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title: 'The Day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, April 20, 1917, NOON EDITION, Image 19',
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Image provided by: University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL
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with a glance back to assure himself
of the distance away of Williard,
"will you kindly walk on with me? I
have something of great importance
to say to you."
"I I yes, certainly," she stam-
mered, but her gait was reluctant as
she kept pace with him.
She had always considered Evans
far above her humble family in the
9 way of wealth and social position. As
a friendly neighbor, as a hopeless in
valid, as she had heard, she could not
very well decline his suggestion, al-
though her mind was entirely with
the man who 'must soon overtake
"You must trust and believe me,"
went on Evans, gravely and insis
tently. "By chance, but beyond a
doubt, I have learned that the per
son for whom you are about to aban
don home and friends is a scoundrel."
She came to a dead standstill, her
face white, resentful and unbelieving.
"There is no time to discuss this,"
proceeded Evans rapidly. "You have
been grossly deceived, as I can prove
to you. You must not meet this man.
Go home and I will later convince
you of the truth of what I say."
His earnestness held her, his su
perior will power drove back per
versity. She swayed as if about to
"He is a bigamist," added Evans.
"Trust me, I am acting in the matter
wholly for your own good, to avoid
the misery and heartbreak of those
at home who love you. Hasten, I beg
"Lilias!" called the voice of Wil
liard, for he had nearly reached them
now. The girl uttered a muffled sob
and hurried away. Evans put up his
hand and halted the scoundrel as he
"You are unmasked and your in
tended victim knbws of your true
character and designs," spoke Evans,
and his calm dignity abashed the
wretch. "If you take one step after
that young lady I will have you un
der lock and key within five minutes. 1
Go your way. Your evil schemes are
The man slunk away like a beaten
cur. Once again Evans saw Lilias
Deane. It was in the little park near
her home. They sat on a bench en
gaged in conversation for over an
hour. Evans disclosed all that he
had learned of Williard, and Lilias
was shocked, appalled, and then the
tears of gratitude came into her eyes
as she realized what this disinterest
ed friend had saved her from.
"Oh, never, never will I forget your
kind care for me!" she sobbed.
"Wherever you are I shall think of
you and pray that the greatest good
may come to you," and she bent and
kissed his hand and watched him go
away, and took up the old home du
ties, shuddering whenever she re
counted how narrowly she had es
caped the wiles of the heartless ad
venturer. It was a year later when the news
came to Rockton of the death of
Ward Evans. He was one of over 50
overtaken in a volcanic island of the
Pacific by an eruption. What had
been recovered of his remains had
been sent to his former home. A
simple headstone in the village ceme
tery told of his cruel fate.
And never Lilias forget him! That
last interview with him had left with
her an impression of almost adora
tion for the noble spirit, that, amid
personal suffering, had paused to do
her a vast service.
His memory became to her an
ideal. To her, though dead, he was
more than any other man living.
Every week she would visit the little
cemetery, and, seated on a grass plot
near the lowly grave, would weave a
wreath of the choicest wild flowers
and place them upon the little
"He was all that is noble and
good," site murmured one day, as she
kissed the simple wreath she had
made and set it in place. "He has
made my life sweet with its impulses
of duty, and I love him, I love him '
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