The Washington herald., 1912-03-03

tainly i had no intimation when
left my Office on the afternoon Of
April IL, of the maelstrom of mystery
and tragedy-into which 4 was about to
plunge. / was worried and anxious, ii
is true, but only as every young man
is who finds himself for the first time
deeply in love. There was no portent
Of evil, no foreshadowing of the ter
rible chain of events that all but de-
stroyed my belief in my fellow-man,
and left its mark so deep upon my
memory that ] do not believe time ever
can wholly efface it.
. Even now that il is all ended, and the
shadow which hung so heavily over the
household Of my sweetheart has been
dispelled and the fend whose devilish
ingenuity brought shame and grief and
wreck to so many innocent lives is pay
ing the penalty behind prison bars
even now I shudder at the sight OF any
thing yellow. A scrap of yellow paper
wildly recalls-and l fear always will
recall-the painful events of the last
few weeks.
had been waiting ever since my re-
turn from court for a telephone mes
sage that had not come-the word from
Louise which ! felt would decide my
fate. had written to her the night be-
fore, asking il might go to her in the
afternoon to speak on subject of inn
portance knew she would under
stand the object Of my letter, though all
that | had asked was that she would
telephone me earlier than four whether
she would be at home.
From my window ] had watched the
great hand on the Metropolitan Tower
clock creep slowly to twelve. As the
chimes began to sing the hour of four
felt that | could bear the suspense
no longer. Message or no message,
would go to her at once. Before the
vibrant note of "On-n-n-nTe" had died
away | closed my desk with bang. As
the fourth stroke reverberated / stood
with hat and overcoat on, my hand on
the knob of my Office door, hoping yet
10 hear my telephone ring lmpatiently
/ waited a minute and then dashed to-
ward the elevator. The telephone,
learned afterwar6, rang almost the min
ute | was out of the room, and Louise's
voice called frantically for me, but l
was not there to hear.
1t was only short walk up Madison
avenue to the home OF Gen. Parrish, the
father of Louise With the doubt that
possesses every lover on such mission
a. this ! walked it, now laggardly, as
misgivings filled my heart, now quick
ening my pace as hope routed my fears.
AS / turned the corner into the street
where the Parrish home is situated, my
steps were leaden. What right had
to ask L.otiise Parrish to be my wife?
The daughter of a man worth many
millions, a girl of exquisite beauty and
of many accomplishments, one who
could choose a husband where she
willed-what right had / TO hope that
she would ever consent to become the
wife of struggling young lawyer such
as !? To be sure, my family was of
the best With my earnings and the
modest little fortune my father had left
me | would be able to provide for her.
But as yet, though my prospects were
bright, | amounted to nothing in my
profession. 1t would be years before I
could hope to give my wife the luxuries
to which Louise Parrish had been &C
customed.
On the other hand, felt that with
Louise as my wife l. could do great
things. | loved her with a great love.
felt that her affection and companion
ship would be inspiration enough for
any man to conquer the world. ] hoped
that she loved me- ! recalled the many
trihes which seemed to show, at least,
that she found pleasure in my society.
] tried to comfort myself, too, by re-
membering that Gen. Parrish was
self-made man, that when he married
he was as poor as I, if not poorer.
knew that he liked me and had con-
fdence in me. Was it then, after all, ]
asked myself, presuming in me to hope
that Louise would listen to me and that
her father would consent to her becom-
ing my wife-yet, why had she not tele-
phoned1
AS dragged my hesitating feet
across the street was aroused from
my reverie by the rush of an auto
mobile that al but knocked PIE over.