The Richmond palladium and sun-telegram. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1907-1939, 1907-04-25

D1ck. Nay, SIT. l. 90 assure you u
rather have you for nothing than most
of them that pays. Come back tonight
or I'm sure / sha'n't sleep a wink for
thinking of you. Come in now, and
I'll get you some nice 'ot breakfast"
Erickson held out his hand.
mo, no. said he. II owe you quite
enough already, Mrs. Adcock. Besides,
I'm as strong as horse and doing
much better than you think. But the
world is full of kindness after all, and
God bless you for yours"
And his dark eyes, that but now hard
flashed and burned with bitter fires
that were far more striking always for
a shock of almost faxen hair-stood
full of tears. He could say no more.
but only wiring the dry, chapped hand
in his. Then he was gone and might
have been seen little later hurrying
with bent head toward Temple Bar or
later yet spread at full length in that
green asylum of his homeless days, the
southwest corner of st. James park.
And here he read the letter from his
friend. 1t began OH one side of the
large white paper and ended on the
next. The girlish handwriting was
pitifully tremulous, but vet instinct
with a self reliance then uncommon in
young English ladies. The letter ran:
Avenue Lodge Regents Park April &C.
Darling What does 1t mean? / was
picturinS you In Calcutta when / saw you
this afternoon in Piccadiily, / had been
thinking about you just then-I always
am-and there you were. Oh, my dar-.
ling. what can II mean? Tell me quickly,
or 1 shall go mad with anxiety, as 1 near
ly did on the spot this afternoon. Come
here. as you love me, and tell me ALI
Darling, what 1t be that has kept
you here and silent all this time. or
did you go out and come straight back?
No: there has not been time. The Jumna
sailed on the last day of September, and
1 have prayed for her safety all these
months. L was sure my love was on
board.
Oh if only dare have stopped to speak
to you few more seconds! The groom
was so close behind. But Tom, you
dress! 1 would not have left you without
1t. And now shall come to you there
unless you come to me. You looked SO
sad and Ill, my sweetheart! L can see
his poor face still!
Come and tell me all and let me help
you or my heart will break. You in
trouble. know it and must help you
II is my right We in the new Ave
nue. road; you Will easily find it. The
house is far the largest on the right hand
side as YOU come from town. There are
ueids behind, and our garden goes the
farthest back-that is, we have field of
our walled in with 1T. and there is
a green gate In the wall 1t is kept
locked, but 1 viii be there at o'clock
tomorrow (Thursday) night. and so must
you. Be there for my sake and tell me
all.
! have written the moment 7 got in.
will post 1T myself. Dear Tom. do not
be hard on this girl If you think her over
bold. for she loves you, she loves you and
would give her life to make yours happy.
Your own true CLAIRE.
Twenty-eight mortal hours to wait. I
shall hear my heart beating-as I hear it
now, I have heard it ever since 1 saw
that sad. sad face-until 1 see 1t again,
When Thomas Erichsen came to the
end of this passionate, pure love letter
he buried his face in the sweet spring
grass and lay immovable with a grief
too great for tears. The sounds of
London louder then than now boom
cd and ratified in his ears. To those
of his soul brave soft voice was
whispering the last godspeed, while
his own, the more broken of the two,
was vowing not only eternal con-
stancy, but eternal goodness and an
honest life for her sake. "a 1
:. He could see the steady gray eyes
filled with tears that never fell and I
Shining into his with SHE love that :!
knew nosshame. He must never LOOK
In them again nor ever more defile
with his the brave lips that had trem-
bled. truly. but yet spoken comforta BILE
words up to the end.
And here Tom lay in culpabIe pow
erty and dishonorable rags, fallen al
ready to an ultimate deep. So now,
too late, as through the gates of hell,
must come this message of angelic
love!
He read it again. tore off the clean
half sheet and, sitting cross legged,
wrote as follows in pencil upon his
knee:
1t means that I am a blackguard and |
no longer worthy TO be even your friend. |
The Junnna was ten days behind her
advertised time of sailing. and l was
miserable. You might have pitied
then. j neither ask nor deserve any pity I
now. I had vile thoughts. Even il 1 i
made my fortune, your father would hate /
my fathers son forever-and 1 him-so
due course. How could you help your
self? Those were my thoughts. And /
then / met friendi
He showed me the town. He helped I
me to forget. He won most of my money |
and took the rest by fraud. 1 never even |
booked my passage. And now 1 only live i
TO spill the fellows blood.
But that's all he did. He didn't dis |
grace me. / disgraced myself and broke |
all my promises to the noble girl of whom /
never was worthy and must therefore /
see her no more. 1t would be no good. I
Why should 1 insult you too? i have /
done enough in coming to this. Simply
forget me. for am not worth your scorn.
Forget me utterly. L am too ashamed to /
eign my name.
This he folded up. addressed with I
his pencil and sealed On fashion, |
with the waters which had been used /
already. Her lips had touched them
before his. Then he sat where he was
and noted the other moral corpses
stretched upon that daily battlefield
and wondered If any of them had
their lives as willfully as he
bis. And then he thought of his ia
Tiers white hairs and thanked God
they had won to the grave without this
to bring them there.
Then he lay down again and wres-