The Cook County herald. [volume] (Grand Marais, Minn.) 1893-1909, 1907-06-22

at once, dear. You won't keep me
waiting any longer. have
1--WE will speak of that tomorrow, -
she interrupted.
He looked distressed and puzzled
He had an open face, as many men
have who follow the sea; it expressed
every shade of feeling.
When he left her that evening he
went back to his hotel and wandered
into the library. He moved aimlessly
from shelf to shelf.
| you seem to be looking for nothing
in particular" said man whom he
knew slightly, "but if you want an in
teresting book, read this
He gave him copy of the "Gil-
bingham Letters" Richmond thanked
him and took the book to his room.
The next day wore away Philippa
again sat waiting. Why did he not
come? She had nerved herself to con-
TESS everything to him, and she had
supposed that he would be with her
as usual soon after ten o'clock. She
had told herself that by II all would
be over. She would then know his
verdict
She started to her feet. when final
ly there was knock upon the door.
She flew to open it, and Richmond
came in.
He held her in his arms, kissing her
again and again.
Darling" he said, presently, 81 have
done you terrible injustice. I want
to tell you at once and see if you can
pardon me for having doubted you. I
have been reading that book
A shudder passed over her. He held
her closer.
There, dear, don't tremble so! I
know how you feel about it. OF
course I see that the letters, my ia
theirs and mothers love letters, must
have been stolen from you, and the
thief published them. I recognized
them at once, and, Philippe, dear, I
thought you had done it. Can you
ever forgive me for such an Injustice?
l was very angry, of course. And then
suddenly the truth came to me! I
cursed myself for not having thought
of it before. They were stolen from
you, and you were afraid to tell me.
Why were you afraid, dear? Afraid of
me?"
She did not speak. Presently he
| led her to the sofa, and they sat down.
For the second time in her life she
was confronted by great tempta.
| ton.
HE believes that they were stolen!'
she thought. IF I choose, I can let
him continue to think So All may yet
be we'll. He will never forgive me if
he knows the truth. 1 can plainly see
! that he will never forgive me- Only
| little silence-only a little lying -
She turned and looked in his face
that dear face which she had so 1onged
to see through all these weary years.
She stood very straight, her head
thrown back. She had never looked
more beautiful
"YOu were right in your first
thought" she said. "The letters were
| not stolen from me. I sold them.
Wait! Don't move or say word un-
til have told you the whole story 1
was desperate for some money. 1t was
nearly three years ago, soon after you
sailed. I was in debt-not foolish, USE
less debt, Jack, but for necessities,
actual necessities. Oh, Jack! Jack!
Forgive me! Say something's"
His voice, when he did speak, was
unacceptable. and you did this
thing to me, and when I came home
you received me as though nothing
had been done. You were not going
to tell me. know it now only be-
cause T. found it out by chance A
man gave me the book to read last
night. Mere chance"
|. mol" she interrupted: "You are
mistaken. I was going to tell you to-
day. I only allowed myself a days
happiness"
Happiness! Is this your idea of
happiness?
ut was as much as I could expect,
being what I am, having done what /
did. That was why asked you to
wait till tomorrow before we should
uAohO oily al lduS3CuCALo l. "dS Oil d1u
III knew it would make a differ
ence and-oh, Jack! Life has been so
hard! I was so poor, and it seemed
such an easy way to make some
money!
He looked round vaguely. He turned
toward the door.
"Jack!" Her voice was like the cry
of forest animal, wounded by the
hunters. Jack! I don't want to de-
fend myself. I can't. There is moth.
ing to say, but I did very wrong"
The door opened and closed and he
was gone. She heard him run down
the stairs, she heard the front door
shut.
It was two weeks later. Philippa
had spent the day in packing. She
was going abroad. An. opportunity had
arisen for her to go with friend and
she had seized upon it. Anything was
better, she thought, than to remain in
Boston. She could not write, for her
brain, spent with suffering, refused to
do it's work. She felt that her power
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