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Newspaper Page Text
By Mildred Caroline? Coodridge.
Through' the village street poured
night's laggard legion, blind with
rain. It was an tiour-of dark doors
and shrouded houses. Anon the lurk
ing moon would, leap forth. One
tired wayfarer passed a rose-hung
gate. The park-like solitude beyond
it attracted him.
Lane Allen, that was his name
Lane Allen now Wallace Irwin
once. In the criminal annals that
last name was covered with sin and
"Oh, If I Am Worthy, Take Me!'
stain, yet as the mournful eyes of the
young man swept the lovely scene
about him, the grand mansion nes
tled in a brilliant glow pZ light, their
depths showed the patience and suf
fering of a martyr rather than the
remorse or desperateness of a vicious
Some notable function was in pro
. cess at the house, the home of Gor
don Brooks. Bright forms showed
on the porches. Then one light, airy
figure flitted so closely past the in
truder that he shrank back. The
glinting moonlight showed a beauti
ful woman in evening dress. Her
manner was agitated.. She ran a few
yards beyond -the rustic seat where
the intruder rested. From the near
shrubbery a man advanced.- Their
hands met. Weeping violently, the
woman's head was pillowed on his
"It is wrong," the wayfarer heard
her sob, "but we are never to meet
"I "start for the other side Of the
world with the morrow," spoke the
man. "Beatrice, you1 belong to an
other, my life is chained to one long
sorrow, but we can think of one an
other, and know that we have been
true to ourselves and heaven."
"Always always. Ronald, it was
my mother's wicked lpnging for
wealth and social distinction. I am
the wife of Gordon Brooks, unloving,
but faithful. It is my life sacrifice."
Lane Allen shrank still further
back. A man came slinking down
the path. He bore the semblance of
an upper servant. He peered from
behind a sheltering bush. Then he
started on a run back for the house.
Almost immediately there came in
to view a new, figure. A radiant
young girl hastened across the path.
She joined th& man and the "woman.
"Ronald," She cried, -"go, fly.! Be
atrice, return to the house at once.
That spy, Dallas, has followed you.
He has gone to send your husband
here. If you are discovered, his
jealous rage will make a scandal." -
"Good-bye, good-bye!" spoke the
man tenderly. fThe woman clung "to
him, and then, as he retreated to
leave the grounds, she started to re
gain the house fronj the rear.
The girl who had warned them
stood with her hand pressed agitated
ly to her breast. She stole towards
the path. Her advance 'brought Al
len within her view.
"Who are you?" she faltered,
"A stranger." - -,
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