Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1913-04-27

never saw her again in New York. Once
when | was there in summer she was away;
another time she was i'll; and still another
time, though | 'phoned and called she was
always out. Perhaps, indeed, it was just as
well. The sight of her, the sound of her
voice, the touch of her hand against NINE
all had an effect on me so moving and pain
full that the bygone wound opened and bled
afresh. The love that has no return, that
never can have any, is an agony to a man.
and he had better overlap and forget it as
much as possible. Work is the great anti
dote for all human troubles work, and
broad, unselhsh interests.
had been elected to the two clubs was
president of the Mohassett Beautiful Asso-
citation, was chairman of the executive COM
mittee of the Good Government League,
and / guess there was little doing in the
town where Michael O'Donovan wasn't to
the fore, and ready to speechify or dig up as
the case might be: often both, and usually
the last Some folks laugh at those "promi-
nent citizens and call it self-advertisement;
but | wonder how many parks, or libraries,
or ch1ldrenS courts, or technical schools, or
spacious new hospitals there would be if
their inception was left to the criticizers?
Most of them would not give nickel to ad-
vance anything in the world, which might
stand still or 60 backward for all they care.
We Americans owe a lot to our rich men,
and it wouldn't hurt -sometimes-to
admit it.
TWO years passed away, and then most
terrible and unexpected thing hap
pened. | was away at the time in the Maine
woods, camping and hunting, and beyond
all papers and news; so that when | came
back it was too late unfortunately for me to
do anything. Bruce Livingstone had pillaged
a big estate that he was administrator of,
and, rather than face the music when the
crash came. had blown his brains out. l
started for New York as fast as the train
could take me: but, as said, was too late.
Stella-Mrs. Livingstone already left
for Italy with her two children, preferring
to bury herself out of sight in far country
than to remain, disgraced and heartbroken,
at home
My first impulse was to follow her; but
on second thought this seemed taking too
great liberty, especially as the newspapers
were full of the affair and might comment
on my going. So | cabled instead, wrote
and sent her draft for five thousand dollars,
telling her to count on me through thick and
thin, and that held myself now and always
at her command.
In time the draft came back uncashed;
but with it the tenderest and most beautiful
letter woman ever wrote. She did not need
the money, she said: she had enough of her
own to support her in country as cheap as
Italy, and in the poor way possible among
strangers. But she needed my sympathy,
she said. needed my friendship, and could
never thank me enough for the expression
of them in this "the darkest hour of her life.
1t was too sacred to repeat she would
teach her little girls to pray for me, and all
that. Big man as was, cried over that
letter; nor am | ashamed to confess it. l
had heart in my body, and it was wrung
as it had never been wrung before. Think
of it! In one second she had been widowed,
disgraced, impoverished, and from the
height of ease and fashion had been flung
down to live among laborers and fishermen!
Of course | should not have been man
had not realized the chance had now, nor
how her distress and extremity played right
into my hands. But, as God sees me, if a
word of mine could have put her back to
where she had been before, | should have
uttered it, no matter at what cost or hurt to
myself! That was the Dobbin of it, sup
pose. But as such word was beyond all
saying, and what had been done was done
for all eternity, with Livingstone moldering
in his grave, and nothing save evil living
after him, it was excusable for me to dream
dreams and have hopes and plans.
7 SET eight months as a sort of decent in