The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1909-01-23

| Ut isn't that I have not suspected
 aye, known-what the outcome would
 be-" said the other mechanically. ssh.
 will marry, I know. It is right tha
 she should. 1t is right that she should
 marry you, my boy. You-you do love
 herY He asked the question almost fiercely.
 with all my soul, MT. Cable Sht
 loves me- I don't know how to con
 vince you that my whole life will bt 1 given to her happiness. am sure l can"--
 T know. It's all right, my boy. It. 1t costs good deal to let her go, but
 I'd rather give her to you than to any
 man I've ever known. believe ir you"
 Thank you. MT. Cable," said Gray 1 don Bansemer. Two strong hands l clasped each other, and there was nc 1 mistaking the integrity of the grasp. "But this is matter in which James
 mother is far more deeply concerned than l." added the older man. 'She likes you, my boy. I know that to be 1 true, but we must both abide by her l wishes. If she has not retired"- "Jane is with her, MT. Cable. She knows by this time."
 "She is coming" Mrs. Cables light footsteps were heard crossing the hall, and an instant later Bansemer was holding open the den door for her to en- ter. He had fleetfng glimpse of Jane as that tall young woman turned down the stairway.
 Frances Cables face was white and drawn, and her eyes were wet. Her husband started forward as she extend ed her hand to him. He clasped them in his own and looked down into her face with the deepest tenderness and wistfulness in his own. Her body swayed suddenly, and his expression changed to one of surprise and alarm. "Don't-don't mind. dear" he said hoarsely. Tt had to come. Sit down, do. There. Good Lord, Frances, if you cry now I'll-I'll go all to smash!'' He sat down abruptly on the arm of the big leather chair into which she had sunk Imply. Something seemed to choke him, and his fingers went nerv ously to his collar. Before them stood the straight, strong figure of the man who was to have Jane forever.
 Neither of them-nor Jane-knew what Frances Cable had suffered dur ing the last hour. She accidentally had heard the words which passed between the lovers in the den downstairs. She was prepared when Jane came to her with the news later on, but that prep taration had cost her more than any of them ever could know.
 Lying back in a chair after she had almost crept to her room, she stared white faced and frightened at the cell ing until 1t became peopled with her wretched thoughts. All along she had seen what was coming. The end was inevitable Love as it grew for them had known no regard for her misery. She could not have prevented fits growth; she could not now frustrate its continuation. and yet as she sat there and stared into the past and the future she knew that it was left for her to drink of the cup which they were fll. ing-the cup of their joy and of her bitterness.
 Fear of exposure at the hand of Graydon Bansemer's father had kep! her purposely blind to the inevitable. Her woman's intuition long since had convinced her that Graydon was not like his father. She knew him to be honorable, noble, fair and worthy. Long and often had she wondered at James Bansemers design in permitting his son to go to the extreme point in relation with Jane AS she sat there and suffered 1t came to her that the man perhaps had a purpose after all- an unfathomable, selfish design which none could forestall. She knew him fol all that he was. In that knowledge she felt slight, timid sense of power. He stood for honor so far as his son was concerned In fair play she conld ex. pose him if he sought to expose her.
 But all conjectures, all fears. paled into insignifcance with the one great terror-what would James BansemeI do in the end? What would he do at the last minute to prevent the mar riage of his son and this child of un- known percentage? What was to be his tribute to the final scene in the drama7
 She knew that he was tightening his obnoxious coils about her all the time. Even now she could feel his hand upon her arm, could hear his sibllant whis. per. Now she found herself face to face with the crisis of all these years. Her only hope lay in the thought that neither could afford the scandal of an open declaration. Bansemer was mer. ciless, and he was no fool.
 Knowing Graydon to be the son of a scoundrel, she could under ordinary circumstances have forbidden her daughter to marry him. In this in- stance she could not say him nay. The venom of James Bansemer in that event would have no measure of pity. In her heart she prayed that death might come to her aid in the destruc- ton of James Bansemer.
 It was not until she heard Graydon coming up the stairs that the solution flashed into her brain. If Jane became the wife of this cherished son James Bansemer's power was gone! His lips would be sealed forever. She laughed aloud in the frenzy of hope. She laughed to think what fool she would have been to forbid the marriage. The marriage? Her salvation! Jane found