Page:The Father Confessor, Stories of Danger and Death.djvu/291

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XII. Walter Barrington

I FIRST met Walter Barrington at a children's party, to which I had taken my child. He was an insignificant-looking little man, and, as it seemed to me at the time, after many efforts to converse with him, despairingly dull. He sat in a corner, and when his eyes were not upon his children, he closed them with a shading hand, as though they pained him. A doleful figure for a children's party, I thought, and commenced to talk to him. I tried many subjects, yet failed to awaken his interest. It was a last effort that drew him out.

"I had to bring my little girl myself," I said; "my wife was not very well."

He awoke at once and looked around.

"I have three little ones here," he answered eagerly. "My eldest girl would not come; she is fifteen, and thought herself too old," he added smiling. "I have a son a year older. Of course he would not think of coming. He

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