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King Country Chronicle, Volume VII, Issue 605, 24 September 1913, Page 6

Sgfism- n 'ore lost to me, than if yot ''Yie.i are angry. Kvelyii. ! >,, no' wonder- is was baa enouuh." "! am not ;iiil'!V" she replied "All love, all sorrow, all anger, al .eeiing' died in my "m-ari when yosn agent broil.:.:'!)! Tin" your message. . . ha'.v nothiu.g to inrgive—-long year.' ago I pardoned you. You have heei siead i'.o me t-ver sinee ; you are dea( how. Slow did you tind that T \va; here ?'' '' You wili irWii that Providenet helr.ed me w'nen 1 tell you, Evelyn Yon remember the locket I gave yoi years n-o '.' You remember the daj ami the hour. I see, by your face Last slight— only last night—l sav that locket round Gertie's neck. : isnew it in one moment. Poor child ! :•!,'.• must have thought that I was mad. 1 seized it, and he! where she got it from. She said her mother. I do not know how il was ; in one moment it flashed across trie, that that mother was you, anc that she was mine." "Did you tell her ?" she asked and for the iirst time be detected e faint tremor in her voice. ' That is the way to her heart," hj( thought to himself; "through hei child!" '•'Xo, 1 did not. The secret; was yours as well as mine. I longed tc take her in my arms and kiss her But I came here first to see you." "Thank God !" she said. i: 'Gerti< must never know." "tevelyn, I have done wrong. Per haps no man ever did worse. I conlis., to you that I was the most cowardly wretch under heaven. ] :lo not seek to palliate my fault —it is well punished by your scorn. Kwlyn—but, surely, surely you wil' t.oi. deny me all claim to my child, rnv little Gertie ?"

"You parted with all such claim," -he replied, calmly. When you sold !)i\ you sold Gertie, too." ''l am a lonely man," he said ; : 'my home is desolate, and our child -cms fond of me. Evelyn, must she "c-.*cr know me ? Show me some little pity." "I shouid prefer that Gertie lived in perfect ignorance of my story," ~h<s said.

He bowed his head humbly before ner—o humbly that Evelyn was pained for him.

"It shall be as you wish," he ■raid : '"my sin was so great no punshment could be too great for it. tf .you decide that Gertie is never to mow me, I will respect your de-.i-uon, Evelyn. It is bitterly hard, nit all favours must come now from i'ou i; if you cannot grant me this I .viit he content. I think she likes ne, and my heart years for my own .•hi Id."

He saw that the mildness, the submission of his own words had touched her.

"1 have never seen any one so beau:ifnl as Gertie," he said. "You are ovely, Evelyn, but Gertie is bright, in 1 you—ah, miserable me !— you ire f-ad. Gertie has the brightest ;ye., the sweetest smile, the fairest "ace T have ever seen. Do you ;;iow how I loved her the first moment I saw her ? I tohi her once that she must always have been in contact with a very superior mind. How little did I dream that mind i\as yours !"

She was thinking deeply. True, he .vas dead to her ; nothing couhl restore the old love to life, nothing L-oiild bring it back again. Her vvorld was over,; but for Gertie ? Had she a right to refuse for Gertie that which the world values most ? She had done so once. She had chosen obscurity and poverty ; but now the man who had sinned against her repented of his sin, could she stand in her daughter's light any longer ? "Will you forgive me, Evelyn, if I say a few words more ? You are the least worldly of women, I know i but do consider the advantages you throw away for Gertie. She is actually Eady Gertrude Noel—my heiress ; at my death all my estates and the title of countess must be hers. If you refuse them to her while T live, she must have them when I die. Evelyn, noblest of women, will you refuse me the comfort, the happiness of a daughter's love, and such a daughter as Gertie ?"

'"I cannot, decide ; you have taken me so much by surprise ; my life is all changed." He thought she was yielding. "Evelyn," he said, "I will do all that mortal man can do if yon will forgive me. I will make such reparation to. you ".s no man ever made if you will only love me again." A vase of beautiful flowers stood near her ; she took from them a rose. "Do you see," she asked, '"how complete this is in its beauty ?" "I do," he replied, wonderingly. Then with her white, soft lingers, she pulled the flower to pieces leaf by leaf. "There," she continued—"there are are the leaves, the stem, the thorns ; hut, once destroyed, could any human power make that rose live again ?" "No," he replied, sadly. "Then take that for my reply. My love whs shattered, my heart was broken—nothing can make them live again." "It is j:ist," he said,; "I deserve it all ; but, Kvelyn, Evelyn ! should justice never be tempered with mercy ? T came to you repentent ami humble, not proud in my sin. I own thf eowardiee, the wickedness of what 1 did. Evelyn,, if I ask God for pardon, will He b* unforgiving as yon ?" : "i ani no! a.ni or giving." she replied. "Yon do not understand. From sbe depth of my heart 1 for;;ive you. i o.ve you no ill-will, no maliee. ; v.a.uid en.' you good service if i; v.. err ill u:y power ; but 1 cannot riine liaei. to liic i.i - ;ii which IS :jt one dead.''