Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1917-08-05
CONTINUED from Fourth Page.)

Continued from Fourth Page)
the stepping forth of the little lady
who played so deftly upon his super
stition.
He was wandering the corridors like
q helpless child. when gentle hand
fell on his arm and a soft voice whis-
pered in his ear:
You have story to tell. win you
tell 1t to me? 1t may save Miss Postle-
thwaite's life"
Did he understand? She saw that.
stranger as she was, she had but to
lead the way for him to follow, tell his
story. and die
There was no light In the drawing
room when they entered. But old Mr..
Dunbar did not seem to mind that
Indeed. he seemed 20 have lost all
consciousness of present surroundings;
he was even oblivious to her. When
he spoke. as he presently did. it was
with the freedom OF one 10 whom speech
is life's last boon, and the ear of the
listener quite forgotten in the passion
of confession long suppressed
She has never loved me-, he be-
gan. but ! have always loved her For
me no other woman has ever existed.
though ] was sixty-fve years OF age
when first saw her, and had long
given UP the idea that there lived q
woman who could sway me from my
own life and fixed lines of duty. Sixty
five, and she youthful bride. w as
there ever such folly, Happily l real
on my hidden flame,
She is not a good woman. but ]
E.ght have been q good man il had
never known the sin which drew
line of isolation about her. and within
which l, and only l. have stood with
her in silent comp partnership. / think
its beginning was in the passion she
had for her husband.
From the first l was In their conf
dence. l had been his tutor Why he
continued 10 want me in the house and
at his table, when 1 could no longer be
of service to him. have never known.
Possibly habit explains all. He was
accustomed to my presence and so was
she. so accustomed they hardly noticed
1t, as happened one night. when after
little attempt at conversation he threw
down the book he had caught up and.
addressing her by name, said quite as
If he were alone with her:
"Arabella, there is netting l ought
to tell you l have tried TO find the
courage to do so many times before
now. but have always failed. Tonight
j must" And then he made his great
disclosure-how. unknown to his
friends and the world. he was a widow
er when he married her. and the father
of a living child.
You a father, a father already
she cried, all her sweetness swallowed
up,in ungovernable wrath You whom
j expected to make SO happy with a
child. / curse you and your brat Il
He strove to placate her, to explain
But rage has no ears. and before I real
lied by own position the scene became
openly tempestuous- That her child
should be second to another woman's
seemed to awaken demon instincts
within her When he veutured to hint
that his little girl needed a mothers
care. her irony bit like corroding acid.
He became speechless before IL and had
not a protest to raise when she de-
clared that the secret he had kept so
long and so successfully he must con-
tinue to keep to his dying day. that the
child he had failed to own in his first
wife's lifetime should remain disowned
in hers. and if possible be forgotten.
started from my chair and sought to
glide away before / should hear him
utter fatal acquiescence.
But the movement l made unfortu-
nately drew their attention to me. and
after an instant of silent contemplation
Of my distracted countenance Frank said.