The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1904-10-05
NO ;lear. why do YOU ask"

NO. dear: why do you ask"
Just curiosity" Then, after a
pause, he added: Did you ever know
4 man named Tom Spencer"
She laughed softly. and. folding her
dainty hands, replied:
Now 1 am indeed on the rack. Why
torture my inocent soul with the curl
o$ity to know the reason for placing
ME in the witness boX?'
At her irrelevant answer his doubts
rose again and he rather sternly re-
peated his question, with 4 request for
4 direct reply.
Tom Spencer-Tom Spencer-where
have l seer or heard that name" she
queried softly. as if to herself. Il
certainly don't know any Tom Spen-
Ger. but I believe 1 have heard that
name somewhere"
And now. you dear, cross ogre. are
there any more conundrums for me?
Because, if you have finished, l will
90 and dress for dinner
He laughed and watched her disap-
pear throgh the door.
A month passed. and during this time
Robert Malcolm tried to detect a flaw
In his wife's devotion to Justify him
in the doubt which would creep in
whenever he thought Of the letter. But
it was in vain that he sought an ex-
PLANTATION in her manner. There was
nothing about her to suggest that
wealth had pal!ed upon her. or that
without poverty and Tom Spencer her
life was a blank. She was as ever air
lily affectionate. d&intily tyrannical,
hippant and serious in one breath.
with that ''infinite variety" which was
her greatest charm. One night when
they had returned from q dance, lie
decided to make a full confession to
her and to ask her for an explanation.
She had thrown herself into an easy
chair and looked even fairer than u.s.
ual.
Making a final effort, lie began. and
rapidly he told her all-ail about the
letter, his doubts and despair and the
unhappiness he felt whar.ver no
thought of the matter. While he was
talking she was looking down and
twisting the rings on her slender fin
gers. When lie finished she looked up
at him with a slow. amused smile
creeping v c her face.
"Now I understand those questions
you asked me about Tom Spencer.
Yes, that was the name-and 1 know
why the name seemed familiar to me-
"Well, what Of Tom Spencer? Who
is hc?
HE is q creature Of my own mag.
jnation, AID once having created
Thomas, I straightway forgot him.
When you asked me that day I
wondered where I had heard the
name"
"What do you mean?" he demanded.
"Only tbs. Bob-but first you must
promise not to laugh at me-" She
stopped, looked at him anxiously. He
nodded impatiently, and she went on.
"Some time ago I conceived Of being
literary. I thought out a story and de-
cided that 1 would depart from the
usual routine and have it told in a
series of letters. You got hold Of the
beginning of the story. I was called
away that day, and never thought
again of my literary venture"
He drew her up to him and then.
with his arms around her, he asked in
a husky whisper:
adele, will you forgive me-"
For answer she put her arms round
his neck and then replied softly:
eff you'll promise never to doubt me
The promise and the forgiveness
were consummated in one long kiss.
A week later. in a local paper Robert
Malcolm happened on the following:
"Dorking, April 23.-Mr. William
Spencer, an old and respected citizen
Of this city. died yesterday afternoon.
The deceased had long been Il sufferer
from paralysis. but his death was un-
expected. He leaves one son, Mr..
Thomas Spencer, with whom he lived,
to mourn his loss"