Waterbury evening Democrat., 1906-05-02

"I have spoken of my ambitions first and of your capacity to help them not because such things are first in my esti- nation, but because you have treated them as worthy of being put first. There are much higher things to be thought of. What man achieves is of far less consequence than what a man is. That which 1 ask of you is to help me be the best that I am capa- ble of being, and for you to be it with me. I want to make the most, the best, the happiest life for you that is possible Oh Barbara, you will never know how longingly l dream of a home with you at it's head! You can not know how absolutely the worthi- ness of my life depends upon such a linking of 1t with yours.'
 The girl had completely given way to her emotions now, but with that reSo- lute self mastery which was a dom inant note in her nature she presently controlled herself.
 You do not know all," she said. "You have not heard all have to tell you. You haven't heard the most i'm portant part of it. l have only told you what I thought on that evening when-when you asked-questions. 1 still think that ought to settle the mat ter. but you seem to think-perhaps you might have convinced me, or at least-oh, you don't know! There are other reasons--stronger reasons, req sons that nothing can remove.
 Tell me of them. I can imagine no reason whatever that could satlsfy me-"
 "It is very hard to tell. You know I never knew my parents. Both my mother and my father died on the day was born. seem to know my moth CT. because auntie loved her so much and has talked to me so much about her all my life. But she never talked to me much about my father. His family was a good one, his father hav- ing been banker, with some reputa- tion as an artist also. and my father was his partner in business. But that is all know of my father-no. that isn't what meant to say. I meant to say that that is all my aunt ever told me about him and all I knew until the night when you asked me-questions. After you went away that evening l went to my room and thought the mat ter out. I have already told you what conclusions I reached. When I had decided I went to auntie's room and sat on the side of her bed and told her everything. She cried bitterly-I didn't understand why at first. After awhile she said she didn't at all agree with me in my conclusions and added:
 "Tf the things you mention were all. Bab, I should tell you to stop thinking of them and let Mir. Duncan judge for himself. but there is something else, Bab-something very dreadful. nev- CT intended to tell you of it, but now I must. You would find 1t out very soon, for Tandy's wife knows it. and if she heard that there was anything between you and Mir. Duncan she would make haste to talk of it. particularly after what has happened between Handy and Mir. Duncan. Then you would never forgive me for not telling you
 "She went on then and told me what I must tell you. She told me, Mir. Duncan, that I am the daughter of a thiefy'
 Tne girl paused, unable to go on Duncan saw that she was suffering acutely, and he determined to spare her.
 You must stop now, Barbara" be said in a caressing tone. You are overwrought. will hear the rest an other time when you feel stronger and send for me. I am going to say good night now, so that you may rest. But . before go want to say that nothing you have told me can make the least difference in my feelings or my de- sires or my purposes. You are what you are. Nothing else matters. When you feel strong enough I will come again and persuade you to be my wife. Good nightr'
 As she stood facing him, with unut- terable distress in every line of her face, he leaned forward impulsively, but with extreme gentleness. and rev erently kissed her.