Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1908-06-21

Will nOld your secret sacred. Even
from my wife; the first secret shall have
ever kept from her.
First, then, let me say. and this is
what l know will rejoice you. that l am
not leaving home and country because Of
any crime 1 have committed; not from
any ofrense against God or man. or law
Thank God! l am free from such. have
always tried to live uprightly.
Here burst of pain Overcame him. and
with a dry sob he added: And that is
what makes the terrible unfairneSs OF 1t
all!'
The old man laid kindly hand on his
shoulder and kept it there for few mo-
mentS
he said. Harold shook himself as if to
dislodge the bitter thoughts. Mastering
himself he went on:
There was a lady = . Her father was
my fathers friend. My friend. too. God
knows: for almost with his dying breath
he gave sanction to my marrying his
daughter. If 1t should ever be that she
should care for me in that way. But he
wished me to wait and. till she was old
enough to choose. to leave her free. All
this. you understand. was said in private
to me: none other ever knew it.
Il honestly kept to his wishes. No man
who loved a woman. honored her. wor-
SHIPPED her. could have been more scrupu-
lousy careful as to leaving her free.
What 1t was to me to so hold myself no
one knows; no one ever will know: ever
can know now! For loved her. do love
her -" believed we loved and trusted
came a day when l found by chance that
a great trouble threatened her Not from
anything wrong that she had DONE but
from something perhaps foolish, harm
know. . =" He stopped suddenly. fear
ing he might have said overmuch of Ste
phen's side of the affair." "When L came
to her aid, however: meaning the best.
and as single minded as man can be.
she misunderst God my words my mean
Ing my very coming. and she said things
which cannot be unsaid. Things . i
chad to listen. She said things that l did
not believe she could have said to me. to
any one Things that l did not think
she could have thought. / suppose
I bungled in my desire to be unselfish.
What she said came to me IN new lghts
upon what / had done But, any
how. her statements were such that I felt
could not. should not. remain. My very
presence must have been trouble to her
hereafter. There was nothing for 1t but
to come away. There was no place for
me. There is none on this side Of the
grave! For I love her still, more
than ever 1 honor and worship her still.
and ever WILL and ever must! L am
content to forego my own happiness. but
feel that there is danger to her from
what has been Worst of all is the
thought and the memory that she should
have done so: she who ." she ="
He turned away overcome and hid his
face in his hands. The old man sat still;
he knew that at such moment silence
is the best form of sympathy. But his
heart glowed: the wisdom Of his years
told him that he had heard as yet Of no
absolute bar to his friends ultimate hap
piness. Years and the experience of
varied life had taught him that a wom-
ans anger is not always reasonable or
well directed. or true in its ultimate pur-
pose He knew that loud-vOced anger
is a relief, rather than a purpose of de-
structon. Well he knew, too, that 1t is
useless to argue with grief. Grief Is
armored in the heavy mail of egoism and
through it no shaft of reason may pre-
vail. So he waited. When he saw that
his companion was regaining his self
possession he saiu. softly:
II am rejoiced. my dear boy. at what
you tell me of your own conduct. If
would have made no difference to me had
it been otherwise. But 1t would have
meant, to you. a harder and longer climb
back to the place you should hold: to me
anxiety. But nothing is so hopeless as
you think. Believe me that God. who
knows both you and her. has some high
purpose in this doing. Already your sor-
row has won one young life back from
will come when you shall see this clearly.
The judgments OF the Lord are true and
righteous altogether This is as true to-
day as 1t was when Davids harp sounded
H..
ception Of this almighty and everlasting
truth. which was given to the world for
the good of man. Oh. believe me, my
dear young friend. who are now as son
to my heart, that there Will be bright
days for you yet. ." He paused
moment, but mastering himself, went on
in quiet voice:
II think you are wise to go away
In the solitudes and in danger things
that are little in reality shall find their
fix,o x1yi11 r.
self. your manhood. your worthiness to
love and be loved: to guide that other, If
guiding be needed, to the full height OF
her worthiness also.
IL recognize that we must not keep
you from your purpose of fighting out
your trouble alone But, my hoy. wher-
ever you SO may God be with you. and
watch over you and lead you in His hand
to your hearts desire. If the blessings
Of such as l am. and of mine, and the
prayer of the grateful hearts Of family
kept together by your bravery avail at
all. you will turn your steps home again
in a higher and a more hopeful mood.
shall not, ! must not, ask you for any
promise but trust that If ever you do
come back you will make US all glad by
SEEING you. And remember that what
said Of myself holds good SO long as
shall live"
Before Harold could reply he had slip
ped down the ladder and was gone.
During the rest of the voyage. with
the exception of one Occasio he did not
allude to the subject again by word or
implication, and Harold was grateful to
him for it.
On the night before Fire Island should
be sighted, when Harold was in the bow
of the great ship looking out with eyes
in which cleaned hope. he came to him.
and with him looked down at the ripple
of water thrown back by the rushing
foam and which famed with phosphOr
escence.
This is the last night We shall he to-
gether, and. If l may. there is one thing
which / would like to say to you
Say all you like, sir" said Harold, a.
heartily as he could II am sure it is we'll
rate. also. l shall be grateful to you"
You will yet be grateful. l Think he
answered. gravely. when it comes
back to you in loneliness and solitude you
will, I believe. think it worth being CRATE
full for.
Young men are apt to think somewhat
wrongly of women whom they love and
respect l was young once myself and
what l am saying to you comes out Of
age. We are apt to think that such
women are of a different clay from our
selves. Nay! that they are not compact
of clay at all, but of some faultlesS, flaw
less material which the Almighty keeps
for such fine work. 1t is only in middle
age that men-eXcept scamps. who learn
this bad side of knowledge yOung-realiZe
that women are human beings like them
selves With the same passions, the
same strengths. 1t may be. you know.
that you may have misjudged this young
lady! That you have not made sufficient
allowance for her youth. her nature even