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diff --git a/14632-0.txt b/14632-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..37fa457 --- /dev/null +++ b/14632-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3892 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14632 *** + +THE MYSTERY +OF MARY + +BY +GRACE LIVINGSTON HILL LUTZ + +AUTHOR OF + +MARCIA SCHUYLER, +PHOEBE DEANE, ETC. + +FRONTISPIECE BY + +ANNA W. SPEAKMAN + +[Illustration] + +GROSSET & DUNLAP + +PUBLISHERS NEW YORK + + * * * * * + +Made in the United States of America + +COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY J.B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY + +COPYRIGHT, 1912, BY J.B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY + + + + + +THE MYSTERY OF MARY + + +[Illustration: THEY STRUGGLED UP, SCARCELY PAUSING FOR BREATH _Page 8_] + + + + +The Mystery _of_ Mary + + + + +I + + +He paused on the platform and glanced at his watch. The train on which he +had just arrived was late. It hurried away from the station, and was +swallowed up in the blackness of the tunnel, as if it knew its own +shortcomings and wished to make up for them. + +It was five minutes of six, and as the young man looked back at the long +flight of steps that led to the bridge across the tracks, a delicate +pencilling of electric light flashed into outline against the city's +deepening dusk, emphasizing the lateness of the hour. He had a dinner +engagement at seven, and it was yet some distance to his home, where a +rapid toilet must be made if he were to arrive on time. + +The stairway was long, and there were many people thronging it. A shorter +cut led down along the tracks under the bridge, and up the grassy +embankment. It would bring him a whole block nearer home, and a line of +cabs was standing over at the corner just above the bridge. It was against +the rules to walk beside the tracks--there was a large sign to that effect +in front of him--but it would save five minutes. He scanned the platform +hastily to see if any officials were in sight, then bolted down the +darkening tracks. + +Under the centre of the bridge a slight noise behind him, as of soft, +hurrying footsteps, caught his attention, and a woman's voice broke upon +his startled senses. + +"Please don't stop, nor look around," it said, and the owner caught up +with him now in the shadow. "But will you kindly let me walk beside you +for a moment, till you can show me how to get out of this dreadful place? +I am very much frightened, and I'm afraid I shall be followed. Will you +tell me where I can go to hide?" + +After an instant's astonished pause, he obeyed her and kept on, making +room for her to walk beside him, while he took the place next to the +tracks. He was aware, too, of the low rumble of a train, coming from the +mouth of the tunnel. + +His companion had gasped for breath, but began again in a tone of apology: + +"I saw you were a gentleman, and I didn't know what to do. I thought you +would help me to get somewhere quickly." + +Just then the fiery eye of the oncoming train burst from the tunnel ahead. +Instinctively, the young man caught his companion's arm and drew her +forward to the embankment beyond the bridge, holding her, startled and +trembling, as the screaming train tore past them. + +The pent black smoke from the tunnel rolled in a thick cloud about them, +stifling them. The girl, dazed with the roar and blinded by the smoke, +could only cling to her protector. For an instant they felt as if they +were about to be drawn into the awful power of the rushing monster. Then +it had passed, and a roar of silence followed, as if they were suddenly +plunged into a vacuum. Gradually the noises of the world began again: the +rumble of a trolley-car on the bridge; the "honk-honk" of an automobile; +the cry of a newsboy. Slowly their breath and their senses came back. + +The man's first thought was to get out of the cut before another train +should come. He grasped his companion's arm and started up the steep +embankment, realizing as he did so that the wrist he held was slender, and +that the sleeve which covered it was of the finest cloth. + +They struggled up, scarcely pausing for breath. The steps at the side of +the bridge, made for the convenience of railroad hands, were out of the +question, for they were at a dizzy height, and hung unevenly over the +yawning pit where trains shot constantly back and forth. + +As they emerged from the dark, the man saw that his companion was a young +and beautiful woman, and that she wore a light cloth gown, with neither +hat nor gloves. + +At the top of the embankment they paused, and the girl, with her hand at +her throat, looked backward with a shudder. She seemed like a young bird +that could scarcely tell which way to fly. + +Without an instant's hesitation, the young man raised his hand and hailed +a four-wheeler across the street. + +"Come this way, quick!" he urged, helping her in. He gave the driver his +home address and stepped in after her. Then, turning, he faced his +companion, and was suddenly keenly aware of the strange situation in which +he had placed himself. + +"Can you tell me what is the matter," he asked, "and where you would like +to go?" + +The girl had scarcely recovered breath from the long climb and the fright, +and she answered him in broken phrases. + +"No, I cannot tell you what is the matter"--she paused and looked at him, +with a sudden comprehension of what he might be thinking about +her--"but--there is nothing--that is--I have done nothing wrong--" She +paused again and looked up with eyes whose clear depths, he felt, could +hide no guile. + +"Of course," he murmured with decision, and then wondered why he felt so +sure about it. + +"Thank you," she said. Then, with frightened perplexity: "I don't know +where to go. I never was in this city before. If you will kindly tell me +how to get somewhere--suppose to a railroad station--and yet--no, I have +no money--and"--then with a sudden little movement of dismay--"and I have +no hat! Oh!" + +The young man felt a strong desire to shield this girl so unexpectedly +thrown on his mercy. Yet vague fears hovered about the margin of his +judgment. Perhaps she was a thief or an adventuress. It might be that he +ought to let her get out of the odd situation she appeared to be in, as +best she might. Yet even as the thought flashed through his mind he seemed +to hear an echo of her words, "I saw you were a gentleman," and he felt +incapable of betraying her trust in him. + +The girl was speaking again: "But I must not trouble you any more. You +have been very kind to get me out of that dreadful place. If you will +just stop the carriage and let me out, I am sure I can take care of +myself." + +"I could not think of letting you get out here alone. If you are in +danger, I will help you." The warmth of his own words startled him. He +knew he ought to be more cautious with a stranger, but impetuously he +threw caution to the winds. "If you would just tell me a little bit about +it, so that I should know what I ought to do for you----" + +"Oh, I must not tell you! I couldn't!" said the girl, her hand fluttering +up to her heart, as if to hold its wild beating from stifling her. "I am +sorry to have involved you for a moment in this. Please let me out here. I +am not frightened, now that I got away from that terrible tunnel. I was +afraid I might have to go in there alone, for I didn't see any way to get +up the bank, and I couldn't go back." + +"I am glad I happened to be there," breathed the young man fervently. "It +would have been dangerous for you to enter that tunnel. It runs an entire +block. You would probably have been killed." + +The girl shut her eyes and pressed her fingers to them. In the light of +the street lamps, he saw that she was very white, and also that there were +jewels flashing from the rings on her fingers. It was apparent that she +was a lady of wealth and refinement. What could have brought her to this +pass? + +The carriage came to a sudden stop, and, looking out, he saw they had +reached his home. A new alarm seized him as the girl moved as if to get +out. His dignified mother and his fastidious sister were probably not in, +but if by any chance they should not have left the house, what would they +think if they saw a strange, hatless young woman descend from the carriage +with him? Moreover, what would the butler think? + +"Excuse me," he said, "but, really, there are reasons why I shouldn't like +you to get out of the carriage just here. Suppose you sit still until I +come out. I have a dinner engagement and must make a few changes in my +dress, but it will take me only a few minutes. You are in no danger, and I +will take you to some place of safety. I will try to think what to do +while I am gone. On no account get out of the carriage. It would make the +driver suspicious, you know. If you are really followed, he will let no +one disturb you in the carriage, of course. Don't distress yourself. I'll +hurry. Can you give me the address of any friend to whom I might 'phone or +telegraph?" + +She shook her head and there was a glitter of tears in her eyes as she +replied: + +"No, I know of no one in the city who could help me." + +"I will help you, then," he said with sudden resolve, and in a tone that +would be a comfort to any woman in distress. + +His tone and the look of respectful kindliness he gave her kept the girl +in the carriage until his return, although in her fear and sudden distrust +of all the world, she thought more than once of attempting to slip away. +Yet without money, and in a costume which could but lay her open to +suspicion, what was she to do? Where was she to go? + +As the young man let himself into his home with his latch-key, he heard +the butler's well trained voice answering the telephone. "Yes, ma'am; +this is Mrs. Dunham's residence.... No, ma'am, she is not at home.... No, +ma'am, Miss Dunham is out also.... Mr. Dunham? Just wait a moment, please +I think Mr. Dunham has just come in. Who shall I say wishes to speak to +him?... Mrs. Parker Bowman?... Yes, ma'am; just wait a minute, please. +I'll call Mr. Dunham." + +The young man frowned. Another interruption! And Miss Bowman! It was at +her house that he was to dine. What could the woman want? Surely it was +not so late that she was looking him up. But perhaps something had +happened, and she was calling off her dinner. What luck if she was! Then +he would be free to attend the problem of the young woman whom fate, or +Providence, had suddenly thrust upon his care. + +He took the receiver, resolved to get out of going to the dinner if it +were possible. + +"Good evening, Mrs. Bowman." + +"Oh, is that you, Mr. Dunham? How relieved I am! I am in a bit of +difficulty about my dinner, and called up to see if your sister couldn't +help me out. Miss Mayo has failed me. Her sister has had an accident, and +she cannot leave her. She has just 'phoned me, and I don't know what to +do. Isn't Cornelia at home? Couldn't you persuade her to come and help me +out? She would have been invited in Miss Mayo's place if she had not told +me that she expected to go to Boston this week. But she changed her plans, +didn't she? Isn't she where you could reach her by 'phone and beg her to +come and help me out? You see, it's a very particular dinner, and I've +made all my arrangements." + +"Well, now, that's too bad, Mrs. Bowman," began the young man, thinking he +saw a way out of both their difficulties. "I'm sorry Cornelia isn't here. +I'm sure she would do anything in her power to help you. But she and +mother were to dine in Chestnut Hill to-night, and they must have left the +house half an hour ago. I'm afraid she's out of the question. Suppose you +leave me out? You won't have any trouble then except to take two plates +off the table"--he laughed pleasantly--"and you would have even couples. +You see," he hastened to add, as he heard Mrs. Parker Bowman's preliminary +dissent--"you see, Mrs. Bowman, I'm in somewhat of a predicament myself. +My train was late, and as I left the station I happened to meet a young +woman--a--a friend." (He reflected rapidly on the old proverb, "A friend +in need is a friend indeed." In that sense she was a friend.) "She is +temporarily separated from her friends, and is a stranger in the city. In +fact, I'm the only acquaintance or friend she has, and I feel rather under +obligation to see her to her hotel and look up trains for her. She leaves +the city to-night." + +"Now, look here, Tryon Dunham, you're not going to leave me in the lurch +for any young woman. I don't care how old an acquaintance she is! You +simply bring her along. She'll make up my number and relieve me +wonderfully. No, don't you say a word. Just tell her that she needn't +stand on ceremony. Your mother and I are too old friends for that. Any +friend of yours is a friend of mine, and my house is open to her. She +won't mind. These girls who have travelled a great deal learn to step over +the little formalities of calls and introductions. Tell her I'll call on +her afterwards, if she'll only remain in town long enough, or I'll come +and take dinner with her when I happen to be in her city. I suppose she's +just returned from abroad--they all have--or else she's just going--and if +she hasn't learned to accept things as she finds them, she probably will +soon. Tell her what a plight I'm in, and that it will be a real blessing +to me if she'll come. Besides--I didn't mean to tell you--I meant it for a +surprise, but I may as well tell you now--Judge Blackwell is to be here, +with his wife, and I especially want you to meet him. I've been trying to +get you two together for a long time." + +"Ah!" breathed the young man, with interest. "Judge Blackwell! I have +wanted to meet him." + +"Well, he has heard about you, too, and I think he wants to meet you. Did +you know he was thinking of taking a partner into his office? He has +always refused--but that's another story, and I haven't time to talk. You +ought to be on your way here now. Tell your friend I will bless her +forever for helping me out, and I won't take no for an answer. You said +she'd just returned from abroad, didn't you? Of course she's musical. You +must make her give us some music. She will, won't she? I was depending on +Miss Mayo for that this evening." + +"Well, you might be able to persuade her," murmured the distracted young +man at the 'phone, as he struggled with one hand to untie his necktie and +unfasten his collar, and mentally calculated how long it would take him to +get into his dress suit. + +"Yes, of course. You'd better not speak of it--it might make her decline. +And don't let her stop to make any changes in her dress. Everybody will +understand when I tell them she's just arrived--didn't you say?--from the +other side, and we caught her on the wing. There's some one coming now. +Do, for pity's sake, hurry, Tryon, for my cook is terribly cross when I +hold up a dinner too long. Good-by. Oh, by the way, what did you say was +her name?" + +"Oh--ah!" He had almost succeeded in releasing his collar, and was about +to hang up the receiver, when this new difficulty confronted him. + +"Oh, yes, of course; her name--I had almost forgotten," he went on wildly, +to make time, and searched about in his mind for a name--any name--that +might help him. The telephone book lay open at the r's. He pounced upon it +and took the first name his eye caught. + +"Yes--why--Remington, Miss Remington." + +"Remington!" came in a delighted scream over the phone. "Not Carolyn +Remington? That would be too good luck!" + +"No," he murmured distractedly; "no, not Carolyn. Why, I--ah--I +think--Mary--Mary Remington." + +"Oh, I'm afraid I haven't met her, but never mind. Do hurry up, Tryon. It +is five minutes of seven. Where did you say she lives?" But the receiver +was hung up with a click, and the young man tore up the steps to his room +three at a bound. Dunham's mind was by no means at rest. He felt that he +had done a tremendously daring thing, though, when he came to think of it, +he had not suggested it himself; and he did not quite see how he could get +out of it, either, for how was he to have time to help the girl if he did +not take her with him? + +Various plans floated through his head. He might bring her into the house, +and make some sort of an explanation to the servants, but what would the +explanation be? He could not tell them the truth about her, and how would +he explain the matter to his mother and sister? For they might return +before he did, and would be sure to ask innumerable questions. + +And the girl--would she go with him? If not, what should he do with her? +And about her dress? Was it such as his "friend" could wear to one of Mrs. +Parker Bowman's exclusive dinners? To his memory, it seemed quiet and +refined. Perhaps that was all that was required for a woman who was +travelling. There it was again! But he had not said she was travelling, +nor that she had just returned from abroad, nor that she was a musician. +How could he answer such questions about an utter stranger, and yet how +could he not answer them, under the circumstances? + +And she wore no hat, nor cloak. That would be a strange way to arrive at a +dinner. How could she accept? He was settling his coat into place when a +queer little bulge attracted his attention to an inside pocket. +Impatiently he pulled out a pair of long white gloves. They were his +sister's, and he now remembered she had given them to him to carry the +night before, on the way home from a reception, she having removed them +because it was raining. He looked at them with a sudden inspiration. Of +course! Why had he not thought of that? He hurried into his sister's room +to make a selection of a few necessities for the emergency--only to have +his assurance desert him at the very threshold. The room was immaculate, +with no feminine finery lying about. Cornelia Dunham's maid was well +trained. The only article that seemed out of place was a hand-box on a +chair near the door. It bore the name of a fashionable milliner, and +across the lid was pencilled in Cornelia's large, angular hand, "To be +returned to Madame Dollard's." He caught up the box and strode over to the +closet. There was no time to lose, and this box doubtless contained a hat +of some kind. If it was to be returned, Cornelia would think it had been +called for, and no further inquiry would be made about the matter. He +could call at Madame's and settle the bill without his sister's knowledge. + +He poked back into the closet and discovered several wraps and evening +cloaks of more or less elaborate style, but the thought came to him that +perhaps one of these would be recognized as Cornelia's. He closed the door +hurriedly and went down to a large closet under the stairs, from which he +presently emerged with his mother's new black rain-coat. He patted his +coat-pocket to be sure he had the gloves, seized his hat, and hurried +back to the carriage, the hat-box in one hand and his mother's rain-coat +dragging behind him. His only anxiety was to get out before the butler saw +him. + +As he closed the door, there flashed over him, the sudden possibility that +the girl had gone. Well, perhaps that would be the best thing that could +happen and would save him a lot of trouble; yet to his amazement he found +that the thought filled him with a sense of disappointment. He did not +want her to be gone. He peered anxiously into the carriage, and was +relieved to find her still there, huddled into the shadow, her eyes +looking large and frightened. She was seized with a fit of trembling, and +it required all her strength to keep him from noticing it. She was half +afraid of the man, now that she had waited for him. Perhaps he was not a +gentleman, after all. + +[Illustration] + + + + +II + + +"I am afraid I have been a long time," he said apologetically, as he +closed the door of the carriage, after giving Mrs. Parker Bowman's address +to the driver. In the uncertain light of the distant arc-lamp, the girl +looked small and appealing. He felt a strong desire to lift her burdens +and carry them on his own broad shoulders. + +"I've brought some things that I thought might help," he said. "Would you +like to put on this coat? It may not be just what you would have selected, +but it was the best I could find that would not be recognized. The air is +growing chilly." + +He shook out the coat and threw it around her. + +"Oh, thank you," she murmured gratefully, slipping her arms into the +sleeves. + +"And this box has some kind of a hat, I hope," he went on. "I ought to +have looked, but there really wasn't time." He unknotted the strings and +produced a large picture hat with long black plumes. He was relieved to +find it black. While he untied the strings, there had been a growing +uneasiness lest the hat be one of those wild, queer combinations of colors +that Cornelia frequently purchased and called "artistic." + +The girl received the hat with a grateful relief that was entirely +satisfactory to the young man. + +"And now," said he, as he pulled out the gloves and laid them gravely in +her lap, "we're invited out to dinner." + +"Invited out to dinner!" gasped the girl. + +"Yes. It's rather a providential thing to have happened, I think. The +telephone was ringing as I opened the door, and Mrs. Parker Bowman, to +whose house I was invited, was asking for my sister to fill the place of +an absent guest. My sister is away, and I tried to beg off. I told her I +had accidentally met--I hope you will pardon me--I called you a friend." + +"Oh!" she said. "That was kind of you." + +"I said you were a stranger in town, and as I was your only acquaintance, +I felt that I should show you the courtesy of taking you to a hotel, and +assisting to get you off on the night train; and I asked her to excuse me, +as that would give her an even number. But it seems she had invited some +one especially to meet me, and was greatly distressed not to have her full +quota of guests, so she sent you a most cordial invitation to come to her +at once, promising to take dinner with you some time if you would help her +out now. Somehow, she gathered from my talk that you were travelling, had +just returned from abroad, and were temporarily separated from your +friends. She is also sure that you are musical, and means to ask you to +help her out in that way this evening. I told her I was not sure whether +you could be persuaded or not, and she mercifully refrained from asking +whether you sang or played. I tell you all this so that you will be +prepared for anything. Of course I didn't tell her all these things. I +merely kept still when she inferred them. Your name, by the way, is Miss +Remington--Mary Remington. She was greatly elated for a moment when she +thought you might be Carolyn Remington--whoever she may be. I suppose she +will speak of it. The name was the first one that my eye lit upon in the +telephone-book. If you object to bearing it for the evening, it is easy to +see how a name could be misunderstood over the 'phone. But perhaps you +would better give me a few pointers, for I've never tried acting a part, +and can't be sure how well I shall do it." + +The girl had been silent from astonishment while the man talked. + +"But I cannot possibly go there to dinner," she gasped, her hand going to +her throat again, as if to pluck away the delicate lace about it and give +more room, for breathing. "I must get away somewhere at once. I cannot +trouble you in this way. I have already imposed upon your kindness. With +this hat and coat and gloves, I shall be able to manage quite well, and I +thank you so much! I will return them to you as soon as possible." + +The cab began to go slowly, and Tryon Dunham noticed that another +carriage, just ahead of theirs, was stopping before Mrs. Bowman's house. +There was no time for halting decision. + +"My friend," he said earnestly, "I cannot leave you alone, and I do not +see a better way than for you to go in here with me for a little while, +till I am free to go with you. No one can follow you here, or suspect that +you had gone out to dinner at a stranger's house. Believe me, it is the +very safest thing you could do. This is the house. Will you go in with me? +If not, I must tell the driver to take us somewhere else." + +"But what will she think of me," she said in trepidation, "and how can I +do such a thing as to steal into a woman's house to a dinner in this way! +Besides, I am not dressed for a formal occasion." + +The carriage had stopped before the door now, and the driver was getting +down from his seat. + +"Indeed, she will think nothing about it," Dunham assured her, "except to +be glad that she has the right number of guests. Her dinners are +delightful affairs usually, and you have nothing to do but talk about +impersonal matters for a little while and be entertaining. She was most +insistent that you take no thought about the matter of dress. She said it +would be perfectly understood that you were travelling, and that the +invitation was unexpected. You can say that your trunk has not come, or +has gone on ahead. Will you come?" + +Then the driver opened the carriage door. + +In an instant the girl assumed the self-contained manner she had worn when +she had first spoken to him. She stepped quietly from the carriage, and +only answered in a low voice, "I suppose I'd better, if you wish it." + +Dunham paused for a moment to give the driver a direction about carrying +the great pasteboard box to his club. This idea had come as a sudden +inspiration. He had not thought of, the necessity of getting rid of that +box before. + +"If it becomes necessary, where shall I say you are going this evening?" +he asked in a low tone, as they turned to go up the steps. She summoned a +faint, flickering smile. + +"When people have been travelling abroad and are stopping over in this +city, they often go on to Washington, do they not?" she asked half shyly. + +He smiled in response, and noted with pleasure that the black hat was +intensely becoming. She was not ill-dressed for the part she had to play, +for the black silk rain-coat gave the touch of the traveller to her +costume. + +The door swung open before they could say another word, and the young man +remembered that he must introduce his new friend. As there was no further +opportunity to ask her about her name, he must trust to luck. + +The girl obeyed the motion of the servant and slipped up to the +dressing-room as if she were a frequent guest in the house, but it was in +some trepidation that Tryon Dunham removed his overcoat and arranged his +necktie. He had caught a passing glimpse of the assembled company, and +knew that Mr. Bowman was growing impatient for his dinner. His heart +almost failed him now that the girl was out of sight. What if she should +not prove to be accustomed to society, after all, and should show it? How +embarrassing that would be! He had seen her only in a half-light as yet. +How had he dared? + +But it was too late now, for she was coming from the dressing-room, and +Mrs. Bowman was approaching them with outstretched hands, and a welcome in +her face. + +"My dear Miss Remington, it is so good of you to help me out! I can see by +the first glance that it is going to be a privilege to know you. I can't +thank you enough for waiving formalities." + +"It was very lovely of you to ask me," said the girl, with perfect +composure, "a stranger----" + +"Don't speak of it, my dear. Mr. Dunham's friends are not strangers, I +assure you. Tryon, didn't you tell her how long we have known each other? +I shall feel quite hurt if you have never mentioned me to her. Now, come, +for my cook is in the last stages of despair over the dinner. Miss +Remington, how do you manage to look so fresh and lovely after a long sea +voyage? You must tell me your secret." + +The young man looked down at the girl and saw that her dress was in +perfect taste for the occasion, and also that she was very young and +beautiful. He was watching her with a kind of proprietary pride as she +moved forward to be introduced to the other guests, when he saw her sweep +one quick glance about the room, and for just an instant hesitate and draw +back. Her face grew white; then, with a supreme effort, she controlled her +feelings, and went through her part with perfect ease. + +When Judge Blackwell was introduced to the girl, he looked at her with +what seemed to Dunham to be more than a passing interest; but the keen +eyes were almost immediately transferred to his own face, and the young +man had no further time to watch his protégé, as dinner was immediately +announced. + +Miss Remington was seated next to Dunham at the table, with the Judge on +her other side. The young man was pleased with the arrangement, and sat +furtively studying the delicate tinting of her face, the dainty line of +cheek and chin and ear, the sweep of her dark lashes, and the ripple of +her brown hair, as he tried to converse easily with her, as an old friend +might. + +At length the Judge turned to the girl and said: + +"Miss Remington, you remind me strongly of a young woman who was in my +office this afternoon." + +The delicate color flickered out of the girl's face entirely, leaving even +her lips white, but she lifted her dark eyes bravely to the kindly blue +ones, and with sweet dignity baffled the questioned recognition in his +look. + +"Yes, you are so much like her that I would think you were--her sister +perhaps, if it were not for the name," Judge Blackwell went on. "She was a +most interesting and beautiful young lady." The old gentleman bestowed +upon the girl a look that was like a benediction. "Excuse me for speaking +of it, but her dress was something soft and beautiful, like yours, and +seemed to suit her face. I was deeply interested in her, although until +this afternoon she was a stranger. She came to me for a small matter of +business, and after it was attended to, and before she received the +papers, she disappeared! She had removed her hat and gloves, as she was +obliged to wait some time for certain matters to be looked up, and these +she left behind her. The hat is covered with long, handsome plumes of the +color of rich cream in coffee." + +Young Dunham glanced down at the cloth of the girl's gown, and was +startled to find the same rich creamy-coffee tint in its silky folds; yet +she did not show by so much as a flicker of an eyelash that she was +passing under the keenest inspection. She toyed with the salted almonds +beside her plate and held the heavy silver fork as firmly as if she were +talking about the discovery of the north pole. Her voice was steady and +natural as she asked, "How could she disappear?" + +"Well, that is more than I can understand. There were three doors in the +room where she sat, one opening into the inner office where I was at work, +and two opening into a hall, one on the side and the other on the end +opposite the freight elevator. We searched the entire building without +finding a clew, and I am deeply troubled." + +"Why should she want to disappear?" The question was asked coolly and with +as much interest as a stranger would be likely to show. + +"I cannot imagine," said the old man speculatively. "She apparently had +health and happiness, if one may judge from her appearance, and she came +to me of her own free will on a matter of business. Immediately after her +disappearance, two well-dressed men entered my office and inquired for +her. One had an intellectual head, but looked hard and cruel; the other +was very handsome--and disagreeable. When he could not find the young +lady, he laid claim to her hat, but I had it locked away. How could I know +that man was her friend or her relative? I intend to keep that hat until +the young woman herself claims it. I have not had anything happen that +has so upset me in years." + +"You don't think any harm has come to her?" questioned the girl. + +"I cannot think what harm could, and yet--it is very strange. She was +about the age of my dear daughter when she died, and I cannot get her out +of my mind. When you first appeared in the doorway you gave me quite a +start. I thought you were she. If I can find any trace of her, I mean to +investigate this matter. I have a feeling that that girl needs a friend." + +"I am sure she would be very happy to have a friend like you," said the +girl, and there was something in the eyes that were raised to his that +made the Judge's heart glow with admiration. + +"Thank you," said he warmly. "That is most kind of you. But perhaps she +has found a better friend by this time. I hope so." + +"Or one as kind," she suggested in a low voice. + +The conversation then became general, and the girl did not look up for +several seconds; but the young man on her right, who had not missed a word +of the previous tête-à-tête, could not give attention to the story Mrs. +Blackwell was telling, for pondering what he had heard. + +The ladies now left the table, and though this was the time that Dunham +had counted upon for an acquaintance with the great judge who might hold a +future career in his power, he could not but wish that he might follow +them to the other room. He felt entire confidence in his new friend's +ability to play her part to the end, but he wanted to watch her, to study +her and understand her, if perchance he might solve the mystery that was +ever growing more intense about her. + +As she left the room, his eyes followed her. His hostess, in passing +behind his chair, had whispered: + +"I don't wonder you feel so about her. She is lovely. But please don't +begrudge her to us for a few minutes. I promise you that you shall have +your innings afterwards." + +Then, without any warning and utterly against his will, this young man of +much experience and self-control blushed furiously, and was glad enough +when the door closed behind Mrs. Bowman. + +Miss Remington walked into the drawing-room with a steady step, but with a +rapidly beating heart. Her real ordeal had now come. She cast about in her +mind for subjects of conversation which should forestall unsafe topics, +and intuitively sought the protection of the Judge's wife. But immediately +she saw her hostess making straight for the little Chippendale chair +beside her. + +"My dear, it is too lovely," she began. "So opportune! Do tell me how long +you have known Tryon?" + +The girl caught her breath and gathered her wits together. She looked up +shyly into the pleasantly curious eyes of Mrs. Bowman, and a faint gleam +of mischief came into her face. + +"Why----" Her hesitation seemed only natural, and Mrs. Bowman decided that +there must be something very special between these two. "Why, not so very +long, Mrs. Bowman--not as long as you have known him." She finished with a +smile which Mrs. Bowman decided was charming. + +"Oh, you sly child!" she exclaimed, playfully tapping the round cheek with +her fan. "Did you meet him when he was abroad this summer?" + +"Oh, no, indeed!" said the girl, laughing now in spite of herself. "Oh, +no; it was after his return." + +"Then it must have been in the Adirondacks," went on the determined +interlocutor. "Were you at----" But the girl interrupted her. She could +not afford to discuss the Adirondacks, and the sight of the grand piano +across the room had given her an idea. + +"Mr. Dunham told me that you would like me to play something for you, as +your musician friend has failed you. I shall be very glad to, if it will +help you any. What do you care for? Something serious or something gay? +Are you fond of Chopin, or Beethoven, or something more modern?" + +Scenting a possible musical prodigy, and desiring most earnestly to give +her guests a treat, Mrs. Bowman exclaimed in enthusiasm: + +"Oh, how lovely of you! I hardly dared to ask, as Tryon was uncertain +whether you would be willing. Suppose you give us something serious now, +and later, when the men come in, we'll have the gay music. Make your own +choice, though I'm very fond of Chopin, of course." + +Without another word, the girl moved quietly over to the piano and took +her seat. For just a moment her fingers wandered caressingly over the +keys, as if they were old friends and she were having an understanding +with them, then she began a Chopin Nocturne. Her touch was firm and +velvety, and she brought out a bell-like tone from the instrument that +made the little company of women realize that the player was mistress of +her art. Her graceful figure and lovely head, with its simple ripples and +waves of hair, were more noticeable than ever as she sat there, +controlling the exquisite harmonies. Even Mrs. Blackwell stopped fanning +and looked interested. Then she whispered to Mrs. Bowman: "A very sweet +young girl. That's a pretty piece she's playing." Mrs. Blackwell was sweet +and commonplace and old-fashioned. + +Mrs. Parker Bowman sat up with a pink glow in her cheeks and a light in +her eyes. She began to plan how she might keep this acquisition and +exploit her among her friends. It was her delight to bring out new +features in her entertainments. + +"We shall simply keep you playing until you drop from weariness," she +announced ecstatically, when the last wailing, sobbing, soothing chord had +died away; and the other ladies murmured, "How delightful!" and whispered +their approval. + +The girl smiled and rippled into a Chopin Valse, under cover of which +those who cared to could talk in low tones. Afterwards the musician dashed +into the brilliant movement of a Beethoven Sonata. + +It was just as she was beginning Rubinstein's exquisite tone portrait, +Kamennoi-Ostrow, that the gentlemen came in. + +Tryon Dunham had had his much desired talk with the famous judge, but it +had not been about law. + +They had been drawn together by mutual consent, each discovering that the +other was watching the young stranger as she left the dining-room. + +"She is charming," said the old man, smiling into the face of the younger. +"Is she an intimate friend?" + +"I--I hope so," stammered Dunham. "That is, I should like to have her +consider me so." + +"Ah!" said the old man, looking deep into the other's eyes with a kindly +smile, as if he were recalling pleasant experiences of his own. "You are a +fortunate fellow. I hope you may succeed in making her think so. Do you +know, she interests me more than most young women, and in some way I +cannot disconnect her with an occurrence which happened in my office this +afternoon." + +The young man showed a deep interest in the matter, and the Judge told the +story again, this time more in detail. + +They drew a little apart from the rest of the men. The host, who had been +warned by his wife to give young Dunham an opportunity to talk with the +Judge, saw that her plans were succeeding admirably. + +When the music began in the other room the Judge paused a moment to +listen, and then went on with his story. + +"There is a freight elevator just opposite that left door of my office, +and somehow I cannot but think it had something to do with the girl's +disappearance, although the door was closed and the elevator was down on +the cellar floor all the time, as nearly as I can find out." + +The young man asked eager questions, feeling in his heart that the story +might in some way explain the mystery of the young woman in the other +room. + +"Suppose you stop in the office to-morrow," said the Judge. "Perhaps +you'll get a glimpse of her, and then bear me out in the statement that +she's like your friend. By the way, who is making such exquisite music? +Suppose we go and investigate. Mr. Bowman, will you excuse us if we follow +the ladies? We are anxious to hear the music at closer range." + +The other men rose and followed. + +The girl did not pause or look up as they came in, but played on, while +the company listened with the most rapt and wondering look. She was +playing with an _empressement_ which could not fail to command attention. + +Tryon Dunham, standing just behind the Judge, was transfixed with +amazement. That this delicate girl could bring forth such an entrancing +volume of sound from the instrument was a great surprise. That she was so +exquisite an artist filled him with a kind of intoxicating elation--it was +as though she belonged to him. + +At last she played Liszt's brilliant Hungarian Rhapsody, her slender hands +taking the tremendous chords and octave runs with a precision and rapidity +that seemed inspired. The final crash came in a shower of liquid jewels of +sound, and then she turned to look at him, her one friend in that company +of strangers. + +He could see that she had been playing under a heavy strain. Her face +looked weary and flushed, and her eyes were brilliant with feverish +excitement. Those eyes seemed to be pleading with him now to set her free +from the kindly scrutiny of these good-hearted, curious strangers. They +gathered about her in delight, pouring their questions and praises upon +her. + +"Where did you study? With some great master, I am sure. Tell us all about +yourself. We are dying to know, and will sit at your feet with great +delight while you discourse." + +Tryon Dunham interrupted these disquieting questions, by drawing his watch +from his pocket with apparent hasty remembrance, and giving a well feigned +exclamation of dismay. + +"I'm sorry, Mrs. Bowman; it is too bad to interrupt this delightful +evening," he apologized; "but I'm afraid if Miss Remington feels that she +must take the next train, we shall have to make all possible speed. Miss +Remington, can you get your wraps on in three minutes? Our carriage is +probably at the door now." + +With a look of relief, yet keeping up her part of dismay over the lateness +of the hour, the girl sprang to her feet, and hurried away to get her +wraps, in spite of her protesting hostess. Mrs. Bowman was held at bay +with sweet expressions of gratitude for the pleasant entertainment. The +great black picture hat was settled becomingly on the small head, the +black cloak thrown over her gown, and the gloves fitted on hurriedly to +hide the fact that they were too large. + +"And whom did you say you studied with?" asked the keen hostess, +determined to be able to tell how great a guest she had harbored for the +evening. + +"Oh, is Mr. Dunham calling me, Mrs. Bowman? You will excuse me for +hurrying off, won't you? And it has been so lovely of you to ask +me--perfectly delightful to find friends this way when I was a stranger." + +She hurried toward the stairway and down the broad steps, and the hostess +had no choice but to follow her. + +The other guests crowded out into the hall to bid them good-by and to tell +the girl how much they had enjoyed the music. Mrs. Blackwell insisted upon +kissing the smooth cheek of the young musician, and whispered in her ear: +"You play very nicely, my dear. I should like to hear you again some +time." The kindness in her tone almost brought a rush of tears to the eyes +of the weary, anxious girl. + +[Illustration] + + + + +III + + +Dunham hurried her off amid the goodbyes of the company, and in a moment +more they were shut into the semi-darkness of the four-wheeler and whirled +from the too hospitable door. + +As soon as the door was shut, the girl began to tremble. + +"Oh, we ought not to have done that!" she exclaimed with a shiver of +recollection. "They were so very kind. It was dreadful to impose upon +them. But--you were not to blame. It was my fault. It was very kind of +you." + +"We did not impose upon them!" he exclaimed peremptorily. "You are my +friend, and that was all that we claimed. For the rest, you have certainly +made good. Your wonderful music! How I wish I might hear more of it some +time!" + +The carriage paused to let a trolley pass, and a strong arc-light beat in +upon the two. A passing stranger peered curiously at them, and the girl +shrank back in fear. It was momentary, but the minds of the two were +brought back to the immediate necessities of the occasion. + +"Now, what may I do for you?" asked Dunham in a quiet, business-like tone, +as if it were his privilege and right to do all that was to be done. "Have +you thought where you would like to go?" + +"I have not been able to do much thinking. It required all my wits to act +with the present. But I know that I must not be any further trouble to +you. You have done more already than any one could expect. If you can have +the carriage stop in some quiet, out-of-the-way street where I shall not +be noticed, I will get out and relieve you. If I hadn't been so frightened +at first, I should have had more sense than to burden you this way. I hope +some day I shall be able to repay your kindness, though I fear it is too +great ever to repay." + +"Please don't talk in that way," said he protestingly. "It has been a +pleasure to do the little that I have done, and you have more than repaid +it by the delight you have given me and my friends. I could not think of +leaving you until you are out of your trouble, and if you will only give +me a little hint of how to help, I will do my utmost for you. Are you +quite sure you were followed? Don't you think you could trust me enough to +tell me a little more about the matter?" + +She shuddered visibly. + +"Forgive me," he murmured. "I see it distresses you. Of course it is +unpleasant to confide in an utter stranger. I will not ask you to tell me. +I will try to think for you. Suppose we go to the station and get you a +ticket to somewhere. Have you any preference? You can trust me not to tell +any one where you have gone, can you not?" There was a kind rebuke in his +tone, and her eyes, as she lifted them to his face, were full of tears. + +"Oh, I do trust you!" she cried, distressed "You must not think that, +but--you do not understand." + +"Forgive me," he said again, holding out his hand in appeal. She laid her +little gloved hand in his for an instant. + +"You are so kind!" she murmured, as if it were the only thing she could +think of. Then she added suddenly: + +"But I cannot buy a ticket. I have no money with me, and I----" + +"Don't think of that for an instant. I will gladly supply your need. A +little loan should not distress you." + +"But I do not know when I shall be able to repay it," she faltered, +"unless"--she hastily drew off her glove and slipped a glittering ring +from her finger--"unless you will let this pay for it. I do not like to +trouble you so, but the stone is worth a good deal." + +"Indeed," he protested, "I couldn't think of taking your ring. Let me do +this. It is such a small thing. I shall never miss it. Let it rest until +you are out of your trouble, at least." + +"Please!" she insisted, holding out the ring. "I shall get right out of +this carriage unless you do." + +"But perhaps some one gave you the ring, and you are attached to it." + +"My father," she answered briefly, "and he would want me to use it this +way." She pressed the ring into his hand almost impatiently. + +His fingers closed over the jewel impulsively. Somehow, it thrilled him to +hold the little thing, yet warm from her fingers. He had forgotten that +she was a stranger. His mind was filled with the thought of how best to +help her. + +"I will keep it until you want it again," he said kindly. + +"You need not do that, for I shall not claim it," she declared. "You are +at liberty to sell it. I know it is worth a good deal." + +"I shall certainly keep it until I am sure you do not want it yourself," +he repeated. "Now let us talk about this journey of yours. We are almost +at the station. Have you any preference as to where you go? Have you +friends to whom you could go?" + +She shook her head. + +"There are trains to New York every hour almost." + +"Oh, no!" she gasped in a frightened tone. + +"And to Washington often." + +"I should rather not go to Washington," she breathed again. + +"Pittsburg, Chicago?" he hazarded. + +"Chicago will do," she asserted with relief. Then the carriage stopped +before the great station, ablaze with light and throbbing with life. +Policemen strolled about, and trolley-cars twinkled in every direction. +The girl shrank back into the shadows of the carriage for an instant, as +if she feared to come out from the sheltering darkness. Her escort half +defined her hesitation. + +"Don't feel nervous," he said in a low tone. "I will see that no one harms +you. Just walk into the station as if you were my friend. You are, you +know, a friend of long standing, for we have been to a dinner together. I +might be escorting you home from a concert. No one will notice us. +Besides, that hat and coat are disguise enough." + +He hurried her through the station and up to the ladies' waiting-room, +where he found a quiet corner and a large rocking-chair, in which he +placed her so that she might look out of the great window upon the +panorama of the evening street, and yet be thoroughly screened from all +intruding glances by the big leather and brass screen of the "ladies' +boot-black." + +He was gone fifteen minutes, during which the girl sat quietly in her +chair, yet alert, every nerve strained. At any moment the mass of faces +she was watching might reveal one whom she dreaded to see, or a detective +might place his hand upon her shoulder with a quiet "Come with me." + +When Dunham came back, the nervous start she gave showed him how tense and +anxious had been her mind. He studied her lovely face under the great hat, +and noted the dark shadows beneath her eyes. He felt that he must do +something to relieve her. It was unbearable to him that this young girl +should be adrift, friendless, and apparently a victim to some terrible +fear. + +Drawing up a chair beside her, he began talking about her ticket. + +"You must remember I was utterly at your mercy," she smiled sadly. "I +simply had to let you help me." + +"I should be glad to pay double for the pleasure you have given me in +allowing me to help you," he said. + +Just at that moment a boy in a blue uniform planted a sole-leather +suit-case at his feet, and exclaimed: "Here you are, Mr. Dunham. Had a +fierce time findin' you. Thought you said you would be by the elevator +door." + +"So I did," confessed the young man. "I didn't think you had time to get +down yet. Well, you found me anyhow, Harkness." + +The boy took the silver given him, touched his hat, and sauntered off. + +"You see," explained Dunham, "it wasn't exactly the thing for you to be +travelling without a bit of baggage. I thought it might help them to trace +you if you really were being followed. So I took the liberty of 'phoning +over to the club-house and telling the boy to bring down the suit-case +that I left there yesterday. I don't exactly know what's in it. I had the +man pack it and send it down to me, thinking I might stay all night at +the club. Then I went home, after all, and forgot to take it along. It +probably hasn't anything very appropriate for a lady's costume, but there +may be a hair-brush and some soap and handkerchiefs. And, anyhow, if +you'll accept it, it'll be something for you to hitch on to. One feels a +little lost even for one night without a rag one can call one's own except +a Pullman towel. I thought it might give you the appearance of a regular +traveller, you know, and not a runaway." + +He tried to make her laugh about it, but her face was deeply serious as +she looked up at him. + +"I think this is the kindest and most thoughtful thing you have done yet," +she said. "I don't see how I can ever, ever thank you!" + +"Don't try," he returned gaily. "There's your train being called. We'd +better go right out and make you comfortable. You are beginning to be very +tired." + +She did not deny it, but rose to follow him, scanning the waiting-room +with one quick, frightened look. An obsequious porter at the gate seized +the suit-case and led them in state to the Pullman. + +The girl found herself established in the little drawing-room compartment, +and her eyes gave him thanks again. She knew the seclusion and the +opportunity to lock the compartment door would give her relief from the +constant fear that an unwelcome face might at any moment appear beside +her. + +"The conductor on this train is an old acquaintance of mine," he explained +as that official came through the car. "I have taken this trip with him a +number of times. Just sit down a minute. I am going to ask him to look out +for you and see that no one annoys you." + +The burly official looked grimly over his glasses at the sweet face under +the big black hat, while Tryon Dunham explained, "She's a friend of mine. +I hope you'll be good to her." In answer, he nodded grim assent with a +smileless alacrity which was nevertheless satisfactory and comforting. +Then the young man walked through the train to interview the porter and +the newsboy, and in every way to arrange for a pleasant journey for one +who three hours before had been unknown to him. As he went, he reflected +that he would rather enjoy being conductor himself just for that night. He +felt a strange reluctance toward giving up the oversight of the young +woman whose destiny for a few brief hours had been thrust upon him, and +who was about to pass out of his world again. + +When he returned to her he found the shades closely drawn and the girl +sitting in the sheltered corner of the section, where she could not be +seen from the aisle, but where she could watch in the mirror the approach +of any one. She welcomed him with a smile, but instantly urged him to +leave the train, lest he be carried away. + +He laughed at her fears, and told her there was plenty of time. Even after +the train had given its preliminary shudder, he lingered to tell her that +she must be sure to let him know by telegraph if she needed any further +help; and at last swung himself from the platform after the train was in +full motion. + +Immediately he remembered that he had not given her any money. How could +he have forgotten? And there was the North Side Station yet to be passed +before she would be out of danger. Why had he not remained on the train +until she was past that stop, and then returned on the next train from the +little flag-station a few miles above, where he could have gotten the +conductor to slow up for him? The swiftly moving cars asked the question +as the long train flew by him. The last car was almost past when he made a +daring dash and flung himself headlong upon the platform, to the horror of +several trainmen who stood on the adjoining tracks. + +"Gee!" said one, shaking his head. "What does that dude think he is made +of, any way? Like to got his head busted that time, fer sure." + +The brakeman, coming out of the car door with his lantern, dragged him to +his feet, brushed him off, and scolded him vigorously. The young man +hurried through the car, oblivious of the eloquent harangue, happy only to +feel the floor jolting beneath his feet and to know that he was safe on +board. + +He found the girl sitting where he had left her, only she had flung up the +shade of the window next her, and was gazing with wide, frightened eyes +into the fast flying darkness. He touched her gently on the shoulder, and +she turned with a cry. + +"Oh, I thought you had fallen under the train!" she said in an awed voice. +"It was going so fast! But you did not get off, after all, did you? Now, +what can you do? It is too bad, and all on my account." + +"Yes, I got off," he said doggedly, sitting down opposite her and pulling +his tie straight. "I got off, but it wasn't altogether satisfactory, and +so I got on again. There wasn't much time for getting on gracefully, but +you'll have to excuse it. The fact is, I couldn't bear to leave you alone +just yet. I couldn't rest until I knew you had passed the North Side +Station. Besides, I had forgotten to give you any money." + +"Oh, but you mustn't!" she protested, her eyes eloquent with feeling. + +"Please don't say that," he went on eagerly. "I can get off later and take +the down train, you know. Really, the fact is, I couldn't let you go +right out of existence this way without knowing more about you." + +"Oh!" she gasped, turning a little white about the lips, and drawing +closer into her corner. + +"Don't feel that way," he said. "I'm not going to bother you. You couldn't +think that of me, surely. But isn't it only fair that you should show me a +little consideration? Just give me an address, or something, where I could +let you know if I heard of anything that concerned you. Of course it isn't +likely I shall, but it seems to me you might at least let me know you are +safe." + +"I will promise you that," she said earnestly. "You know I'm going to send +you back these things." She touched the cloak and the hat. "You might need +them to keep you from having to explain their absence," she reminded him. + +The moments fairly flew. They passed the North Side Station, and were +nearing the flag station. After that there would be no more stops until +past midnight. The young man knew he must get off. + +"I have almost a mind to go on to Chicago and see that you are safely +located," he said with sudden daring. "It seems too terrible to set you +adrift in the world this way." + +"Indeed, you must not," said the young woman, with a gentle dignity. "Have +you stopped to think what people--what your mother, for instance--would +think of me if she were ever to know I had permitted such a thing? You +know you must not. Please don't speak of it again." + +"I cannot help feeling that I ought to take care of you," he said, but +half convinced. + +"But I cannot permit it," she said firmly, lifting her trustful eyes to +smile at him. + +"Will you promise to let me know if you need anything?" + +"No, I'm afraid I cannot promise even that," she answered, "because, while +you have been a true friend to me, the immediate and awful necessity is, I +hope, past." + +"You will at least take this," he said, drawing from his pocket an +inconspicuous purse of beautiful leather, and putting into it all the +money his pockets contained. "I saw you had no pocketbook," he went on, +"and I ventured to get this one in the drug-store below the station. Will +you accept it from me? I have your ring, you know, and when you take the +ring back you may, if you wish, return the purse. I wish it were a better +one, but it was the most decent one they had. You will need it to carry +your ticket. And I have put in the change. It would not do for you to be +entirely without money. I'm sorry it isn't more. There are only nine +dollars and seventy-five cents left. Do you think that will see you +through? If there had been any place down-town here where I could cash a +check at this time of night, I should have made it more." + +He looked at her anxiously as he handed over the pocketbook. It seemed a +ridiculously small sum with which to begin a journey alone, especially for +a young woman of her apparent refinement. On the other hand, his friends +would probably say he was a fool for having hazarded so much as he had +upon an unknown woman, who was perhaps an adventuress. However, he had +thrown discretion to the winds, and was undeniably interested in his new +acquaintance. + +"How thoughtful you are!" said the girl. "It would have been most +embarrassing not to have a place to put my ticket, nor any money. This +seems a fortune after being penniless"--she smiled ruefully. "Are you sure +you have not reduced yourself to that condition? Have you saved enough to +carry you home?" + +"Oh, I have my mileage book with me," he said happily. It pleased him +absurdly that she had not declined the pocketbook. + +"Thank you so much. I shall return the price of the ticket and this money +as soon as possible," said the girl earnestly. + +"You must not think of that," he protested. "You know I have your ring. +That is far more valuable than anything I have given you." + +"Oh, but you said you were going to keep the ring, so that will not pay +for this, I want to be sure that you lose nothing." + +He suddenly became aware that the train was whistling and that the +conductor was motioning him to go. + +"But you have not told me your name," he cried in dismay. + +"You have named me," she answered, smiling. "I am Mary Remington." + +"But that is not your real name." + +"You may call me Mary if you like," she said. "Now go, please, quick! I'm +afraid you'll get hurt." + +"You will remember that I am your friend?" + +"Yes, thank you. Hurry, please!" + +The train paused long enough for him to step in front of her window and +wave his hat in salute. Then she passed on into the night, and only two +twinkling lights, like diminishing red berries, marked the progress of the +train until it disappeared in the cut. Nothing was left but the hollow +echoes of its going, which the hills gave back. + +[Illustration] + + + + +IV + + +Dunham listened as long as his ear could catch the sound, then a strange +desolation settled down upon him. How was it that a few short hours ago he +had known nothing, cared nothing, about this stranger? And now her going +had left things blank enough! It was foolish, of course--just highly +wrought nerves over this most extraordinary occurrence. Life had +heretofore run in such smooth, conventional grooves as to have been almost +prosaic; and now to be suddenly plunged into romance and mystery +unbalanced him for the time. To-morrow, probably, he would again be able +to look sane living in the face, and perhaps call himself a fool for his +most unusual interest in this chance acquaintance; but just at this moment +when he had parted from her, when the memory of her lovely face and pure +eyes lingered with him, when her bravery and fear were both so fresh in +his mind, and the very sound of her music was still in his brain, he +simply could not without a pang turn back again to life which contained no +solution of her mystery, no hope of another vision of her face. + +The little station behind him was closed, though a light over the desk +shone brightly through its front window and the telegraph sounder was +clicking busily. The operator had gone over the hill with an important +telegram, leaving the station door locked. The platform was windy and +cheerless, with a view of a murky swamp, and the sound of deep-throated +inhabitants croaking out a late fall concert. A rusty-throated cricket in +a crack of the platform wailed a plaintive note now and then, and off +beyond the swamp, in the edge of the wood, a screech-owl hooted. + +Turning impatiently from the darkness, Dunham sought the bright window, in +front of which lay a newspaper. He could read the large headlines of a +column--no more, for the paper was upside down, and a bunch of bill-heads +lay partly across it. It read: + + MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE OF YOUNG AND PRETTY WOMAN + +His heart stood still, and then went thudding on in dull, horrid blows. +Vainly he tried to read further. He followed every visible word of that +paper to discover its date and origin, but those miserable bill-heads +frustrated his effort. He felt like dashing his hand through the glass, +but reflected that the act might result in his being locked up in some +miserable country jail. He tried the window and gave the door another +vicious shake, but all to no purpose. Finally he turned on his heel and +walked up and down for an hour, tramping the length of the shaky platform, +back and forth, till the train rumbled up. As he took his seat in the car +he saw the belated agent come running up the platform with a lighted +lantern on his arm, and a package of letters, which he handed to the +brakeman, but there was not time to beg the newspaper from him. Dunham's +indignant mind continued to dwell upon the headlines, to the annoying +accompaniment of screech-owl and frog and cricket. He resented the +adjective "pretty." Why should any reporter dare to apply that word to a +sweet and lovely woman? It seemed so superficial, so belittling, and--but +then, of course, this headline did not apply to his new friend. It was +some other poor creature, some one to whom perhaps the word "pretty" +really applied; some one who was not really beautiful, only pretty. + +At the first stop a man in front got out, leaving a newspaper in the seat. +With eager hands, Dunham leaned forward and grasped it, searching its +columns in vain for the tantalizing headlines. But there were others +equally arrestive. This paper announced the mysterious disappearance of a +young actress who was suspected of poisoning her husband. When seen last, +she was boarding a train en route to Washington. She had not arrived +there, however, so far as could be discovered. It was supposed that she +was lingering in the vicinity of Philadelphia or Baltimore. There were +added a few incriminating details concerning her relationship with her +dead husband, and a brief sketch of her sensational life. The paragraph +closed with the statement that she was an accomplished musician. + +The young man frowned and, opening his window, flung the scandalous sheet +to the breeze. He determined to forget what he had read, yet the lines +kept coming before his eyes. + +When he reached the city he went to the news-stand in the station, where +was an agent who knew him, and procured a copy of every paper on sale. +Then, instead of hurrying home, he found a seat in a secluded corner and +proceeded to examine his purchases. + +In large letters on the front page of a New York paper blazed: + + HOUSE ROBBED OF JEWELS WORTH TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS BY BEAUTIFUL + YOUNG ADVENTURESS MASQUERADING AS A PARLOR MAID + +He ran his eye down the column and gathered that she was still at large, +though the entire police force of New York was on her track. He shivered +at the thought, and began to feel sympathy for all wrong-doers and truants +from the law. It was horrible to have detectives out everywhere watching +for beautiful young women, just when this one in whom his interest +centred was trying to escape from something. + +He turned to another paper, only to be met by the words: + + ESCAPE OF FAIR LUNATIC + +and underneath: + + Prison walls could not confine Miss Nancy Lee, who last week + threw a lighted lamp at her mother, setting fire to the house, + and then attempted suicide. The young woman seems to have + recovered her senses, and professes to know nothing of what + happened, but the physicians say she is liable to another attack + of insanity, and deem it safe to keep her confined. She escaped + during the night, leaving no clew to her whereabouts. How she + managed to get open the window through which she left the asylum + is still a mystery. + +In disgust he flung the paper from him and took up another. + + FOUL PLAY SUSPECTED! BEAUTIFUL YOUNG HEIRESS MISSING + +His soul turned sick within him. He looked up and saw a little procession +of late revellers rushing out to the last suburban train, the girls +leaving a trail of orris perfume and a vision of dainty opera cloaks. One +of the men was a city friend of his. Dunham half envied him his +unperturbed mind. To be sure, he would not get back to the city till three +in the morning, but he would have no visions of robberies and fair +lunatics and hard pressed maidens unjustly pursued, to mar his rest. + +Dunham buttoned his coat and turned up his collar as he started out into +the street, for the night had turned cold, and his nerves made him chilly. +As he walked, the blood began to race more healthily in his veins, and the +horrors of the evening papers were dispelled. In their place came pleasant +memories of the evening at Mrs. Bowman's, of the music, and of their ride +and talk together. In his heart a hope began to rise that her dark days +would pass, and that he might find her again and know her better. + +His brief night's sleep was cut short by a sharp knock at his door the +next morning. He awoke with a confused idea of being on a sleeping-car, +and wondered if he had plenty of time to dress, but his sister's voice +quickly dispelled the illusion. + +"Tryon, aren't you almost ready to come down to breakfast? Do hurry, +please. I've something awfully important to consult you about." + +His sister's tone told him there was need for haste if he would keep in +her good graces, so he made a hurried toilet and went down, to find his +household in a state of subdued excitement. + +"I'm just as worried as I can be," declared his mother. "I want to consult +you, Tryon. I have put such implicit confidence in Norah, and I cannot +bear to accuse her unjustly, but I have missed a number of little things +lately. There was my gold link bag----" + +"Mother, you know you said you were sure you left that at the Century +Club." + +"Don't interrupt, Cornelia. Of course it is possible I left it at the club +rooms, but I begin to think now I didn't have it with me at all. Then +there is my opal ring. To be sure, it isn't worth a great deal, but one +who will take little things will take large ones." + +"What's the matter, Mother? Norah been appropriating property not her +own?" + +"I'm very much afraid she has, Tryon. What would you do about it? It is so +unpleasant to charge a person with stealing. It is such a vulgar thing to +steal. Somehow I thought Norah was more refined." + +"Why, I suppose there's nothing to do but just charge her with it, is +there? Are you quite sure it is gone? What is it, any way? A ring, did you +say?" + +"No, it's a hat," said Cornelia shortly. "A sixty-dollar hat. I wish I'd +kept it now, and then she wouldn't have dared. It had two beautiful willow +ostrich plumes on it, but mother didn't think it was becoming. She wanted +some color about it instead of all black. I left it in my room, and +charged Norah to see that the man got it when he called, and now the man +comes and says he wants the hat, and it is _gone_! Norah insists that when +she last saw it, it was in my room. But of course that's absurd, for there +was nobody else to take it but Thompson, and he's been in the family for +so long." + +"Nonsense!" said her brother sharply, dropping his fruit knife in his +plate with a rattle that made the young woman jump. "Cornelia, I'm +ashamed of you, thinking that poor, innocent girl has stolen your hat. +Why, she wouldn't steal a pin, I am sure. You can tell she's honest by +looking into her eyes. Girls with blue eyes like that don't lie and +steal." + +"Really!" Cornelia remarked haughtily. "You seem to know a great deal +about her eyes. You may feel differently when I find the hat in her +possession." + +"Cornelia," interrupted Tryon, quite beside himself, "don't think of such +a thing as speaking to that poor girl about that hat. I know she hasn't +stolen it. The hat will probably be found, and then how will you feel?" + +"But I tell you the hat cannot be found!" said the exasperated sister. +"And I shall just have to pay for a hat that I can never wear." + +"Mother, I appeal to you," said the son earnestly. "Don't allow Cornelia +to speak of the hat to the girl. I wouldn't have such an injustice done in +our house. The hat will turn up soon if you just go about the matter +calmly. You'll find it quite naturally and unexpectedly, perhaps. Any way, +if you don't, I'll pay for the hat, rather than have the girl suspected." + +"But, Tryon," protested his mother, "if she isn't honest, you know we +wouldn't want her about." + +"Honest, Mother? She's as honest as the day is long. I am certain of +that." + +The mother rose reluctantly. + +"Well, we might let it go another day," she consented. Then, looking up at +the sky, she added, "I wonder if it is going to rain. I have a Reciprocity +meeting on for to-day, and I'm a delegate to some little unheard-of place. +It usually does rain when one goes into the country, I've noticed." + +She went into the hall, and presently returned with a distressed look upon +her face. + +"Tryon, I'm afraid you're wrong," she said. "Now my rain-coat is missing. +My new rain-coat! I hung it up in the hall-closet with my own hands, after +it came from the store. I really think something ought to be done!" + +"There! I hope you see!" said Cornelia severely. "I think it's high time +something was done. I shall 'phone for a detective at once!" + +"Cornelia, you'll do nothing of the kind," her brother protested, now +thoroughly aroused. "I'll agree to pay for the hat and the rain-coat if +they are not forthcoming before a fortnight passes, but you simply shall +not ruin that poor girl's reputation. I insist, Mother, that you put a +stop to such rash proceedings. I'll make myself personally responsible for +that girl's honesty." + +"Well, of course, Tryon, if you wish it----" said his mother, with anxious +hesitation. + +"I certainly do wish it, Mother. I shall take it as personal if anything +is done in this matter without consulting me. Remember, Cornelia, I will +not have any trifling. A girl's reputation is certainly worth more than +several hats and rain-coats, and I _know_ she has not taken them." + +He walked from the dining-room and from the house in angry dignity, to the +astonishment of his mother and sister, to whom he was usually courtesy +itself. Consulting him about household matters was as a rule merely a +form, for he almost never interfered. The two women looked at each other +in startled bewilderment. + +"Mother," said Cornelia, "you don't suppose he can have fallen in love +with Norah, do you? Why, she's Irish and freckled! And Tryon has always +been so fastidious!" + +"Cornelia! How dare you suggest such a thing? Tryon is a _Dunham_. +Whatever else a Dunham may or may not do, he never does anything low or +unrefined." + +The small, prim, stylish mother looked quite regal in her aristocratic +rage. + +"But, Mother, one reads such dreadful things in the papers now. Of course +Tryon would never _marry_ any one like that, but----" + +"Cornelia!"--her mother's voice had almost reached a patrician scream--"I +forbid you to mention the subject again. I cannot think where you learned +to voice such thoughts." + +"Well, my goodness, Mother, I don't mean anything, only I do wish I had +my hat. I always did like all black. I can't imagine what ails Try, if it +isn't that." + +Tryon Dunham took his way to his office much perturbed in mind. +Perplexities seemed to be thickening about him. With the dawn of the +morning had come that sterner common-sense which told him he was a fool +for having taken up with a strange young woman on the street, who was so +evidently flying from justice. He had deceived not only his intimate +friends by palming her off as a fit companion for them, but his mother and +sister. He had practically stolen their garments, and had squandered more +than fifty dollars of his own money. And what had he to show for all this? +The memory of a sweet face, the lingering beauty of the name "Mary" when +she bade him good-by, and a diamond ring. The cool morning light presented +the view that the ring was probably valueless, and that he was a fool. + +Ah, the ring! A sudden warm thrill shot through him, and his hand searched +his vest pocket, where he had hastily put the jewel before leaving his +room. That was something tangible. He could at least know what it was +worth, and so make sure once for all whether he had been deceived. No, +that would not be fair either, for her father might have made her think it +was valuable, or he might even have been taken in himself, if he were not +a judge of jewels. + +Dunham examined it as he walked down the street, too perplexed with his +own tumultuous thoughts to remember his usual trolley. He slipped the ring +on his finger and let it catch the morning sunlight, now shining broad and +clear in spite of the hovering rain-clouds in the distance. And gloriously +did the sun illumine the diamond, burrowing into the great depths of its +clear white heart, and causing it to break into a million fires of glory, +flashing and glancing until it fairly dazzled him. The stone seemed to be +of unusual beauty and purity, but he would step into the diamond shop as +he passed and make sure. He had a friend there who could tell him all +about it. His step quickened, and he covered the distance in a short +time. + +After the morning greeting, he handed over his ring. + +"This belongs to a friend of mine," he said, trying to look unconcerned. +"I should like to know if the stone is genuine, and about what it is +worth." + +His friend took the ring and retired behind a curious little instrument +for the eye, presently emerging with a respectful look upon his face. + +"Your friend is fortunate to have such a beautiful stone. It is unusually +clear and white, and exquisitely cut. I should say it was worth at +least"--he paused and then named a sum which startled Dunham, even +accustomed as he was to counting values in high figures. He took the jewel +back with a kind of awe. Where had his mysterious lady acquired this +wondrous bauble which she had tossed to him for a trifle? In a tumult of +feeling, he went on to his office more perplexed than ever. Suspicions of +all sorts crowded thickly into his mind, but for every thought that +shadowed the fair reputation of the lady, there came into his mind her +clear eyes and cast out all doubts. Finally, after a bad hour of trying +to work, he slipped the ring on his little finger, determined to wear it +and thus prove to himself his belief in her, at least until he had +absolute proof against her. Then he took up his hat and went out, deciding +to accept Judge Blackwell's invitation to visit his office. He found a +cordial reception, and the Judge talked business in a most satisfactory +manner. His proposals bade fair to bring about some of the dearest wishes +of the young man's heart, and yet as he left the building he was thinking +more about the mysterious stranger who had disappeared from the Judge's +office the day before than about the wonderful good luck that had come to +him in a business way. + +They had not talked much about her. The Judge had brought out her hat--a +beautiful velvet one, with exquisite plumes--her gloves, a costly leather +purse, and a fine hemstitched handkerchief, and as he put them sadly away +on a closet shelf, he said no trace of her had as yet been found. + +On his way toward his own office, Tryon Dunham pondered the remarkable +coincidence which had made him the possessor of two parts of the same +mystery--for he had no doubt that the hat belonged to the young woman who +had claimed his help the evening before. + + * * * * * + +Meantime, the girl who was speeding along toward Chicago had not forgotten +him. She could not if she would, for all about her were reminders of him. +The conductor took charge of her ticket, telling her in his gruff, kind +way what time they would arrive in the city. The porter was solicitous +about her comfort, the newsboy brought the latest magazines and a box of +chocolates and laid them at her shrine with a smile of admiration and the +words, "Th' g'n'lmun sent 'em!" The suit-case lay on the seat opposite, +the reflection of her face in the window-glass, as she gazed into the inky +darkness outside, was crowned by the hat he had provided, and when she +moved the silken rustle of the rain-coat reminded her of his kindness and +forethought. She put her head back and closed her eyes, and for just an +instant let her weary, overwrought mind think what it would mean if the +man from whom she was fleeing had been such as this one seemed to be. + +By and by, she opened the suit-case, half doubtfully, feeling that she was +almost intruding upon another's possessions. + +There were a dress-suit and a change of fine linen, handkerchiefs, +neckties, a pair of gloves, a soft, black felt negligée hat folded, a +large black silk muffler, a bath-robe, and the usual silver-mounted +brushes, combs, and other toilet articles. She looked them over in a +business-like way, trying to see how she could make use of them. Removing +her hat, she covered it with the silk muffler, to protect it from dust. +Then she took off her dress and wrapped herself in the soft bath-robe, +wondering as she did so at her willingness to put on a stranger's +garments. Somehow, in her brief acquaintance with this man, he had +impressed her with his own pleasant fastidiousness, so that there was a +kind of pleasure in using his things, as if they had been those of a +valued friend. + +She touched the electric button that controlled the lights in the little +apartment, and lay down in the darkness to think out her problem of the +new life that lay before her. + +[Illustration] + + + + +V + + +Beginning with the awful moment when she first realized her danger and the +necessity for immediate flight, she lived over every perilous instant, her +nerves straining, her breath bated as if she were experiencing it all once +more. The horror of it! Her own hopeless, helpless condition! But finally, +because her trouble was new and her body and mind, though worn with +excitement, were healthy and young, she sank into a deep sleep, without +having decided at all what she should do. + +At last she woke from a terrible dream, in which the hand of her pursuer +was upon her, and her preserver was in the dark distance. With that +strange insistence which torments the victim of such dreams, she was +obliged to lie still and imagine it out, again and again, until the face +and voice of the young man grew very real in the darkness, and she longed +inexpressibly for the comfort of his presence once more. + +At length she shook off these pursuing thoughts and deliberately roused +herself to plan her future. + +The first necessity, she decided, was to change her appearance so far as +possible, so that if news of her escape, with full description, had been +telegraphed, she might evade notice. To that end, she arose in the early +dawning of a gray and misty morning, and arranged her hair as she had +never worn it before, in two braids and wound closely about her head. It +was neat, and appropriate to the vocation which she had decided upon, and +it made more difference in her appearance than any other thing she could +have done. All the soft, fluffy fulness of rippling hair that had framed +her face was drawn close to her head, and the smooth bands gave her the +simplicity and severity of a saint in some old picture. She pinned up her +gown until it did not show below the long black coat, and folded a white +linen handkerchief about her throat over the delicate lace and garniture +of the modish waist. Then she looked dubiously at the hat. + +With a girl's instinct, her first thought was for her borrowed plumage. A +fine mist was slanting down and had fretted the window-pane until there +was nothing visible but dull gray shadows of a world that flew +monotonously by. With sudden remembrance, she opened the suit-case and +took out the folded black hat, shook it into shape, and put it on. It was +mannish, of course, but girls often wore such hats. + +As she surveyed herself in the long mirror of her door, the slow color +stole into her cheeks. Yet the costume was not unbecoming, nor unusual. +She looked like a simple schoolgirl, or a young business woman going to +her day's work. + +But she looked at the fashionable proportions of the other hat with +something like alarm. How could she protect it? She did not for a moment +think of abandoning it, for it was her earnest desire to return it at +once, unharmed, to its kind purloiner. + +She summoned the newsboy and purchased three thick newspapers. From these, +with the aid of a few pins, she made a large package of the hat. To be +sure, it did not look like a hat when it was done, but that was all the +better. The feathers were upheld and packed softly about with bits of +paper crushed together to make a springy cushion, and the whole built out +and then covered over with paper. She reflected that girls who wore their +hair wound about their heads and covered by plain felt hats would not be +unlikely to carry large newspaper-wrapped packages through the city +streets. + +She decided to go barehanded, and put the white kid gloves in the +suit-case, but she took off her beautiful rings, and hid them safely +inside her dress. + +When the porter came to announce that her breakfast was waiting in the +dining-car, he looked at her almost with a start, but she answered his +look with a pleasant, "Good morning. You see I'm fixed for a damp day." + +"Yes, miss," said the man deferentially. "It's a nasty day outside. I +'spect Chicago'll be mighty wet. De wind's off de lake, and de rain's +comin' from all way 'twoncet." + +She sacrificed one of her precious quarters to get rid of the attentive +porter, and started off with a brisk step down the long platform to the +station. It was part of her plan to get out of the neighborhood as quickly +as possible, so she followed the stream of people who instead of going +into the waiting-room veered off to the street door and out into the +great, wet, noisy world. With the same reasoning, she followed a group of +people into a car, which presently brought her into the neighborhood of +the large stores, as she had hoped it would. It was with relief that she +recognized the name on one of the stores as being of world-wide +reputation. + +Well for her that she was an experienced shopper. She went straight to the +millinery department and arranged to have the hat boxed and sent to the +address Dunham had given her. Her gentle voice and handsome rain-coat +proclaimed her a lady and commanded deference and respectful attention. As +she walked away, she had an odd feeling of having communicated with her +one friend and preserver. + +It had cost less to express the hat than she had feared, yet her stock of +money was woefully small. Some kind of a dress she must have, and a wrap, +that she might be disguised, but what could she buy and yet have something +left for food? There was no telling how long it would be before she could +replenish her purse. Life must be reduced to its lowest terms. True, she +had jewelry which might be sold, but that would scarcely be safe, for if +she were watched, she might easily be identified by it. What did the very +poor do, who were yet respectable? + +The ready-made coats and skirts were entirely beyond her means, even those +that had been marked down. With a hopeless feeling, she walked aimlessly +down between the tables of goods. The suit-case weighed like lead, and she +put it on the floor to rest her aching arms. Lifting her eyes, she saw a +sign over a table--"Linene Skirts, 75 cts. and $1.00." + +Here was a ray of hope. She turned eagerly to examine them. Piles of +sombre skirts, blue and black and tan. They were stout and coarse and +scant, and not of the latest cut, but what mattered it? She decided on a +seventy-five cent black one. It seemed pitiful to have to economize in a +matter of twenty-five cents, when she had been used to counting her money +by dollars, yet there was a feeling of exultation at having gotten for +that price any skirt at all that would do. A dim memory of what she had +read about ten-cent lodging-houses, where human beings were herded like +cattle, hovered over her. + +Growing wise with experience, she discovered that she could get a black +sateen shirt-waist for fifty cents. Rubbers and a cotton umbrella took +another dollar and a half. She must save at least a dollar to send back +the suit-case by express. + +A bargain-table of odds and ends of woollen jackets, golf vests, and old +fashioned blouse sweaters, selling off at a dollar apiece, solved the +problem of a wrap. She selected a dark blouse, of an ugly, purply blue, +but thick and warm. Then with her precious packages she asked a +pleasant-faced saleswoman if there were any place near where she could +slip on a walking skirt she had just bought to save her other skirt from +the muddy streets. She was ushered into a little fitting-room near by. It +was only about four feet square, with one chair and a tiny table, but it +looked like a palace to the girl in her need, and as she fastened the door +and looked at the bare painted walls that reached but a foot or so above +her head and had no ceiling, she wished with all her heart that such a +refuge as this might be her own somewhere in the great, wide, fearful +world. + +Rapidly she slipped off her fine, silk-lined cloth garments, and put on +the stiff sateen waist and the coarse black skirt. Then she surveyed +herself, and was not ill pleased. There was a striking lack of collar and +belt. She sought out a black necktie and pinned it about her waist, and +then, with a protesting frown, she deliberately tore a strip from the edge +of one of the fine hem-stitched handkerchiefs, and folded it in about her +neck in a turn-over collar. The result was quite startling and unfamiliar. +The gown, the hair, the hat, and the neat collar gave her the look of a +young nurse-girl or upper servant. On the whole, the disguise could not +have been better. She added the blue woollen blouse, and felt certain that +even her most intimate friends would not recognize her. She folded the +rain-coat, and placed it smoothly in the suit-case, then with dismay +remembered that she had nothing in which to put her own cloth dress, save +the few inadequate paper wrappings that had come about her simple +purchases. Vainly she tried to reduce the dress to a bundle that would be +covered by the papers. It was of no use. She looked down at the suit-case. +There was room for the dress in there, but she wanted to send Mr. Dunham's +property back at once. She might leave the dress in the store, but some +detective with an accurate description of that dress might be watching, +find it, and trace her. Besides, she shrank from leaving her garments +about in public places. If there had been any bridge near at hand where +she might unobserved throw the dress into a dark river, or a consuming +fire where she might dispose of it, she would have done it. But whatever +she was to do with it must be done at once. Her destiny must be settled +before the darkness came down. She folded the dress smoothly and laid it +in the suit-case, under the rain-coat. + +She sat down at a writing-desk, in the waiting-room, and wrote: "I am +safe, and I thank you." Then she paused an instant, and with nervous haste +wrote "Mary" underneath. She opened the suit-case and pinned the paper to +the lapel of the evening coat. Just three dollars and sixty-seven cents +she had left in her pocket-book after paying the expressage on the +suit-case. + +She felt doubtful whether she might not have done wrong about thus sending +her dress back, but what else could she have done? If she had bought a box +in which to put it, she would have had to carry it with her, and perhaps +the dress might have been found during her absence from her room, and she +suspected because of it. At any rate, it was too late now, and she felt +sure the young man would understand. She hoped it would not inconvenience +him especially to get rid of it. Surely he could give it to some +charitable organization without much trouble. + +At her first waking, in the early gray hours of the morning, she had +looked her predicament calmly in the face. It was entirely likely that it +would continue indefinitely; it might be, throughout her whole life. She +could now see no way of help for herself. Time might, perhaps, give her a +friend who would assist her, or a way might open back into her old life in +some unthought-of manner, but for a time there must be hiding and a way +found to earn her living. + +She had gone carefully over her own accomplishments. Her musical +attainments, which would naturally have been the first thought, were out +of the question. Her skill as a musician was so great, and so well known +by her enemy, that she would probably be traced by it at once. As she +looked back at the hour spent at Mrs. Bowman's piano, she shuddered at the +realization that it might have been her undoing, had it chanced that her +enemy passed the house, with a suspicion that she was inside. She would +never dare to seek a position as accompanist, and she knew how futile it +would be for her to attempt to teach music in an unknown city, among +strangers. She might starve to death before a single pupil appeared. +Besides, that too would put her in a position where she would be more +easily found. The same arguments were true if she were to attempt to take +a position as teacher or governess, although she was thoroughly competent +to do so. Rapidly rejecting all the natural resources which under ordinary +circumstances she would have used to maintain herself, she determined to +change her station entirely, at least for the present. She would have +chosen to do something in a little, quiet hired room somewhere, sewing or +decorating or something of the sort, but that too would be hopelessly out +of her reach, without friends to aid her. A servant's place in some one's +home was the only thing possible that presented itself to her mind. She +could not cook, nor do general housework, but she thought she could fill +the place of waitress. + +With a brave face, but a shrinking heart, she stepped into a drug-store +and looked up in the directory the addresses of several employment +agencies. + +[Illustration] + + + + +VI + + +It was half past eleven when she stepped into the first agency on her +list, and business was in full tide. + +While she stood shrinking by the door the eyes of a dozen women fastened +upon her, each with keen scrutiny. The sensitive color stole into her +delicate cheeks. As the proprietress of the office began to question her, +she felt her courage failing. + +"You wish a position?" The woman had a nose like a hawk, and eyes that +held no sympathy. "What do you want? General housework?" + +"I should like a position as waitress." Her voice was low and sounded +frightened to herself. + +The hawk nose went up contemptuously. + +"Better take general housework. There are too many waitresses already." + +"I understand the work of a waitress, but I never have done general +housework," she answered with the voice of a gentlewoman, which somehow +angered the hawk, who had trained herself to get the advantage over people +and keep it or else know the reason why. + +"Very well, do as you please, of course, but you bite your own nose off. +Let me see your references." + +The girl was ready for this. + +"I am sorry, but I cannot give you any. I have lived only in one home, +where I had entire charge of the table and dining-room, and that home was +broken up when the people went abroad three years ago. I could show you +letters written by the mistress of that home if I had my trunk here, but +it is in another city, and I do not know when I shall be able to send for +it." + +"No references!" screamed the hawk, then raising her voice, although it +was utterly unnecessary: "Ladies, here is a girl who has no references. Do +any of you want to venture?" The contemptuous laugh that followed had the +effect of a warning to every woman in the room. "And this girl scorns +general housework, and presumes to dictate for a place as waitress," went +on the hawk. + +"I want a waitress badly," said a troubled woman in a subdued whisper, +"but I really wouldn't dare take a girl without references. She might be a +thief, you know, and then--really, she doesn't look as if she was used to +houses like mine. I must have a neat, stylish-looking girl. No +self-respecting waitress nowadays would go out in the street dressed like +that." + +All the eyes in the room seemed boring through the poor girl as she stood +trembling, humiliated, her cheeks burning, while horrified tears demanded +to be let up into her eyes. She held her dainty head proudly, and turned +away with dignity. + +"However, if you care to try," called out the hawk, "you can register at +the desk and leave two dollars, and if in the meantime you can think of +anybody who'll give us a reference, we'll look it up. But we never +guarantee girls without references." + +The tears were too near the surface now for her even to acknowledge this +information flung at her in an unpleasant voice. She went out of the +office, and immediately,--surreptitiously,--two women hurried after her. + +One was flabby, large, and overdressed, with a pasty complexion and eyes +like a fish, in which was a lack of all moral sense. She hurried after the +girl and took her by the shoulder just as she reached the top of the +stairs that led down into the street. + +The other was a small, timid woman, with anxiety and indecision written +all over her, and a last year's street suit with the sleeves remodelled. +When she saw who had stopped the girl, she lingered behind in the hall and +pretended there was something wrong with the braid on her skirt. While she +lingered she listened. + +"Wait a minute, Miss," said the flashy woman. "You needn't feel bad about +having references. Everybody isn't so particular. You come with me, and +I'll put you in the way of earning more than you can ever get as a +waitress. You weren't cut out for work, any way, with that face and voice. +I've been watching you. You were meant for a lady. You need to be dressed +up, and you'll be a real pretty girl----" + +As she talked, she had come nearer, and now she leaned over and whispered +so that the timid woman, who was beginning dimly to perceive what manner +of creature this other woman was, could not hear. + +But the girl stepped back with sudden energy and flashing eyes, shaking +off the be-ringed hand that had grasped her shoulder. + +"Don't you dare to speak to me!" she said in a loud, clear voice. "Don't +you dare to touch me! You are a wicked woman! If you touch me again, I +will go in there and tell all those women how you have insulted me!" + +"Oh, well, if you're a saint, starve!" hissed the woman. + +"I should rather starve ten thousand times than take help from you," said +the girl, and her clear, horrified eyes seemed to burn into the woman's +evil face. She turned and slid away, like the wily old serpent that she +was. + +Down the stairs like lightning sped the girl, her head up in pride and +horror, her eyes still flashing. And down the stairs after her sped the +little, anxious woman, panting and breathless, determined to keep her in +sight till she could decide whether it was safe to take a girl without a +character--yet who had just shown a bit of her character unaware. + +Two blocks from the employment office the girl paused, to realize that she +was walking blindly, without any destination. She was trembling so with +terror that she was not sure whether she had the courage to enter another +office, and a long vista of undreamed-of fears arose in her imagination. + +The little woman paused, too, eying the girl cautiously, then began in an +eager voice: + +"I've been following you." + +The girl started nervously, a cold chill of fear coming over her. Was this +a woman detective? + +"I heard what that awful woman said to you, and I saw how you acted. You +must be a good girl, or you wouldn't have talked to her that way. I +suppose I'm doing a dangerous thing, but I can't help it. I believe you're +all right, and I'm going to try you, if you'll take general housework. I +need somebody right away, for I'm going to have a dinner party to-morrow +night, and my girl left me this morning." + +The kind tone in the midst of her troubles brought tears to the girl's +eyes. + +"Oh, thank you!" she said as she brushed the tears away. "I'm a stranger +here, and I have never before been among strangers this way. I'd like to +come and work for you, but I couldn't do general housework, I'm sure. I +never did it, and I wouldn't know how." + +"Can't you cook a little? I could teach you my ways." + +"I don't know the least thing about cooking. I never cooked a thing in my +life." + +"What a pity! What was your mother thinking about? Every girl ought to be +brought up to know a little about cooking, even if she does have some +other employment." + +"My mother has been dead a good many years." The tears brimmed over now, +but the girl tried to smile. "I could help you with your dinner party," +she went on. "That is, I know all about setting the tables and arranging +the flowers and favors. I could paint the place-cards, too--I've done it +many a time. And I could wait on the table. But I couldn't cook even an +oyster." + +"Oh, place-cards!" said the little woman, her eyes brightening. She caught +at the word as though she had descried a new star in the firmament. "I +wish I could have them. They cost so much to buy. I might have my +washerwoman come and help with the cooking. She cooks pretty well, and I +could help her beforehand, but she couldn't wait on table, to save her +life. I wonder if you know much about menus. Could you help me fix out the +courses and say what you think I ought to have, or don't you know about +that? You see, I have this very particular company coming, and I want to +have things nice. I don't know them very well. My husband has business +relations with them and wants them invited, and of all times for Betty to +leave this was the worst!" She had unconsciously fallen into a tone of +equality with the strange girl. + +"I should like to help you," said the girl, "but I must find somewhere to +stay before night, and if I find a place I must take it. I just came to +the city this morning, and have nowhere to stay overnight." + +The troubled look flitted across the woman's face for a moment, but her +desire got the better of her. + +"I suppose my husband would think I was crazy to do it," she said aloud, +"but I just can't help trusting you. Suppose you come and stay with me +to-day and to-morrow, and help me out with this dinner party, and you can +stay overnight at my house and sleep in the cook's room. If I like your +work, I'll give you a recommendation as waitress. You can't get a good +place anywhere without it, not from the offices, I'm sure. A +recommendation ought to be worth a couple of days' work to you. I'd pay +you something besides, but I really can't afford it, for the washerwoman +charges a dollar and a half a day when she goes out to cook; but if you +get your board and lodging and a reference, that ought to pay you." + +"You are very kind," said the girl. "I shall be glad to do that." + +"When will you come? Can you go with me now, or have you got to go after +your things?" + +"I haven't any things but these," she said simply, "and perhaps you will +not think I am fine enough for your dinner party. I have a little money. I +could buy a white apron. My trunk is a good many miles away, and I was in +desperate straits and had to leave it." + +"H'm! A stepmother, probably," thought the kindly little woman. "Poor +child! She doesn't look as if she was used to roughing it. If I could only +hold on to her and train her, she might be a treasure, but there's no +telling what John will say. I won't tell him anything about her, if I can +help it, till the dinner is over." + +Aloud she said: "Oh, that won't be necessary. I've got a white apron I'll +lend you--perhaps I'll give it to you if you do your work well. Then we +can fix up some kind of a waitress's cap out of a lace-edged handkerchief, +and you'll look fine. I'd rather do that and have you come right along +home with me, for everything is at sixes at sevens. Betty went off without +washing the breakfast dishes. You can wash dishes, any way." + +"Why, I can try," laughed the girl, the ridiculousness of her present +situation suddenly getting the better of other emotions. + +And so they got into a car and were whirled away into a pretty suburb. The +woman, whose name was Mrs. Hart, lived in a common little house filled +with imitation oriental rugs and cheap furniture. + +The two went to work at once, bringing order out of the confusion that +reigned in the tiny kitchen. In the afternoon the would-be waitress sat +down with a box of water-colors to paint dinner-cards, and as her skilful +brush brought into being dainty landscapes, lovely flowers, and little +brown birds, she pondered the strangeness of her lot. + +The table the next night was laid with exquisite care, the scant supply of +flowers having been used to best advantage, and everything showing the +touch of a skilled hand. The long hours that Mrs. Hart had spent +puckering her brow over the household department of fashion magazines +helped her to recognize the fact that in her new maid she had what she was +pleased to call "the real thing." + +She sighed regretfully when the guest of honor, Mrs. Rhinehart, spoke of +the deftness and pleasant appearance of her hostess's waitress. + +"Yes," Mrs. Hart said, swelling with pride, "she is a treasure. I only +wish I could keep her." + +"She's going to get married, I suppose. They all do when they're good," +sympathized the guest. + +"No, but she simply won't do cooking, and I really haven't work enough for +two servants in this little house." + +The guest sat up and took notice. + +"You don't mean to tell me that you are letting a girl like that slip +through your fingers? I wish I had known about her. I have spent three +days in intelligence offices. Is there any chance for me, do you think?" + +Then did the little woman prove that she should have had an _e_ in her +name, for she burst into a most voluble account of the virtues of her new +maid, until the other woman was ready to hire her on the spot. The result +of it all was that "Mary" was summoned to an interview with Mrs. Rhinehart +in the dining-room, and engaged at four dollars a week, with every other +Sunday afternoon and every other Thursday out, and her uniforms furnished. + +The next morning Mr. Hart gave her a dollar-bill and told her that he +appreciated the help she had given them, and wanted to pay her something +for it. + +She thanked him graciously and took the money with a kind of awe. Her +first earnings! It seemed so strange to think that she had really earned +some money, she who had always had all she wanted without lifting a +finger. + +She went to a store and bought a hair-brush and a few little things that +she felt were necessities, with a fifty-cent straw telescope in which to +put them. Thus, with her modest baggage, she entered the home of Mrs. +Rhinehart, and ascended to a tiny room on the fourth floor, in which were +a cot and a washstand, a cracked mirror, one chair, and one window. Mrs. +Rhinehart had planned that the waitress should room with the cook, but the +girl had insisted that she must have a room alone, no matter how small, +and they had compromised on this unused, ill-furnished spot. + +As she took off the felt hat, she wondered what its owner would think if +he could see her now, and she brushed a fleck of dust gently from the +felt, as if in apology for its humble surroundings. Then she smoothed her +hair, put on the apron Mrs. Hart had given her, and descended to her new +duties as maid in a fashionable home. + +[Illustration] + + + + +VII + + +Three days later Tryon Dunham entered the office of Judge Blackwell by +appointment. After the business was completed the Judge said with a smile, +"Well, our mystery is solved. The little girl is all safe. She telephoned +me just after you had left the other day, and sent her maid after her hat. +It seems that while she stood by the window, looking down into the street, +she saw an automobile containing some of her friends. It stopped at the +next building. Being desirous of speaking with a girl friend who was +seated in the auto, she hurried out to the elevator, hoping to catch them. +The elevator boy who took her down-stairs went off duty immediately, which +accounts for our not finding any trace of her, and he was kept at home by +illness the next morning. The young woman caught her friends, and they +insisted that she should get in and ride to the station with one of them +who was leaving the city at once. They loaned her a veil and a wrap, and +promised to bring her right back for her papers and other possessions, but +the train was late, and when they returned the building was closed. The +two men who called for her were her brother and a friend of his, it seems. +I must say they were not so attractive as she is. However, the mystery is +solved, and I got well laughed at by my wife for my fears." + +But the young man was puzzling how this all could be if the hat belonged +to the girl he knew--to "Mary." When he left the Judge's office, he went +to his club, determined to have a little quiet for thinking it over. + +Matters at home had not been going pleasantly. There had been an ominous +cloud over the breakfast table. The bill for the hat had arrived from +Madame Dollard's, and Cornelia had laid it impressively by his plate. Even +his mother had looked at him with a glance that spoke volumes as she +remarked that it would be necessary for her to have a new rain-coat before +another storm came. + +There had been a distinct coolness between Tryon Dunham and his mother +and sister ever since the morning when the loss of the hat and rain-coat +was announced. Or did it date from the evening of that day when both +mother and sister had noticed the beautiful ring which he wore? They had +exclaimed over the flash of the diamond, and its peculiar pureness and +brilliancy, and Cornelia had been quite disagreeable when he refused to +take it off for her to examine. He had replied to his mother's question by +saying that the ring belonged to a friend of his. He knew his mother was +hurt by the answer, but what more could he do at present? True, he might +have taken the ring off and prevented further comment, but it had come to +him to mean loyalty to and belief in the girl whom he had so strangely +been permitted to help. It was therefore in deep perplexity that he betook +himself to his club and sat down in a far corner to meditate. He was +annoyed when the office-boy appeared to tell him, there were some packages +awaiting him in the office. "Bring them to me here, Henry." + +The boy hustled away, and soon came back, bearing two hat-boxes--one of +them in a crate--and the heavy leather suit-case. + +With a start of surprise, Dunham sat up in his comfortable chair. + +"Say, Henry, those things ought not to come in here." He glanced anxiously +about, and was relieved to find that there was only one old gentleman in +the room, and that he was asleep. "Suppose we go up to a private room with +them. Take them out to the elevator, and I'll come in a moment." + +"All right, sah." + +"And say, Henry, suppose you remove that crate from the box. Then it won't +be so heavy to carry." + +"All right, sah. I'll be thah in jest a minute." + +The young man hurried out to the elevator, and he and Henry made a quick +ascent to a private room. He gave the boy a round fee, and was left in +quiet to examine his property. + +As he fumbled with the strings of the first box his heart beat wildly, and +he felt the blood mounting to his face. Was he about to solve the mystery +which had surrounded the girl in whom his interest had now grown so deep +that he could scarcely get her out of his mind for a few minutes at a +time? + +But the box was empty, save for some crumpled white tissue-paper. He took +up the cover in perplexity and saw his own name written by himself. Then +he remembered. This was the box he had sent down to the club by the +cabman, to get it out of his way. He felt disappointed, and turned quickly +to the other box and cut the cord. This time he was rewarded by seeing the +great black hat, beautiful and unhurt in spite of its journey to Chicago. +The day was saved, and also the reputation of his mother's maid. But was +there no word from the beautiful stranger? He searched hurriedly through +the wrappings, pulled out the hat quite unceremoniously, and turned the +box upside down, but nothing else could he find. Then he went at the +suit-case. Yes, there was the rain-coat. He took it out triumphantly, for +now his mother could say nothing, and, moreover, was not his trust in the +fair stranger justified? He had done well to believe in her. He began to +take out the other garments, curious to see what had been there for her +use. + +A long, golden brown hair nestling on the collar of the bathrobe gleamed +in a chance ray of sunlight. He looked at it reverently, and laid the +garment down carefully, that it might not be disturbed. As he lifted the +coat, he saw the little note pinned to the lapel, and seized it eagerly. +Surely this would tell him something! + +But no, there was only the message that she had arrived safely, and her +thanks. Stay, she had signed her name "Mary." She had told him he might +call her that. Could it be that it was her real name, and that she had +meant to trust him with so much of her true story? + +He pondered the delicate writing of the note, thinking how like her it +seemed, then he put the note in an inner pocket and thoughtfully lifted +out the evening clothes. It was then that he touched the silken lined +cloth of her dress, and he drew back almost as if he had ventured roughly +upon something sacred. Startled, awed, he looked upon it, and then with +gentle fingers lifted it and laid it upon his knee. Her dress! The one she +had worn to the dinner with him! What did it all mean? Why was it here, +and where was she? + +He spread it out across his lap and looked at it almost as if it hid her +presence. He touched with curious, wistful fingers the lace and delicate +garniture about the waist, as if he would appeal to it to tell the story +of her who had worn it. + +What did its presence here mean? Did it bear some message? He searched +carefully, but found nothing further. Had she reached a place of safety +where she did not need the dress? No, for in that case, why should she +have sent it to him? Had she been desperate perhaps, and----? But no, he +would not think such things of her. + +Gradually, as he looked, the gown told its own story, as she had thought +it would: how she had been obliged to put on a disguise, and this was the +only way to hide her own dress. Gradually he came to feel a great pleasure +in the fact that she had trusted him with it. She had known he would +understand, and perhaps had not had time to make further explanation. But +if she had need of a disguise, she was still in danger! Oh, why had she +not given him some clue? He dropped his head upon his hand in troubled +perplexity. + +A faint perfume of violets stole upon his senses from the dress lying +across his knee. He touched it tenderly, and then half shamefacedly laid +his cheek against it, breathing in the perfume. But he put it down +quickly, looking quite foolish, and reminded himself that the girl was +still a stranger, and that she might belong to another. + +Then he thought again of the story the Judge had told him, and of his own +first conviction that the two young women were identical. Could that be? +Why could he not discover who the other girl was, and get some one to +introduce him? He resolved to interview the Judge about it at their next +meeting. In the meantime, he must wait and hope for further word from +Mary. Surely she would write him again, and claim her ring perhaps, and, +as she had been so thoughtful about returning the hat and coat at once, +she would probably return the money he had loaned her. At least, he would +hear from her in that way. There was nothing to do but be patient. + +Yes, there was the immediate problem of how he should restore his sister's +hat and his mother's coat to their places, unsuspected. + +With a sigh, he carefully folded up the cloth gown, wrapped it in folds of +tissue paper from the empty hat-box, and placed it in his suit-case. Then +he transferred the hat to its original box, rang the bell, and ordered the +boy to care for the box and suit-case until he called for them. + +During the afternoon he took occasion to run into the Judge's office about +some unimportant detail of the business they were transacting, and as he +was leaving he said: + +"By the way, Judge, who was your young woman who gave you such a fright by +her sudden disappearance? You never told me her name. Is she one of my +acquaintances, I wonder?" + +"Oh, her name is Mary Weston," said the Judge, smiling. "I don't believe +you know her, for she was from California, and was visiting here only for +a few days. She sailed for Europe the next day." + +That closed the incident, and, so far as the mystery was concerned, only +added perplexity to it. + +Dunham purposely remained down-town, merely having a clerk telephone home +for him that he had gone out of the city and would not be home until late, +so they need not wait up. He did this because he did not wish to have his +mother or his sister ask him any more questions about the missing hat and +coat. Then he took a twenty-mile trolley ride into the suburbs and back, +to make good his word that he had gone out of town; and all the way he +kept turning over and over the mystery of the beautiful young woman, until +it began to seem to him that he had been crazy to let her drift out into +the world alone and practically penniless. The dress had told its tale. He +saw, of course, that if she were afraid of detection, she must have found +it necessary to buy other clothing, and how could she have bought it with +only nine dollars and seventy-five cents? He now felt convinced that he +should have found some way to cash a check and thus supply her with what +she needed. It was terrible. True, she had those other beautiful rings, +which were probably valuable, but would she dare to sell them? Perhaps, +though, she had found some one else as ready as he had been to help her. +But, to his surprise, that thought was distasteful to him. During his +long, cold ride in solitude he discovered that the thing he wanted most in +life was to find that girl again and take care of her. + +Of course he reasoned with himself most earnestly from one end of the +trolley line to the other, and called himself all kinds of a fool, but it +did not the slightest particle of good. Underneath all the reasoning, he +knew he was glad that he had found her once, and he determined to find her +again, and to unravel the mystery. Then he sat looking long and earnestly +into the depths of the beautiful white stone she had given to him, as if +he might there read the way to find her. + +A little after midnight he arrived at the club-house, secured his +suit-case and the hat-box, and took a cab to his home. He left the vehicle +at the corner, lest the sound of it waken his mother or sister. + +He let himself silently into the house with his latch-key, and tiptoed up +to his room. The light was burning low. He put the hat-box in the farthest +corner of his closet, then he took out the rain-coat, and, slipping off +his shoes, went softly down to the hall closet. + +In utter darkness he felt around and finally hung the coat on a hook under +another long cloak, then gently released the hanging loop and let the +garment slip softly down in an inconspicuous heap on the floor. He stole +upstairs as guiltily as if he had been a naughty boy stealing sugar. When +he reached his room, he turned up his light, and, pulling out the hat-box, +surveyed it thoughtfully. This was a problem which he had not yet been +able to solve. How should he dispose of the hat so that it would be +discovered in such a way as to cast no further suspicion upon the maid? +How would it do to place the hat in the hall-closet, back among the coats? +No, it might excite suspicion to find them together. Could he put it in +his own closet and profess to have found it there? No, for that might lead +to unpleasant questioning, and perhaps involve the servants again. If he +could only put it back where he had found it! But Cornelia, of course, +would know it had not been there in her room all this week. It would be +better to wait until the coast was clear and hide it in Cornelia's closet, +where it might have been put by mistake and forgotten. It was going to be +hard to explain, but that was the best plan he could evolve. + +He took the hat out and held it on his hand, looking at it from different +angles and trying to remember just how the girl had looked out at him from +under its drooping plumes. Then with a sigh he laid it carefully in its +box again and went to bed. + +The morning brought clearer thought, and when the summons to breakfast +pealed through the hall he took the box boldly in his hand and descended +to the dining-room, where he presented the hat to his astonished sister. + +"I am afraid I am the criminal, Cornelia," he said in his pleasantest +manner. "I'm sorry I can't explain just how this thing got on my +closet-shelf. I must have put it there myself through some unaccountable +mix-up. It's too bad I couldn't have found it before and so saved you a +lot of worry. But you are one hat the richer for it, for I paid the bill +yesterday. Please accept it with my compliments." + +Cornelia exclaimed with delight over the recovered hat. + +"But how in the world could it have got into your closet, Tryon? It was +impossible. I left it my room, I know I did, for I spoke to Norah about it +before I left. How do you account for it?" + +"Oh, I don't attempt to account for it," he said, with a gay wave of his +hand. "I've been so taken up with other things this past week, I may have +done almost anything. By the way, Mother, I'm sure you'll be glad to hear +that Judge Blackwell has made me a most generous offer of business +relations, and that I have decided to accept it." + +Amid the exclamations of delight over this bit of news, the hat was +forgotten for a time, and when the mother and sister finally reverted to +it and began to discuss how it could have gotten on the closet shelf, he +broke in upon their questions with a suggestion. + +"I should advise, Mother, that you make a thorough search for your +rain-coat. I am sure now that you must have overlooked it. Such things +often happen. We were so excited the morning Cornelia missed the hat that +I suppose no one looked thoroughly." + +"But that is impossible, Tryon," said his mother, with dignity. "I had +that closet searched most carefully." + +"Nevertheless, Mother, please me by looking again. That closet is dark, +and I would suggest a light." + +"Of course, if you wish it," said his mother stiffly. "You might look, +yourself." + +"I'm afraid I shall not have time this morning," professed the coward. +"But suppose you look in your own closets, too, Mother. I'm sure you'll +find it somewhere. It couldn't get out of the house of itself, and Norah +is no thief. The idea is preposterous. Please have it attended to +carefully to-day. Good-by. I shall have to hurry down-town, and I can't +tell just what time I shall get back this evening. 'Phone me if you find +the coat anywhere. If you don't find it, I'll buy you another this +afternoon." + +"I shall _not_ find the rain-coat," said his mother sternly, "but of +course I will look to satisfy you. I _know_ it is not in this house." + +He beat a hasty retreat, for he did not care to be present at the finding +of the rain-coat. + +"There is something strange about this," said Mrs. Dunham, as with ruffled +dignity she emerged from the hall closet, holding her lost rain-coat at +arm's length. "You don't suppose your brother could be playing some kind +of a joke on us, do you, Cornie? I never did understand jokes." + +"Of course not," said practical Cornelia, with a sniff. "It's my opinion +that Norah knows all about the matter, and Tryon has been helping her out +with a few suggestions." + +"Now, Cornelia, what do you mean by that? You surely don't suppose your +brother would try to deceive us--his mother and sister?" + +"I didn't say that, Mother," answered Cornelia, with her head in the air. +"You've got your rain-coat back, but you'd better watch the rest of your +wardrobe. I don't intend to let Norah have free range in my room any +more." + +[Illustration] + + + + +VIII + + +Meantime, the girl in Chicago was walking in a new and hard way. She +brought to her task a disciplined mind, a fine artistic taste, a delicate +but healthy body, and a pair of willing, if unskilled, hands. To her +surprise, she discovered that the work for which she had so often lightly +given orders was beyond her strength. Try as she would, she could not +accomplish the task of washing and ironing table napkins and delicate +embroidered linen pieces in the way she knew they should be done. Will +power can accomplish a good deal, but it cannot always make up for +ignorance, and the girl who had mastered difficult subjects in college, +and astonished music masters in the old world with her talent, found that +she could not wash a window even to her own satisfaction, much less to +that of her new mistress. That these tasks were expected of her was a +surprise. Yet with her ready adaptability and her strong good sense, she +saw that if she was to be a success in this new field she had chosen, she +must be ready for any emergency. Nevertheless, as the weary days succeeded +each other into weeks, she found that while her skill in table-setting and +waiting was much prized, it was more than offset by her discrepancies in +other lines, and so it came about that with mutual consent she and Mrs. +Rhinehart parted company. + +This time, with her reference, she did not find it so hard to get another +place, and, after trying several, she learned to demand certain things, +which put her finally into a home where her ability was appreciated, and +where she was not required to do things in which she was unskilled. + +She was growing more secure in her new life now, and less afraid to +venture into the streets lest some one should be on the watch for her. But +night after night, as she climbed to her cheerless room and crept to her +scantily-covered, uncomfortable couch, she shrank from all that life could +now hold out to her. Imprisoned she was, to a narrow round of toil, with +no escape, and no one to know or care. + +And who knew but that any day an enemy might trace her? + +Then the son of the house came home from college in disgrace, and began to +make violent love to her, until her case seemed almost desperate. She +dreaded inexpressibly to make another change, for in some ways her work +was not so hard as it had been in other places, and her wages were better; +but from day to day she felt she could scarcely bear the hourly +annoyances. The other servants, too, were not only utterly +uncompanionable, but deeply jealous of her, resenting her gentle breeding, +her careful speech, her dainty personal ways, her room to herself, her +loyalty to her mistress. + +Sometimes in the cold and darkness of the night-vigils she would remember +the man who had helped her, who had promised to be her friend, and had +begged her to let him know if she ever needed help. Her hungry heart cried +out for sympathy and counsel. In her dreams she saw him coming to her +across interminable plains, hastening with his kindly sympathy, but she +always awoke before he reached her. + +[Illustration] + + + + +IX + + +It was about this time that the firm of Blackwell, Hanover & Dunham had a +difficult case to work out which involved the gathering of evidence from +Chicago and thereabouts, and it was with pleasure that Judge Blackwell +accepted the eager proposal from the junior member of the firm that he +should go out and attend to it. + +As Tryon Dunham entered the sleeper, and placed his suit-case beside him +on the seat, he was reminded of the night when he had taken this train +with the girl who had come to occupy a great part of his thoughts in these +days. He had begun to feel that if he could ever hope to shake off his +anxiety and get back to his normal state of mind, he must find her and +unravel the mystery about her. If she were safe and had friends, so that +he was not needed, perhaps he would be able to put her out of his +thoughts, but if she were not safe----He did not quite finish the +sentence even in his thoughts, but his heart beat quicker always, and he +knew that if she needed him he was ready to help her, even at the +sacrifice of his life. + +All during the journey he planned a campaign for finding her, until he +came to know in his heart that this was the real mission for which he had +come to Chicago, although he intended to perform the other business +thoroughly and conscientiously. + +Upon his arrival in Chicago, he inserted a number of advertisements in the +daily papers, having laid various plans by which she might safely +communicate with him without running the risk of detection by her enemy. + + If M.R. is in Chicago, will she kindly communicate with T. + Dunham, General Delivery? Important. + + Mrs. Bowman's friend has something of importance to say to the + lady who dined with her October 8th. Kindly send address to T.D., + Box 7 _Inter-Ocean_ office. + + "Mary," let me know where and when I can speak with you about a + matter of importance. Tryon D., _Record-Herald_ L. + +These and others appeared in the different papers, but when he began to +get communications from all sorts of poor creatures, every one demanding +money, and when he found himself running wild-goose chases after different +Marys and M.R.s, he abandoned all hope of personal columns in the +newspapers. Then he began a systematic search for music teachers and +musicians, for it seemed to him that this would be her natural way of +earning her living, if she were so hard pressed that this was necessary. + +In the course of his experiments he came upon many objects of pity, and +his heart was stirred with the sorrow and the misery of the human race as +it had never been stirred in all his happy, well-groomed life. Many a poor +soul was helped and strengthened and put into the way of doing better +because of this brief contact with him. But always as he saw new miseries +he was troubled over what might have become of her--"Mary." It came to +pass that whenever he looked upon the face of a young woman, no matter how +pinched and worn with poverty, he dreaded lest _she_ might have come to +this pass, and be in actual need. As these thoughts went on day by day, he +came to feel that she was his by a God-given right, his to find, his to +care for. If she was in peril, he must save her. If she had done +wrong--but this he could never believe. Her face was too pure and lovely +for that. So the burden of her weighed upon his heart all the days while +he went about the difficult business of gathering evidence link by link in +the important law case that had brought him to Chicago. + +Dunham had set apart working hours, and he seemed to labor with double +vigor then because of the other task he had set himself. When at last he +finished the legal business he had come for, and might go home, he +lingered yet a day, and then another, devoting himself with almost +feverish activity to the search for his unknown friend. + +It was the evening of the third day after his law work was finished that +with a sad heart he went toward the hotel where he had been stopping. He +was obliged at last to face the fact that his search had been in vain. + +He had almost reached the hotel when he met a business acquaintance, who +welcomed him warmly, for far and wide among legal men the firm of which +Judge Blackwell was the senior member commanded respect. + +"Well, well!" said the older man. "Is this you, Dunham? I thought you were +booked for home two days ago. Suppose you come home to dinner with me. +I've a matter I'd like to talk over with you before you leave. I shall +count this a most fortunate meeting if you will." + +Just because he caught at any straw to keep him longer in Chicago, Dunham +accepted the invitation. Just as the cab door was flung open in front of +the handsome house where he was to be a guest, two men passed slowly by, +like shadows out of place, and there floated to his ears one sentence +voiced in broadest Irish: "She goes by th' name of Mary, ye says? All +roight, sorr. I'll keep a sharp lookout." + +Tryon Dunham turned and caught a glimpse of silver changing hands. One man +was slight and fashionably dressed, and the light that was cast from the +neighboring window showed his face to be dark and handsome. The other was +short and stout, and clad in a faded Prince Albert coat that bagged at +shoulders and elbows. He wore rubbers over his shoes, and his footsteps +sounded like those of a heavy dog. The two passed around the corner, and +Dunham and his host entered the house. + +They were presently seated at a well appointed table, where an elaborate +dinner was served. The talk was of pleasant things that go to make up the +world of refinement; but the mind of the guest was troubled, and +constantly kept hearing that sentence, "She goes by the name of Mary." + +Then, suddenly, he looked up and met her eyes! + +She was standing just back of her mistress's chair, with quiet, watchful +attitude, but her eyes had been unconsciously upon the guest, until he +looked up and caught her glance. + +She turned away, but the color rose in her cheeks, and she knew that he +was watching her. + +Her look had startled him. He had never thought of looking for her in a +menial position, and at first he had noticed only the likeness to her for +whom he was searching. But he watched her furtively, until he became more +and more startled with the resemblance. + +She did not look at him again, but he noticed that her cheeks were +scarlet, and that the long lashes drooped as if she were trying to hide +her eyes. She went now and again from the room on her silent, deft +errands, bringing and taking dishes, filling the glasses with ice water, +seeming to know at a glance just what was needed. Whenever she went from +the room he tried to persuade himself that it was not she, and then became +feverishly impatient for her return that he might anew convince himself +that it _was_. He felt a helpless rage at the son of the house for the +familiar way in which he said: "Mary, fill my glass," and could not keep +from frowning. Then he was startled at the similarity of names. Mary! The +men on the street had used the name, too! Could it be that her enemy had +tracked her? Perhaps he, Dunham, had appeared just in time to help her! + +His busy brain scarcely heard the questions with which his host was plying +him, and his replies were distraught and monosyllabic. At last he broke in +upon the conversation: + +"Excuse me, but I wonder if I may interrupt you for a moment. I have +thought of something that I ought to attend to at once. I wonder if the +waitress would be kind enough to send a 'phone message for me. I am afraid +it will be too late if I wait." + +"Why, certainly," said the host, all anxiety. "Would you like to go to the +'phone yourself, or can I attend to it for you? Just feel perfectly at +home." + +Already the young man was hastily writing a line or two on a card he had +taken from his pocket, and he handed it to the waitress, who at his +question had moved silently behind his chair to do his bidding. + +"Just call up that number, please, and give the message below. They will +understand, and then you will write down their answer?" + +He handed her the pencil and turned again to his dessert, saying with a +relieved air: + +"Thank you. I am sorry for the interruption. Now will you finish that +story?" Apparently his entire attention was devoted to his host and his +ice, but in reality he was listening to the click of the telephone and the +low, gentle voice in an adjoining room. It came after only a moment's +pause, and he wondered at the calmness with which the usual formula of the +telephone was carried on. He could not hear what she said, but his ears +were alert to the pause, just long enough for a few words to be written, +and then to her footsteps coming quietly back. + +His heart was beating wildly. It seemed to him that his host must see the +strained look in his face, but he tried to fasten his interest upon the +conversation and keep calm. + +He had applied the test. There was no number upon the card, and he knew +that if the girl were not the one of whom he was in search, she would +return for an explanation. + + If you are "Mary Remington," tell me where and when I can talk + with you. Immediately important to us both! + +This was what he had written on the card. His fingers trembled as he took +it from the silver tray which she presented to him demurely. He picked it +up and eagerly read the delicate writing--hers--the same that had +expressed her thanks and told of her safe arrival in Chicago. He could +scarcely refrain from leaping from his chair and shouting aloud in his +gladness. + +The message she had written was simple. No stranger reading it would have +thought twice about it. If the guest had read it aloud, it would have +aroused no suspicion. + + Y.W.C.A. Building, small parlor, three to-morrow. + +He knew the massive building, for he had passed it many times, but never +had he supposed it could have any interest for him. Now suddenly his heart +warmed to the great organization of Christian women who had established +these havens for homeless ones in the heart of the great cities. + +He looked up at the girl as she was passing the coffee on the other side +of the table, but not a flicker of an eyelash showed she recognized him. +She went through her duties and withdrew from the room, but though they +lingered long over the coffee, she did not return. When they went into +the other room, his interest in the family grew less and less. The +daughter of the house sat down at the piano, after leading him up to ask +her to sing, and chirped through several sentimental songs, tinkling out a +shallow accompaniment with her plump, manicured fingers. His soul revolted +at the thought that she should be here entertaining the company, while +that other one whose music would have thrilled them all stayed humbly in +the kitchen, doing some menial task. + +He took his leave early in the evening and hurried back to his hotel. As +he crossed the street to hail a cab, he thought he saw a short, baggy +figure shambling along in the shadow on the other side, looking up at the +house. + +He had professed to have business to attend to, but when he reached his +room he could do nothing but sit down and think. That he had found her for +whom he had so long sought filled him with a deeper joy than any he had +ever known before. That he had found her in such a position deepened the +mystery and filled him with a nameless dread. Then out of the shadow of +his thoughts shambled the baggy man in the rubbers, and he could not rest, +but took his hat and walked out again into the great rumbling whirl of the +city night, walking on and on, until he again reached the house where he +had dined. + +He passed in front of the building, and found lights still burning +everywhere. Down the side street, he saw the windows were brightly lighted +in the servants' quarters, and loud laughter was sounding. Was she in +there enduring such company? No, for there high in the fourth story +gleamed a little light, and a shadow moved about across the curtain. +Something told him that it was her room. He paced back and forth until the +light went out, and then reverently, with lifted hat, turned and found his +way back to the main avenue and a car line. As he passed the area gate a +bright light shot out from the back door, there was a peal of laughter, an +Irish goodnight, and a short man in baggy coat and rubbers shambled out +and scuttled noiselessly down to the back street. + +[Illustration] + + + + +X + + +Dunham slept very little that night. His soul was hovering between joy and +anxiety. Almost he was inclined to find some way to send her word about +the man he had seen lingering about the place, and yet perhaps it was +foolish. He had doubtless been to call on the cook, and there might be no +connection whatever between what Dunham had heard and seen and the lonely +girl. + +Next day, with careful hands, the girl made herself neat and trim with the +few materials she had at hand. Her own fine garments that had lain +carefully wrapped and hidden ever since she had gone into service were +brought forth, and the coarse ones with which she had provided herself +against suspicion were laid aside. If any one came into her room while she +was gone, he would find no fine French embroidery to tell tales. Also, she +wished to feel as much like herself as possible, and she never could feel +quite that in her cheap outfit. True, she had no finer outer garments +than a cheap black flannel skirt and coat which she had bought with the +first money she could spare, but they were warm, and answered for what she +had needed. She had not bought a hat, and had nothing now to wear upon her +head but the black felt that belonged to the man she was going to meet. +She looked at herself pityingly in the tiny mirror, and wondered if the +young man would understand and forgive? It was all she had, any way, and +there would be no time to go to the store and buy another before the +appointed hour, for the family had brought unexpected company to a late +lunch and kept her far beyond her hour for going out. + +She looked down dubiously at her shabby shoes, their delicate kid now +cracked and worn. Her hands were covered by a pair of cheap black silk +gloves. It was the first time that she had noticed these things so keenly, +but now it seemed to her most embarrassing to go thus to meet the man who +had helped her. + +She gathered her little hoard of money to take with her, and cast one +look back over the cheerless room, with a great longing to bid it farewell +forever, and go back to the world where she belonged; yet she realized +that it was a quiet refuge for her from the world that she must hereafter +face. Then she closed her door, went down the stairs and out into the +street, like any other servant on her afternoon out, walking away to meet +whatever crisis might arise. She had not dared to speculate much about the +subject of the coming interview. It was likely he wanted to inquire about +her comfort, and perhaps offer material aid. She would not accept it, of +course, but it would be a comfort to know that some one cared. She longed +inexpressibly for this interview, just because he had been kind, and +because he belonged to that world from which she had come. He would keep +her secret. He had true eyes. She did not notice soft, padded feet that +came wobbling down the street after her, and she only drew a little +further out toward the curbing when a blear-eyed, red face peered into +hers as she stood waiting for the car. She did not notice the shabby man +who boarded the car after she was seated. + +Tryon Dunham stood in the great stone doorway, watching keenly the passing +throng. He saw the girl at once as she got out of the car, but he did not +notice the man in the baggy coat, who lumbered after her and watched with +wondering scrutiny as Dunham came forward, lifted his hat, and took her +hand respectfully. Here was an element he did not understand. He stood +staring, puzzled, as they disappeared into the great building; then +planted himself in a convenient place to watch until his charge should +come out again. This was perhaps a gentleman who had come to engage her to +work for him. She might be thinking of changing her place. He must be on +the alert. + +Dunham placed two chairs in the far corner of the inner parlor, where they +were practically alone, save for an occasional passer through the hall. He +put the girl into the most comfortable one, and then went to draw down the +shade, to shut a sharp ray of afternoon sunlight from her eyes. She sat +there and looked down upon her shabby shoes, her cheap gloves, her coarse +garments, and honored him for the honor he was giving her in this attire. +She had learned by sharp experience that such respect to one in her +station was not common. As he came back, he stood a moment looking down +upon her. She saw his eye rest with recognition upon the hat she wore, and +her pale cheeks turned pink. + +"I don't know what you will think of my keeping this," she said shyly, +putting her hand to the hat, "but it seemed really necessary at the time, +and I haven't dared spend the money for a new one yet. I thought perhaps +you would forgive me, and let me pay you for it some time later." + +"Don't speak of it," he broke in, in a low voice. "I am so glad you could +use it at all. It would have been a comfort to me if I had known where it +was. I had not even missed it, because at this time of year I have very +little use for it. It is my travelling hat." + +He looked at her again as though the sight of her was good to him, and his +gaze made her quite forget the words she had planned to say. + +"I am so glad I have found you!" he went on. "You have not been out of my +thoughts since I left you that night on the train. I have blamed myself +over and over again for having gone then. I should have found some way to +stand by you. I have not had one easy moment since I saw you last." + +His tone was so intense that she could not interrupt him; she could only +sit and listen in wonder, half trembling, to the low-spoken torrent of +feeling that he expressed. She tried to protest, but the look in his face +stopped her. He went on with an earnestness that would not be turned aside +from its purpose. + +"I came to Chicago that I might search for you. I could not stand the +suspense any longer. I have been looking for you in every way I could +think of, without openly searching, for that I dared not do lest I might +jeopardize your safety. I was almost in despair when I went to dine with +Mr. Phillips last evening. I felt I could not go home without knowing at +least that you were safe, and now that I have found you, I cannot leave +you until I know at least that you have no further need for help." + +She summoned her courage now, and spoke in a voice full of feeling: + +"Oh, you must not feel that way. You helped me just when I did not know +what to do, and put me in the way of helping myself. I shall never cease +to thank you for your kindness to an utter stranger. And now I am doing +very well." She tried to smile, but the tears came unbidden instead. + +"You poor child!" His tone was full of something deeper than compassion, +and his eyes spoke volumes. "Do you suppose I think you are doing well +when I see you wearing the garb of a menial and working for people to whom +you are far superior--people who by all the rights of education and +refinement ought to be in the kitchen serving you?" + +"It was the safest thing I could do, and really the only thing I could get +to do at once," she tried to explain. "I'm doing it better every day." + +"I have no doubt. You can be an artist at serving as well as anything +else, if you try. But now that is all over. I am going to take care of +you. There is no use in protesting. If I may not do it in one way, I will +in another. There is one question I must ask first, and I hope you will +trust me enough to answer it. Is there any other--any other man who has +the right to care for you, and is unable or unwilling to do it?" + +She looked up at him, her large eyes still shining with tears, and +shuddered slightly. + +"Oh, no!" she said. "Oh, no, I thank God there is not! My dear uncle has +been dead for four years, and there has never been any one else who cared +since Father died." + +He looked at her, a great light beginning to come into his face; but she +did not understand and turned her head to hide the tears. + +"Then I am going to tell you something," he said, his tone growing lower, +yet clear enough for her to hear every word distinctly. + +A tall, oldish girl with a discontented upper lip stalked through the +hall, glanced in at the door, and sniffed significantly, but they did not +see her. A short, baggy-coated man outside hovered anxiously around the +building and passed the very window of that room, but the shade opposite +them was down, and they did not know. The low, pleasant voice went on: + +"I have come to care a great deal for you since I first saw you, and I +want you to give me the right to care for you always and protect you +against the whole world." + +She looked up, wondering. + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean that I love you, and I want to make you my wife. Then I can defy +the whole world if need be, and put you where you ought to be." + +"Oh!" she breathed softly. + +"Wait, please," he pleaded, laying his hand gently on her little, +trembling one. "Don't say anything until I have finished. I know of course +that this will be startling to you. You have been brought up to feel that +such things must be more carefully and deliberately done. I do not want +you to feel that this is the only way I can help you, either. If you are +not willing to be my wife, I will find some other plan. But this is the +best way, if it isn't too hard on you, for I love you as I never dreamed +that I could love a woman. The only question is, whether you can put up +with me until I can teach you to love me a little." + +She lifted eloquent eyes to his face. + +"Oh, it is not that," she stammered, a rosy light flooding cheek and brow. +"It is not that at all. But you know nothing about me. If you knew, you +would very likely think as others do, and----" + +"Then do not tell me anything about yourself, if it will trouble you. I do +not care what others think. If you have poisoned a husband, I should know +that he needed poisoning, and any way I should love you and stand by you." + +"I have not done anything wrong," she said gravely. + +"Then if you have done nothing wrong, we will prove it to the world, or, +if we cannot prove it, we will fly to some desert island and live there in +peace and love. That is the way I feel about you. I know that you are good +and true and lovely! Any one might as well try to prove to me that you +were crazy as that you had done wrong in any way." + +Her face grew strangely white. + +"Well, suppose I was crazy?" + +"Then I would take you and cherish you and try to cure you, and if that +could not be done, I should help you to bear it." + +"Oh, you are wonderful!" she breathed, the light of a great love growing +in her eyes. + +The bare, prosaic walls stood stolidly about them, indifferent to romance +or tragedy that was being wrought out within its walls. The whirl and hum +of the city without, the grime and soil of the city within, were alike +forgotten by these two as their hearts throbbed in the harmony of a great +passion. + +"Do you think you could learn to love me?" said the man's voice, with the +sweetness of the love song of the ages in its tone. + +"I love you now," said the girl's low voice. "I think I have loved you +from the beginning, though I never dared to think of it in that way. But +it would not be right for me to become your wife when you know practically +nothing about me." + +"Have you forgotten that you know nothing of me?" + +"Oh, I do know something about you," she said shyly. "Remember that I have +dined with your friends. I could not help seeing that they were good +people, especially that delightful old man, the Judge. He looked +startlingly like my dear father. I saw how they all honored and loved you. +And then what you have done for me, and the way that you treated an +utterly defenceless stranger, were equal to years of mere acquaintance. I +feel that I know a great deal about you." + +He smiled. "Thank you," he said, "but I have not forgotten that something +more is due you than that slight knowledge of me, and before I came out +here I went to the pastor of the church of which my mother is a member, +and which I have always attended and asked him to write me a letter. He is +so widely known that I felt it would be an introduction for me." + +He laid an open letter in her lap, and, glancing down, she saw that it was +signed by the name of one of the best known pulpit orators in the land, +and that it spoke in highest terms of the young man whom it named as "my +well-loved friend." + +"It is also your right to know that I have always tried to live a pure and +honorable life. I have never told any woman but you that I loved +her--except an elderly cousin with whom I thought I was in love when I was +nineteen. She cured me of it by laughing at me, and I have been +heart-whole ever since." + +She raised her eyes from reading the letter. + +"You have all these, and I have nothing." She spread out her hands +helplessly. "It must seem strange to you that I am in this situation. It +does to me. It is awful." + +She put her hands over her eyes and shuddered. + +"It is to save you from it all that I have come." He leaned over and spoke +tenderly, "Darling!" + +"Oh, wait!" She caught her breath as if it hurt her, and put out her hand +to stop him, "Wait! You must not say any more until I have told you all +about it. Perhaps when I have told you, you will think about me as others +do, and I shall have to run from you." + +"Can you not trust me?" he reproached her. + +"Oh, yes, I can trust you, but you may no longer trust me, and that I +cannot bear." + +"I promise you solemnly that I will believe every word you say." + +"Ah, but you will think I do not know, and that it is your duty to give me +into the hands of my enemies." + +"That I most solemnly vow I will never do," he said earnestly. "You need +not fear to tell me anything. But listen, tell me this one thing: in the +eyes of God, is there any reason, physical, mental, or spiritual, why you +should not become my wife?" + +She looked him clearly in the eyes. + +"None at all." + +"Then I am satisfied to take you without hearing your story until +afterwards." + +"But I am not satisfied. If I am to see distrust come into your eyes, it +must be now, not afterwards." + +"Then tell it quickly." + +He put out his hand and took hers firmly into his own, as if to help her +in her story. + +[Illustration] + + + + +XI + + +"My father died when I was only a young girl. We had not much money, and +my mother's older brother took us to his home to live. My mother was his +youngest sister, and he loved her more than any one else living. There was +another sister, a half-sister, much older than my mother, and she had one +son. He was a sulky, handsome boy, with a selfish, cruel nature. He seemed +to be happy only when he was tormenting some one. He used to come to +Uncle's to visit when I was there, and he delighted in annoying me. He +stretched barbed wire where he knew I was going to pass in the dark, to +throw me down and tear my clothes. He threw a quantity of burrs in my +hair, and once he led me into a hornet's nest. After we went to live at my +uncle's, Richard was not there so much. He had displeased my uncle, and he +sent him away to school; but at vacation times he came again, and kept the +house in discomfort. He seemed always to have a special spite against me. +Once he broke a rare Dresden vase that Uncle prized, and told him I had +done it. + +"Mother did not live long after Father died, and after she was gone, I had +no one to stand between me and Richard. Sometimes I had to tell my uncle, +but oftener I tried to bear it, because I knew Richard was already a great +distress to him. + +"At last Richard was expelled from college, and Uncle was so angry with +him that he told him he would do nothing more for him. He must go to work. +Richard's father and mother had not much money, and there were other +children to support. Richard threatened me with all sorts of awful things +if I did not coax Uncle to take him back into his good graces again. I +told him I would not say a word to Uncle. He was very angry and swore at +me. When I tried to leave the room he locked the door and would not let me +go until I screamed for help. Then he almost choked me, but when he heard +Uncle coming he jumped out of the window. The next day he forged a check +in my uncle's name, and tried to throw suspicion on me, but he was +discovered, and my uncle disinherited him. Uncle had intended to educate +Richard and start him well in life, but now he would have nothing further +to do with him. It seemed to work upon my uncle's health, all the disgrace +to the family name, although no one ever thought of my uncle in connection +with blame. As he paid Richard's debts, it was not known what the boy had +done, except by the banker, who was a personal friend. + +"We went abroad then, and everywhere Uncle amused himself by putting me +under the best music masters, and giving me all possible advantages in +languages, literature, and art. Three years ago he died at Carlsbad, and +after his death I went back to my music studies, following his wishes in +the matter, and staying with a dear old lady in Vienna, who had been kind +to us when we were there before. + +"As soon as my uncle's death was known at home, Richard wrote the most +pathetic letter to me, professing deep contrition, and saying he could +never forgive himself for having quarrelled with his dear uncle. He had a +sad tale of how the business that he had started had failed and left him +with debts. If he had only a few hundred dollars, he could go on with it +and pay off everything. He said I had inherited all that would have been +his if he had done right, and he recognized the justice of it, but begged +that I would lend him a small sum until he could get on his feet, when he +would repay me. + +"I had little faith in his reformation, but felt as if I could not refuse +him when I was enjoying what might have been his, so I sent him all the +money I had at hand. As I was not yet of age, I could not control all the +property, but my allowance was liberal. Richard continued to send me +voluminous letters, telling of his changed life, and finally asked me to +marry him. I declined emphatically, but he continued to write for money, +always ending with a statement of his undying affection. In disgust, I at +last offered to send him a certain sum of money regularly if he would stop +writing to me on this subject, and finally succeeded in reducing our +correspondence to a check account. This has been going on for three +years, except that he has been constantly asking for larger sums, and +whenever I would say that I could not spare more just then he would begin +telling me how much he cared for me, and how hard it was for him to be +separated from me. I began to feel desperate about him, and made up my +mind that when I received the inheritance I should ask the lawyers to make +some arrangement with him by which I should no longer be annoyed. + +"It was necessary for me to return to America when I came of age, in order +to sign certain papers and take full charge of the property. Richard knew +this. He seems to have had some way of finding out everything my uncle +did. + +"He wrote telling me of a dear friend of his mother, who was soon to pass +through Vienna, and who by some misfortune had been deprived of a position +as companion and chaperon to a young girl who was travelling. He said it +had occurred to him that perhaps he could serve us both by suggesting to +me that she be my travelling companion on the voyage. He knew I would not +want to travel alone, and he sent her address and all sorts of +credentials, with a message from his mother that she would feel perfectly +safe about me if I went in this woman's guardianship. + +"I really did need a travelling companion, of course, having failed to get +my dear old lady to undertake the voyage, so I thought it could do no +harm. I went to see her, and found her pretty and frail and sad. She made +a piteous appeal to me, and though I was not greatly taken with her, I +decided she would do as well as any one for a companion. + +"She did not bother me during the voyage, but fluttered about and was +quite popular on board, especially with a tall, disagreeable man with a +cruel jaw and small eyes, who always made me feel as if he would gloat +over any one in his power. I found out that he was a physician, a +specialist in mental diseases, so Mrs. Chambray told me, and she talked a +great deal about his skill and insight into such maladies. + +"At New York my cousin Richard met us and literally took possession of us. +Without my knowledge, the cruel-looking doctor was included in the party. +I did not discover it until we were on the train, bound, as I supposed, +for my old home just beyond Buffalo. It was some time since I had been in +New York, and I naturally did not notice much which way we were going. The +fact was, every plan was anticipated, and I was told that all arrangements +had been made. Mrs. Chambray began to treat me like a little child and +say: 'You see we are going to take good care of you, dear, so don't worry +about a thing.' + +"I had taken the drawing-room compartment, not so much because I had a +headache, as I told them, as because I wanted to get away from their +society. My cousin's marked devotion became painful to me. Then, too, the +attentions and constant watchfulness of the disagreeable doctor became +most distasteful. + +"We had been sitting on the observation platform, and it was late in the +afternoon, when I said I was going to lie down, and the two men got up to +go into the smoker. In spite of my protests, Mrs. Chambray insisted upon +following me in, to see that I was perfectly comfortable. She fussed +around me, covering me up and offering smelling salts and eau de cologne +for my head. I let her fuss, thinking that was the quickest way to get rid +of her. I closed my eyes, and she said she would go out to the observation +platform. I lay still for awhile, thinking about her and how much I wanted +to get rid of her. She acted as if she had been engaged to stay with me +forever, and it suddenly became very plain to me that I ought to have a +talk with her and tell her that I should need her services no longer after +this journey was over. It might make a difference to her if she knew it at +once, and perhaps now would be as good a time to talk as any, for she was +probably alone out on the platform. I got up and made a few little changes +in my dress, for it would soon be time to go into the dining-car. Then I +went out to the observation platform, but she was not there. The chairs +were all empty, so I chose the one next to the railing, away from the car +door, and sat down to wait for her, thinking she would soon be back. + +"We were going very fast, through a pretty bit of country. It was dusky +and restful out there, so I leaned back and closed my eyes. Presently I +heard voices approaching, above the rumble of the train, and, peeping +around the doorway, I saw Mrs. Chambray, Richard, and the doctor coming +from the other car. I kept quiet, hoping they would not come out, and they +did not. They settled down near the door, and ordered the porter to put up +a table for them to play cards. + +"The train began to slow down, and finally came to a halt for a longer +time on a sidetrack, waiting for another train to pass. I heard Richard +ask where I was. Mrs. Chambray said laughingly that I was safely asleep. +Then, before I realized it, they began to talk about me. It happened there +were no other passengers in the car. Richard asked Mrs. Chambray if she +thought I had any suspicion that I was not on the right train, and she +said, 'Not the slightest,' and then by degrees there floated to me through +the open door the most diabolical plot I had ever heard of. I gathered +from it that we were on the way to Philadelphia, would reach there in a +little while, and would then proceed to a place near Washington, where the +doctor had a private insane asylum, and where I was to be shut up. They +were going to administer some drug that would make me unconscious when I +was taken off the train. If they could not get me to take it for the +headache I had talked about, Mrs. Chambray was to manage to get it into my +food or give it to me when asleep. Mrs. Chambray, it seems, had not known +the entire plot before leaving Europe, and this was their first chance of +telling her. They thought I was safely in my compartment, asleep, and she +had gone into the other car to give the signal as soon as she thought she +had me where I would not get up again for a while. + +"They had arranged every detail. Richard had been using as models the +letters I had written him for the last three years, and had constructed a +set of love letters from me to him, in perfect imitation of my +handwriting. They compared the letters and read snatches of the sentences +aloud. The letters referred constantly to our being married as soon as I +should return from abroad, and some of them spoke of the money as +belonging to us both, and that now it would come to its own without any +further trouble. + +"They even exhibited a marriage certificate, which, from what they said, +must have been made out with our names, and Mrs. Chambray and the doctor +signed their names as witnesses. As nearly as I could make out, they were +going to use this as evidence that Richard was my husband, and that he had +the right to administer my estate during the time that I was incapable. +They had even arranged that a young woman who was hopelessly insane should +take my place when the executors of the estate came to see me, if they +took the trouble to do that. As it was some years since either of them had +seen me, they could easily have been deceived. And for their help Mrs. +Chambray and the doctor were to receive a handsome sum. + +"I could scarcely believe my ears at first. It seemed to me that I must be +mistaken, that they could not be talking about me. But my name was +mentioned again and again, and as each link in the horrible plot was made +plain to me, my terror grew so great that I was on the verge of rushing +into the car and calling for the conductor and porter to help me. But +something held me still, and I heard Richard say that he had just informed +the trainmen that I was insane, and that they need not be surprised if I +had to be restrained. He had told them that I was comparatively harmless, +but he had no doubt that the conductor had whispered it to our +fellow-passengers in the car, which explained their prolonged absence in +the smoker. Then they all laughed, and it seemed to me that the cover to +the bottomless pit was open and that I was falling in. + +"I sat still, hardly daring to breathe. Then I began to go over the story +bit by bit, and to put together little things that had happened since we +landed, and even before I had left Vienna; and I saw that I was caught in +a trap. It would be no use to appeal to any one, for no one would believe +me. I looked wildly out at the ground and had desperate thoughts of +climbing over the rail and jumping from the train. Death would be better +than what I should soon have to face. My persecutors had even told how +they had deceived my friends at home by sending telegrams of my mental +condition, and of the necessity for putting me into an asylum. There would +be no hope of appealing to them for help. The only witnesses to my sanity +were far away in Vienna, and how could I reach them if I were in Richard's +power? + +"I watched the names of the stations as they flew by, but it gradually +grew dark, and I could hardly make them out. I thought one looked like the +name of a Philadelphia suburb, but I could not be sure. + +"I was freezing with horror and with cold, but did not dare to move, lest +I attract their attention. + +"We began to rush past rows of houses, and I knew we were approaching a +city. Then, suddenly, the train slowed down and stopped, with very little +warning, as if it intended to halt only a second and then hurry on. + +"There was a platform on one side of the train, but we were out beyond the +car-shed, for our train was long. I could not climb over the rail to the +platform, for I was sitting on the side away from the station, and would +have had to pass the car door in order to do so. I should be sure to be +seen. + +"On the other side were a great many tracks separated by strong picket +fences as high as the car platform and close to the trains, and they +reached as far as I could see in either direction. I had no time to think, +and there was nothing I could do but climb over the rail and get across +those tracks and fences somehow. + +"My hands were so cold and trembling that I could scarcely hold on to the +rail as I jumped over. + +"I cannot remember how I got across. Twice I had to cling to a fence while +an express train rushed by, and the shock and noise almost stunned me. It +was a miracle that I was not killed, but I did not think of that until +afterwards. I was conscious only of the train I had left standing by the +station. I glanced back once, and thought I saw Richard come to the door +of the car. Then I stumbled on blindly. I don't remember any more until I +found myself hurrying along that dark passage under the bridge and saw you +just ahead. I was afraid to speak to you, but I did not know what else to +do, and you were so good to me----!" Her voice broke in a little sob. + +All the time she had been talking, he had held her hand firmly. She had +forgotten that any one might be watching; he did not care. + +The tall girl with the discontented upper lip went to the matron and told +her that she thought the man and the woman in the parlor ought to be made +to go. She believed the man was trying to coax the girl to do something +she didn't want to do. The matron started on a voyage of discovery up the +hall and down again, with penetrating glances into the room, but the two +did not see her. + +"Oh, my poor dear little girl!" breathed the man. "And you have passed +through all this awful experience alone! Why did you not tell me about +it? I could have helped you. I am a lawyer." + +"I thought you would be on your guard at once and watch for evidences of +my insanity. I thought perhaps you would believe it true, and would feel +it necessary to return me to my friends. I think I should have been +tempted to do that, perhaps, if any one had come to me with such a story." + +"One could not do that after seeing and talking with you. I never could +have believed it. Surely no reputable physician would lend his influence +to put you in an asylum, yet I know such things have been done. Your +cousin must be a desperate character. I shall not feel safe until you +belong to me. I saw two men hanging about Mr. Phillips's house last +evening as I went in. They were looking up at the windows and talking +about keeping a close watch on some one named Mary. One of the men was +tall and slight and handsome, with dark hair and eyes; the other was +Irish, and wore a coat too large for him, and rubbers. I went back later +in the evening, and the Irishman was hovering about the house." + +The girl looked up with frightened eyes and grasped the arms of her chair +excitedly. + +"Will you go with me now to a church not far away, where a friend of mine +is the pastor, and be married? Then we can defy all the cousins in +creation. Can't you trust me?" he pleaded. + +"Oh, yes, but----" + +"Is it that you do not love me?" + +"No," she said, and her eyes drooped shyly. "It seems strange that I dare +to say it to you when I have known you so little." She lifted her eyes, +full of a wonderful love light, and she was glorified to him, all meanly +dressed though she was. The smooth Madonna braids around the shapely head, +covered by the soft felt hat, seemed more beautiful to him than all the +elaborate head-dresses of modern times. + +"Where is the 'but' then, dear? Shall we go now?" + +"How can I go in this dress?" She looked down at her shabby shoes, rough +black gown, and cheap gloves in dismay, and a soft pink stole into her +face. + +"You need not. Your own gown is out in the office in my suit-case. I +brought it with me, thinking you might need it--_hoping_ you might, I +mean;" and he smiled. "I have kept it always near me; partly because I +wanted the comfort of it, partly because I was afraid some one else might +find it, and desecrate our secret with their common-place wondering." + +It was at this moment that the matron of the building stepped up to the +absorbed couple, resolved to do her duty. Her lips were pursed to their +thinnest, and displeasure was in her face. + +The young man arose and asked in a grave tone: + +"Excuse me, but can you tell me whether this lady can get a room here to +rest for a short time, while I go out and attend to a matter of business?" + +The matron noticed his refined face and true eyes, and she accepted with a +good grace the ten-dollar bill he handed to her. + +"We charge only fifty cents a night for a room," she said, glancing at the +humble garments of the man's companion. She thought the girl must be a +poor dependent or a country relative. + +"That's all right," said the young man. "Just let the change help the good +work along." + +That made a distinct change in the atmosphere. The matron smiled, and +retired to snub the girl with the discontented upper lip. Then she sent +the elevator boy to carry the girl's suit-case. As the matron came back to +the office, a baggy man with cushioned tires hustled out of the open door +into the street, having first cast back a keen, furtive glance that +searched every corner of the place. + +"Now," said Dunham reassuringly, as the matron disappeared, "you can go up +to your room and get ready, and I will look after a few little matters. I +called on my friend, the minister, this morning, and I have looked up the +legal part of this affair. I can see that everything is all right in a few +minutes. Is there anything you would like me to do for you?" + +"No," she answered, looking up half frightened; "but I am afraid I ought +not to let you do this. You scarcely know me." + +"Now, dear, no more of that. We have no time to lose. How long will it +take you to get dressed? Will half an hour do? It is getting late." + +"Oh, it will not take long." She caught her breath with gladness. Her +companion's voice was so strong and comforting, his face so filled with a +wonderful love, that she felt dazed with the sudden joy of it all. + +The elevator boy appeared in the doorway with the familiar suit-case. + +"Don't be afraid, dear heart," whispered the young man, as he attended her +to the elevator. "I'll soon be back again, and then, _then_, we shall be +together!" + +It was a large front room to which the boy took her. The ten-dollar bill +had proven effective. It was not a "fifty-cents-a-night" room. Some +one--some guest or kindly patron--had put a small illuminated text upon +the wall in a neat frame. It met her eye as she entered--"Rejoice and be +glad." Just a common little picture card, it was, with a phrase that has +become trite to many, yet it seemed a message to her, and her heart leaped +to obey. She went to the window to catch a glimpse of the man who would +soon be her husband, but he was not there, and the hurrying people +reminded her that she must hasten. Across the street a slouching figure in +a baggy coat looked fixedly up and caught her glance. She trembled and +drew back out of the sunshine, remembering what Dunham had told her about +the Irishman of the night before. With a quick instinct, she drew down the +shade, and locked her door. + +[Illustration] + + + + +XII + + +The rubbered feet across the way hurried their owner into the cigar-store +in front of which he had been standing, and where he had a good view of +the Y.W.C.A. Building. He flung down some change and demanded the use of +the telephone. Then, with one eye on the opposite doorway, he called up a +number and delivered his message. + +"Oi've treed me bird. She's in a room all roight at the Y.W.C.A. place, +fer I seed her at the winder. She come with a foine gintlemin, but he's +gahn now, an' she's loike to stay a spell. You'd best come at once.... All +roight. Hurry up!" He hung up the telephone-receiver and hurried back to +his post in front of the big entrance. Meanwhile the bride-elect upstairs, +with happy heart and trembling fingers, was putting on her own beautiful +garments once more, and arranging the waves of lovely hair in their old +accustomed way. + +Tryon Dunham's plans were well laid. He first called up his friend the +minister and told him to be ready; then a florist not far from the church; +then a large department store where he had spent some time that morning. +"Is that Mr. Hunter, head of the fur department? Mr. Hunter, this is Mr. +Dunham. You remember our conversation this morning? Kindly send the coat +and hat I selected to the Y.W.C.A. Building at once. Yes, just send them +to the office. You remember it was to be C.O.D., and I showed you my +certified check this morning. It's all right, is it? How long will it take +you to get it there?... All right. Have the boy wait if I'm not there. +Good-by." + +His next move was to order a carriage, and have it stop at the florist's +on the way. That done, he consulted his watch. Seventeen minutes of his +precious half-hour were gone. With nervous haste he went into a telephone +booth and called up his own home on the long-distance. + +To his relief, his mother answered. + +"Is that you, Mother? This is Tryon. Are you all well? That's good. Yes, +I'm in Chicago, but will soon be home. Mother, I've something to tell you +that may startle you, though there is nothing to make you sad. You have +known that there was something on my mind for some time." He paused for +the murmur of assent. + +He knew how his mother was looking, even though he could not see her--that +set look of being ready for anything. He wanted to spare her as much as +possible, so he hastened on: + +"You remember speaking to me about the ring I wore?" + +"Tryon! Are you engaged?" There was a sharp anxiety in the tone as it came +through the hundreds of miles of space. + +"One better, Mother. I'm just about to be married!" + +"My son! What have you done? Don't forget the honorable name you bear!" + +"No, Mother, I don't forget. She's fine and beautiful and sweet. You will +love her, and our world will fall at her feet!" + +"But who is she? You must remember that love is very blind. Tryon, you +must come home at once. I shall die if you disgrace us all. Don't do +anything to spoil our lives. I know it is something dreadful, or you would +not do it in such haste." + +"Nothing of the kind, Mother. Can't you trust me? Let me explain. She is +alone, and legal circumstances which it would take too long for me to +explain over the 'phone have made it desirable for her to have my +immediate protection. We are going at once to Edwin Twinell's church, and +he will marry us. It is all arranged, but I felt that you ought to be told +beforehand. We shall probably take the night express for home. Tell +Cornelia that I shall expect congratulations telegraphed to the hotel here +inside of two hours." + +"But, Tryon, what will our friends think? It is most extraordinary! How +can you manage about announcements?" + +"Bother the red tape, Mother! What difference does that make? Put it in +the society column if you want to." + +"But, Tryon, we do not want to be conspicuous!" + +"Well, Mother, I'm not going to put off my wedding at the last minute for +a matter of some bits of pasteboard. I'll do any reasonable thing to +please you, but not that." + +"Couldn't you get a chaperon for her, and bring her on to me? Then we +could plan the wedding at our leisure." + +"Impossible, Mother! In the first place, she never would consent. Really, +I cannot talk any more about it. I must go at once, or I shall be late. +Tell me you will love her for my sake, until you love her for her own." + +"Tryon, you always were unreasonable. Suppose you have the cards engraved +at once, and I will telegraph our list to the engraver if you will give me +his address. If you prefer, you can get them engraved and sent out from +there. That will keep tongues still." + +"All right, I'll do it. I'll have the engraver telegraph his address to +you within two hours. Have your list ready. And, Mother, don't worry. +She's all right. You couldn't have chosen better yourself. Say you will +love her, Mother dear." + +"Oh, I suppose I'll try," sighed the wires disconsolately; "but I never +thought you would be married in such a way. Why, you haven't even told me +who she is." + +"She's all right, Mother--good family and all. I really must hurry----" + +"But what is her name, Tryon?" + +"Say, Mother, I really must go. Ask Mrs. Parker Bowman what she thinks of +her. Good-by! Cheer up, it'll be all right." + +"But, Tryon, her name----" + +The receiver was hung up with a click, and Dunham looked at his watch +nervously. In two minutes his half-hour would be up, yet he must let Judge +Blackwell know. Perhaps he could still catch him at the office. He +sometimes stayed down-town late. Dunham rang up the office. The Judge was +still there, and in a moment his cheery voice was heard ringing out, +"Hello!" + +"Hello, Judge! Is that you?... This is Dunham.... Chicago. Yes, the +business is all done, and I'm ready to come home, but I want to give you a +bit of news. Do you remember the young woman who dined with us at Mrs. +Bowman's and played the piano so well?... Yes, the night I met you.... +Well, you half guessed that night how it was with us, I think. And now she +is here, and we are to be married at once, before I return. I am just +about to go to the church, but I wanted your blessing first." + +"Blessings and congratulations on you both!" came in a hearty voice over +the phone. "Tell her she shall be at once taken into the firm as chief +consultant on condition that she plays for me whenever I ask her." + +A great gladness entered the young man's heart as he again hung up the +receiver, at this glimpse into the bright vista of future possibilities. +He hurried into the street, forgetful of engravers. The half-hour was up +and one minute over. + +In the meantime, the girl had slipped into her own garments once more with +a relief and joy she could scarcely believe were her own. Had it all been +an ugly dream, this life she had been living for the past few months, and +was she going back now to rest and peace and real life? Nay, not going +back, but going forward. The sweet color came into her beautiful face at +thought of the one who, though not knowing her, yet had loved her enough +to take her as she was, and lift her out of her trouble. It was like the +most romantic of fairy tales, this unexpected lover and the joy that had +come to her. How had it happened to her quiet, conventional life? Ah, it +was good and dear, whatever it was! She pressed her happy eyes with her +fluttering, nervous fingers, to keep the glad tears back, and laughed out +to herself a joyful ripple such as she had not uttered since her uncle's +death. + +A knock at the door brought her back to realities again. Her heart +throbbed wildly. Had he come back to her already? Or had her enemy found +her out at last? + +Tryon Dunham hurried up the steps of the Y.W.C.A. Building, nearly +knocking over a baggy individual in rubbers, who was lurking in the +entrance. The young man had seen a boy in uniform, laden with two enormous +boxes, run up the steps as he turned the last corner. Hastily writing a +few lines on one of his cards and slipping it into the largest box, he +sent them both up to the girl's room. Then he sauntered to the door to see +if the carriage had come. It was there. He glanced inside to see if his +orders about flowers had been fulfilled, and spoke a few words of +direction to the driver. Turning back to the door, he found the small, red +eyes of the baggy Irishman fixed upon him. Something in the slouch of the +figure reminded Dunham strongly now of the man he had noticed the night +before, and as he went back into the building he looked the man over well +and determined to watch him. As he sat in the office waiting, twice he saw +the bleary eyes of the baggy man applied to the glass panes in the front +door and as suddenly withdrawn. It irritated him, and finally he strode to +the door and asked the man if he were looking for some one. + +"Just waitin' fer me sweetheart," whined the man, with a cringing +attitude. "She has a room in here, an' I saw her go in a while back." + +"Well, you'd better move on. They don't care to have people hanging around +here." + +The man slunk away with a vindictive glance, and Tryon Dunham went back to +the office, more perturbed at the little incident than he could +understand. + +Upstairs the girl had dared to open her door and had been relieved to find +the elevator boy there with the two boxes. + +"The gentleman's below, an' he says he'll wait, an' he sent these up," +said the boy, depositing his burden and hurrying away. + +She locked her door once more, for somehow a great fear had stolen over +her now that she was again dressed in her own garments and could easily be +recognized. + +She opened the large box and read the card lying on the top: + + These are my wedding gifts to you, dear. Put them on and come as + soon as possible to the one who loves you better than anything + else in life. + + TRYON + +Her eyes shone brightly and her cheeks grew rosy red as she lifted out +from its tissue-paper wrappings a long, rich coat of Alaska seal, with +exquisite brocade lining. She put it on and stood a moment looking at +herself in the glass. She felt like one who had for a long time lost her +identity, and has suddenly had it restored. Such garments had been +ordinary comforts of her former life. She had not been warm enough in the +coarse black coat. + +The other box contained a beautiful hat of fur to match the coat. It was +simply trimmed with one long, beautiful black plume, and in shape and +general appearance was like the hat he had borrowed for her use in the +fall. She smiled happily as she set it upon her head, and then laughed +outright as she remembered her shabby silk gloves. Never mind. She could +take them off when she reached the church. + +She packed the little black dress into the suit-case, folded the felt hat +on the top with a tender pat, and, putting on her gloves, hurried down to +the one who waited for her. + +The matron had gone upstairs to the linen closet and left the girl with +the discontented upper lip in charge in the office. The latter watched the +elegant lady in the rich furs come down the hall from the elevator, and +wondered who she was and why she had been upstairs. Probably to visit +some poor protégée, she thought. The girl caught the love-light in the +eyes of Tryon Dunham as he rose to meet his bride, and she recognized him +as the same man who had been in close converse with the cheaply dressed +girl in the parlor an hour before, and sneered as she wondered what the +fine lady in furs would think if she knew about the other girl. Then they +went out to the carriage, past the baggy, rubbered man, who shrank back +suddenly behind a stone column and watched them. + +As Dunham shut the door, he looked back just in time to see a slight man, +with dark eyes and hair, hurry up and touch the baggy man on the shoulder. +The latter pointed toward their carriage. + +"See!" said Dunham. "I believe those are the men who were hovering around +the house last night." + +The girl leaned forward to look, and then drew back with an exclamation of +horror as the carriage started. + +"Oh, that man is my cousin Richard," she cried. + +"Are you sure?" he asked, and a look of determination settled into his +face. + +"Perfectly," she answered, looking out again. "Do you suppose he has seen +me?" + +"I suppose he has, but we'll soon turn the tables." He leaned out and +spoke a word to the driver, who drew up around the next corner in front of +a telephone pay-station. + +"Come with me for just a minute, dear. I'll telephone to a detective +bureau where they know me and have that man watched. He is unsafe to have +at large." He helped her out and drew her arm firmly within his own. +"Don't be afraid any more. I will take care of you." + +He telephoned a careful description of the two men and their whereabouts, +and before he had hung up the receiver a man had started post-haste for +the Y.W.C.A. Building. + +Then Tryon Dunham put the girl tenderly into the carriage, and to divert +her attention he opened the box of flowers and put a great sheaf of white +roses and lilies-of-the-valley into the little gloved hands. Then, taking +her in his arms for the first time, he kissed her. He noticed the shabby +gloves, and, putting his hand in his breast pocket, drew out the white +gloves she had worn before, saying, "See! I have carried them there ever +since you sent them back! My sister never asked for them. I kept them for +your sake." + +The color had come back into her cheeks when they reached the church, and +he thought her a beautiful bride as he led her into the dim aisle. Some +one up in the choir loft was playing the wedding march, and the minister's +wife and young daughter sat waiting to witness the ceremony. + +The minister met them at the door with a welcoming smile and hand-shake, +and led them forward. As the music hushed for the words of the ceremony, +he leaned forward to the young man and whispered: + +"I neglected to ask you her name, Tryon." + +"Oh, yes." The young man paused in his dilemma and looked for an instant +at the sweet face of the girl beside him. But he could not let his friend +see that he did not know the name of his wife-to-be, and with quick +thought he answered, "Mary!" + +The ceremony proceeded, and the minister's voice sounded out solemnly in +the empty church: "Do you, Tryon, take this woman whom you hold by the +hand to be your lawful wedded wife?" + +The young man's fingers held the timid hand of the woman firmly as he +answered, "I do." + +"Do you, Mary, take this man?" came the next question, and the girl looked +up with clear eyes and said, "I do." + +Then the minister's wife, who knew and prized Tryon Dunham's friendship, +said to herself: "It's all right. She loves him." + +When the solemn words were spoken that bound them together through life, +and they had thanked their kind friends and were once more out in the +carriage, Tryon said: + +"Do you know you haven't told me your real name yet?" + +She laughed happily as the carriage started on its way, and answered, +"Why, it is Mary!" + +As the carriage rounded the first corner beyond the church, two breathless +individuals hurried up from the other direction. One was short and baggy, +and the sole of one rubber flopped dismally as he struggled to keep up +with the alert strides of the other man, who was slim and angry. They had +been detained by an altercation with the matron of the Y.W.C.A. Building, +and puzzled by the story of the plainly dressed girl who had taken the +room, and the fine lady who had left the building in company with a +gentleman, until it was settled by the elevator boy, who declared the two +women to be one and the same. + +A moment later a man in citizen's clothing, who had keen eyes, and who was +riding a motor-cycle, rounded the corner and puffed placidly along near +the two. He appeared to be looking at the numbers on the other side of the +street, but he heard every word that they said as they caught sight of the +disappearing carriage and hurried after it. He had been standing in the +entrance of the Y.W.C.A. Building, an apparently careless observer, while +the elevator boy gave his evidence. + +The motor-cycle shot ahead a few rods, passed the carriage, and discovered +by a keen glance who were the occupants. Then it rounded the block and +came almost up to the two pursuers again. + +When the carriage stopped at the side entrance of a hotel the man on the +motor-cycle was ahead of the pursuers and discovered it first, long enough +to see the two get out and go up the marble steps. The carriage was +driving away when the thin man came in sight, with the baggy man +struggling along half a block behind, his padded feet coming down in +heavy, dragging thuds, like a St. Bernard dog in bedroom slippers. + +One glimpse the pursuers had of their prey as the elevator shot upward. +They managed to evade the hotel authorities and get up the wide staircase +without observation. By keeping on the alert, they discovered that the +elevator had stopped at the second floor, so the people they were tracking +must have apartments there. Lurking in the shadowy parts of the hall, they +watched, and soon were rewarded by seeing Dunham come out of a room and +hurry to the elevator. He had remembered his promise to his mother about +the engravers. As soon as he was gone, they presented themselves boldly at +the door. + +Filled with the joy that had come to her and feeling entirely safe now in +the protection of her husband, Mary Dunham opened the door. She supposed, +of course, it was the bell-boy with a pitcher of ice-water, for which she +had just rung. + +"Ah, here you are at last, my pretty cousin!" It was the voice of Richard +that menaced her, with all the stored-up wrath of his long-baffled search. + +At that moment the man from the motor-cycle stepped softly up the top +stair and slid unseen into the shadows of the hall. + +For an instant it seemed to Mary Dunham that she was going to faint, and +in one swift flash of thought she saw herself overpowered and carried into +hiding before her husband should return. But with a supreme effort she +controlled herself, and faced her tormentor with unflinching gaze. Though +her strength had deserted her at first, every faculty was now keen and +collected. As if nothing unusual were happening, she put out her cold, +trembling fingers, and laid them firmly over the electric button on the +wall. Then with new strength coming from the certainty that some one would +soon come to her aid, she opened her lips to speak. + +"What are you doing here, Richard?" + +"I've come after you, my lady. A nice chase you've led me, but you shall +pay for it now." + +The cruelty in his face eclipsed any lines of beauty which might have been +there. The girl's heart froze within her as she looked once more into +those eyes, which had always seemed to her like sword-points. + +"I shall never go anywhere with you," she answered steadily. + +He seized her delicate wrist roughly, twisting it with the old wrench with +which he had tormented her in their childhood days. None of them saw the +stranger who was quietly walking down the hall toward them. + +"Will you go peaceably, or shall I have to gag and bind you?" said +Richard. "Choose quickly. I'm in no mood to trifle with you any longer." + +Although he hurt her wrist cruelly, she threw herself back from him and +with her other hand pressed still harder against the electric button. The +bell was ringing furiously down in the office, but the walls were thick +and the halls lofty. It could not be heard above. + +"Catch that other hand, Mike," commanded Richard, "and stuff this in her +mouth, while I tie her hands behind her back." + +It was then that Mary screamed. The man in the shadow stepped up behind +and said in a low voice: + +"What does all this mean?" + +The two men, startled, dropped the girl's hands for the instant. Then +Richard, white with anger at this interference, answered insolently: "It +means that this girl's an escaped lunatic, and we're sent to take her +back. She's dangerous, so you'd better keep out of the way." + +Then Mary Dunham's voice, clear and penetrating, rang through the halls: + +"Tryon, Tryon! Come quick! Help! Help!" + +As if in answer to her call, the elevator shot up to the second floor, and +Tryon Dunham stepped out in time to see the two men snatch Mary's hands +again and attempt to bind them behind her back. + +In an instant he had seized Richard by the collar and landed him on the +hall carpet, while a well directed blow sent the flabby Irishman sprawling +at the feet of the detective, who promptly sat on him and pinioned his +arms behind him. + +"How dare you lay a finger upon this lady?" said Tryon Dunham, as he +stepped to the side of his wife and put a strong arm about her, where she +stood white and frightened in the doorway. + +No one had noticed that the bell-boy had come to the head of the stairs +and received a quiet order from the detective. + +In sudden fear, the discomfited Richard arose and attempted to bluff the +stranger who had so unwarrantly interfered just as his fingers were about +to close over the golden treasure of his cousin's fortune. + +"Indeed, sir, you wholly misunderstand the situation," he said to Dunham, +with an air of injured innocence, "though perhaps you can scarcely be +blamed. This girl is an escaped lunatic. We have been searching for her +for days, and have just traced her. It is our business to take her back at +once. Her friends are in great distress about her. Moreover, she is +dangerous and a menace to every guest in this house. She has several times +attempted murder----" + +"Stop!" roared Dunham, in a thunderous voice of righteous anger. "She is +my wife. And you are her cousin. I know all about your plot to shut her up +in an insane asylum and steal her fortune. I have found you sooner than I +expected, and I intend to see that the law takes its full course with +you." + +Two policemen now arrived on the scene, with a number of eager bell-boys +and porters in their wake, ready to take part in the excitement. + +Richard had turned deadly white at the words, "She is my wife!" It was the +death-knell of his hopes of securing the fortune for which he had not +hesitated to sacrifice every particle of moral principle. When he turned +and saw impending retribution in the shape of the two stalwart +representatives of the law, a look of cunning came into his face, and with +one swift motion he turned to flee up the staircase close at hand. + +"Not much you don't," said an enterprising bell-boy, flinging himself in +the way and tripping up the scoundrel in his flight. + +The policemen were upon him and had him handcuffed in an instant. The +Irishman now began to protest that he was but an innocent tool, hired to +help discover the whereabouts of an escaped lunatic, as he supposed. He +was walked off to the patrol wagon without further ceremony. + +It was all over in a few minutes. The elevator carried off the detective, +the policemen, and their two prisoners. The door closed behind Dunham and +his bride, and the curious guests who had peered out, alarmed by the +uproar, saw nothing but a few bell-boys standing in the hall, describing +to one another the scene as they had witnessed it. + +"He stood here and I stood right there," said one, "and the policeman, he +come----" + +The guests could not find out just what had happened, but supposed there +had been an attempted robbery, and retired behind locked doors to see that +their jewels were safely hidden. + +Dunham drew the trembling girl into his arms and tried to soothe her. The +tears rained down the white cheeks as her head lay upon his breast, and he +kissed them away. + +"Oh!" she sobbed, shuddering. "If you had not come! It was terrible, +_terrible_! I believe he would have killed me rather than have let me go +again." + +Gradually his tender ministrations calmed her, but she turned troubled +eyes to his face. + +"You do not know yet that I am all I say. You have nothing to prove it. Of +course, by and by, when I can get to my guardians, and with your help +perhaps make them understand, you will know, but I don't see how you can +trust me till then." + +For answer he brought his hand up in front of her face and turned the +flashing diamond--her diamond--so that its glory caught the single ray of +setting sun that filtered into the hotel window. + +"See, darling," he said. "It is your ring. I have worn it ever since as an +outward sign that I trusted you." + +"You are taking me on trust, though, in spite of all you say, and it is +beautiful." + +He laid his lips against hers. "Yes," he said; "it is beautiful, and it is +best." + +It was very still in the room for a moment while she nestled close to him +and his eyes drank in the sweetness of her face. + +"See," said he, taking a tiny velvet case from his pocket and touching the +spring that opened it. "I have amused myself finding a mate to your stone. +I thought perhaps you would let me wear your ring always, while you wear +mine." + +He lifted the jewel from its white velvet bed and showed her the +inscription inside: "Mary, from Tryon." Then he slipped it on her finger +to guard the wedding ring he had given her at the church. His arm that +encircled her clasped her left wrist, and the two diamonds flashed side by +side. The last gleam of the setting sun, ere it vanished behind the tall +buildings on the west, glanced in and blazed the gems into tangled beams +of glory, darting out in many colored prisms to light the vision of the +future of the man and the woman. He bent and kissed her again, and their +eyes met like other jewels, in which gleamed the glory of their love and +trust. + +THE END. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14632 *** |