Hopkinsville Kentuckian. [volume] (Hopkinsville, Ky.) 1889-1918, 1908-09-29


MIm from a long ramble in
knickerbockers and Nor
folk jacket over the hills
was not thinking of the
sights and sounds of the pleasant even
ing. He had tramped miles since sun
down and had returned as he set out,
gloomy, unrequited. a follower of baf-
fed quest.
Set back from the street in a wide
estate of trees and shrubbery stood
great white porched house. Not
light had twinkled from it for nearly a
year The little city had wondered at
first then by degrees had grown indif-
ferent. The secret of that prolonged
honeymoon Harry Sanderson and the
bishop alone could have told, for the
bishop knew of Hugh's criminal act
He was named executor Of the will
that lay In the Korean chest, and him
1 David Stires had written the truth.
y His heart had gone out with pity for
, Jessica, and understanding. The secret
he locked in his own breast. as did
Harry Sanderson. each thinking the
other ignorant Of 1t.
Since that wedding day no shred of
news had come to either. Harry had
wished for none To think of Jessica
was a recurrent pang. and vet the very
combination Of the safe In his study
he had formed of the letters Of her
name! In each memory Of her he felt
the fresh assault of a new and tireless
foe-the love which he must deny.
Outcast and criminal as Hugh was,
castaway, who had stolen banks
money and woman's love, he was
still her husband Hugh's wifel What
could she be to himf And this fevered
conflict shot through with yet another
pang, for the waking smart of COM
Function which had risen at Jessica's
bitter cry, You helped to make him
what he has becomep' would not down.
That cry had shown him in one clarity
ing instant the follies and delinquencies
of his early career reduplicated as
through the facets of crystal, and in
the polarized light of conscience Hugh
--loafer, gambler and thief-stood as
the type and sign of an enduring ac-
cusation.
But if the recollection of that wed
ding day and its aftermath stalked al
ways with him-if that kiss had seemed
to cling again and again to his lips as
he sat In the quiet of his study-no one
guessed. He seldom played his violin
now, but be had shown no outward
sign. AS time went on he had become
no less brilliant, though more inscruta-
BILE; not less popular, save perhaps to
the parish heresy hunter. for whom he
-fkad never cared a straw. But beneath
the surface a great change had come to
Harry Sanderson.
Tonight as he wendell his way past
the house in the aspens, through the
clatter and commotion of the evening,
there was a kind of glaze over his
whole face-a shell Of melancholy.
Tomorrow began Harry's summer
vacation, and he had planned
months pedestrian outing through the
wide ranch valleys and the farther
ranges, and this should ser MIN up
again.
Now, however, as he walked along
ne was bitterly absorbed In thoughts
other than his own needs. He passed
more than one acquaintance with a
stare of nonrecognltion. One OF these
was the bishop, who turned an instant
to look after him. The bishop had seen
that look frequently OF late and had
wondered II 1t betokened physical ILL
ness or mental unqulet. More than
once he had remembered. with a sigh,
the old whisper OF Harry Sanderson's
early viloness. But he knew youth