady downpour of sleet and rain since early morning and the streets outside presented a forbid ding aspect; a network of muddy rivers and slushy sidewalks. Still, 1t was with feeling of positive delight that Clayton drew on his macintosh, and slammed the office door behind him. | Outside. violent gust of wind almost took him off his feet, and hailing a pass ing coupe. he was soon jolting over the cobblestones to the big, comfortable house on - avenue, he called his home. s s. f.5-' '..... He paid his fare without a seconds delay. and ran lightly up the short flight of stone steps. A servant answered his impatient ring immediately, and Clay ton hurried at once to his dressing room. When he had completed his toilet for din- ner, he went into his wife's boudoir for a half hours chat, according to custom, DeLOT0 the Hledl was SctNCu. The room was deserted and he tapped softly on the door that joined 1t with her sleeping apartment. There was no re- sponse: he turned the knob and looked In. She was not there. A feeling Of tn- tense disappointment swept over him. It was the first time in the two years of their married life that she had not been waiting for him!
 He walked about the room aimlessly. staring at this and touching that with an absurd sense of unreality clinging to his mind His head throbbed painfully from the days strain, and his eyes com menced to burn In an altogether ridicu- lous and confusing fashion. For some time he stood in front of little steel engraving on the wall, the picture of a girl and some dogs gazing at 1t intent ly. Then he laughed. rather foolishly he thought, and crossed the room to his wife's writing table.
 There was decidedly unusual litter of papers over it-just as though she had been suddenly interrupted, and had not waited or come back to set 1t to rights discarded sheet of paper, sligh -iy crumpled, lay on the floor beneath It. Clayton stopped mechanically and picked it up. He had no intention whatever of prying into his wife's private papers, but sornething-a word-on the paper he held in his hand. sent the blood racing from his cheeks.
 My darling" he read, q will go with you at once. tonight-if you wish 1t. Try as will. I cannot see my way clear to leading this wretched sort life a day longer. It is a hypocrisy; a lie, if you could only know-everything. Let me hear from you as soon as possible and I shall then arrange my plans accordingly. I-"' Here 1t was torn off: probably she had thrown away this sheet, and rewrit- ten the letter on another.
 Clayton stared at the words, (undeni- ably in his wife's own characteristic hand) like a crazy man. The paper slipped from his nerveless fingers and fell unheeded to the floor. For several moments he thought rapidly. His wife's feelings were complete revelation to him. He has been living. then. in fools paradise all this time, while fancy ineg himself the happiest and most be- loved of men! We'll. he would go away. There was nothing else to be done. Who the man was that had robbed him of his wifes fidelity. he could not know-had Ano way of knowing or. finding out. At least he would not stay to hear the story of her wretchedness bandied from mouth to mouth. He would leave the house-and
 
 New York forever afterward. would lose his old identity in a world across the ocean!
 A year passed. Truly enough. Clayton had lost himself to his quondam world as surely as though the earth had swal- lowed him up. He lived in the closest retirement amounting almost to hermit age, in one of the most obscure suburbs of London. Newspapers he refused. lest some maddening allusion should find its way into their columns.
 One day, he sat idly turning over the leaves of magazine he had picked up aa a little news stand. The illustrations amused him; one could easily recognize them from their total unsimilarity to the subjects they represented He laughed a little at the idea, glancing carelessly - ------------=--