diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | 40116-0.txt (renamed from 40116.txt) | 403 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 40116-8.txt | 12001 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 40116-8.zip | bin | 216946 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 40116-h.zip | bin | 286237 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 40116-h/40116-h.htm | 430 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 40116.zip | bin | 216925 -> 0 bytes |
6 files changed, 7 insertions, 12827 deletions
@@ -1,39 +1,4 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Edith and John, by Franklin S. Farquhar - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Edith and John - A Story of Pittsburgh - -Author: Franklin S. Farquhar - -Release Date: July 1, 2012 [EBook #40116] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EDITH AND JOHN *** - - - - -Produced by Charlene Taylor, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - - - +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40116 *** EDITH AND JOHN @@ -3053,7 +3018,7 @@ complicated machinery of a big city, one Jacob Cobb--a short, squatty, round-faced, blue-eyed, clear-complexioned man of business, so far as anybody knew about his worldly affairs. Here his wife Betty, and daughters, Susanna and Marjorie, entertained the eclat of society -according to the a la mode of fashion; and many were the gay parties, +according to the àla mode of fashion; and many were the gay parties, balls and dinners that they gave for the select few constituting their circle of acquaintances. @@ -11636,366 +11601,4 @@ So endeth the story of Edith and John. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Edith and John, by Franklin S. Farquhar -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EDITH AND JOHN *** - -***** This file should be named 40116.txt or 40116.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/0/1/1/40116/ - -Produced by Charlene Taylor, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project -Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you -charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you -do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the -rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose -such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and -research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do -practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is -subject to the trademark license, especially commercial -redistribution. - - - -*** START: FULL LICENSE *** - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project -Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at -http://gutenberg.org/license). - - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy -all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. -If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the -terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or -entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" -or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the -collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an -individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are -located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from -copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative -works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg -are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project -Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by -freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of -this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with -the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by -keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project -Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in -a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check -the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement -before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or -creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project -Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning -the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United -States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate -access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently -whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, -copied or distributed: - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived -from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is -posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied -and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees -or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work -with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the -work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 -through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the -Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or -1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional -terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked -to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the -permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any -word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or -distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version -posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), -you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a -copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon -request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other -form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided -that - -- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is - owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he - has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the - Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments - must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you - prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax - returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and - sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the - address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to - the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." - -- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or - destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium - and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of - Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any - money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days - of receipt of the work. - -- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set -forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from -both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael -Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the -Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm -collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain -"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or -corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual -property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a -computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by -your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with -your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with -the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a -refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity -providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to -receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy -is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further -opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER -WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO -WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. -If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the -law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be -interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by -the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any -provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, -promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, -harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, -that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do -or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm -work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any -Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. - - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers -including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists -because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from -people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. -To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 -and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at -http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent -permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. -Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered -throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at -809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email -business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact -information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official -page at http://pglaf.org - -For additional contact information: - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To -SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any -particular state visit http://pglaf.org - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. -To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate - - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. -unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40116 *** diff --git a/40116-8.txt b/40116-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 3420478..0000000 --- a/40116-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,12001 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Edith and John, by Franklin S. Farquhar - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Edith and John - A Story of Pittsburgh - -Author: Franklin S. Farquhar - -Release Date: July 1, 2012 [EBook #40116] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EDITH AND JOHN *** - - - - -Produced by Charlene Taylor, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - - - - - EDITH AND JOHN - - _A Story of Pittsburgh_ - - _By_ FRANKLIN S. FARQUHAR - - - Copyright 1912 - by - Franklin S. Farquhar - - Published May, 1912 - - Type set by Rush G. Faler & Co., - Linotypers - - Printed by - Commercial Bindery & Printing Co., - Tacoma, Wash. - - - - -EDITH AND JOHN - -_A Story of Pittsburgh_ - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -THE WRECKED UMBRELLA. - - -Fog and smoke and grime hung over the city of Pittsburgh: a thickening -blanket, soggy in its cumbrous pall. The rain came down like gimlets; -the air was savage, miserably embracing; the streets were sodden, muddy, -filthy, with dirty streams babbling along the gutters; the lights -gleamed ghastly, ghostly, hideously, in radiating through the gloom; -water dripped from eave, awning, wire, sign, lamppost--from everything, -spattering, trickling, everlastingly dripping, till the whole world -seemed to be in an advanced stage of the diabetes. It was a gray, grim, -medieval night--a cold, raw, nerve-racking night in November. - -The gleaming forges, the ponderous hammers, the monstrous rolls of the -mills boomed in the distance, sullenly, ceaselessly, like unto the -grumblings of a maddened Tubal Cain irritated beyond endurance. Mill and -factory and boat and shop whistles tooted and screeched and howled -demoniacally, with little agreement as to rhythm. Trains rumbled, cars -rattled, and all manner of conveyances bumped along, over crossings and -grades and Y's, through tunnels, under sheds, through yards, beneath -buildings, over streets, across bridges; some rapidly, some slowly, some -cautiously, some recklessly--all going, coming, hither and yon, with a -remorseless energy, and for an inexorable purpose. A medley of bells -smote the air with a harshness, a sweetness, a madness, that was -startling enough to drive the nervous into a wild panic. The rumble of -cart, the thud of horse, the crack of whip, the tread of feet, the -sound of voice, was a confused mass of noises added to the greater -roaring of the turbulent city of iron and steel. - -Tired, wan women, coarsely dressed; proud, haughty women, fashionably -attired; strips of boys and girls, shivering and chattering, bedraggled -and humped up; horny-handed men, roughly clothed; kid-gloved men, -faultlessly groomed: some with bundles, baskets, dinner-buckets, or -nothing--all hurrying through the elemental dreariness, bending their -way from office, from store, from shop, from mill, from factory to home, -to hotel, to palace, to mansion, to hovel, to downy beds, to straw -pallets, to bunk, to bench, or doorstep; or to place of nightly service, -or to pleasure; to rest and refresh themselves, and await the coming of -another day of toil, or leisure. - - * * * * * - -John Winthrope was a strapping young man but a few months from the -country--aged twenty-two. He had quit his pen and ink and account sheets -at his high desk in the office of Jarney & Lowman as the clock in the -court house tower pealed out six deliberately solemn strokes. He put on -his coat and hat, took up a bundle of reading matter selected for its -quality from that which daily cumbered the desks and waste-baskets, -procured an umbrella from the many that had been left in a rack in one -corner, and went out the door, down the elevator, and into the street. -As rain was falling, he turned up his pantaloons, turned up his coat -collar, raised the umbrella, and joined the throng of hurrying -pedestrians, homeward bound. - -Home! John had no home in the city. He had left his home behind--the -modest, cheaply builded, scantily furnished and illy appointed home of -his parents in the mountains--to come to the city to make his fortune. - -His home now was a "room"--merely a room among a multiplicity of similar -rooms, in between the four angles of plastered walls. His remuneration -as the lowest bookkeeper in the line of such functionaries was -insufficient to purchase more than the most meager accommodations in a -cheap boarding house up Diamond Alley way. - -This room in question was in an ancient brick and timber building, that, -in its earlier days, was an architectural ornament in its stateliness -compared to other business blocks; but by reason of the rapid striding -of modern prosperity, it was long ago left in the vast shades that great -fortunes had reared into iron and concrete, standing by. - -There were only two sides open to the light and air in this low and aged -building--one in front and one on top. In between were three tiers of -small dark rooms, one tier above the other, resembling very much the -little cubes of a concentrated egg case. Two small paned windows looked -drearily into them from the street, on each floor, with a smaller -time-stained window in each resounding hallway. - -The inner rooms were lighted by abbreviated wells dug in from a skylight -on the side adjoining the blank walls of a dizzy skyscraper. And cloudy -and shadowy and dim and cheerless, indeed, was the light let in on the -brightest of days, while on dull days it was nothing more than the -semblance of a waning twilight; so that, if used in day time at all, a -light were needed to make out and clearly discern any object within. - -In one of these dark and inodorous rooms, John Winthrope had his -temporary abiding place. There were in it a cheap iron bed, with musty -smelling tick, sheet and coverlets; a small oak-grained pine washstand, -with such a wavy little mirror hanging over it, that one could not tell, -in looking at himself in it, whether he were a Chinaman, a Greaser, or a -crooked-faced Irishman toiling in the streets; a small bowl, for -washing, and a correspondingly small pitcher, with water in it, sat upon -the shaky stand; a cheap chair, a weak imitation of quartered oak, with -many marks of usage all over it, stood by a little table, also with many -marks of usage on it; a flowered carpet, faded, worn and fretted by the -sure hand of wearing time, covered the floor, with here and there ragged -spots of bareness to enhance the room's impoverishment. - -Leaving the office of Jarney & Lowman on that very disagreeable evening, -as mentioned in the beginning of this chapter, John pushed down the -foggy thoroughfares, with a rain: which seemed to be coming from a -reservoir in the infinite space above: pouring down. The streets were -crowded with people, going in various directions, and jostling each -other with little regard as to manners. Everybody had, apparently, but -one motive, and that was to get somewhere out of the terrors of the -elements. Nobody went with any precision as to plan of action, aiming -only to reach a near or remote destination. - -John pressed along the best he could, with what care that the rain, the -umbrellas and the crowd permitted. He drew his shoulders downward, and -bent forward, leaning against the driving rain, with his umbrella in -front of him. He hugged the buildings closely, stepped rapidly, dodged -from right to left of the other pedestrians, who were attempting the -same artful measures as himself, to keep out of the rain, if that were -possible. - -So absorbed was he in his own behalf, that he did not observe a young -lady approaching, in line with him, with the same absorbing carefulness -as to herself. She had but a moment before stepped from a store, not -perceiving that it was raining hard till she was plodding along through -it. She was also bending forward slightly, picking her way with dainty -but quickly executed steps to get where everybody else was aiming -for--home. Like John, she was unobserving as to the actions of the -fleeing people about her; and it is difficult to tell just how she -expected to keep her feet dry, considering how the water fell, and how -it splashed about. - -Howsoever, the lady, all of a sudden, came to a stop; two ribs of her -umbrella snapped with a loud click, one side flapping down over her -shoulders; her hat flew off as if it had been kicked by an athlete, and -rolled across the swimming pavement into the gutter. She uttered a -little cry of distress, and was in the act of turning around, and -repairing to the store whence she came, when she beheld a young man -performing an ungraceful act in attempting the recovery of her hat. He -was fleeing after it, with upspread umbrella over him, and running and -stopping and reaching for the piece of headgear that seemed determined -to evade his efforts to secure it. Seeing him thus, in his ludicrous -movements, she half smiled, and then decided to await further -developments. - -Securing the hat, finally, after it had started to float away on the -tide of the gutter, John (for that is whom the young man was) returned -with it to her, he himself showing some moiling, like the hat, as a -result of his gallant endeavors. When he approached her, with it in his -hand, she exhibited such an air of respectability and unfeigned -independence that John was fairly startled. - -"Beg your pardon, lady," he said, handing her the hat, bowing as he did -so; "it was an unavoidable accident--or rather the result of my -heedlessness. I beg your pardon." - -The lady stood a short moment confused, hesitating as to whether she -should deign to answer a stranger in the street, any more than to say -"thank you," and acknowledge, lady-like, that she was partly in the -blame, and ask his pardon also; or accept his blunder in good nature, as -he seemed to take it, and go her way. But John's voice was so mild, and -his manner so gentlemanly, that she felt as soon as he had spoken that -she need have no fear of him. - -"Oh, sir," she said, pleasantly, with a laugh; "as much my fault as -yours. Thank you." - -"May I hold your umbrella while you adjust your hat?" he asked, seeing -her dilapidated rain shade, with water streaming off of it on her -shoulders, falling about her head. - -"If you wish, you may," she replied, shyly. "I fear it is about done -for." - -"You may have mine," he returned. "May I take yours?" - -"You may hold it," she answered, as she began to lower it, having her -hat now also in her hand. "My, what a predicament I am in!" - -"Pardon me," he said; "but you will be left in the rain, if I take yours -and you do not accept mine." - -"Why, yes, indeed, I forgot it was raining," she responded, with a laugh -that indicated her confusion. - -"Give it me," he said, as her umbrella shut up tightly. "Will you accept -the protection of mine? The rain is falling hard," he continued, as he -took hers; and then reached as far as possible, without going closer, -holding his over her, and standing himself in the rain. - -"Oh, my, this hat is so soiled and nasty from the street," she said, as -she held it before her in the light of a fog enshrouded street lamp. - -"If you will give it me a moment, I will make an effort to remove some -of the grime," he said, in such a deferential tone that she was moved to -reply: - -"Indeed, sir, I find now I need your assistance, or perhaps I would be -doing a wrong in standing here in the rain with you. I find most men are -gentlemen, though, when a lady is in trouble." - -"Thank you," he returned. "May I take the hat for a moment?" - -She hesitated a second time about accepting his proffered aid, but -finally, becoming more convinced of the futility of aiding herself -alone, said: "You may." - -He then took the hat to clean, and she took the umbrella to hold, and -they both stood together, closely, under his rain protector. While he -cleaned the hat of its smutage, she watched him with some trepidation as -to the propriety of the act. - -When she saw him draw forth his pocket handkerchief and begin, with -delicate carefulness, to mop the slimy accretions from the rich -material, she breathed more easily, and stood as silent noting the -performance as the street lamp that gave forth such an haloic light. -They were both facing the light, he holding the hat in his left hand, -whirling it round and round as he diligently soaked up, with his -handkerchief, the water from it. His head was bent forward, with his -eyes cast directly upon the object of his attention. She glanced up into -his face from time to time, wondering at the strange situation she was -in, and seeing how good a face he had. She was very careful that he did -not catch her throwing furtive glances at him, fearful that he might -think her very bold. John paid no heed to her for the time, so bent was -he in attempting to make courteous amends for his awkwardness. But when -he had so soiled his handkerchief that it would not absorb any more of -the hat's defilement, he raised his eyes to her and said: - -"There!" - -"Thank you," she returned, taking the hat, and handing him his umbrella. -"Will you be so kind as to hold the umbrella while I put on my hat?" - -"With your permission," he replied, with condign simplicity. "I am -delighted to be of service to you for the grievous work I have done this -night," and he took the umbrella again, and held it over her. - -After a few minutes of prodding about her head with two long silver -pins, with something sparkling like diamonds on one end of each, she -said, as she lowered her hands: - -"Now, my umbrella, if you please?" - -"You may have mine," he answered. "Yours is so desolate looking that you -might as well go on your way without one as to attempt to use it again." - -"You are kind, indeed," she replied, with reserve, as she was making an -effort to hoist her wrecked umbrella, which he had turned over to her, -but still standing under his. - -She was now facing the lamp that was feebly radiating down upon them, -and he could see, plainly enough, that she was pretty. He had divined as -much, however, basing his divination upon her beautifully modulated and -sweet voice, which he thought could accompany no other than blue eyes, -rosy cheeks and cupid lips. - -"Will you accept mine?" he asked again, seeing she was having trouble in -raising her own to a due and rigid uprightness. - -"To whom shall I return it, should I accept it?" she asked. - -"Oh, never mind its return," he replied. - -"Then I shall not accept it," she insisted. - -"If you insist on returning it, then to the office of Jarney & Lowman," -he answered. - -"Why, what have you to do with that firm?" she asked, with surprise. - -"I am one of the bookkeepers in the office of that firm," he answered, -hesitatingly, for her tone of surprise was such that he could not guess -its meaning. - -"Ha, ha, ha!" she laughed. "It seems so ridiculous in me standing here -this soggy night, feeling so fearful all the while that I might have -fallen into the hands of a ruffian! Ha, ha, ha! I must tell papa as soon -as I get home. Such a strange coincidence one never heard of before!" - -The pleasant demeanor of the young lady, so suddenly taken on, set John -to staring at her, now in a great quandary, now in mingled confusion and -hesitancy as to what to say further. - -"To whom have I the honor of being so unceremoniously introduced on such -an aqueous night?" he asked. - -"Why, I am Edith Jarney, daughter of Hiram Jarney," she replied, with so -much more confidence in herself that she felt she would not now hesitate -to be on friendly terms with this humble worker in her father's office. -"And your name?" she was emboldened to ask. - -"John Winthrope," he blurted out, a little flustrated over the turn the -accidental meeting had taken. - -"Mr. Winthrope," she said, extending her hand; "I am very glad to know -you, and to know that you are an employe of my father." As he took her -gloved hand, she continued, "yes, with your permission, I will accept -your umbrella; but it seems so ungracious for me to do so. What will you -do without one, and the rain coming down so?" - -"I have not far to go," he answered. - -He pressed her hand lightly, while she held his firmly and sincerely in -her effort to impress upon him how very thankful she was for his -kindness. - -"It gives me pleasure, indeed, Miss Jarney," he returned, looking -steadily at her, "to assist you. I hope I may have the further pleasure -of seeing you again, some day; but I can hardly expect that--" - -"Why not?" she interrupted. - -"--unless it should be by chance," he finished, releasing her hand. - -"Mr. Winthrope, really, I have enjoyed our accidental tete-a-tete," she -pursued. "When we first ran together, I was somewhat angered, as I had a -right to be, at your awkwardness; but when I saw you running for my hat, -and when I heard you speak, and when you offered to aid me in my -distress, all fear left me. I felt that a gentleman was at hand to -mollify the grievous circumstance. Now, you know what I think of you." - -"Thank you," he replied, bowing, with considerable condescension, for -her praiseworthy remarks. - -"I would like to prolong our now quite interesting little episode, were -it possible," she said, with more earnestness in her feelings than he -could believe; "but this horrid night is already sending the shivers -through me, and I am beginning to realize that, should we stand here -longer, the rain will have, soaked us through and through." - -John gasped at this reassuring confidence and interest in himself. He -would have asked her, as a matter of continuing his courtesy, to -accompany her to her home, or to some convenient point for her to take a -taxicab; but recognizing his station in life was not on a plain with -hers, he could not conscientiously attempt to ingratiate himself into -her favor, let alone asking the pleasure of her company homeward. He -felt it would be exceedingly bold and entirely out of place for him, -being as he was poor, to make such a dubious request of her. But still -she remained continuing the conversation. And the rain still came -pouring down. - -"I assure you, Miss Jarney," he did say at last, "I have, since I came -to know you, never enjoyed anything so monumentally humorous as this -affair; and I would have been greatly disappointed on it, and weightily -embarrassed over it, had you not have taken my umbrella, even though I -had not learned your name, nor ever expected to see you again." - -"That is very clever in you," she replied, with the sweetest little -chuckle, being amused at the simplicity of his manner and loftiness of -his speech. "The eloquence of your deportment cannot be improved on." - -"Thank you, Miss Jarney, for your kind opinion," he answered. - -Still Edith Jarney stood, on this cold, gloomy, miserable November -evening, talking to this young man from the mountains, who was without -money, or fame, or glory, or name, except that which his good parents -had bestowed upon him--this young man alone in a big city, with a -multitude of others in the struggle for existence, and she so rich. - -And still she talked on with this unassuming country youth, emboldened -to the act by the strange hand of chance that should bring her to it, -and by the novelty of the situation, and by some other unfathomable -mystery that caused her to see in him something more than usual, -continuing to intimate the while that she was loath to forego further -indulgence in their very entertaining meeting; and she so rich, and he -so poor. But as all happy events in one's life must have an ending, she -at length said, while the rain still kept pouring down: - -"Mr. Winthrope, I must express my sincere regret that the time and place -are inappropriate for a continuance of our very, very pleasant talk on -this highly felicitous event, as it has turned out to be." - -Again she extended her hand, and still the rain came beating down as -before. He took it, and pressed it more firmly, and she permitted him to -hold it as he said: - -"The pleasure is not all yours, Miss Jarney, I assure you. Were I--were -I equal to the occasion, which I can never hope to be, I might ask the -pleasure of accompanying you--part way at least--through this soaking -night to your home, or to your nearest friends. But I shall not ask it -of you." - -"Good bye," she replied, with some disappointment, it appeared to him, -as he released her hand. - -"Good bye," he returned; and they parted. - -She turned, and disappeared, like a spectre, into the depths of the -grayish shroud of the melancholy night. - -He turned a corner, lost his way in the hurrying crowd, and drew up -eventually at a restaurant. After refreshing himself, he returned to the -street again, and plodded on, with the broken umbrella over him, through -the dampage to his cold and dimly lighted chamber--there to sleep, and -dream, perhaps, of a fair young face, miles and miles above his station -in life. - -And the rain beat down above him with the same homely sound, it seemed, -as it did in the past, upon the roof above his chamber in his mountain -home. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -AT THE MANSION ON THE HILL. - - -In Highland avenue, far removed from the crowded thoroughfares, the -congested tenements, the cheap homes of the middle class, the rush and -roar of industry--out where the wind and sun (when they combine together -to have a sky cleaning and an air purification) first lay hold with -brush and broom and water to scour away the smokage of the manufactories -of wealth--stands a mansion. - -It is a dull gray mansion on a hill, with an outlook to the four -winds--over every hill and valley, park, suburb, town and -community--embracing everything that a prospect could possibly be -endowed with. Standing alone in a small private park, studded with oaks, -beech and maple trees, and brightened by a sward faultlessly maintained, -with gently sloping hillsides, rockeries, aquariums and flower beds, and -winding paths and roads and byways, it impresses one not much unlike -that of same landed member of nobility when men were masters of men even -with less harshness than now. - -It does not resemble an ancient castle. It does not resemble a manor -house of England. It resembles nothing at all that ever was in the way -of abode of men. It resembles more the newer ideas of builders put into -stone and mortar and glass--a conglomeration of the old styles blended -into one more modern, more pleasing to the eye, more harmonious with the -colors of the air, the trees, the fields and all things -around--representing the craft and graft and greed of men of this age. - -Without, on this November day, it seemed to be forsaken, cold, damp, -dull, forbidding, sombre in every delineation of its outline, rearing -through the haze of smoke and fog and rain like a stranded Adamaster in -a sea of penury, misery and woe, with the lesser lights of affluence -beaming dimly in its neighborhood. But within, there were the warmth of -the tropics, the effulgence of the Riviera, the glitter of the Orient, -the polish of the court of France in the hey-day of its kings, the -laughter of youth, the smile of the aged, the cheer of the domestic, and -over all the atmosphere of those brought into the world to conquer among -men in the science of business. - -This is the home of Hiram Jarney of the firm of Jarney & Lowman, makers -of iron and steel. Here lived Miss Edith Jarney, the only child. She was -twenty-two, tall, willowy, graceful. She was raised as became a daughter -of a man of wealth; but she was not spoiled. She was not a sham, as many -such young ladies are. She was not affected. She was level-headed, -self-possessed, modest, kind, beautifully unselfish, lovable, very -handsome, very noble. - -Mrs. Jarney was a buxom woman still, although gray was sprinkled well -through her hair. She must have been handsome when young, for yet her -cheeks were rosy, with the refining marks of motherhood toning them down -to the fading point. She was bouncing in her manner, lofty in her -speech, pleasant in her smile, and a little haughty in her bearing, but -always cheerful. She had come up from adversity with her husband, -climbing the ladder of success side by side with him, adjusting herself -to each rung as the dangers of the height increased, till at last she -sat, with him, on the top, and scornfully, although not willfully, cast -disparaging glances on those below seeking her altitudinous -environments. - -The husband and father, Hiram Jarney, was a tall, clean-cut business -man, proud, vain, nice, neat, with a monumental ambition to accomplish -in every purpose he set out to do. And he had accomplished many. - -When Edith Jarney took the taxicab for her home, after parting with -John Winthrope in the rain, she was in great good humor all the way, and -for some hours after arriving at her domicile. Thinking little of the -wet condition of her clothing, or her hat, or her shoes, or anything -else, she leaned back on the soft, dry cushions of the cab and laughed -and laughed, time after time, over the singular episode with that young -man. In truth, it raised her sense of risibility to such a degree so -often that she had to hold her sides for the pain of laughing. - -Nothing in all her short and interesting life appealed to her as so -ridiculous, nothing so amusing, nothing so ludicrous, nothing so out of -the ordinary, nothing so new, nothing so out of the common run of -happenings in her daily ins and outs, as her encounter with this -unspoiled youth of the mountains. And the more she thought of it, the -more she laughed over her own discomposure, over the cheerful attitude -she had assumed toward him, over her apparent boldness, over her clever -mastery of a situation made possible only by the cheerless night. - -Indeed, so forcibly was she impressed with the affair that she began -already, while riding in the cab, to write the incident down in the -tablet of her memory as one of the most extraordinary events of her -life. And more--the longer she thought of it, the more impressed she was -with John Winthrope. His politeness, his bearing, his voice, his face, -his size, appealed to her young idea of what constituted proper -proportions in a good young man. She gave no thought of him being a poor -employe of her father; she gave no thought whether he was possessed with -worldly riches; she gave no thought as to whether he had blooded -ancestry; or who, or what he was, any more than that he appeared to be -above the stuff of the average man with whom she had previously come in -contact. - -"Ah, he must be a good young man," she said, almost aloud, during one of -her oft recurring spells of happiness. "He cannot be so bad," she -thought, "when he was so good to me. But still--" - -The taxicab was at her home. The door was opened by the chauffeur, who -had raised her umbrella, and was standing waiting for her at the door. -It took a word from him to rouse her from her meditation. - -"Oh, are we home?" she said, as she bounded out. She grasped the -umbrella, and ran up the pathway to the big piazza of the mansion. - -She was so gleeful that she bolted toward the door, which was not opened -soon enough to suit her impetuous haste to get within; and when it was -opened, she rushed in, forgetting to lower the umbrella. This action -caused the footman to look aghast at the dripping water and her much -bedraggled skirts. And not till she had gone to the center of the big -reception room, and had left a trail of water behind on the polished -floors and turkish rugs, on curtains, chairs and settees, much to their -ruination, did she notice her absentmindedness. - -"Why, Edith!" exclaimed her mother, with uplifted hands. - -"Oh, mamma! mamma!" exclaimed Edith, out of breath, almost. - -"What is the matter, Edith?" asked her mother, excitedly, as she came -rushing toward her from her cozy corner, where she had been embowered -this dreary night, among richly-scented cushions. "One would think it -raining in here, Edith, from the way your umbrella is shedding water. -Put it down, and explain yourself, Edith!" - -"My, oh, my," laughed Edith, for the first time realizing that she was -still carrying the umbrella. - -"What is it, Edith? What has happened?" continued her mother. "My! Your -clothing are so wet! What has happened to that hat?" - -"Enough for one night, mamma--enough," returned Edith, now lowering the -umbrella, and looking it over searchingly--at the handle, at the -material, at the ferrule, at the tassel, at the "J. W." on the silver -plated strip that formed a narrow ring around the briar root handle. -Then, without answering her mother definitely, she went into the great -hall and deposited "J. W.'s" rain shade into a glistening receptacle of -pottery with a dragon's head looking viciously at her from one side. - -"Mamma! Mamma!" she exclaimed, joyfully, with soiled hat, wet coat and -soaked shoes still on. - -"What is it, Edith? Do tell me! What has happened?" questioned her -mother for the third time, as she stood with her hands clasped before -her in expectation of hearing something terrible, and wringing them -sometimes to give vent to her wrought up feelings. - -"I had a most extraordinary experience this evening, mamma," answered -Edith, slowly pulling off her wet gloves that seemed to want to adhere -to the flesh. Edith was looking down at her hands, with a very pleasant -smile lighting up her face, which she turned into gyratory expressions -now and then as she pulled and jerked at the clinging glove fingers. - -"Tell me, Edith--tell me quickly, before something happens to me," said -her mother, now impatient at Edith's slowness. - -"It was such an extraordinary affair, mamma," answered Edith, finally -getting off her gloves, and then reaching up to remove her hat, "that I -am still all excited about it, mamma--and the old hat is ruined--call -the maid to assist me into dry clothing--look at that hat, mamma; it -fell into the gutter," and she turned it round and round, just as John -had done, looking at it admiringly--not that she admired it for its -beauty in its present condition, oh, no; but for something else; and she -touched it in several spots with her little bare hands, which she could -not forbore doing on any other occasion. - -"Edith! Why are you so procrastinating? I cannot tolerate your delay -longer! Answer me! What has happened?" demanded the little bouncing -mother, with some pretention toward exasperation. - -"Oh, mamma," answered Edith, with charming affection, "I will, I will, -if you will only give me time. It was such an extraordinary event that I -want plenty of breath to proceed with the story. Nothing serious has -happened, mamma--but it was unusual." - -"Go to your room, Edith, and then return to me with changed clothing, -and tell me what it is that excites you so," said her mother, now -reconciled and satisfied that her daughter had not met with any serious -mishap. - -Edith, thereupon, kissed her mother, fondly patted her cheek, and then, -when her maid came, tripped lightly to her dressing room. - -"Sarah, I never before felt like doing things for myself as I do now," -said Edith to her maid, as she sat down to have her shoes removed. - -"And would you?" meekly asked the maid, looking up at her mistress. - -"Indeed, I would," returned Edith. "I would commence to learn at once -were it not for giving offense to my parents." - -"And leave me without my lady to wait on and love?" asked the maid, -apprehensive of her position. "I could not bear it, dear lady. Why, Miss -Edith, I have been with you since you were a teeny baby, and I love you -so that I imagine sometimes you are my own dear child." - -"Never mind, Sarah; don't be alarmed," returned Edith. "I will keep you -if I do learn to wait on myself. But I was thinking, Sarah, that you -cannot always tell what might happen. Every one of we mortals is a -possible subject for the poorhouse; and if it should come to anything -like that I should want to know how to bear my own burdens." - -"Don't tell me, Edith," cried Sarah, now alarmed, "that it has come to -that!" - -"Oh, no, indeed, Sarah," replied Edith, consolingly. "At least not that -I know of anything of the kind as being likely to happen. But that was -not it, Sarah--not it--why, what am I saying?--it is something else." - -Sarah looked up quickly at Edith. Edith was half serious, half mirthful -in the little laugh that followed her words. And she toyed with Sarah's -graying hairs. - -"Edith, are you keeping any secrets from me?" asked the suspicious -Sarah. - -"Now, Sarah, do not be cross with me, will you, if I tell you?" asked -Edith, with some hesitancy about revealing what had so recently happened -to give her such a wonderful new vision of life. - -"Never--never, Edith--unless you say," promised Sarah. - -"I met the finest young man this evening, Sarah," began Edith, slowly, -blushingly, still toying with Sarah's hair, Sarah still being on her -knees before her mistress. "There--I have let it out! Now, don't you -tell, Sarah. No, of course, you will not?" - -"Since you have forbidden any of the young bloods of your own set coming -to see you, I am anxious to know just where you got your 'finest young -man,'" said Sarah, sarcastically. - -"I found him!" - -"Is he rich?" asked Sarah. - -"Never thought of that!" - -"Where did you find him, Edith?" - -"Bumped into him in the streets--now, don't scold me, Sarah!" - -"Why, Edith!" exclaimed Sarah, rising, and holding up her hands, and -opening wide her prudish eyes. Sarah's sense of the proper fitness of -things old-maidenishly would not permit her even to meditate on such a -horrible deed. - -"Do not be unduly alarmed, Sarah," calmly remarked Edith. "It was an -accident--oh, such an extraordinary accident, Sarah, and so ridiculous -on my part that I still feel the effects of it on my mirthful nature." - -"Tell me all about it, my dear Edith?" said Sarah, now buttoning up the -back of Edith's dinner gown. - -"If you will not tell--promise?" - -"You have my promise, Edith; but you wouldn't keep such a secret from -your mother, would you?" - -"I do not want to, Sarah; but I am afraid, if I tell her, she will scold -me." - -"Now, what did you do, Edith?" asked Sarah. - -"Stood in the rain the longest time talking to the strange young man." - -"Why, Edith!" exclaimed Sarah, for the fifth or sixth time. - -"No why about it, Sarah. It was an unavoidable accident. I ran into him, -he into me. My hat fell off, rolled into the gutter, and my umbrella was -rendered limp in one of its poor wings. Now, could I help that, Sarah?" - -"Perhaps not." - -"Well, he recovered my hat, held his umbrella over me while I put it on -again, gave me his umbrella and he took my crippled one." - -"Is that all?" - -"We talked some." - -"Talked? Good gracious!" - -"Yes, talked, Sarah--really talked." - -"Why, Edith!" - -"Now, Sarah, be sensible, and listen. He was so polite, so courteous--" - -"They're all that way," interrupted Sarah, a man hater. - -"--but him," returned Edith, not meaning it in the same sense that -Sarah did. "I was going to say, Sarah, that I could not resist his good -face." - -"Who is he?" asked Sarah, coldly. - -"John Winthrope!" - -"What does he do?" - -"Works in my father's office!" - -"Lordy!" exploded Sarah at this revelation, for really Sarah was the -snob instead of Edith. "And you stopped to talk with him in the street?" - -"Sarah, you are mean--real mean--cruel, exasperating. Sarah, I will have -nothing more to do with you, if you talk that way any more! I will get a -new maid, or have none at all--that I will, Sarah! Now, take your -choice!" - -This from Edith, who was usually so calm, so even tempered, and so -reasonable in all matters. But Sarah had aroused her dormant nature by -such a reference to class distinction, that Edith, in her liberal way of -looking at the world in general, could not reconcile Sarah's views with -justice, if each human being concerned was equally endowed morally, -physically and mentally. - -"I will say no more, Edith," humbly surrendered the prudent Sarah. - -Dinner was announced, and Edith descended to the brilliancy of the great -dining room, where her parents were awaiting her arrival to be seated -with them. Edith was charming in her changed habiliment. Could John but -see her now! But John had no password as yet to this rich home. - -"Now, Edith, to the story," said Mrs. Jarney, after they had seated -themselves around the sumptuously provided table. - -"What is that?" asked Mr. Jarney, looking at his wife, and for the first -time getting an inkling of Edith's experiences, then turning his eyes -questioningly upon Edith. - -"Nothing serious, papa," said Edith, noting that he was surprised over -the manner in which her mother had put the question. - -"Well, then, dear Edith, go on," said her father, in his usually kind -tone. - -"Promise, papa, that you will not be hard on me?" pressed Edith. - -"As long as you have done no wrong, Edith, I promise," he replied. - -Then Edith related her tale, down to the minutest detail, even as to how -it affected her afterwards--except that she kept the impression that it -left upon her heart as her own inviolable secret. - -"Edith," said her father, after she had finished, and after he had -pondered a few moments over the possible effect on the young man in the -office, and after smiling and laughing heartily, "Edith, it certainly is -a peculiar coincidence. I am glad to know the party turned out to be our -newest addition to the office force, and not a ruffian." - -This ended the general conversation about John Winthrope. None of them -considered the event in any other light than if she had had a similar -encounter with the ash-man--except Edith. But still they did not cease -referring to the matter occasionally for some time, for after all they -could not help but marvel on it. - -Edith was unusually cheerful after she found her parents were not vexed. -She sang and played on the piano, read a few pages in a novel, talked, -laughed, went up and down the rooms, wondering, wondering what it was -that agitated her so and raised her spirits to such a high tension. - -Finally, after what appeared to be an age in passing, she became weary, -and went to bed, to sleep, and dream, perhaps, of a fair young man, -miles and miles below her station in life. - -And the rain beat down upon the roof above her with the same homely -sound as it beat down upon the roofs above all mankind that night. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -THE OLD JUNK SHOP. - - -The rusty perspective of a four story building rises in the midst of -many similarly nondescript structures, between Wood and Liberty streets, -looking out over the cobblestoned wharf skirting the Monongahela river, -flowing lazily by. - -It was builded in the days when it was a lofty office building: when its -three flights of darkened stairs were mounted by leg muscle: in the days -when its little windows were barn-doors of undimmed light, and the -panes were of minimum size for economy sake: in the days when the -steamboat trade was a valuable asset of the river front merchants: in -the days when men fought in the merry war of competition, and when life -was not so strenuous as it is now: in the days when its name stood -prominently among the business blocks in the city directory. But now it -has no resemblance to its former self; it makes no impression on the -passer-by, unless he be the curious delving into ancient lore; it is -silently languishing into the past, waiting for the strong arm of -Progress to raze it to the ground for something more imposing in its -place. - -Here, in the past, were offices on the upper floors devoted to the -exclusive use of professional men; while on the ground floor, for years, -a merchant held sway with an assortment of merchandise that equaled in -variety, if not in quantity, the great department stores of the present. - -Where the store was, there is a junk shop now, and it is called The Die. -In it may be found, collected together in an heterogeneous mass, a -miscellaneous lot of rubbish that even the bearish-like proprietor -himself wonders, sometimes, where it all comes from, and whither it all -goes. Here may be found the worn out and cast off articles of rivermen: -boatmen, wharfmen, raftsmen, and every other class of men who ply their -trade in, on, and about the water. Here may be found an indeterminable -assortment of wearing apparel, for all ages of men, women and children, -in all conditions of wear and tear, from a riverman's oiled coat, with -greasy spots upon it and burned holes in many places in it, to a worn -out pair of infantine shoes. Here may be found a hecatomb of articles of -the household, of the store, of the office, of the hotel, of the church, -of the school, of the cemetery, of the railway yards, of the building of -justice, of jail, of penitentiary--from every place, almost--all telling -a tale of grandeur, of poverty, of happiness, of misery; of pride, of -modesty, of virtue; of honor, of dishonor; of sickness, pain and death. - -The keeper of this shop, at this period in this narrative, was Peter -Dieman--a red-jowled, pig-eyed, sharp-nosed, dirty-mouthed, -frowsy-headed, big-bellied American, whose ancestry may be determined by -his name. A glance into his gloomy place was enough to convince the most -unobserving that he was specially adapted to his established trade of -buying and selling all manner of second-hand goods, ranging in value -from a penny to the enormous sum of one great American Eagle; and -seldom, if ever, did anything go above the latter figure, when he was -the purchaser; but when he was the seller--that was different. - -In the rear of the darksome room, on the ground floor, there was a -little cubby-hole built around a little window that opened on the rear -street. The window was so begrimed with dust and cobwebs that it was -necessary, even on the brightest days, to keep a sixteen candle power -incandescent globe going continually to furnish sufficient light for the -proprietor to see himself, and enable him to scribble down his accounts, -what few he kept in books. In this gruesome little office Peter sat, -from early morning to late night, smoking his foul smelling pipe, -receiving his cash from sales, and also receiving the people who did not -call on strictly commercial affairs; and betimes he peered through a -smoky glass-covered square hole that perforated one side of the thin -partition that circled him about, into the store, watching, with -squinting eyes, Eli Jerey, his clerk, dealing out the junk to the poor -purchasers. - -Peter Dieman was a fiend incarnate, after money. He was avaricious to -the core. He was relentlessly pressing in the collection of overdue -bills, and heartlessly "jewing" in the purchase of the worn-out, -worm-eaten, moth-ravaged articles that he gathered up, in his rounds, -from the unfortunates, the n'er-do-wells, the hopeless mortals who had -to sacrifice their goods and chattels to make ends meet; or who, -peradventure, were glad to dispose of any cumbersome article of their -more prosperous days. Further, besides being a close dealer, he was a -shaver of notes, a conscienceless dealer without regard whatever for the -principles of justice, or the duties of a citizen, or the honor of the -brethren of his tribe of men. And still further, he was so selfishly -constituted that no barterer could ever equal him in his surprisingly -pronounced talents for cheating, filching and over-charging. Without -education, and alone, on his own initiative, and through his own -painstaking, persistent, persevering efforts he arose from nothing to, -what would be considered by many, a state of enviable affluence for his -station in the ranks of the commercial men of the city. - -He could neither read nor write when he started out for himself on the -road of life; but by dint of much endeavor he learned to write by rote, -like a blind man, and talk by imitation, like a parrot. For many years -he was his own buyer, his own seller, his own bookkeeper, his own handy -man and henchman. But when he had accumulated a world of experience, a -great quantity of junk, a large sum of money, and the desire to be an -expert ward heeler, he hired Eli Jerey, as a boy of ten, to be his -helper. - -Now, Eli was a lad with no more ambition than a toad. Being obsessed -with that slavish passion one finds in so many of his class to serve a -master for a mere competance that would meet his daily expenses, he went -about his business with such translucent simplicity and dutiful -obedience to his master's will that he worked from six in the morning -till seven in the evening with such a zeal that Peter could make no -complaint whatever to his energy in keeping shop, while he in turn kept -office and watched through the little square hole aforesaid. - -This place became known as The Die early in the career of Peter--a -corruption of the name of Dieman, and perhaps a revealer of his -principles. - -One day, in September, while the fog and smoke hung darkly over the -river and everything, a short heavyset man, very plainly dressed, but -with an inquisitorial air in his bearing, sauntered into the shop, and -looked about as carelessly and indolently as if he were a sojourner come -to view, with a curious eye, the accumulation of things as if on display -in a museum. The stranger walked about, with his hands in his pockets, -through the narrow aisles between ropes, chains, furniture, pictures, -old shoes, hats, clothing, saws, hammers, hatchets, and a thousand and -one other things piled up, hanging about, swinging here, or perching -there. He was so mysterious in his movements that Eli, upon concluding a -simple deal with a louting riverman, came timidly up to him in such a -condescending manner that the stranger was struck with amusing amazement -at the deferential halo that seemed to pervade the shrimp-like head of -the clerk. - -"Anything?" asked Eli, approaching. - -"Well, I don't know," answered the stranger, his eyes roving about the -room. "I just came in to see if you had anything I wanted." Still -gazing abstractedly into a far corner where lay deeper piles of junk, he -went on, "I guess, though, from the looks of things, I might get -anything I want here, from a gimlet to a gibet." - -Eli stared doubtfully at the man, wondering at his utter lack of -concentration on the object sought. In the meantime, Peter was not off -his guard at his peephole. He was standing, looking out, rubbing his -hands and squinting, in an effort to make out the identity of the man. - -"Nothing in iron? Nothing in ropes? Nothing in old clothes? Nothing in -furniture?" asked Eli. - -"Don't know just yet," answered the stranger, now with his eyes cast -down upon the docile but ever guardful Eli. - -"What then?" asked Eli, still pursuing his questioning, and still -indecisive as to how to approach this uncommunicative customer. - -"I am just looking," answered the stranger, vacantly. "Oh, well--just to -see if I can see anything of benefit that I might carry off." - -Then off he went, mozying through the congested aisles, with that -vacuous stare about him that is assumed, usually, by a Jehue in a -vaudeville show. Eli followed him, very closely, watching very sharply, -being suspicious all the time that he might pick up a stray pin and -carry it off without just compensation to his close-fisted master. The -stranger strayed on, in and out, in and out, among the junkage, till he -came at last to the cubby-hole, eyed through at that moment by old -Peter. - -Arriving at the entrance of Peter's sanctuary, the stranger stopped, -looked about him listlessly, and took hold of the latch of the door, -pressed his thumb slowly upon it, opened it, and walked within, without -invitation, or concern as to who might be the occupant therein--bear or -man. - -"Good morning," said Peter, eyeing him suspiciously. "What do you want?" - -"Well, sir," answered the stranger, "I just stepped in a moment to see -if you could supply me with a kit of tools." - -"This is my office, sir; my office," said Peter, cross as a she-bear. -"Why didn't you ask my clerk, sir; my clerk?"--now rubbing his hands -briskly and leering at the stranger. "He will supply your wants, maybe, -sir, if he has what you want." - -"I always deal with the proprietor of an establishment," remarked the -stranger, seating himself. "No harm in that, I reckon, sir?" - -"None," returned Peter, with a growl. "None, sir." - -"Then, do you have a kit of burglar tools?" asked the stranger, with a -suavity of an oily-tongued vender of patent medicine. - -Peter looked him over again more critically, eyed him more suspiciously, -growled out an unintelligible word or two, and sat down himself in a -corner, but in such a position that he still could keep one eye on his -loophole of observance. - -"No, sir!" deliberately groaned out Peter, "I never carry such articles -by choice." - -"Then by chance, perhaps?" questioned the stranger. - -"Nor by chance, if I can help it," screeched the crusty Peter. "I am an -honest dealer in my wares." - -"I presume so," returned the stranger, with his eyes roaming about the -four bare walls of the cubby-hole, as if he were unwinding his thoughts -preparatory to a plunge into the secrets of something hidden within his -breast. - -"You doubt my word, sir?" said Peter, on his dignity. - -"Your veracity, I presume," calmly remarked the stranger, "is equal to -the rest of men in business." - -"It is, sir," answered Peter, foaming. - -"Well, if you have not got what I want, I must leave your place without -it," said the stranger, with a nonchalance that caused Peter to squint -one of his little eyes up like a question mark. - -"I am a fair dealer in all things, I am, sir," retorted Peter, "and I -don't like for strangers coming about here and eyeing as if I was in -league with criminals, or any other such disreputables." - -"That's all right, stranger," replied the stranger, with mollifying -effectiveness. "This being a junk shop, I took it to be no more than -natural to find here such tools as I have indicated." - -Peter rubbed his dirty hands together for a moment, gave an avaricious -curl to his under lip, squinted his porcine eyes, and asked: - -"What do you propose doing with them tools?" - -Then he suddenly turned his head, with a grin of malice on his -countenance, and looked through his peephole at Eli, whom he saw at that -moment parlying with a forlorn creature of the feminine gender. After -gazing thereat for a moment, he turned to the stranger to receive an -answer to his question. - -"Nothing, any more than that I want them," answered the stranger, -carelessly. - -"That is not a satisfactory answer," said Peter, again turning to his -peephole, from which place he could not now unrivet his eyes. - -"That's my only answer," replied the stranger. "Your name is Peter -Dieman, is it not?" - -Peter quickly unriveted his eyes, and looked up with astonishment at the -peculiar tone in the stranger's voice, and the sharp look in his -steel-gray eyes. - -"It is my name," growled Peter. - -"I knew it was--judging by the sign over the door," said the stranger. - -"Then why in the devil do you ask such a foolish question, if you knew -it?" said Peter, ferociously. - -"Because, I wanted to make sure," said the stranger. "Say, Mr. Dieman," -he now asked, "do you know Ford & Ford, who are after the contract for -repaving 444th street with wood blocks?" - -"I do." - -"Do you know Councilman Biff?" - -"I do." - -"You know all the other councilmen?" - -"I do." - -"Very well. Do you know the chief clerk?" - -"I do." - -"How many can you buy?" - -Peter eyed him again, growled again, again peeped out of his place of -espial at Eli and the forlorn creature still parlying, rubbed his hands, -ran his greasy fingers through his thin setting of hair, coughed, -sneezed, looked out the peephole, screwed his mouth to one side, -hem-hawed, then snorted: - -"Who do you represent?" - -"Ford & Ford. Here is my passport to you," replied the stranger, handing -Peter a typewritten sheet of paper signed by a member of that firm. - -"Why, in the devil, didn't you make yourself known in the beginning?" - -"Oh, I just wanted to lead you up to the question." - -"What do they want?" - -"They want the contract." - -"Have they got the money?" - -"They have." - -"It will cost you--" - -"We have the necessary amount." - -"--Fifty thousand to get it--money first." - -"When do you want the money?" - -"Tomorrow at eleven o'clock." - -The stranger arose, went out into the smoke and fog, and disappeared -somewhere into the infolding channels of great business undertakings of -this wonderfully prosperous city of steel and iron, where even the -hearts of men are as the material that the great blast furnaces spew -out, day and night, for seven days in the week, week in and week out. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -IN HELL'S HALF ACRE. - - -The forlorn individual whom Peter Dieman saw through his spyhole, during -his soul stirring conversation with the stranger, was Kate Barton, the -wife of Billy Barton, the waterman, and the ragged but chunky young -woman with her was her daughter, Star Barton. - -They had come into Peter's place to redeem, if possible, or to take away -as a gift of charity, if lucky, a few battered and broken kitchen -utensils that Billy Barton had sold during one of his thirsty spells -while staggering through a vaporless period of inebriacy. - -Kate Barton's outlook on life was hopeless. She came into the world as -poor as the proverbial church mouse, and seemed doomed to go out of it -even poorer. She married Billy Barton, a shiftless young man, with an -inherent predilection for hankering after the flowing bowl, and ere she -had passed a score of years of wedded life twelve innocent starvelings -had opened their eyes to her as their mother to gravitate for themselves -around the "old block." - -The poor woman! She was a meek victim of the direst kind of -circumstances that could possibly surround a human being. She was one of -those submissive and inept mortals that blindly plod the road of -domesticity without a spark of the beautiful to light up the narrow -channel of unrequitted effort. When she married Billy Barton, she went -about it with that fatality of purpose as is usual with her class, and -bore her burdens with the equanimity of a horse hitched to a loaded cart -on the uphill pull, without a thought for anything beyond her daily -tribulations, save that vague idea that the good Lord would take care of -her in the after while. She had no ambition further than the difficult -task of caring for her home with its limited accommodations and -plethoric adornment of young life. The unworthy addition of an imbibing -husband, on whom she looked as an inalienable part of her existence, did -in no sense tend her thoughts to any less love for him than if he had -been a more renowned character among men. Poor, helpless woman! - -When Peter Dieman saw her that day through his place of outlook, he saw -a woman as lean as a bean pole, as tall as a rail splitter, as -cadaverous as a ghost, with a hook nose, deeply sunken gray eyes, a -complexion that was a cross between yellow and black, brown stringy hair -and toothless mouth. Her dress was of faded black alpaca, her shoes -coarse and well worn, with a dirty yellow shawl hooded over her head and -hanging with frayed edges over her shoulders. - -After the stranger had left him, Peter stood a few moments, blinkingly -observing her. He then stepped out of his office into the less dingy -shop. He lumbered up to where she stood having an altercation with Eli -Jerey. - -"Well, Mrs. Barton," he said, rubbing his hands as if very cold, and -grinning like a cheshire cat; "can't you and Eli come to terms? What is -the trouble?" - -"Eli Jerey says I cannot redeem my goods without I pay a profit for your -trouble," she answered. - -"Can't have what?" he quizzed. - -"Them things that Bill sold you to get drink money with," she replied. - -"What things?" asked Peter. - -"Them dishes of mine--them tin pans--them knives--them forks--them -spoons--he carried off," she whimperingly returned. - -"I paid him the cash for them--the cold cash, Mrs. Barton," said Peter, -with a stony smile. - -"You did, no doubt, or else he wouldn't've been drunk last night," she -replied. - -"I never ask any questions where the things I buy come from--I give all -anything is worth; no more, no less, and never ask where the money goes -when it leaves my hands--I expect to sell them for a profit, or else -what am I in business for?" thus screeched the junkman. - -"Oh, Mr. Dieman!" wailed the poor creature. "I have nothing left to cook -with or eat on. He's taken the last dish in the house. My children have -been eating off the bare boards--and eating their vituals raw." - -"That's not my outlook, Mrs. Barton," retorted Peter, rubbing his hands -now more vigorously than ever, as if he had a fresh chill, or had just -come in out of a cold blast of weather. - -"I thought you might return them to me," said Mrs. Barton, appealingly. - -"Thought nothing," he answered, with a croak. "Give me my price and you -can take them." - -"I have only fifty cents," said the forlorn woman, "and I need that to -buy something to eat." - -"I have nothing to give you, Mrs. Barton," he snorted, turning his back -to her, and rubbing his hands as if in meditation, and batting his small -eyes, as if he were winking at his little god--Mammom. - -Feeling that it was hopeless to plead with him for the articles, and -wanting to save her fifty cents, Mrs. Barton turned slowly, pulled the -yellow shawl closer over her head and shoulders, and started to leave -the junk shop. Eli stood by agape, without a sign of sympathy for her, -or an emotion of any kind, any more than if he had been a fence post. -Mrs. Barton bowed her head as she walked away, and her daughter, Star, -after casting a disdainful look at Eli, followed. Eli stood still -looking after them. Peter stood still rubbing his hands and batting his -eyes, as if he were preparing to offer up devotion to his deity. Then of -a sudden he turned, and roared: - -"Come back, Mrs. Barton!" - -Mrs. Barton stopped as suddenly as Peter had cried out, faced about, and -looked blankly at the object who gave the command. - -"Come back!" roared Peter again. - -The poor woman, having no reason to be independent about the matter, -went hesitatingly toward him. When she came up to the blinking idol of -greed, she stood waiting for him to speak further. - -"Take your old things, and tell Bill the next time he comes into my -place of business I'll tear him to pieces," he cried. "I've had enough -of him already. He's nothing but an old sot, unworthy of a woman like -you," now with commiseration in his sordid heart for her, and only -condemnation for her weak husband. "Take them, and go, and tell him that -I'll get even with him sometime." - -"Thank you; thank you," said Mrs. Barton, with a gleam of merciful -gratitude in her eyes for this philanthropic pig. - -"Eli," said Peter, without returning a "welcome" to Mrs. Barton, as he -turned to that dutiful menial, "give the woman her trumphery and let her -begone." - -Then rubbing his hands more furiously, and squinting his eyes more -swiftly and gritting his teeth more viciously at the turn this action of -benefaction gave his conscience, he waddled to his black office, where -he resumed his smoking, and took to calculating to a certainty as to how -he could recover from some one else the small pittance he was out by -this disreputable transaction, as he termed it, on the part of Billy -Barton, the waterman. - -Eli Jerey at once proceeded to obey his superior, for that was his only -aim at that period in his life. Into a gunny sack he piled the chipped -and broken dishes, the battered pans, the rusty iron forks and knives, -and tin spoons, composing the entire culinary outfit of Kate Barton. - -With the sack thus loaded, Mrs. Barton swung it once in front of her, -and with a quick jerk whirled it over her right shoulder, bent under it -as if it were of great weight, said good bye to Eli, and strode out, -with Star following. They crossed the street and went down the glacis of -the cobblestoned wharf. Following the water's edge, they passed among -the miscellaneous collection of freight piled high on every hand. Over -taut ropes, holding boats, barges and rivermen's houses, they stepped, -catching their toes now and then, and almost falling; proceeding ever -on, through all kinds of heaps and piles of freightage; ever on, among -the men moving about performing their duties silently. Ever on, Kate -Barton led the way, a tireless, fearless, forbidding being, who created -no more comment among the habitues of this district than if she were -nowhere to be seen; till, at last, she, like one with the joy of success -bound up in a spiritless heart, arrived where a dog-boat lay tethered to -a ring-bolt in the stone abutment of the Point bridge. - -Into the boat she tumbled her bundle, with no thought as to the result -such an act might have upon the dishes, ordered Star to climb in and -take a seat in the rear, untied the rope, and jumped in herself as she -gave the boat a shove into the stream. Taking up the oars she bent to -them with the energy of a man, and pulled through the puffing, snorting, -wheezing, churning craft for the farther shore--where house boats lay -moored; where shanties hugged dangerously close to the water line; where -decrepit buildings stood in all stages of deformity; where every inch of -ground on the narrow space between the margin of the river and the -verticle cliff behind was utilized to its utmost with everything -imaginable, from the detritus of the hill to a pretentious manufacturing -plant of equivocal worth in its baleful aspect. The hill above was -straight up and down, almost, rock ribbed and bleak, a barrier to the -pleasant places above and beyond; and at its base a railway system held -indisputable sway; while betwixt it and the river were the straggling -homes of men, with a few stunted and wheezy domesticated animals and -fowls roaming about them. - -Once upon a time this place bore the evil name of Hell's Half Acre. - -To a low-browed, unpainted, unadorned, uninviting three-roomed shack -Mrs. Barton took her way, with the bundle of precious household articles -on her back, with Star following. They passed along narrow, winding -alleys, with frightful looking fences bulging out, or leaning in; past -foul mud holes; past filthy doorsteps, where brawling children, like her -own, screamed at her, or taunted her, or spoke friendly to her; through -sticky mire, over rickety board walks, over stepping stones at watery -places, and on, over everything and through everything that had a -squalid and sickly hue she went--with Star following--and with one -unswerving gait, or changed expression of her leathery face, to the door -of her own abode. - -The door squeaked with the pain of lassitude as she shoved it open. She -entered the kitchen--Star following. Dropping the sack on a dilapidated -chair, she began lifting the contents therefrom, as the children -gathered around, in all stages of filthiness, to see the operation. A -toddling three-year-old grasped a spoon, as soon as he saw it come -forth, and resorted to the ashes in the grate as material by which to -test its usefulness. Another child took up a knife and began hacking at -a table leg; another took up a cup and ran out to procure some water; -while another took up a small battered tin pail to fetch in a little -coal to replenish the dying fire. - -The children ranged in age from one to nineteen, the -eldest--Michael--being away earning money for his own keep, so that she -had a short dozen mouths to fill for the nonce. - -After completing the task of unburdening the sack, Mrs. Barton delivered -the youngest child unto Star to tend while she set about to cook a meal. -Her bill of fare was meager and simple, withal. It consisted wholly of -fried potatoes, dough-bread hurryingly mixed, and coffee. After the fare -was spread upon the table, ten greedy youngsters and their mother sat -down to dine, while Star stood off, waiting to take potluck with the -leavings. Unselfish child, as she was, she deferred always first to the -appeasement of the hunger of the others. The savory provender lay heaped -in a lusterless dish in the center of the table, and the coffee stood -hot in a tin pot on a corner of the stove, while the bread was broken -into fragments, as per age of child and capacity, and laid by each -place. As plates and cups and saucers, knives and forks, were not -sufficient to go around, the younger children fought and scratched and -pulled as to whose turn should come "next" in being served. Some being -ferociously hungry, and impatient over delays, dipped into the platter -with their hands, clapping the contents to their mouths, like monkeys, -and ate their bread with such an eager determination to get filled up -that they almost choked. Some drank the coffee out of the pot, and -spluttered and cried and slobbered with such wild frenzy that they were -called she-wolves by their mother sitting by eating sparingly but as -contentedly and as heartily as if her young hopefuls were angels instead -of brats. - -"Where's your pap?" asked the mother, directing her question to any, or -all, of them, so indifferently was the question pronounced. - -"Went to the city," answered the eldest. - -"Naw he didn't," said the ten-year-old, after taking a swallow of the -faintly discolored water called coffee. - -"When did he go?" again questioned the mother, after the lapse of a few -minutes. - -"Soon after you left," answered the fourteen-year-old, indifferent as to -where he went, "and took his overcoat with him." - -"To sell it, too, s'pose," said the mother unconcernedly. - -"Yep," replied the ten-year-old; "said he'd bring me a pair of shoes." - -"I see you gettin' a pair of shoes from him, Liz," retorted the mother, -without the least concern whether the child had any or no, as she rolled -the fried potatoes and dough-bread between her gums. - -Thus the mother and the children talked about "pap," the father, who had -that day wandered out of his beaten course, the one that he had learned -to travel in so regularly for twenty years or more. This course lay -between his squalid home and the tempting saloons that lined the streets -of old Birmingham farther up the river way. Billy Barton was a man with -an unconquerable appetite for strong drink as might be judged from what -has been said heretofore. All his unvarying life before this memorable -day he had but one thought, but one ambition, but one predominating -idea, and that was to get drink--either by buying, begging, stealing, or -trading for it. But when his wife left him this morning, with the -parting word that she would fetch home the things that he had sold the -day before, he, too, left shortly after her departure, taking with him -an old rusty overcoat. - -As he departed from his door, with his flock of half-starved children -standing in it watching him leave, he went with a new resolution in his -mind, a new determination formed, a new purpose in view. This was that -he would go away and find work--away from his old environments, away -from his drunken associates. With this new resolve burning feebly in his -irresolute breast, he struck a course for the mills in the Soho -district. - -That night he did not return; nor the next day; nor the next night; nor -the following day. Mrs. Barton and the family thought little of his -failure to return in the space of time, for they had been used to his -absence on a spree for almost a whole week at a stretch. But when a week -had gone by, and when ten days had gone by, and two weeks had finally -passed, they began to feel uneasy at his prolonged absence. When a third -week had passed and he did not put in an appearance in the hilarious -condition they anticipated to behold him wheeling down upon them, the -mother thought it time to make some concerted attempt to ascertain the -cause of his disappearance. - -She took the matter very calmly, consoling herself with the reflection -that her spouse was safe somewhere, or otherwise she would have heard -about him through the police department, or through the gossips of her -disreputable neighborhood. Little by little she began to inquire -cursorily among the neighbors, then among the keepers of the saloons, -then of the policeman of the district. She got no tidings of him. A -month passed; no news. Another month passed; no news. He was gone. - -So Kate Barton, with her twelve children, was left alone to fight -against starvation, or go to the poor house, or have her family broken -up, and scattered among the charitable, who are very often among the -worst as saviors of the outcasts. - -Alone, alone! What if we, who live in gilded halls, had to take her -place! Ah, we would call on a merciful God to deliver us! For there are -things in this life, mind you, my good keepers of the loaves and fishes, -that are even worse than death--worse than death. - -Alas, too often, men of piety are prone to shun their christian duty. -Millions of beings, such as she, vegetate from the cradle to the grave -and never see the ministering hand of the followers of that Christ who -taught that it is more blessed to give than to receive. Millions go up -and down the obscure pathways of this world, within the sacred sound of -the clanking bells of religion, and never receive the helping meed that -was promised them. Millions live like the rioting motes invisible in the -air about us as if all the philanthrophy of Christendom were set aside -for the chosen few. The successful gloat over and glory in their -achievements, and extend a cursory hand to those below as if they were -fulfilling the ten commandments as a great finale of their -extravaganza. But, do they do any good? There are many Kate Bartons all -around us, the natural among the unnatural, who deserve more compassion -from those preachers of the Good Will than they ever receive. It is not -believed by all that only the chosen few shall answer the call. It is -not believed by all that the doctrine of the Christ should prevail one -day in the week and be sunk in oblivion for the other six. No, not by -all. - -But Kate Barton's day shall come, some day; and those who shun her now -will assert their cringing hypocracy when she has been lifted up, and -not lifted by their hands. - -Charity is not what the Kate Bartons want--it is the meed of -opportunity. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -STAR BARTON SEEKS A NEW HOME. - - -Star Barton? She was the one scintillating light that shone out of the -milky way of the Barton family. She was a sport of the family tree--a -lily nourished in a quagmire. And how a wondering world marvels at such -unaccountable things of nature! - -Through eighteen weary summers and eighteen dreary winters she went, -before seeing a light above the dim horizon of her impoverished world. -Through babyhood she crawled in frightful filth, as if it were a part of -her wretched existence, seeing nothing beyond the bare walls and bare -floors of her cramped up playgrounds; through childhood she toddled, -with the same dismal conditions abetting her expanding innocence; -through the period of adolescence she walked without a thought of what -the outside world contained, except as she intuitively gathered such -knowledge as the thick curtain of ignorance slowly rose before her; till -now she had come to the springtime of womanhood, full of its snares and -pitfalls for such as she. Then, like the bursting of the sun through a -rent-way in the clouds on a rainy day, she, for the first time, saw the -beckoning star that should lead her on--on--on--to a life of rectitude, -or--dissoluteness. - -Star Barton was the second child of Kate Barton, and early in her -teening years gave some promise of her future. When only ten she began -to be a drudge, doing all the things that her delicate hands could, with -exertion, be laid to. She was the patient "little mother" to all the new -babies as they yearly floated out of Paradise to this place of -desolation. She was the scrub-woman, the washer-woman, the charwoman, -the cook, the chamber maid, ever cheerful in her efforts to perform her -tasks. Illy clad, scantily fed, roundly abused by her father, -continually scolded by her mother, and never praised by either parent, -she mutely submitted, like a black slave, to all the torments of -blighting servitude that could be heaped upon her. Thus, for eighteen -long years, Star Barton was subjected to all the demoralizing influences -of drunkenness and poverty; and how she came out of it unblighted any -one may wonder at. And now, at this age, she stood looking out the -narrow window of her vantage point, seeing the promise of a brighter -life. - -Then why was she a freak of nature from the family tree? Because she had -a round face, pink cheeks, two even rows of white teeth, two mild blue -eyes underneath dark eyebrows, a sharp, shrewd, straight nose, and dark -hair; and because she was of average height, well formed, muscular and -courageous; and still, because nature had provided her, as it provides -the offspring of the weak, sometimes, with all the qualities and graces -that were necessary to combat the deteriorating effects of a life of -toil. - -As suddenly as she had seen the new light mount the horizon of her life, -as suddenly did she long for better ways, a better home, a better life. -This longing came to her the very time her father disappeared. She -sought work, and found it, still as a drudge, in a lodging house up in -Birmingham. The small pittance that she earned she took home every -Saturday night, and gave it to her mother as a helping mite towards -banishing the horde of wolves that constantly prowled about her door. -This small sum was not sufficient to maintain a successful contest with -those beasts of starvation that gnawed their way, like famished whelps, -into the growing bodies of the ten starvelings of Kate Barton. But, -notwithstanding, Star never failed in her willingness to turn her last -penny for their sustenance. An older brother had been her assistant in -this trial, and he kept it up with a good will till about the hour the -father had deserted them; but he, losing heart, after acquiring new -habits and forming ill-savored acquaintances, so far forgot his duty to -his mother that he also deserted her in her time of greatest need. He -went away as suddenly as her father--they knew not where. And Star was -ever faithful, ever trustworthy, ever to be relied upon by her hapless -mother. - -One day, after ten hours of the severest toil, Star came home, with the -little bundle of her personal effects under her arm. It was on that -memorable day in November when the heavens seemed to have bursted their -flood gates and let out a deluge to come down in gimlets to pierce the -fog and smoke with its weird pattering. Without cloak, or coat, or -protection of any kind, Star waded through the sodden streets, arriving -at the door of her home as wet as a drowning rat. Entering, she -deposited her bundle on the only table in the house, and took up a -position close to a cast iron stove that was about as cheerless in its -warmth as the evening itself. She was so thoroughly soaked that every -lineament of her form could be seen through the thin garment that clung -to her body as closely as paper on a wall. - -"Mother," said Star, as that lean creature came indolently into the -room, "I have quit my job." - -"You have?" answered the mother, about as carelessly as if she were -talking gossip over the back fence. - -"Yes, mother, I have quit." - -"Very well, I've lots to do here; I reckon you can keep busy," said the -mother, as if the future had been provided with all the necessaries of -life. - -Star left her mother suckling a child by the stove, and proceeded to her -dark and shabbily furnished room for a change of clothing. Presently she -returned looking less distressful. Then she bathed her face in a water -bucket that stood on a box by a besmoked window, following with the -combing of her long dark hair. After which, she rolled her hair into a -knot at the back of her head, looked into a crooked mirror, dampened her -fingers on her tongue and touched her eyebrows, then set to work to cook -the evening meal for the brats caterwauling around like so many -wild-cats. - -Kate Barton gave no concern about Star's future. She asked no questions -as to why she quit her work as scrub-woman at the lodging house. She -said nothing that would leave the least impression as to what she -thought about providing for the family. Deplorable mortal! - -"Mother," said Star, after awhile, "I am going away tomorrow to look for -a new place." - -"It makes no difference, Star," was the response of the mother. "I can -use you here." - -"How will we live, if I don't work, mother?" - -"As we have always lived, s'pose." - -"And that has been poorly, mother." - -"Yes." - -"Don't you want me to go away, mother?" - -"It makes no difference, s'pose," answered the mother. "I've put up with -it this long, s'pose I can put up with it the rest of my days." - -"Mother," said Star, whose love for her mother was of the -undemonstrative kind, the kind born of instinct, and is taken for -granted among the very poor; "mother, I am going to the East End -tomorrow to look for a job as a domestic in a rich man's home." - -"Yes," replied the mother. - -"A woman came to me today and told me to go to a certain house, in the -East End, where I could get work at six dollars a week, and board thrown -in." - -"Yes, Star," returned the mother, now showing a little more interest in -the conversation than she had shown in any thing before--unless it was, -perhaps, her drunken husband. - -"Mother?" - -"Yes, Star." - -"That is twenty-four dollars a month; that will keep me in clothing, and -plenty for the children to eat." - -"Yes, Star," said the mother, as she rose from her chair, with the -suckling still hanging to her breast, and walked across the floor, for -no purpose whatever, other than that perhaps the performance might -dissolve her cold brooding into a semblance of interest in her material -welfare. Then she sat down again and rocked to and fro with the -rockerless chair, as a jolting dose of soothing syrup for the pain that -had suddenly twisted the child's mouth into a howling breadth. - -"And mother," continued Star, "the woman gave me the address of a rich -family that wants a maid for a young lady, or a cook, or something -else, I forget which." - -"Yes, Star." - -"And she said I could get the job if I go at once." - -"Yes, Star," responded the mother between the infinitisimal intervals of -the noise of the thumping chair and the yelling child. - -"And mother, she said they live in a grand house as big as all our forty -shanties here put together." - -"Yes," said the mother. - -"And she said it was lit up by electric lights, and had steam heat, and -furniture as grand as any place, mother--as grand as any king's palace, -mother. I am going tomorrow, mother." - -"Yes," returned the mother, as she turned the yelling child over her -knee and gave it two or three smacks, causing it to become so red in the -face that its phiz shone more brightly than the lambent rays that -filtered through the smoky chimney of the kerosene lamp sitting on the -table. - -"And she said, mother," still pursued Star, as she went about among the -battered pans and rattled the cracked and broken dishes she was -displaying on the family board, the while stirring the frying potatoes -in the sheet-iron skillet, and watching the coffee pot that it did not -boil away all the aroma, "that the young lady who wants a maid is so -very handsome and so fine that I cannot sleep till I get there." - -"Yes," croaked the mother, a little irritated, it appeared, by all these -revelations that Star was unfolding before her; for nothing disturbed -her so, it seemed, as the mention of such hifalutin things, although she -herself, in all her lowliness, never disparaged, by word, anybody who -had more than she, being a woman absolutely contented with her lot. - -"May I go?" asked Star, who always felt it a matter of filial respect to -defer to her parents' beck and call. - -"Yes," dolefully replied the mother, as she rocked the squalling brat on -the rockerless chair with greater vigor than had been her practice. - - * * * * * - -That night Star Barton went to bed with more stirring imaginings in her -untrained head than she had ever presumed upon before in all her dreary -life. For a long time she lay awake seeing of the new vista that so -suddenly opened before her disreputable habitat; dreaming of another -place, so widely dissevered from hers, that it was like the enchanted -land she once read about in a book that some roving spirit had conveyed -to her haunts; dreaming of the wonders she had oftentimes conjured up to -placate her plagued thoughts that hung like burning tapers of despair in -her abiding place of want; dreaming, yea dreaming, for the first time in -her whole unvaried life, of the things that are beautiful, grand and -regal. Then she went to sleep to dream some more:--of the fantasies of -an idle brain, of the children of her unconscious world, of the evil -spirits that had ever been a part of her uneventful being, of the -spirits that come to checkmate us in our mad rush, causing us to turn -aside to ponder over their real meaning. - -But none of the visions of the sleeping hours was as promising as the -fancies of her wakeful time. For when she awoke in the morning, the -lustre that had pervaded her dreaming had waned, and she faltered over -making the new and uncertain step. Oh what a bad little imp it is that -seems to possess those of us, at times, who, when a new undertaking is -to be entered upon, hesitate, procrastinate, pause and deliberate, till -the time of opportunity is over! - -Star was, on this morning, in such a state of uncertainty, probably very -much on account of the continuation of the nasty weather, that it was -near the noon hour before she could resolve finally to spend ten cents -for the fare to take the journey she had so set her head on the previous -day. She donned her best blue gingham dress; coiled her hair up into a -knot on top of her head; tied a faded black ribbon in it; adjusted an -odd looking round black straw hat, with some faded flowers breaking its -sombre monotony, to her head; looked into the crazy little mirror that -reflected her not much unlike some distorted beast with a white face; -threw a grayish cape over her shoulders, and went out into the rain. - -After a period of time that was very slow in passing, and after much -fluttering of her virtuous heart, and considerable indecision whether to -go on or to return to the place she knew so well, she arrived at the -Highland avenue address given her the day before by the unknown, but -friendly disposed, woman who met her at her last place of bondage. When -she reached the great iron gate that opened into the spacious yard of -the mansion on the hill, she again hesitated, and walked back and forth -on the pavement so many times that the keeper of the gate, with -suspicion cast upon her, came out to inquire the meaning of her actions. - -"I have come--I have come--" faltered Star, feeling like fleeing from -him in that moment of her bewilderment over the bigness of the outside -world, "--to look for a place. They gave me this number," handing the -keeper a card. - -The keeper, who was an oldish man, and perhaps had a daughter of his -own, took the card, looked it over, looked at her, then looked at it; -then looked at her. He saw that she had a beautiful face, was innocent -and unbeguiling. - -"This is the place, miss," he answered, kindly. "This is the way in," -and he opened the large gate, and passed her in. - -Star went up the smooth asphaltum walk with considerable trepidation, -heeding nothing about her, and seeing only the big house at the end. The -most serious thing that she did was to go directly to the big front -door, with its shining knocker that looked to her like the face of a -bull in brass with a pendulous ring in its nose. She was in such a -flurry that she could not have believed her own tongue, had she spoken -then and there. She had never, in all her dreaming, imagined such -things. Her head was in a whirl, and more than once she was on the point -of turning back to her forlorn mother, where she felt she would be equal -to her surroundings. - -However, summoning up all the courage and fortitude that she possessed, -she at last tapped timidly at the door. No answer. She touched her red -knuckles on one of the polished panels. No answer. Then, merely as a -matter of curiosity, caught hold of the ring in the bull's nose, pulled -on it, and let it drop back into place, which was immediately followed -by a dull brassy ring. Suddenly the door swung wide open, appearing to -her as the door of a factory building, in its immensity. - -A tall, pompous gentleman--dressed like the men she had seen in a book -on colonial characters, only this one had short hair and scragly -sideburns--loomed up before her, like the Giant did to Jack, perhaps. -His sudden appearance caused her to involuntarily start and draw back, -with a greater desire than ever to flee; but in a moment he spoke, -hoarsely: - -"Go to the rear door!" - -Whereupon, he closed the door. The way into such gilded piles of luxury, -for such as Star Barton in her present condition, is not by the front -entrance. No graven lintel was ever raised to pass such as Star -thereunder. Away, away, like a rat to its hole, steal into the less -prominent openings leading to the apartments of the flunkies! - -Star was dazed by this action; but not knowing that it was any more than -a big apartment house for the rich, she judged she had gone to the wrong -door. So she, with a still fluttering heart, proceeded in the direction -indicated. Before she had found the proper place, she had tried a number -of the openings in the grim, gray walls, receiving the same reception at -all of them as at the first. "Go to the rear," "go to the rear," was -repeated so often to her that she began to feel dizzy from its -repetition, and drowsy and faint over the possibility of failure. - -Then she came to a door where a cook answered her knock. He wore a -white, brimless cap, and a big white apron covered up the rotundity of -his front clear up to his chin and almost to his feet. He was large and -fat and filled up almost the entire space of the opened door. He was -red-faced and genial, and had a merry twinkle in his blue eyes. He -reminded Star of a big German butcher whom she knew in the marts of -Birmingham. - -"Well!" he exclaimed, seeing the visitor to his quarters was a lady. - -"I came to see if you want a cook," said Star, now feeling more composed -since some one deigned to talk with her. - -"A cook!" he exclaimed, grinning. - -"A cook, yes, sir," she answered. - -"We employ none but men cooks here, lady," he replied, and was about to -close the door. - -"Surely, I have made a mistake," thought Star, in this moment of her -rebuff, as she took it. Her heart was failing her. She felt -disconsolate. She was about to turn and flee--back to her own elements, -back to her own humble surroundings; to all the shortcomings of her -home, to her stupid mother, to her unfortunate brothers and sisters, to -her wretched existence again, and there take up her burdens as she -before had borne them. - -The fat cook noticed the pallor that had come over Star's face, as the -consequence of his remark, and instead of closing the door in her face, -as he intended, he opened it wider, and said: - -"You must be in the wrong place, Miss." - -"No sir; I am not," she answered. "This is the address that was given -me, where a cook was wanted--or I might be mistaken--it might be a maid -is wanted for a young lady." - -"Very doubtful," said the cook, scratching his head. - -"None wanted?" she asked. - -"To get a place here you must have recommendations," he answered. - -"I have never worked away from home," she replied, "except for a few -months. I have never been a maid to a lady. But--but--I want to learn." - -"Wait," said the cook, quickly, as if he had thought of something that -had been commended to his keeping and it had slipped his memory, as he -retreated, and closed the door. - -In a few minutes the cook returned, with a smile on his round face that -made him look like the full moon, and bade Star to walk within. Star -walked within, dazed, trembling and mortally afraid of the line of -domestics, before whom it appeared she was passing in review. She was -conducted into the presence of a bouncing little lady, dressed like a -princess, with gold on her wrists, in her ears, on her breast, around -her neck--a charmingly spry little lady, with a dignified nose, a pretty -smile, and an air of geniality about her that might not be expected in -the mistress of such a household. The little lady looked Star over, -scrutinized her from head to foot. Every inch of the plumpy girl she -seemed to weigh in the fine scale of her discrimination. She was neither -pleased, nor displeased, so far as Star could see. She took her in as if -she read the whole story of her life without the aid of a palmist's text -book, or geanalogical dictionary from which to take her cue. - -"So you want to be my daughter's maid?" asked Mrs. Jarney, for that is -whom the lady was, the mother of Edith. - -"I had thought I would like to learn," replied Star, who was already -feeling at home in the presence of this fine lady. - -"Have you had experience?" - -"None; but I can learn." - -"How old are you?" - -"Eighteen, past." - -"You are large for your age." - -"But I have worked hard--that has made me strong." - -"You will need a little fixing up--what's your name?" - -"Miss Barton." - -"I kn--I mean your given name?" - -"Star." - -"Have Edith come down," said Mrs. Jarney to her maid; and she told Star -to be seated. - -Edith came down in a few moments. She was so radiant that Star fairly -held her breath. Edith advanced and presented her hand to Star, saying: - -"What is your name?" - -"Star Barton." - -"I kn--that is a fine name," replied Edith, holding Star's hand, and for -the first time she began to feel that there was some mystery about her -coming here, or else why this kindly greeting? "Mama," she said, still -holding Star's hand and turning to her mother, "I shall like her, I -know. I shall take her to my room and have her redressed. Will you come -with me? Yes, of course." - -Edith, who had been very light hearted all that day, wheeled gracefully, -lifted her skirts, and went up the stairs so lightly that she was like a -bird of Paradise, so fairily did she trip along. Star Barton, in her -poverty-stricken clothing, followed in such a delirium of amazement that -she felt as if she were treading the clouds into Heaven itself. - -And thus into a new Heaven she went, with as little formality -surrounding her going--once she was let into the mansion by the ever -guardful servants--as is seldom found in this world of inequality. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -THE TRANSFORMATION OF STAR BARTON. - - -To Star Barton, it was like going into a fairyland. Edith was the fairy, -Star the lowly nymph. Edith was the sparkling diamond that gave it its -setting, Star was the rough jewel come to be recast. - -The rich, velvety, orange-colored rug, with pale pink flowers blooming -like butterfly eyes peeping at her, was as soft as snow to the rough -maiden's touch; only it gave back, instead of a chill, an enthralling -sensation like the sound of a distant harp that beats upon a wayfarer's -ears. The creamy, snow-fringed curtains evolved themselves into -miniature cascades of dazzling frost, to her eyes; and gave back, -instead of a shiver, a lulling peace to her disturbed imagination. The -gilded furniture, the beautifully crocheted lavender cushions, the -paintings, the photos of friends, the pink tint of the walls, the -shining chandeliers, with sparkling globes and translucent shades, gave -back, instead of a frown, a smile. - -Edith was, on this occasion, the advent of Star Barton into her life, an -animated piece of pinkness, which gave the room its vitality. To Star's -eyes, unused to such things, she was an angel without the wings. Her -gossimer gown of pink, her gold, her diamonds, her fine face, all -appealed to the poor girl of such lowliness to such an ecstatic degree -that she was astonished beyond belief. - -It was all so entrancing, so enrapturing, so overpowering to her -theretofore undemonstrative spirit that she sat down and burst into -tears. This was the outward sign of her joy over her disenthrallment. -Poor simple maiden! To be brought from a hovel to this place of glory, -so suddenly, was even more than her strong nature could endure. The -transition was too sudden. The climax to the fanciful things she had -conjured up in the short time she had put into such imaginings was too -real. No pathway had ever been struck out by her with such beautiful -borderings as this. No, no; not in her limited sphere. Simple, -uneducated, modest, as she was, with a pure soul and a heart that beat -for better things, she gave way when the door of chance was thrown open -for her, at last, and poured out her joy in the agony of tears. - -Edith, who had been so radiantly happy, and who had formulated such -great plans for this girl, ceased in her joyous behavior when she saw -Star sink into a chair and put her soiled handkerchief to her eyes. -Edith at once divined the cause of Star's weeping, and knelt down by her -side in commiseration. She took both of Star's rough hands between hers, -so soft and delicate, and cried herself in the fullness of her heart. - -"Do not weep, dear girl; it grieves me so," she said, looking up into -the blue eyes of her poor benighted sister. - -"Dear, kind lady, I cannot help it," returned Star, in an effort to stop -her tears. - -"Come, come, my dear girl, you must prepare yourself to be my -companion," said Edith. "Be brave; that is a good girl. I shall love -you." - -"Dear lady, I am not fit to be here," said Star, still weeping. "These -are all the good clothes I have." - -"I have new clothing for you, my dear; come, and make ready to go down -to dinner with me," said Edith, rising, and still holding Star's hands. - -"Oh, I am so rough, I am afraid I will contaminate this place should I -remain," replied Star, hesitatingly. - -"No, no; you must not think of such a thing, my dear girl. Cheer up and -follow me," said Edith, as Star arose from her chair. Edith kissed her. -Star wiped away her tears, and smiled. - -Then Edith lead her to her private bath room, which glistened so in its -whiteness that Star drew back when she came to the door of it. This was -something that Star had never seen before; but she entered, as if it -were a place to be shunned, and was seated. Edith knelt down, in all her -finery, and unfastened Star's coarse shoes, and removed them, revealing -a foot that was as small as Edith's, but reeking with water. Edith then -prepared the bath, and gave Star instructions how to use such a modern -thing of sanitation--all foreign to Star. Then Edith left to fetch new -garments, when Star should give the signal that her ablutions had been -performed. In the course of time, Star gave the signal as agreed upon, -when Edith opened the door and entered, with both arms piled to her chin -with sweet smelling clothing, and a merry smile on her face, and a -laughing twinkle in her eyes. Modesty caused Star to conceal herself -behind the door, in the attitude of the statue of Venus. - -"My dear girl, do not be alarmed at me; I am as harmless as a kitten," -said Edith, as she beheld how naturally modest Star impelled herself to -be, even in the presence of her own sex. - -"It is my nature, dear good lady," replied Star, reaching for something -to conceal her person. - -"In deference to your modesty, dear, I shall retire, if it is your -wish," said Edith, laughing, as she put down her bundle of clothing. - -"Just for a moment, if you please, kind lady," said Star. - -So Edith sidled out of the room without looking around at her protege, -while Star pulled on her unmentionables. After which she called Edith to -assist in the furtherance of her dressing in some of the new things she -was thereafter to be seen in. - -"These must have been made for me," said Star, as one article after -another was adjusted to her form, seeing that they all fit so well and -so charmingly. - -"They were," said Edith, buttoning up the back of Star's dress, an act -she had never done before, being as she always had a maid for that -performance. - -"Made for me?" replied Star, with some surprise. - -"Yes, you, my dear girl." - -"By whose orders?" - -"Mine." - -"I don't understand," said Star, still more surprised. - -"Didn't you know you were to come here?" - -"Why, no; I thought I came by chance!" - -"You apparently did." - -"I wonder who had that much interest in me?" asked Star, for the first -time realizing that she had not been so altogether overlooked as she -imagined she had been. - -"I had--I have." - -"How? Tell me, dear lady." - -"It is a long story, dear girl, and I will tell it you some other time. -Dinner is about ready. You must go down with me. Put your hair up -quickly, so we will not keep them waiting. Oh, let me help twist it -round for you! How do you do it? I will learn some day, perhaps. Yes, -this way. Now, look in the mirror. Isn't that better? It certainly is. -You are charming. Why, I didn't know you were so sweet. Let me kiss you -now to bind our companionship henceforward. There!" - -This from Edith while she was acting as maid, in her finery, for this -poor girl, who but an hour before exhibited all the characteristics of -having been pulled from the ruins of Peter Dieman's junk heap. Indeed, -such a transformation had Star gone through in that short hour that the -fair Edith herself hardly recognized her as the same untidy being who -had come to her boudoir for what she knew not. - -"It is all so strange, dear lady, that it seems more like a dream," said -Star, now with her cheeks aflame from the bathing and the attending -excitement of the ordeal through which she had passed. - -"Oh, stranger things than what has already happened you may come to -pass," replied Edith, as she turned to take the lead down the stairs. - -"What about my old clothes?" asked Star. - -"I will send the washer-woman after them," answered Edith. - -"I shall want to send them home to mother." - -"Never mind them," returned Edith; "your mother will be provided for." - -"Oh," said Star, mystified. - -Star Barton was now a fit subject of envy for any young lady, even with -less aspiring thoughts than she. Edith might have been jealous of Star's -good looks, had it been her nature; but Edith was not so inclined, in -this instance. The fact is, that Edith was so pleased over her -handiwork, in rejuvenating this fair damsel, that she bubbled over with -happiness. Star was now clothed as became a lady of rank, except that -sparkling jewelry was lacking as yet. Star's dress was almost a -counterpart of Edith's, and set her off to advantage, in a comparative -sense. Her mild blue eyes, pink cheeks, noble white forehead, dark wavy -hair, caused the dining room attendants to stare when she came down the -great staircase and passed under the brilliant lights into the presence -of the mighty man of wealth and his bouncing little wife. Hah, even -those two august personages held their breath for a moment when they -cast their searching, but kindly, eyes upon her. - -"This is Miss Barton, papa," said Edith, as she came up to him with her -fair charge and presented her, "and my mamma, whom you have met before." - -Both parents received her so graciously that Star was dumfounded, and -exceedingly awkward in returning their salutation. - -"Miss Barton, I am happy to make your acquaintance," said Mr. Jarney. "I -assure you that you are welcome." - -Neither Mr. Jarney's pride, nor vanity, nor money, prevented him from -taking kindly to this young maiden, for he knew already whom she was, -and often longed for the time to help her, although at present he must -act with some circumspection toward her for reasons that he did not wish -her to know. And Mrs. Jarney, for the same reasons, had to conduct -herself accordingly, and meet Star on the basis of a stranger to the -name of Jarney. So keeping her in ignorance of her true relationship to -them, they hoped to make a lady of her, and do all that generous hearts -could do, under cover of being Edith's companion, to help her to a -brighter life. - -Star needed some instruction in the art of being a grand lady, which -function she never conceived in acting when she humbly presented -herself, so recently, at the back door of this mansion. The -transposition of her habitat was so expeditiously executed that she saw -in it something of the miraculous. In nowise, on so short a notice, -could she be expected to conform to the spirit and the letter of the -laws of usage in this undiscovered country to which she had been -unceremoniously transported. So, recognizing these deficiencies in Star, -Edith took it upon herself to be her teacher and took a seat by her side -at the table. But Star was not so uncouth that she was wholly deficient -in quickness of perception, and constantly kept on guard; noting every -move that the others made; noting every move of Edith with sly glances; -noting every action of those opposite, so that she should not, if -possible to prevent it, make herself ridiculous in her first appearance -on the stage of grandeur. Thus, with much carefulness on her part, in -this respect at least, she got through the dinner fairly well, -considering the great length of time--one hour--they took in -mastication, conversation, deglutition. Finally, when it was all over -with, she arose, with the rest of them, with a gladsome thanksgiving -beating in her breast. - -But the worst ordeal yet, for her, was to come. The entire family -adjourned to the parlor, where Edith sat down to the piano, and ran her -hands across the key-board so rapidly and with such a wild harmonious -result that Star almost had the ague. Then Edith sang a song--a -lullaby--so appealing in its sentimentality that Star was lost in -oblivion for a time. She let her agitated thoughts wander, unrestrained, -back to her own haunts--to the misery, want and woe she had left behind; -to the crooning mother attempting a similar lullaby; to her dark old -face, to her tearless eyes, to her faded cheeks; to her hopeless life, -in her sad, dull, stupid, sullen contentment in her wretchedness. -Verily, what mortal, with a heart, could withstand the contrasts as were -revealed to this tender maiden? No one could. She broke down under it, -like the strongest of us break down, sometimes, under the strain of -sentiment when dear ones are under the ban of misfortune. The sweet -voice of Edith was to her an angelic orison to heaven for a lost soul; -and who knows but that the angels then were pleading with the Great -Father to send His benediction down upon that other home and save it -from further damnation. - -Without being the least concerned as to who might take notice, or -without any effort to control herself in the company of those grand -people, Star let her emotions have full swing, and the tears flowed down -her cheeks as freely as they flowed when her father beat her as a child. -The dainty handkerchief that she now carried was soon soaked with the -lachrymose outburst of her misery. Her eyes became red, her cheeks -paled, and her hair, which had not been put up by trained hands, fell -down over her shoulders. Despair! despair! despair! - -Edith played on, and sang, wholly unconscious of Star's sad moments. But -her mother, happening to look Star's way, noticed her despairing plight, -and went to her side with a consoling smile and a sympathetic word. When -Edith had finished playing, she wheeled about on her seat, with beaming -face, to receive the plaudits of her auditors; but a mournful silence -greeted her. Her smiling face calmed to a serious tone when she saw her -friends standing about Star in all manner of comforting attitudes. Then -Edith, grasping the situation at once, glided to her side, and, kneeling -down, took Star's two red hands in hers, and cried. Dear Edith, so good -of you. Then she assisted Star to rise, placed her arm around her waist, -and conducted her up the great white stairs, like a guiding angel going -into Heaven with a new soul. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -JOHN WINTHROPE PROMOTED. - - -The day following the accidental meeting of Miss Jarney and Mr. -Winthrope, under such wretched meteorological circumstances, was spent -by the latter in the office of Jarney & Lowman as usual; with this -exception, that the young man went about his duties as assistant -bookkeeper with more alertness and decisiveness of purpose, at the same -time pondering over another chance meeting of the morning. - -He arose an hour earlier than had been his wont, sleep having been -dispelled by the train of thoughts that the awakening moments had set in -motion in his brain. Notwithstanding that the inclement weather held -almost at the same steady pace as on the night previous, after dressing -himself, he went out, with the broken umbrella over him, into the -streets to wander aimlessly about; observing, as he did so, the mad rush -of the people; or taking a percursory view of the store windows; or -standing in the shelter of a door; or beneath an awning, looking idly at -the crowd, ever on the go. - -He wended down Fourth avenue to Smithfield, up to Fifth, down to Wood, -down to Second; halting now and then, in his sauntering, to gaze in the -windows, being interested in nothing in particular any more than to have -time go as rapidly as it would go, so that he could get down to the -absorbing task of putting down and reckoning up columns of figures in -his books. So he wended on in this irresponsible manner till half way up -the block on Second avenue, when he was compelled, by a sudden outburst -of the elements in pumping down more water than he could contend with in -the flabby condition of his umbrella, to take shelter in a doorway that -was sunk deeply into a wall of brick, which was grimly garnished by the -wear of years. - -He had let down the umbrella, and was scanning it, with perhaps some -vagrant thoughts as to its former user; of the fine quality of the -material, and of the "E. J." engraved on the gold handle; when the door -at his back opened noiselessly, and was closed just as noiselessly, and -quickly. A young man stepped to his side with a rain shade of his own in -his hands. He was of medium height, dressed fairly well in a -hand-me-down, and sported a flaming red necktie. His face was neither -handsome, nor ugly, but there was in it signs of recent dissipation. - -"A beastly morning," he remarked, as he began turning up his collar and -buttoning up his coat. - -"A very bad morning," answered John, not with the view of striking up a -conversation, but simply to be civil to a stranger. - -"Couldn't be worse in h----!" said the stranger, as if talking to -himself. - -"No; I suppose there is not much water falling in that region," said -John, looking up at the cork-screws of water twisting their way down, -and breaking into pieces on the hard pavement. - -"I reckon not," responded the stranger, for the first time turning his -dull gray eyes upon John. As John made no further response, the stranger -continued: "What are you doing in here? Looking for a place like this, -eh?" - -"I merely stopped to await a moderation of the rain," answered John, -innocently, knowing nothing of the character of the place into which the -door led. - -"Then you are not looking for a joint like this?" said the stranger, -eyeing John. - -"What kind of a place is it?" asked John. - -"Don't you know?" - -"Have not the least idea." - -"You must be from the country?" - -"Not very long since I came from that indefinite place." - -"Come around some evening and ask for Mike Barton, and you'll find out," -said the stranger, in a whisper, sizing John up as a likely victim for -such an institution. - -"I never go to a place unless I know of its character first," returned -John. - -"Huh, you don't! I pity such greenhorns as you," flippantly retorted the -stranger. - -"You scamp!" exclaimed John, hotly, and his dark blue eyes snapped with -anger, as the insolent chappy cringed beneath him. "Don't leer at me, or -I will wipe up the streets with you." - -"Now, my dear sir," replied the stranger, seeing his mistaken opinion of -the man he had met; "don't get angry; I feel a little blue this -morning." - -"You should be more courteous, young man, whatever the time, or place, -or your state of mind," answered John. - -"I'll heed your advice hereafter," said the stranger, with a sarcastic -smile. "But take the number and come around sometime, when I'll make -amends for this insult, if you choose still to take it as such." - -"Oh, never mind about that; but what did you say your name was?" - -"Mike Barton. Your name?" - -"John Winthrope." - -"Do you work?" asked Mike. - -"I do." - -"Where?" - -"At Jarney & Lowman's." - -"Jarney & Lowman! Jarney! Jarney! Hah! Well, good morning," saying this -rapidly, Mike Barton stepped to the wet pavement, hugged the walls as he -went along, and disappeared directly. - -John Winthrope then resorted to a cheap restaurant. After eating a -hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs and coffee, he, having plenty of time -yet to spare, mozied out into the elemental downpour, and sauntered to -his office. He arrived there just in time to see the doors flung open to -let in an army of clerical men and women for the day. His shoes being -damp, he exchanged them for a pair of slippers, a supply of which aided -in cumbering up a rubbish room in the building. In selecting a pair, -through the scramble with the others, he was unfortunate enough to get a -size too small. Thus he was caused no little pain in his big toes during -the rest of the day, which detracted his attention a great deal from his -work. - -It was a busy day in the office of Jarney & Lowman, by reason of the -approaching end of the fiscal month; and he was therefore kept busy, -sparing not a moment from his accounting for casual conversation with -his associates, or for anything for that matter. - -In about the middle of the afternoon, while John was very industriously -setting down, and adding up, and balancing and counter balancing books -in his department, Miram Monroe, a thin, sleek, middle-aged gentleman, -with the polish of a Chesterfield about him, came up to him as silently -as a mouse steals up to a trap, and tapped him on the shoulder. - -Now, Mr. Monroe was the general manager of the office, and went about -his duties in such a sly unsentimental manner that no one could ever -unravel his motives when he approached an individual of the staff. There -was never any change in his expression, nor in the hump of his -shoulders, nor in his step, nor in his actions whenever he took upon -himself his bestowed privilege of approaching a subordinate, either to -inspect his work, or to tell him gently that his services were not -wanted longer. He was always the same in handing out his authority. He -never laughed. He never smiled. He never winked. He never talked, except -in a low voice, and then in an unrhythmic monotone. - -So, knowing the peculiar character of this gentleman, John had a severe -shock of surprise when he turned at the tap on his shoulder and beheld -the light brown eyes of Mr. Monroe shedding their unintelligible lustre -on him. - -"Mr. Winthrope," said Monroe, so smoothly, so gently, so mildly, so -blandly, that John felt a faintness steal all over him, "will you have -the kindness to step into the private office of Mr. Jarney?" - -Ho! John had never been in that office before. What did it all mean? Was -the head of the firm to dismiss him? For what? It was, indeed, a very -deep mystery to John. - -John obeyed the summons, and followed his conductor through many rooms, -with a fear possessing him all the while that he was to be summarily -dealt with for some unaccountable transaction with which he had been -charged. He was ushered to the inner sanctum of the head of the firm. He -saw Hiram Jarney sitting in a deep mahogany chair before a big mahogany -roll-top desk that stood in the center of one side of the room. On the -floor he saw a green Turkish rug, and on the green-tinted walls he saw, -displayed appropriately and proportionately about, steel engravings of -Washington, Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley and Roosevelt, the latter being -directly above Mr. Jarney's desk, from which high position that -bespectacled president and mighty nimrod continually looked down upon -him, as if he were the chief's main idol of modern strenuousness. - -John halted a moment, on seeing all these things, stepped lightly, with -his pinching slippers causing him to wince, into the deep velvet, as if -he were treading on a field of the most delicate violets. He took in the -room at a glance. He had never seen the head of the firm but once -before. This was the first time he had come face to face with the great -captain of industry. Although he was uncertain of the wishes of Mr. -Jarney to have him in his presence, he did not quail at advancing to be -presented; but he trembled unnecessarily over the fear that he might be -discharged, and thrown out of a position, for what, as he thought, as -the affair of the night before. - -"Mr. Jarney, this is Mr. Winthrope," said Monroe, almost in a whisper, -and he turned and left the room, going as quickly as a fleeing ghost. - -"Glad to meet you, Mr. Winthrope," said Mr. Jarney, rising and -presenting a warm hand. Mr. Jarney shook the extended hand of John's -with such vigor that John came near losing his tight-fitting slippers -and his balance in the pulling force of Mr. Jarney's grip. - -"I am glad to know you," returned John, recovering his surprise over Mr. -Jarney's graciousness. - -"Sit down," said Mr. Jarney, releasing John's hand, and motioning him to -a deep mahogany chair by his desk. John sat down. - -Without removing his eyes from John, Mr. Jarney drew a box of cigars out -of the depths of his desk, and, opening it, extended it toward him. - -"Have a smoke?" he said, pleasantly. - -"Thank you; I do not smoke," answered John, confusedly. - -"Good!" exclaimed Mr. Jarney, as he flapped the lid on the box. As he -laid it away he still kept his eyes on his visitor. - -John was so uncomfortable in the big chair, and the slippers were -pinching him so unmercifully, that he was very miserable. When he leaned -backward, he seemed to have fallen to the floor on his back; when he sat -up straight, his back pained him; when he leaned forward, he felt -awkward. - -"Young man," said Mr. Jarney, easily, lighting a cigar, and still -keeping his keen eyes on John, "this is an unusual procedure on my part, -you will no doubt think." - -"I don't know," gasped John. - -"Well," continued Mr. Jarney, "I have summoned you here for a quiet -chat." - -John wondered what this great man could find in him to talk about. - -"Yes, I want to talk with you," he continued. "You are a good young man, -I understand. How old are you?" - -"Twenty-two." - -"Hah! twenty-two; the proper age. Where is your home?" - -"In the city, at present." - -"I mean, where were you raised?" - -"In the mountains of Fayette county." - -"Hah! just so. Another point in your favor. Now, then, do you have any -money?" - -"None; only what I earn here." - -"How much is that?" - -"Fifteen per week." - -"Hah! what do you do with your money above your keep?" - -"Send it to my parents." - -"Hah! another point in your favor. With whom do you associate?" - -"Have not been in the city long enough to acquire intimate associates." - -"Hah! four good points in your favor. What is the extent of your -education?" - -"I attended the common schools of my district, then learned bookkeeping -and stenography at a business college." - -"Hah! five good points in your favor. That is enough. Would you like to -be my private secretary?" - -John was calm under the ordeal of this examination into his character -and habits and ability, answering the questions as deliberately as if he -were before a court-witness examiner. But when the last question was put -to him he became unduly nervous, as is so often true of young men of -sterling worth and latent capabilities. The question came so -unexpectedly and from such an unexpected source that he could not, at -first, clearly comprehend its meaning; nor could he frame an appropriate -answer on such a momentous proposition. While he was ambitious and -desirous of rising to an eminence in the world of business that would -place him where he thought he deserved, he, at the same time, knew his -failings, if any he had worth mentioning. - -"Mr. Jarney," said John, finally, after studying for a few moments; -"this has been unsought on my part, and is a great surprise. If I -deserve such a promotion, so soon after coming into your service, I -assure you I am thankful, and shall endeavor to make good." - -"I take it, then, that you have accepted?" said Mr. Jarney. - -"I have." - -"Mr. Winthrope, your duties will be to look after my private affairs. -You will have your office in the adjoining room. You are to be under no -one's orders but my own. Your salary will be increased to twenty-five -per week, and if you prove satisfactory, after a fair trial, which I -believe you will, you will be compensated according as I value your -services. Be at your desk at ten a. m. tomorrow. Now you may go." - -John arose; Mr. Jarney arose. They stood a moment looking at each other. -Mr. Jarney then laid his hand upon John's shoulder, and said: - -"Mr. Winthrope, I believe you will make good." - -"I will be faithful to any trust imposed in me," returned John. - -Together they walked across the room. Mr. Jarney opened the door, as he -said, "Good bye." John stepped out. The door closed behind him. John -stopped a few seconds before that blasted flower, Monroe, who gazed at -him without the least intimation of what was going on in his apparently -inactive brain. John gazed at Monroe as if he meant to inquire the -reason for his unimaginative stare, for he thought he wanted to ask a -question. John stood waiting for it to issue forth from his thin lips; -but, as none came, he went out through the labyrinth of offices, and to -his desk, where he resumed his pen and figuring as if nothing in the -world had come up to alter his preconceived routine of existence--except -the pinching slippers, which he soon discarded. - -At the quitting hour, Monroe, as empty as ever in his stare, came to him -and whispered: - -"He has told me of your promotion." - -"Yes," answered John, without looking up. - -"Your desk will be ready at ten." - -"Yes, I have been instructed." - -"Yes," returned Monroe; and he walked away, with the same mouse-like -tread he always assumed among the main office force. - -That evening, in his dingy little room, John meditated a long time over -this extraordinary turn in his wheel of fate. He could attribute it to -no other cause than the incident of the night before. What other reason -had Mr. Jarney for selecting him, he thought, for this important post, -when there were above him in the office men with more experience, more -capabilities, more knowledge of the world of business than he? Could it -be, he thought, that Mr. Jarney was repaying him for his gentlemanly -actions toward his daughter? Could it be? Mr. Jarney gave no reason for -his promotion, nor intimation as to why he favored him above so many -others who had been in his service so much the longer time. John never -thought that such men as Mr. Jarney give no reason for their actions, -except, perhaps, on graver questions. - -If it was not for that affair, then what was it? But why should Mr. -Jarney favor him for that? He had given Edith Jarney a great amount of -compound consideration. He thought of their chance meeting from the -viewpoint of one, who, knowing fully his lowly station, could not, by -any unheard of reasoning, ever hope to meet her on friendly or intimate -terms. He might chance upon her, of course, sometime, somewhere; but -that was, while possible, hardly likely--unless it should be in her -father's office. But recalling that he had never seen her there, nor -ever heard her name spoken in the office no more than if she did not -exist, he was still less inclined to a faint hope. Such young ladies -were not the topic of confabulating remarks among the employes of such -great fathers as hers. - -Still, with all his meditating, deliberating, weighing this and -balancing that, he could not get her out of his bucolic head. Ah, he -thought, he would fill a new position on the morrow! Perhaps she would -come to her father's office, sometime; not an improbable thing for Edith -to do. Then, in that event, he could only hope to bow to her as she -should switch her way in or out past him, with a toss of her dignified -head; or a contemptuous look out of her bright blue eyes; or, more like -it, to give him a blank stare for his presumptuous ogling. - -Would Edith Jarney do this? Dear Edith, it is hoped that John has a -wrong impression of you. - -So, after thinking on all these things, John could, in nowise, bring -himself to believe, or ever to expect that he would receive any -recognition from Edith. Therefore, with such extraneous ideas excluded -from his thoughts, he concluded that day-dreams were useless; and with -all the assumed wisdom that was stored up in his soul, he deliberately -cast her aside as beyond his attainment. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -PETER DIEMAN RECEIVES VISITORS. - - -Peter Dieman, since he had reached his present state of affluence and -influence, did not condescend to wait on customers. He was now above -that menial branch of his trade. He seldom went into his store, as a -clerk; but he went occasionally to settle some dispute, of one kind or -another, that Eli Jerey was continually involved in with some one of the -many people, who, for one reason or another, visited The Die. - -Eli, in this period of his trammeled existence, was a combative sort of -an individual--not through a natural disposition in that direction, but -mainly by force of circumstances. Being a creature who was impelled by -any line of action by the urgent necessity of earning his bread and -butter, he became a willing tool in the hands of Peter for the -furtherance of that man's business, or any other of the transactions -with which he might be connected. Eli, therefore, was a good servant -more through a sense of duty, than through any reason he would bring to -bear in applying himself. He might be classed with one of those trusties -who is purblind to any one else's good, save that of his employer. -Hence, he loved Peter, not for any attraction that the personality of -the man had for him, but simply for the job that he filled. - -Peter Dieman had that way about him that causes men of any rank, almost, -to bow down to force and power and money. While he was revolting in his -general aspect, as a man socially, he was certainly a genius when it -came to manipulating the "ropes" that so often lead men and women into -combinations against society's welfare. Even in the building up of an -established business in the marts of other men, he exhibited a wonderful -gift of sagacity in organization, and in a knack of accumulating wealth, -so far as his endeavors went in the one particular line that to the -world at large he was supposed to follow. - -One day Peter was sitting at his place of espial, intently concerned for -the time with the one predominating thought as to whether his -spider-like clerk, Eli Jerey, could accommodate all the customers he saw -in waiting, before any of them could get away without leaving a few -shekels behind. As he looked, he rubbed his hands nervously, -whimsically, naturally, as was his habit; then he squinted up one of his -piggish eyes, and scowled menacingly. The reason for this contorting -facial expression and revolutionary exhibition with his hands was that -he noted his clerk suddenly throw up his left arm to a guarding -position, rear backward, clinch his fists, look daggers out of his -cat-like eyes, and then lunge forward, with the force of a battering ram -going into execution. He also saw two other long arms whirling through -the air like a Dutch wind-wheel in motion, saw a head duck, saw the -bodies of two men writhe and squirm, and then saw them fall together on -a bundle of dirty coiled-up ropes. Seeing all which, he put down his -pipe, put on his black cap, and waddled out with the intensity of the -furies spread over the wide expanse of his red and rounded visage. - -"Wow!" he roared like an exploding blunderbuss. "What in God Almighty's -name be you doing, Eli?" - -Eli did not look up to respond to the query. He could not look up had he -wanted to. The stranger, with whom Eli was in combat, had him gripped so -tightly around the neck with one arm, that Eli could neither hurt his -antagonist, nor get hurt himself. All that Eli could do was to breathe -heavily, strike out at random with his one free hand, hitting the ropes, -the floor, a bench leg, and many other things about him. Meanwhile the -stranger seemed to lie contentedly on his back surveying the upper -regions of the interior of the junkery. - -When Peter came up to the combatants, he stopped, with his hands upon -his hips, and his arms akimbo, sized up the situation in an instant, and -then seized Eli by the scruff of the neck, and raised him to the floor, -with his victim still clinging to him in a very loving-like embrace, and -with Eli still beating the air at random with his free hand. - -"Loosen yourself, brute!" squealed Peter to the stranger. "Loosen -yourself, I say!" he shouted. - -But the stranger paid no heed to him. Whereupon, Peter, using his fat -hands as an entering wedge, heaved away with mighty force, to left and -to right, and the twain came asunder. The stranger now stood back, with -tousled head and frightful mien, glaring savagely at Eli; while Eli -looked the same in the matter of dishevelment, his scanty face showed -little more of the baser passions than would a paving stone. - -"You rascals! What's all this about?" demanded Peter, directing his eyes -on Eli. - -"Nothing," piped Eli. - -Then turning to the stranger, who was a young man, Peter said, -stentoriously: "Clear out at once!" - -The stranger took up his fallen hat, turned malevolently upon Peter, and -hissed: "All right, you hog! You will pay dear for such an insult!" He -turned toward Eli. "You scoundrel," he shouted, "your master keeps you -here to insult people--" but he did not finish the sentence, so wroth -was he in his anger. - -Peter rubbed his hands so rapidly that it would be a wild guess to say -whether he was doing it in jest or in earnest. The stranger proceeded -toward the front door. - -"Wait!" exclaimed Peter, as the stranger was about to make his exit. - -The young man turned about, very deliberately, in his tracks, leered at -Peter as if he would again hurl a terrible threat at him, but he said -nothing. - -"Mike Barton," commanded Peter, for that is whom the young man proved to -be, "come to my office." - -Whereupon, Peter led the way, and Mike Barton followed him to the little -black office. Peter removed his cap, resumed his pipe, and sat down, -wheezing like an asthmatic pup, near his place of espionage; and he -looked curiously at Mike, who had taken a seat unbidden. - -"What was the trouble, Mike?" he asked. - -"I simply sought to pass him to get to your office, when he confronted -me with the insulting remark, 'No pimps allowed in there--your -office--without permission of the boss.'" - -"He's a good clerk, Mike; he is; and he serves me well." - -"Too well, Mr. Dieman, for your safety." - -"Ha, ha! Well, he has my instructions, and you know the password to this -office." - -"I do, sir; but I resent the insult." - -"All right, my boy, it's over with now; Eli is a good one for me, you -know." - -"I reckon he is," returned Mike. - -"Now, what can I do for you?" asked Peter, eyeing Mike with one of his -singularly inquisitorial stares, which gave Mike a spell of the fidgets. - -"I was sent here by the keeper of our place to know the outlook for a -continuance of police protection," he replied without any circumlocution -about saying what he had in mind. - -"Eh!" Peter ejaculated. - -"Yes; we want to know--or they want to know. What's the prospects?" - -"Eh?" - -"What's the prospects? is my question," said Mike, surlily, put out by -the evasiveness of Peter. - -"Hey?" - -"You have my question." - -"I have." - -"Then answer me." - -"How much more is it worth?" - -"You and your gang are getting enough already," retorted Mike. - -"Don't get gay, young man; don't get gay," said Peter, raising his furzy -eyebrows with surprise. "You people are in business--I'm in -business--we're all in business--for money." - -"Yes, Peter, yes; all in business--all in business--a nasty thing it is, -sir, this grafting business," returned Mike. "But my employers are -getting tired of having their legs pulled so often. All the profits -already go to your bunch--how can they pay any more?" - -"Eh, young man, you are talking a little too gay--a little too gay, for -one of your experience; hey?" - -"Well, it's the truth," answered Mike. - -"What have I to do with that? Yes, I, sir; I? Answer me that question?" -asked Peter, with a little more animation than he had previously shown -in the conversation. - -"A whole d---- lot!" exclaimed Mike. - -"Don't! don't! don't! boy! Don't cause me to throw you out!" roared -Peter, now looking out his peephole. - -"I am not a bit afraid of you--no more than I am of that door knob," -answered Mike, haughtily. - -"Maybe not, Mike; but you fellows must be reasonable," said Peter, less -uproariously than before. - -"So must you fellows," remarked Mike, placidly, as he indolently shifted -one leg over the other and bent forward. - -Peter pursued his quest no further for a few moments, being interested -in Eli in the outer room. He drummed with his fingers on one arm of the -chair, then rubbed his fat hands together. Peter then turned to Mike, as -Mike said: - -"I want to know, Mr. Dieman, what your gang intends doing?" - -"One thousand more per month," was Peter's reply. - -"That means two thousand for our house, does it?" - -"If I figure right, it does." - -"Then, you can go--to--h----!" returned Mike, rising to depart. - -"Five hundred will do this time," said Peter, now feeling inclined to be -decent in such a deal. - -"Go to----" responded Mike, looking back at Peter over his shoulder, as -he turned to go out the door. - -"Set down, boy, and be respectable," said Peter in a mollifying tone. -"Anything new, Mike?" - -"Nothing unusual, only I hear that my sister left home today for a finer -home in the East End." - -"Did sh-e-e?" asked Peter, with a comical leer out of his right eye, -which he turned upon Mike, as if the information was of vast importance -to him. - -"She did," answered Mike. - -"Good for her!" said Peter, musingly. "When did you learn this?" - -"This afternoon, when I was home for the first time since I got my new -job, over three months now," replied Mike, looking down at the floor. "I -meant to take her out of that place myself to a finer one, where life is -worth while; but she eluded me--if that is the right word, eh." - -"Did you intend taking her to the place where you work?" asked Peter. - -"I did." - -"I have always had such a notion of you in my head," said Peter, -squinting at Mike. - -"You had? How did you know?" shouted Mike. - -"Guessed as much," said Peter, rubbing and looking Mike squarely in the -face. - -"You old reprobate!" exclaimed Mike, hotly. - -"Be careful, boy; be careful. I am no fool," admonished Peter, unruffled -as yet, in outward signs. "What other news?" - -"I understand my sister's at Hiram Jarney's home," said Mike. - -"Yes," responded Peter. - -"A strange coincidence," mused Mike. "I met a young man named Winthrope -this morning, who works in Jarney's office." - -"Good or bad subject?" asked Peter. - -"Bad--I judge from his answers." - -"That's good," said Peter, rubbing his hands vigorously. - -"I don't understand," said Mike. - -"You don't?" quizzed Peter, drawling out the words sluringly. - -"No, d---- if I do!" - -"Well, then go about your miserable business and quit bothering me," -commanded Peter. - -"You haven't answered me yet about police protection," said Mike. - -"Oh, go away; they'll not bother you," replied Peter, impatiently, -shaking his head as if he were shaking the words out of his mouth. - -"Have I your word for it?" demanded Mike. - -"That's all I have to say. Go!" snorted the now exasperated Peter, -resuming his habitual work of spying. - -Mike retreated, like a man who is cornered by a bear in his den, going -out at the opportune time. Passing through the store he beheld Eli -looking as dumbly as a lamppost at him. Mike skinned his eyes, as it -were, lest Eli should pounce upon him again, and complete the operation -of a sound threshing. But Mike got safely to the outer door, and was -about to go out, when he turned and hurled back at Eli, shaking his -fist: - -"I'll fix you, you hireling!" - -Eli, becoming riled at the threatening taunt, made a rush for Mike, like -a terrier after a scampering cat; but Mike soon disappeared around a -corner, leaving Eli standing in the door shaking his fist at the -vanishing figure, who did not cease running till he got two or three -blocks away, so fearful was he of Eli. - -As Eli turned to re-enter the shop, he ran counter to a man--a tall, -slouchy fellow with a stubby moustache, short hair, red nose, round -face, brown eyes, white complexioned--who had entered unobserved, while -Eli was sending his sworn enemy threateningly away. The man sallied -lazily through the alleys of junk, paying no heed whatever to the -ubiquitous clerk, who was dogging his heels at every turn for an -opportunity to inquire about his wants. Several times Eli was sure the -man was about to stop and make reply to his questions; but in this he -was sorely disappointed. For the man proceeded till he came to the door -of Peter's cubby-hole, and was in the act of entering it, when, to his -astonishment, he found Eli wraithing up before him in the doorway. The -man hesitated for an instant, gave Eli a contemptuous smile, then, with -a quick sweep of his strong arm, thrust him aside, as if he were only a -part of The Die's junk that had got into his way. Eli, of course, was -taken off his feet, both figuratively and literally, and went sprawling -in a heap in a corner, on a pile of rubbish. - -"Come in!" shouted Peter to the man, with no thought as to what harm -might have befallen the dutiful Eli, who, on catching his master's voice -as meaning an intimate acquaintanceship with the man, gathered himself -together, and took up his burdens still feeling unsquelched as a -faithful servant. - -"Well, Jim," said Peter to the man, when he seated himself, "how's -things going these days?" - -"Well enough," answered Jim Dalls. - -"Ford & Ford got the contract?" said Peter, without a semblance of his -gladness over the matter in his own face. - -"Yes; they got it; but hell'll be to pay some day for that dirty piece -of work," answered Jim Dalls, moodily. - -"That's a hard old place to satisfy," remarked Peter. - -"Can't be worse than the grafters of this old city," returned Dalls. - -"Don't be pessimistic, Jim." - -"Don't like to be; but, I say, there'll be a reckoning up some day, I -suppose, when the people once wake up, and find out what is going on in -this old town." - -"Ah, the people; the dear people," answered Peter; "they don't know -enough to eat mud pies." - -"Why, haven't they been fed on them a long time, eh, Peter? Their -stomachs will revolt at the mess sometime, Peter; then, look out!" - -"Have no fear, Jim; have no fear; they'll never catch us," replied -Peter, with confidence in his secureness behind the throne of graft. - -"But, nevertheless, it is rotten business, Peter; rotten business, and I -am tired of playing the game," said Dalls. - -"Oh, I'm not; I'll play it till I die," returned Peter, with a bravado -air. - -"You can afford to, Peter; it's been a gold mine to you and your -backers. But to me? Look at me! Nothing is all I get--nothing but a -pittance." - -"You are paid well, Jim," said Peter, severely. - -"Paid well; yes; but it takes it all to keep those below me in line." - -"Well, what more do you want, Jim?" - -"Nothing--I'm quitting the business." - -"Ho! you are? You can't quit, Jim; you can't. If you do, what'll become -of the ring?" asked Peter, now for the first time bringing his reasoning -faculties into play in connection with such a probable event. - -"Bust, I suppose," replied Dalls. - -"Never!" exclaimed Peter. - -"I am going to quit, I tell you, Peter." - -"How much do you want to go away from here?" asked Peter, rubbing and -squinting. - -"Ten thousand," replied Jim Dalls, slowly. - -"You are cheap," said Peter. "Come around tomorrow, when I will pay you -and furnish a ticket for you to Europe." - -"Agreed, Peter! Shake! I always knew you'd be on the square with me. But -put it down in writing," returned Dalls, with less gloom pictured in his -face than when he entered. - -"I never put anything down in writing, Jim; particularly such things as -we have been discussing. I consider my word good, Jim," answered Peter, -palaveringly. - -"I'll take you at your word, then, Peter." - -"Very well; you have been a good lieutenant, Jim, and we don't like to -lose you. But if you have scruples on the matter, Jim, I want you to -leave--get out of the country, and stay out till I call you back. Jim, -do you understand?" - -"Just so I get the cash, I'll go anywhere, Peter," answered Jim Dalls. - -"That will do, then, Jim; come tomorrow at two," said Peter. - -"You have a mighty obnoxious clerk out here," said Dalls, rising to go -away. - -"Oh, he's all right, Jim; you know the password, and didn't give it," -replied Peter. - -"That's my fault, then," answered Dalls, as he stepped into the shop, -there to encounter the angry look of Eli, who was at that moment waiting -on a customer, or otherwise there might have been another little affray, -on the spot. - -Jim Dalls, as he was familiarly known among Peter's henchmen, had been a -member of the present political ring since its inception back in the -early nineties. He had now but a poor chance of ever rising higher in -the ranks than a poorly paid lieutenant; and so what was the use, he -argued with himself, of playing third fiddle any longer, if there was -any likelihood at all of getting out with a good round sum in cash. So, -as a bluff, he preferred to work the "conscientious scruple" scheme to -get what he thought was due him for his valiant services in the -corporals' guard of the gang; and he went to Peter playing that he -wanted to lead a new life, and his bluff worked out better than he ever -anticipated. - -It was very necessary, in the workings of this mysterious institution, -that whenever an officer felt conscience stricken to remove him, with -great dispatch, from the scene of operation, so as to keep out the light -of investigation when house-cleaning time should come, which it would -sometime. Jim Dalls had been bred in the business and knew its entire -ramifications in every branch of civic affairs of the city. He had not -prospered in it, as some others had, considering the length of his -services and the good that he had done, and the care he had taken in -fighting for success. He had not been raised to the sublime degree in -the ranks of the upper luminaries, where marched the fitted, to which -others had been raised, considering the amount of service he had put -into the cause. He had not been treated as equitably in the division of -the spoils that had come into the coffers of the charmed circle of -grafters, as others had been treated, considering the sum of his own -earnings he had put into the hands of his own satellites shining around -him, as those above him shone around the great center of this gigantic -solar system. In consequence, the monster, Disaffection, lurked within -his breast, and became a thing for the master minds to watch with care. -Yes, watch with care, and hold in check. - -Of course, Jim Dalls was no squealer. No--if he got his price. And now, -getting his price, he would leave the city. He would leave his country; -and go to Europe, and live like an American Captain of Industry lives in -that land when his native soil becomes sterile in its bountifulness of -pleasure. Yes, he would go to Europe at the behest of his superiors, so -that he could not, for a time, tamper with any of their marked cards, -and cause a breaking up in their game. - -And to Europe he would go, with his trusting wife and family believing -that he had earned his lucre honestly; and they proudly looked every one -in the face, believing that the world is on the square. - -Oh Europe! Europe! If you only knew the private history of many of those -Americans you receive with open arms, craft and graft and greed you -would see as their only virtues. - -But, ho! Let us smile, instead of crying at their follies. For no nation -ever yet raised a monument to men representing such principles. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -A THANKSGIVING PARTY. - - -In Oakland avenue there stands another mansion. It is a lofty pile of -brownish stone, and is luxuriously complete in its every detail. -Standing as it does on a prominent hill, it comes in for a great share -of excellent praise for its beauty and magnificence, and is classed as a -close rival of that other mansion in Highland avenue. - -Here lived, when in the effulgence of his power and influence in the -complicated machinery of a big city, one Jacob Cobb--a short, squatty, -round-faced, blue-eyed, clear-complexioned man of business, so far as -anybody knew about his worldly affairs. Here his wife Betty, and -daughters, Susanna and Marjorie, entertained the eclat of society -according to the à la mode of fashion; and many were the gay parties, -balls and dinners that they gave for the select few constituting their -circle of acquaintances. - -Charming, indeed, were these great affairs, unrivaled in all their -appointments in the high-toned residential district in this unequaled -city of social madness and financial debauchery. Oh, yes; charming they -were, indeed, to those select of the very select who pandered to Mammon -in the workaday hours and to Bacchus in the time of refreshment. - -Aye, aye; here came the proud, the haughty, the vapid, the insipid; the -hilarious strumpets of swelldom, the strutting monstrosities of fashion, -the pompous parrots of mimicry; the glib scandal-mongers, the gregarious -loiterers over afternoon teas; the straight-laced of the kid-gloved -gentry, the snobs, the prudes, the fops; the blase young men, the -genteel puppets, the vacuous gentlemen, the bombasts, the old -curmudgeons; the doting mothers, the innocent maidens; with now and then -a sprinkling of the good, the sage, the savant, as a savory condiment to -the mess of social pottage the Cobbs dished out of their pot of ethics. - -These events were wonderful achievements in the life of Mrs. Cobb, and -Mr. Cobb paid the bills without a murmur or complaint. - -Mrs. Cobb was sumptuously independent in the conduct of these affairs. -All the glories of the Queen of Henry of Navarre could not equal her -glorious accomplishments in the one great and only ambition of her -life--shining in society. Mr. Cobb was bumptuously indifferent as to how -his wife shone, just so she shone, and that in her shining she did not -obfuscate him altogether. - -Mrs. Cobb was chunky, like her husband. She was the quintessence of -charm. She was the substantive mood of the present tense of the verb to -be. She was gay, humorous, and a true leader--in her line of activity. -She was near the middle time of life, but she had lost little of her -beauty. Her dark brown eyes snapped like sparks of fire, and her cheeks -glowed pink when she was enjoying the company around her; when in a -different mood, she ever had the fine quality of knowing how to be -pleasant when most bored. - -Mrs. Cobb's afternoons were of course mild affairs, but still very grand -to all those idle ladies who deemed it a distinctive honor to receive an -invitation, and a compliment to their refinement to be there. -Accomplishment and refinement! O, fudge! - -Mrs. Cobb must celebrate Thanksgiving day. She and her husband must -offer up their oblation, in their own unhampered fashion, to the -gracious Lord who had blessed them with so much to be thankful for. And -they did celebrate. - -It was to be an unsurpassed dinner at seven, a violation of the rule of -etiquette for such state affairs; but as dancing was to follow, the -order of formality was modified, so that the exhilarating whirl could -thereby be prolonged. She, therefore, sent out the exact number of fifty -invitations, equally distributed among ladies and gentlemen. The dinner -was served in the great dining room, dazzling with its silver, gold, -glass and polished wood, with carnations and roses burdening the air -with their mesmeric fragrance. - -Promptly at the hour of seven, Mr. Cobb, with Mrs. Cobb on his arm, -struck out through the maze of palms and smilax and other greenery, for -the feasting board. Arriving at the table, with her husband, she -delivered him at the head, and she took a seat on his right hand (all -contrary to form, but she was original, if anything), with her favorite -bachelor friend, Miram Monroe, on Mr. Cobb's left, as a cold balancing -weight to old man Cobb's ebulliting spirits. Next to Mr. Monroe sat Miss -Edith Jarney. Jasper Cobb sat opposite Miss Jarney, and by his side was -Miss Star Barton; and so on down the long table sat the other -sublunaries of the Cleopatra of fashion, the number not stopping till a -second long table was filled with similarly handsomely gowned ladies, -and gloomily groomed gentlemen, with the Cobb girls sitting among them -in peek-a-boo fluffiness. - -"Mr. Monroe," said Mrs. Cobb, after having made some trifling remarks to -some of the other guests, showing her white teeth with the vivaciousness -of a young girl, "you appear not to be enjoying yourself tonight." - -"Oh, yes, Mrs. Cobb," he replied, with a board-like stiffness, "I am -delighted." - -"Mrs. Cobb," interjected her husband, beaming one of his sly winks at -her, "you should not tease Mr. Monroe tonight. Just behold the fair -young lady he has by his side!" - -"Mr. Cobb, you are so jolly tonight," she answered. "Mr. Monroe did not -salute me when he arrived this evening, so I am in ill-humor with him." - -"Beg your pardon, Mrs. Cobb," said the ghostly Monroe. "The fact is I -had no opportunity. Sure, madam, I would not slight you for the world, -did you give me the opportunity." - -"Mr. Monroe," said Mrs. Cobb, in her best humor, "you must get rid of -your rigidity of expression, or I will be compelled to get another man, -younger than you, to take your place. I am now almost tempted to put my -son in your place; Jasper, you know." - -"I will not hear to that, Mrs. Cobb," interrupted Edith. "Why, I shall -attempt to enliven Mr. Monroe." Then to that sedate imbecile, she said: -"Mr. Monroe, cheer up. See, every gentleman present but you is in the -fullness of his grandiose verboseness tonight. Cheer up, and be alive -for once!" - -Mr. Monroe turned a lethargic smile upon Edith, and whispered, loud -enough for his near auditors to hear: "Miss Jarney will do me the -pleasure, I am sure, of reaching me the salt." - -"Why, with pleasure--salt--salt," said Edith, with a gay and mischievous -laugh. "This man--waiter, waiter--wants some salt to salt down his -opinion of women's rights." - -"Good, good!" applauded Mrs. Cobb. "Now, what are your opinions of -women's rights, Mr. Monroe?" - -"I am salting them down," he replied, sadly, as he began to spray most -liberally his salad, which looked, before he ceased, as if it would be -in a brine of thick salineness. "My opinion of women is--aside from my -mother--that they are a lot of soap bubbles." - -"You bad man," said Mrs. Cobb, lowering her eyebrows; "that is no -definition. Women's rights--what is your opinion?" - -"They haven't any rights, save what the men choose to give them," he -whispered looking at Edith, with as much expression as a monkey. - -"You bleak old bachelor," retorted Mrs. Cobb. "Edith will never have you -for saying that." - -Edith turned a wrathful glance upon Mrs. Cobb, and gave a scornful laugh -at the jest. Then she turned to Mr. Monroe, who had ceased in his -rapid-fire eating long enough to look at her like a plaster cast might -look. - -"Miss Edith," said Jasper Cobb, who had been earnestly engaged with Miss -Barton, paying her the closest attention with his palavering nonsense, -"I am jealous of Mr. Monroe." - -"Indeed," returned Edith. - -"I am, indeed," he answered, and the impropriety of his remark struck -Edith's ear discordantly. - -"What a great teaser you are, Jasper," said Mrs. Cobb. - -"A chip of the old block," said Mr. Cobb, smiling at his joke, as he -took it to be. - -"Jasper does not mean a word of it," said Mrs. Cobb, at the same time -hoping that he did. - -"With due consideration for my friend, Mr. Monroe," said Edith, "I will -turn my attention to him." - -Then Edith summoned up all her latent substitutes for naturalness, and -bore down upon Mr. Monroe with such a load of banter and mirthful -sayings that that gentleman eventually smiled, to the surprise of -everybody. Then it became alarmingly noticeable that Mr. Monroe was -paying close attention to Edith's highly interesting but entirely -assumed form of gabbling--so much so, in fact, that it was feared by -Mrs. Cobb once that he was on the point of taking Edith in his unloving -embrace, and running away with her. But Mrs. Cobb saved him from this -duncely possibility by saying: - -"Be careful, Mr. Monroe, or you will do something desperate directly!" - -Mr. Monroe quickly recovered himself and became a living sphynx again. - -"Hah, Miss Edith," said Jasper Cobb, catching the trend of things -Edithward, "now, I am jealous." - -Miss Edith turned to him, with pretended hautiness, and should liked to -have said, "Impudence," but forbore that unlady-like expression in -deference to her own good breeding. She was relieved, however, from -making any answer to him by Mr. Cobb, who arose at that critical moment -and announced, most graciously and grandiloquently, that the table would -be cleared of the women and menu to make way for cigars and wine. - -All of which orders being carried into execution, as per custom, the -waiters proceeded to serve those two refreshing desserts. They sat long -over their cigars, and longer over their wine--till the air was an -ultramarine blueness, and the men in tipsy joyousness. - -Mr. Monroe was very thirsty, it turned out, from the number of glasses -that he drained, which had an happy effect upon him. For, with the -disappearance of the wine down his esophagus, came a set grin on his -face, akin to the smile of a disgruntled ghost. Young Cobb, aside from -smoking enormously, imbibed freely, much against his personal appearance -and qualifications to enter much farther into the pleasures of the -evening. All the other gentlemen, including old man Cobb, entered into -the libations with rare partiality--except Mr. Jarney, who, it was seen, -refrained from participating in the dispatching of the invigorating -liquor, a constitutional habit with him. This trait was looked upon by -his now inebriating friends as a high breach of etiquette in not sipping -wine after breaking bread at the home of a friend, and was an affront -not to be condoned on such an occasion. But Mr. Jarney, while not -approving of such bacchanalian practices, as far as he and his family -were concerned, looked askance at them, so long as they were confined to -others, and he made no protest. - -After the free lubrication of their unsettled nerves and muddled heads, -the men arose to join the ladies, who in the meantime had dressed for -the ball, now to follow. - -When all was in readiness and the band had struck up a softly -insinuating waltz, Mr. and Mrs. Cobb wheeled out on the floor and glided -around the room with the agility of two sixteen-year-olds. Mr. and Mrs. -Jarney came after them, stately and graceful in their evolutions. Then -came the ghost--Monroe--looking like a piece of burning asbestos, as a -result of the wine, with his arm around the waist of Miss Edith. Then -came young Cobb, whispering words of foolishness into the ear of Miss -Barton, as they went round and round in a delirious whirl--to him. Then -came all the other ladies and gentlemen, the latter suffering wondrously -in the advanced stage of booziness. No, we will not cast all the shame -upon the men in their journey of giddiness, for some of the bewitching -woman, ah, and even unbewitching, too, presumed it their blessed -privilege to partake of a little of the tonic of joy, as an equalizer to -the wabbling motions of their husbands or friends. - -Number after number, in this wise, was pulled off, each time the bibbers -adding more and more wine as a wash down after each exhausting -exhibition. So in consequence, after awhile, man after man began to fall -by the wayside, and call feebly upon the good Samaritan: Bromo-seltzer, -or bromo-something else: to keep them in condition to continue the mad -seance. But the little imp Wine, once he secrets himself in the -corpuscles of the blood, is a pretty difficult being to placate in so -short a time. Not satisfied was he in laying hold of the faultless -gentlemen in spike-tailed coats and immaculate bosoms, sparkling with -all the iridescence of the purchasing power of money, but he sought out -some of the decolleted dames and gauzyed damsels, and enveloped them in -his opiatic arms. Even Mr. and Mrs. Cobb were not spared from his -envelopment; for, after the fourth set, they became so maudlin in their -hilarity that the sober servants were called upon to lead them out of -the ballroom, from which they went, in a great state of regal debility, -into the seclusion of their own bedchamber, there to sleep away their -Thanksgiving potation. - -And it was not long till every corner in the house had a sleeper -languishing in the happy shades of somnolence. Mr. Monroe, the astute -ghost of quietness, after cavorting for a considerable time like a nanny -goat in a field of crimson clover, was among the first to succumb to the -silencing influence of the giver of potency, and disappeared, like a -settling stone, into a whirlpool of revelry. And young Jasper Cobb, the -gay and handsome son of the Thanksgiving father and mother, after -cutting capers that would put to ignominious flight a colored gen'man at -a cake walk, gave up the contest at last and became numbered among the -recumbent forms that rested, like so many babes in the woods, along the -walls. - -You are not supposed to believe that the Jarneys witnessed all these -antics of the merry makers at this party, to which a half column space -in the society page of the Sunday newspapers was devoted. No, you are -not to believe they remained, retaining all their senses, to witness -this pyretic debauch of high society. The truth is, that the Jarneys -came as a matter of form in deference to Mr. Cobb, one of the high-ups -in business; and they left in deference to their conscience and -self-respect. The fact is, that after the second number was rendered, -Mr. and Mrs. Jarney, seeing how things were going, and also at the -solicitation of Miss Edith, took their ward, Star Barton, and repaired -to their home. - -"Well, how do you like high society?" asked Edith, when she and Star had -reached their boudoir for a short lounging before going to bed. - -"If that party is a fair sample, I don't like it," emphatically answered -Star. "Why, it is no more respectable, if half as much, with all their -fine things and glitter, than some of the hoe-downs in Hell's Half -Acre." - -"I am very sorry we attended," said Edith. - -"I am not," returned Star. "It has been a great lesson to me." - -"Would you go again?" asked Edith. - -"I shall always be guided by you, dear Edith." - -"Then you will have no further opportunity to attend a function of that -kind, for that is the last for me," said Edith; "especially with that -class of people. Papa and mamma care nothing for such doings; neither do -I; but owing to business connections, we are obliged to lend our -presence, sometimes. Formality! Star; formality!" - -"Is it one of the requirements of business?" asked Star, innocently. - -"It is a deplorable truth," answered Edith. - -"I am glad, dear Edith, you are not wrapped up, heart and soul, with -such people," said Star. - -"It is my pleasure to be independent, Star." - -"And I shall follow your example, dear Edith," returned Star, with -unbounden confidence in her friend. - -"Say, Star," said Edith, as she seated herself on an ottoman at the feet -of Star, and taking one of Star's hands in hers, "I have a trip planned -for you; will you go?" - -"If it is your wish, I will," answered Star. - -"Star," and Edith looked up into her friend's face, blushing the least -bit, "you remember the young man of whom I was telling you about meeting -by chance? Yes. He is now my father's private secretary." - -"Oh, is he?" asked Star, by rote. - -"Yes; and by my request, too. I will take you to my father's office -tomorrow, and, if he is there, you shall share his acquaintance with -me." - -"I shall be glad to meet him--if he is your friend," said Star. - -"He is my friend, Star--no, not yet--but I want him to be, Star," and -Edith buried her head in Star's lap to hide her tell-tale face. Then -raising her head, in a moment, "Will you go? Of course you will." - -"If you permit me to talk with him," said Star, teasingly, "I will go." - -"Who would think of being jealous of you, my dear Star? Why should I? He -is no more--yes, he is--" and Edith buried her face again, while Star -stroked her long silken tresses in loving admiration. - -"Ho, ho, Edith! I know," said Star, pointing a finger of jest at her, as -she raised her face. - -"Do you guess my secret, Star?" - -"Why, dear girl, I cannot help but know it." - -"And you will keep it, Star?" - -"To my dying day. Does he know it?" - -"Oh, no, no; I have seen him only once. Do you think it right in me, -Star?" - -"I don't know, Edith. How will you ever make it known to him?" - -"Oh, Star! I do not wish to; I do not wish to! He must find it out for -himself. I know he is such a fine young man; for my father even praises -him." - -"He may never know it, Edith," said Star, not yet knowing herself the -secrets of love, as old as she was; albeit, she possessed a true sense -of the great mystery of life; "and then what?" - -"I can only live in hope that he will, some day, see and know. Do you -think it wrong in me, Star, to say these things?" - -"If it is from your heart, no." - -"Let me kiss you, Star? There!" - -Love comes to a pure woman veiled in mystery, and departs only when her -spirit returns unto God who gave it. Were they all as pure as Edith, the -temptations of our modern Edens would be as holy as the waters of -Siloam's Pool. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -JOHN WINTHROPE'S SECOND PROMOTION. - - -John Winthrope had a small cozy room by himself off the main office of -Hiram Jarney. It was about the size of a twelve by sixteen rug, and so -richly furnished that when he got into it, he felt as if he had been -clandestinely concealed in a bandbox lined with rare and costly velvets. - -There were a green rugget on the floor, a miniature roll-top desk in one -corner, glistening in its polish; a typewriting desk near a wide plate -glass window; a cabinet for letter stationery; three leather-seated -mahogany chairs, one at each desk, and another for company. The walls -were green tinted, and around them John had hung some landscape pictures -in chromo, mostly rural scenes; photographs of his parents; one of a -mountain girl, his sister; one of a big young man, his brother; and -those of two boyhood friends. - -Every morning at nine o'clock John came into this palatial private -office. First, he perused the morning newspapers, then looked over the -bundle of private letters that came to the head of the firm, and -assorted them according to the postmark, or the nature he judged of the -contents as near as he could make out from outside indications; after -which he placed them in a letter tray, got ready his note book, and -placed them all together orderly, to be picked up, at the ring of the -bell, to be carried to the desk of Mr. Jarney, who arrived at the -office, when in the city, every day punctually at ten. - -John learned rapidly. A week had not gone by, after he assumed his new -post, till he was master of every detail of a secretary's work in such -an important place. He was quick in taking down the dictation of Mr. -Jarney, who was a rapid talker, a clear enunciator, never lacking for -the exact word to lucidly express himself. John was speedy on the -typewriter; hence he was but a brief time in conveying, what would -appear to the average person, the unintelligible phonetic characters -into Englishized words, sentences, paragraphs, and finally completed -letters, ready for the chirography of that great man to be attached -thereto. Many letters of little importance, such as from the beggars, -cranks, politicians, boodlers, or of the routine kind, John was soon -authorized to answer himself, to the relief of the chief. - -For a whole week John had been at this pleasureable labor, doing it with -far greater ease than he had the more arduous task of keeping books; and -he did it with such dispatch that Mr. Jarney was surprised at his -adeptness, and he favored him with due commendation. - -For several days Mr. Jarney was taciturn in the presence of his new -secretary. He talked with him purely on matters in hand after the -dictating period was over, and then but briefly. Not once for nearly a -week did he condescend to converse with him on any other -question--except that occasionally he would remark about the continuing -"beastly weather," as he invariably termed such climatic conditions. - -John went through the daily routine earnestly and methodically, with no -thought for anything but that he might make good, and prove himself -worthy of his hire; and also thinking very often of his good old -parents, his dear little sister and big strong brother on the farm in -the hills. He had dismissed Edith Jarney from his mind, as a lost cause -goes before the reasoning man. He had not seen her, nor heard of her, -since that memorable night. He was not presumptuous enough to imagine -that she would contaminate her thoughts about him. For why should he be -so imaginative? He had no reason for believing that such a conventional -lady, as she appeared to be (basing his opinion of her on her station), -would ever think of the affair one moment after she was gone out of his -sight, or was ensconced in her own palatial home, where the shadow of -such as he was not likely of ever being cast. - -Still, in his idle moments, he would revert to the event, and simply -wonder what had become of her: whether she had gone to some sunnier -clime to bask in the smiles and receive the addresses of richer bloods -than his; or whether she was not then leading a gay existence among her -class in the gilded halls of her surroundings, where flash and gleam the -lads and maidens of her own selected set in the brighter light that -luxury provides. - -But such musings were on rare occasions, and then only reverted to as a -pleasing pastime in his lonesome hours. For, since assuming his new -duties, he not only was serving his own master, but was serving himself -by reading, studying, and working out the mysteries that surrounded the -privacy of Mr. Jarney's business. He did this so that, if the time ever -came, he should be fitted to perform further duties in the advancing -line. However, no matter how busy he was, there were times when -homesickness would steal over him, and he would long for his own people -and their humble fireside to soften his distraught feelings, whenever -they should assert themselves. - -Be these things as they may, two weeks, almost, had passed by since he -went into his bandbox office, when Edith Jarney, accompanied by Star -Barton, came to see her father. - -The time was in the middle of the afternoon. Mr. Jarney was sitting at -his desk dictating a third and last batch of letters, and John was -sitting by diligently taking notes. Edith opened the office door of her -own accord, and she and Star walked within unannounced. Edith was -dressed in dark colors in harmony with the weather. She carried a -sealskin muff, and had a boa of the same fur around her neck, and the -cutest round hat possible sat upon her head. Verily, she looked like a -princess out on winter parade as she advanced toward a broad, flat-top -table in the center of the room. Star, dressed much in the same fashion, -and looking as stately as any lady at court, followed Edith. - -Both young ladies sat down at the table to await Mr. Jarney's -convenience to greet them. John was sitting with his back to them, and -so silent was their tread that he did not hear them enter. His pen flew -from left to right on the pages of his note book as Mr. Jarney talked in -his low monotonous voice, without inflection to his words, or change in -his countenance. Mr. Jarney saw the young ladies enter, but, through a -habit of his of never being disturbed when in the throes of grinding out -letters, the young ladies' coming did not bother him in the least. - -Edith and Star sat quietly, abiding their time to speak. Edith tapped -the polished top of the table with her gloved hand. Star sat meditating, -with her eyes bent upon the young man. Thus they sat for ten minutes or -more, watching master and servant at the fountain head of industrial -achievement. - -Then, without a word to John, Mr. Jarney arose; and, coming forward, -grasped his daughter by the hand and kissed her on the lips. Turning to -Star, he accorded her the same fatherly greeting. - -John arose as Mr. Jarney arose, and was folding his note book as he was -taking a step to make his exit. In that moment, when Mr. Jarney was -saluting Edith, he looked toward her. Recognizing the young lady, he -hesitated for a second, flushed, faltered, hesitated again, for he had -not known they were present. As Mr. Jarney turned to Star to greet her, -Miss Edith turned to John. Her face flushed also. She stood a moment, -with that light of recognition in her eyes, that gives a peculiarly -sensational effect upon the beholder, sometimes. He was uncertain. She -was uncertain. He made a step forward to continue toward his office, -when Edith smiled, came up to him, and extended her hand. - -"Mr. Winthrope, I believe?" she said. - -John was in the act of bowing when he saw her extended hand, and -foregoing a completion of that act of politeness, he extended his hand -to meet Edith's. John looked very grave. He had needs to look grave, if -the beating of his heart indicated a particle of his feelings at that -moment. Edith continued smiling as only she could smile. Then John -pulled himself together sufficiently in his embarrassment and said: - -"Miss Jarney, if I am not mistaken?" - -"You are not mistaken, Mr. Winthrope," she said. "I am very glad to meet -you again; but under more pleasant circumstances than when we last met." - -"The pleasure is not all yours, Miss Jarney," he replied, releasing her -hand. - -"How are you?" she asked, still smiling. - -"Fine, thank you," he answered. - -"I want you to meet my dear friend, Miss Barton," she said to him, and -then turning to Star: "Miss Barton, my friend, Mr. Winthrope." - -Star advanced, and made a low bow in return to that of John's. Mr. -Jarney stood off a few steps taking in the formal introductions and -salaams of his daughter and her friend with his new secretary, at the -same time looking as unbending in his demeanor as a cast iron pillar, -from all outward appearances; but really relishing, with a glad heart, -the simplicity of his beautiful daughter in her cordiality toward Mr. -Winthrope. - -"Star--Miss Barton, this is the young man of whom I was speaking." Then, -looking at him, with a quizzical air, as if she wanted to be -patronizingly humble, said, directing her words at Star: "He is the -young man, Star, who rescued my hat and gave me his own umbrella." - -"That was a gallant act," said Star, smiling genially upon him. "I have -heard nothing but praise of you for the past two weeks." - -Edith thereat blushed more crimson than ever before in all her innocent -career; and sought to turn the subject by saying: "Oh, Star--it is -spitting snow," looking out the window as she said it. - -John's face turned a pinky color also, and he began to have qualms of -consternation in being detained from a prompt execution of his work at -hand. - -Star immediately saw she had made a blunder, and tried to make amends by -continuing: "I told Miss Edith that I should be happy to meet such a -gallant young man, as she says you are." - -Edith was now more flushed. She burned with confusion and despair over -Star's untimely statement of facts. - -"If you ladies will excuse me, I will resume my work," said John, to -avoid further complications between Edith's expressive face and Star's -expressive words. - -"We will excuse you, Mr. Winthrope--business before pleasure, always," -said Edith. - -"I am glad to meet you--to have met you--and hope to see you again, Miss -Barton," said John, bowing to Star; and then, bowing to Edith, he -departed. - -In the meantime, Mr. Jarney had taken his seat at his desk in a highly -flustered state of mind by reason of his daughter's sudden change of -countenance over the unintentional reflect assertion of Star's. When -John had closed the door of his office behind him, and the two ladies -were alone with Mr. Jarney, the latter turned about in his chair, as if -in a passion of rage, and said: - -"My dear Edith, what is the meaning of your actions?" - -"Why, papa, dear," she answered, "it is only my way of showing my -appreciation of his former kindness." - -"My little chit," he returned, as she put one arm around his neck, "you -exhibited more than simple appreciation in your looks, when you greeted -Mr. Winthrope." - -"Now, do not scold me, dear papa; if you do, I will cry," said Edith, -fumbling for a handkerchief somewhere about her garments, with which to -stay the flow of tears already glistening in her eyes. - -"Ha, ha, Edith," replied her father; "I am not chiding you; I know my -little girl would do nothing unbecoming." - -"Papa, is it unbecoming to be civil to a young man like him?" she asked. - -"Not in the least, my child; he is a fine young man--" and Edith hugged -her father more closely--"and--ah, Edith, you make me wonder, -sometimes, at your way of looking at other young men of our class." - -"None of them is as good as he, I know," she said, with such sincerity, -and so pensively, that her father was really disturbed. - -"I know he is a good young man; but, Edith, it would be very naughty for -you to encourage him," he said advisedly. - -"Then, you do not like him, papa? I know you do not. Wish I had never -requested you to advance him to this place, then--then--I would not have -seen him again." - -"Why, Edith, my child! what are you saying? If you persist in your -talking that way, it will be necessary for me to dismiss him at once, -and have no more of this benefactor business on my hands," replied her -father, sternly; at the same time winking at Star, belying the asperity -of his voice. - -"Now, papa, you do not mean that," she responded, patting him on the -head. "I know you too well, you bad dear papa. If I thought you did, it -would make me feel very cross toward you. There--now--papa--do -not--say--any more." She concluded the last phrase with kisses between -the words. - -"My dear, we will drop the matter," he said. "I mean to keep him, Edith; -for I like him; really I do. Miss Barton what is your opinion?" - -"The same as Edith's," she answered. - -Edith turned quickly and looked at Star, a mobile stiffness clouding her -face, not knowing how to take Star's words. - -"Ha, ha, ha," laughed her father; "you are an extraordinary girl, Miss -Barton--as extraordinary as Edith." - -"Thank you," returned Star, bowing to him. "I have reasons to feel -extraordinary since two weeks ago." - -Father, daughter and ward whiled away the time for an hour in such kind -of interchange of colloquy. Then John returned, with his tray full of -letters, and set it down on Mr. Jarney's desk. - -"Mr. Winthrope," said Mr. Jarney, looking up, with a deceiving frown, -which caused John to have queer sensations go through him at first; "Mr. -Winthrope, I am going to--I am tired of signing letters, and shall -delegate that power to you. So sit down here at my desk, and put your -'John Hancock' on these, using my name, of course, instead of your own. -You may do this while Miss Barton and I take a little turn down the -street. Edith, I will leave you here to see that Mr. Winthrope does not -shirk his work." - -John was amazed; Edith was astounded; Star was astonished. Mr. Jarney -repaired to the cloak room, from whence he returned in a few minutes -wearing a high silk hat and heavy overcoat, and carrying a gold-headed -cane. - -"Miss Barton, will you accompany me?" he said to Star, after his -preparation, taking it for granted that she would not refuse. - -When they went out, Edith seated herself in the chair where John sat -when he took down her father's dictations. John sat in her father's -chair at the desk, looking so near overwhelmed at the turn of things, -since morning, that he felt like sinking through the floor, or going -straight up to the ceiling and out through the roof to some other -country. As Mr. Jarney and Miss Barton went out the door, John turned -and looked at Edith. He blushed; she blushed. - -"This is certainly an unusual situation," said John. - -"It more equals our encounter that night," she replied. - -"But under pleasanter circumstances," he returned. - -"If we had that old umbrella of mine, how realistic we might make it," -she said, giving a little laugh, and sinking back into the depths of the -cushioned chair, folding her gloved hands as though perfectly at ease, -although showing some timidity of expression in her conversation. - -"I have it yet," he said, as he took up a pen loaded with ink, as if it -were his intention to commence signing the letters but looking at Edith -shyly. - -"Yet?" she raised her eyebrows. - -"I put it away among my other keepsakes," he answered, turning now as if -he really did intend to execute his "John Hancock" on the letters. - -"What for?" asked Edith, tapping a finger on the arm of her chair. - -"Oh, as a hobby; I always try to keep something to remember any unusual -happening in my life," said he, forgetting to sign the name of "Hiram -Jarney." - -"Do you know what I did with yours?" she asked, folding her arms. - -"Consigned it to the garbage heap, I suppose," he replied, letting the -ink fall off his pen to the spoilment of a letter. - -"You are not a good guesser," she replied, her blue eyes sparkling. "It -came near going there--but I have 'J. W.' as an ornament in my boudoir." - -"I imagine it would be out of harmony with the rest of the decorations," -he said, dropping more ink, and still neglecting to sign the name. - -"It harmonizes with my sentiments on certain matters," she said. - -"For instance?" He looked at her. - -"Class distinction." - -"What does mine signify?" attempting to sign, but only getting down the -capital H. - -"You," she looked to the floor. - -"And yours?" Now interested. - -"Me." Still looking down. - -"Then, we should exchange them," he said wonderingly. - -"That would not be to my liking," as she looked up. - -"Not?" he asked, turning from his paper and pen. - -"No," she said, demurly. - -"Ah, Miss Jarney," he said, with despair indicated in his voice, "I have -presumed, at times, to wish to be better acquainted with you, since that -night; but I have thought it useless." - -"Mr. Winthrope, nothing would give me more happiness than to be on good -terms with you." - -"But I see no possibility of that, except--I believe we ought to be on -good terms--that is, friends." - -"So do I." - -"May I hope--no, I must not--may I hope to see you here again, -sometime?" he asked seriously. - -"I used to come here often." - -"I never saw you here before." - -"No--I did not like the last secretary." - -"Then you will come again?" - -"I anticipate that I shall." - -"Then we may become better acquainted?" dropping his pen. - -"If you wish it, Mr. Winthrope," she answered, looking at her hands -lying on the arms of the chair, then up to John, who was taking up his -pen again to reach for a new dip of ink. - -At that moment the door opened and Mr. Jarney and Miss Barton entered. -He carried his hat and cane in one hand, and arrived at his desk in time -to see John completing the signing of his name to the first letter of -the pile before him. - -"Mr. Winthrope," he said, "you have been remiss in your duties. Edith, I -am afraid you would make a poor overseer in this office." - -John, thereupon, fell to work with a will to expedite the signing of the -letters that had been so woefully neglected during his entertaining -tete-a-tete with Edith. - -Edith and Miss Barton prepared to take their departure. Both were -standing before Mr. Jarney in low conversation, when John turned around, -as a new thought came to him, and said, to Miss Barton: - -"Miss Barton, do you have a brother?" - -"I have several brothers, Mr. Winthrope," she replied; "but one of them -disappeared months ago." - -"What was his given name?" - -"Michael." - -"Meeting you today. Miss Barton, reminds me that I met a young man about -two weeks ago who gave the name of Mike Barton." - -Then John related to her the incident of meeting her brother, and of the -words that had passed between them, without making it clear to the young -ladies, however, that the nature of the business that he followed was of -the most questionable. - -"Poor brother! that must be Michael," said Star, when John had concluded -his story. "Wish I could see him; I know I could prevail on him going -home." - -"Would you help us find him?" asked Edith, directing her question to -John. - -"It would give me pleasure to aid you," replied John. - -"How interesting a company we three can make in this undertaking," cried -Edith, with enthusiasm. "Papa, will you permit me to join them?" - -"If Mr. Winthrope is your guide, you may," he answered, now interested -himself. - -"When shall we begin our search?" asked Edith, eagerly looking at John, -and beaming one of her sweetest smiles on him. - -"Whenever Mr. Jarney gives me leave of absence--or, better, I can do it -before or after hours. How will that do?" - -"Capital!" cried Edith. "Papa, that will be fine. You can trust me with -Mr. Winthrope?" - -"Oh, of course," he answered. - -"Good, papa, dear!" she exclaimed. "Now, Star--Miss Barton, we will go -home. When shall we begin?" - -"When I notify you," replied John, rising to bid the ladies good day. - -The two young ladies departed. To John, it was like the going of two -sunbeams that had crossed his lonely pathway, to shine for a moment, -then disappear, with the promise of returning on a fairer day to come. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -THE AUTOMOBILE ACCIDENT. - - -Mike Barton, the rounder, knocked off from his lecherous avocation the -afternoon referred to in the previous chapter, as was his custom every -day at that time, and wandered aimlessly through the throngs of -pedestrians in the main thoroughfares of the city. He was submerged in -an elegant overcoat of black that shut him up from head to foot, so that -only his feet stuck out below, and his head half protruded above; for -the day was in its nastiest mood. A new derby hat sat cocked to one side -of his head, and his hair was in imitation of the devotees of the game -of football. - -With his hands poked deeply into his side coat pockets, he shambled -along, smoking a cigarette, that, at times, sent up a cloud, like a halo -of fog, around his head. He was careless, unconcerned, and impudently -independent in his gait. He pushed his way through the crowds with such -an abandon of gentility that the curious stared at him, and gave a shrug -of their shoulders, as much as to say, "There goes a bad one." He would -stop at times, when a crowd had formed to gaze at some new attraction in -a window; then, with a toss of his head, would push on, maybe -shouldering a meek little woman out of the way; or sidling up to an -unsophisticated girl with a licentious stare, or a suggestive smile; or -he would drop into a saloon, or billiard hall, or tobacco stand to see -his fellow touts; and then go on, ever aimless in his peregrinations. - -After lighting a fresh cigarette, he took up a position on the steps at -the main entrance to the Park building; looking into the faces of the -passers-by, or doing nothing but kill time; when his attention was -arrested by a tall, sleek gentleman in a plug hat and heavy overcoat, -and who was slinging a gold-headed cane, crossing Smithfleld street, -with a lady on his arm. - -"By the Gods!" he exclaimed, so loudly that those standing by gazed at -him in wonderment. The cause of his exclamation was the lady and -gentleman in question, crossing the street. - -The tall gentleman was talking animatedly, and the lady was smiling and -laughing in return, as if what he said gave her great merriment. As they -passed the corner, going down Fifth, Mike stepped to the pavement, and -followed. He kept a few paces in the rear, but always in sight of the -swiftly moving pair. - -The plug hat loomed above the heads of other people, and the lady was -conspicuous by her elegant costume. As they walked on, he followed, ever -in view of the high hat. They turned up Wood, he followed. They crossed -Wood and went down Sixth street, he followed. They came to Liberty and -went down Sixth avenue, he followed. They went out on the Federal street -bridge, he followed. They stopped at the center span, he stopped. They -looked down the river, he took up a position behind an iron girder of -the bridge, and peeped around at them. - -The wind was blowing briskly, skudding snow-like clouds across the sky, -and white caps danced upon the river. Smoke from factory chimney, or -train, or boat, lay in horizontal rolls of grayish blackness, like -tubular pillars floating in the air on the breast of the wind. They -looked down the Alleghany, facing the pelting breezes--through the maze -of craft; through the uplifted arms of many bridges, rearing themselves -like spider-lines criss-crossing the vista of the river; through the -distance over black buildings, sheds and shanties, and everything, they -looked, over and above to the bald bluffs of Washington Heights, where -clung the homes of the middle class, like crows' nests in aerie oaks. -Then down beneath that hill of rock, staggering under its weight of -poverty, they looked--she seeing, as if in a vision, the depressing -hovels of the very poor; and a tear came to her eyes. But Mr. Jarney did -not see those tears. He was intent only in passing away a short space of -time with Star, as a gratifying diversion in his daily course of life. - -The wind brushed by her skirts with great vehemence, and blew her hair -about her face in straggling strands of plaits. She placed one elbow -upon the iron railing, and rested her chin in her hand, and looked down -at the dancing water. Her mild blue eyes were still moistened, and she -wondered how deep and cold the water below her was, and what there was -beneath its surface. Her lips were blue from the chaffing wind, her -teeth chattered from the chill, and her cheeks paled before the -scurrying blasts. - -"I wonder if there is life down there in that dirty yellow water," she -said, meditatively. - -"There used to be many fish in there, at least there was when I was a -boy," he answered, leaning over the railing and looking downward; "but -the defilement of the water by the mills and mines has killed every bit -of life, almost." - -"Nothing escapes the hand of men, it seems, in their search for wealth," -she mused. - -"Nothing--you have been crying," he said, turning his eyes upon her. - -"No; it is the wind," she answered. - -"Ah, the wind; it is raw today," he returned. "Let us turn our backs and -go to the other side of the bridge." - -They crossed the bridge; and looked northward--through the interminable -spans of other bridges; through the blue fog and smoke that rose in the -distance like vapor from smouldering pits of peat, suffering their eyes -to wander over the serrated house-tops that filled Alleghany City as a -checker-board filled with "men." He directed her attention, by his -raised and extended cane, to some prominent objects that stood out -bolder in the landscape than any of the rest. - -And of all their movements, Mike Barton was a stealthy observer from his -place of espionage. He recognized his sister when first he set eyes on -her. He was inclined to approach her as she stood with Mr. Jarney on the -bridge, and make himself known, and take the consequences of the -possible result of meeting such a gentleman under such dubious -circumstances. But the longer he stood observing them in their quiet -contemplation of the scene, the more disinclined he was in attempting to -carry out his scheme. - -Mike Barton knew very well where his sister had gone when she left home. -He knew the home that she lived in; but in his vaccillation he could not -formulate a plan that he could operate tending to its fulfillment, in -reaching her. Therefore, he concluded to wait his time to meet her -alone. This was the first time that he had seen her since she had -entered upon her new life, or in months for that matter. Ah, my -dastardly brother, with all your vile thoughts and debased notions, thy -chaste sister is beyond your unholy machinations! He was not deterred, -however, by pity, or brotherly love, or homely feelings from pursuing -his purpose. - -After the panorama had been viewed from the bridge to Star's complete -satisfaction and joy, Mr. Jarney, after taking out his watch to note the -time of day, turned, with Star on his arm, and began retracing his -steps. Mike followed doggedly, surreptitiously, going into stores, into -hotel lobbies--out again into the streets, always at a safe distance, -that his actions would not be noticed by those being followed. - -Finally, the trail and the quarry ended at the entrance of the Frick -building. Here Mike took up his post, after Mr. Jarney and Miss Barton -had gone within. There he stood buried deeply in his collar, still -smoking the delectable cigarette (to him), with as much energy and -enjoyment as when he started out on his perambulatory quest for fresh -air. The air being chilly, Mike crouched in a corner beneath the big -arch of the doors to keep the chills from going up and down and through -and through his snakish frame. - -An enclosed auto, complete in all its appointments, stood closely -hugging the curbstone, the chauffeur having taken refuge from the -rawness in a nearby lounging place, where a little warmth was obtainable -while he waited for his charges to be taken homeward. - -Shortly, after Mike had taken up his position as a sentry might on more -important and graver business, the great doors by him suddenly bursted -open, and the two young ladies hurried out. They approached the auto -together. Edith opened the door of the cab, and let Star within, she -following. After being seated, they leaned back on the soft cushions of -the enclosed conveyance to wait the coming of the chauffeur to take them -at a giddy speed to the mansion on the hill. - -Mike, from his sentry corner, watched their every movement. Twice, or -thrice, he was tempted to approach them, and make himself known; but he -was restrained by an inward impulse that told him, even in his vapid -sense of reasoning, that he would be committing an egregious mistake, -should he do so at that time and place. - -The chauffeur did not come. The ladies sat quietly, happy, oblivious of -their surroundings, quietly talking; with now and then a little laugh -from each other as a climax to their joyous spirits. Still the chauffeur -did not return; and still the ladies sat on, paying no heed as to -whether the chauffeur was at his post, or off somewhere in China. - -Suddenly the machine puffed, snorted, and sent up a fog of acrid fumes. -Then a lever clicked over a rachet, then another; and the auto began -puffing regularly, and moved slowly out into the street. It creeped and -crawled among the wagons and carts and horses to Smithfield street. Up -that crowded thoroughfare it went, weaving its way certainly, -cautiously, deliberately, determinedly, till it was out of the congested -district; and out where the streets were freer from the impedimenta of -human contrivances. As the distance increased, the speed of the machine -increased, accordingly; and they were directly whizzing onward at a -lively whirring, gathering speed continually as the course lengthened -into the thinly traversed streets. - -Onward they flew--over crossings, past wagons in a flash; past street -cars, autos, vehicles of all kinds and without number; past block after -block, dingy and austre, shooting by like moving picture scenes; up hill -and down, over smooth asphaltum, jolting over cobbles, over rubbish, -over everything imaginable; fleeing, fleeing, with policemen shouting at -the driver to cease his mad race, and noting down the number for haling -him into court. - -But on, ever on, they went, with silent tread, but wild whirring of the -thing that gave it life; and still on, with a swerve and a turn, and a -humming; past naked trees, tall gangling poles, beautiful residences, -sere lawns, barns, stables, fences, open fields and now wooded places, -they traveled, with meteoric speed; up steep hills, down; up, across, -over--ever on, at the same hair-raising flight, throwing mud and water -and gravel with a furious splashing. - -At first, Edith and her companion supposed they were bounding homeward -at the usual rate of progress in that direction when riding in the -Jarney auto. But when Edith beheld new scenes--new objects, new places -on the way, and finally a countryside in its wintery dress, she became -necessarily alarmed; and she was still more alarmed when she saw that -darkness was hovering over the land, and they not yet home. Star, being -composed and guided mostly by Edith's actions, was not bothering -herself, but when she saw Edith exhibiting intense anxiety, she, too, -became alarmed. - -Whereupon, Edith attempted to attract the attention of the chauffeur to -the strangeness of the places they were passing; but he paid no more -heed to her calling than if she were not inside; and he went on, ever -faster, if possible. Edith opened the side door of the auto once, and -put her head without, but owing to the swaying of the machine under the -prodigiousness of its hurrying, she momentarily closed it again, fearing -an accident. - -In the flight, Edith and Star paid no attention to the identity of the -man at the steering wheel, believing that he was their old faithful one, -who had gone quite crazy, or had met with hail companions, and had -imbibed too freely. - -"Oh, oh, Star!" cried Edith; "if we do not stop that man there will be a -terrible accident soon," and she tapped on the plate glass window in -front of her. - -"He must be crazy," suggested Star. - -"Poor man, if I could only get at him, I would soon check the machine," -said Edith as the car turned a corner, throwing her into the arms of -Star, who caught her, in her fright, and pressed her to her breast. -Edith was in a very agitated state of mind, for their situation, seemed -to her, to be of the most precarious kind. - -Star had already clasped Edith in her arms, but she wanted to hold her -closer, if possible, to whisper consoling words. And as she was about to -say a word of comfort, there was a sudden stoppage of the machine. They -were thrown forward, and it turned on its side, buckling up like a -crushed egg shell. All that Star remembered was a terrific crash, a -grinding noise, and the breaking of glass--then darkness. - -Edith rose up from the middle of the road, stunned, dazed, bewildered. -She stood a moment beholding the wreckage; then, quickly surveying the -scene, rushed to the ruined cab, from which she had been flung, and -seized Star by the arm, and lifted her up and dragged her out. Star was -unconscious. Edith administered a little dirty water, taken from a -puddle in the road, to her face; and she soon recovered. - -"Are you hurt?" asked Edith, kneeling by her side, as she lay by the -roadside. - -"Not much," she replied. "Only had my wits knocked out a little; I am -all right now. Are you hurt?" - -"Not much," answered Edith, as she brushed back the hair that had fallen -over Star's face. Then Star arose. - -"Where are we?" she asked. - -"We seem to be in the country," replied Edith. "I see a house across the -field aways. We must have help, Star, at once. I do not see the -chauffeur; he must have disappeared." - -Edith now released Star, seeing that she was not hurt, and began to -brush her clothing to remove some of the be-spatterment that came as a -result of her dropping so miraculously in the mire of the highway. - -"The chauffeur may be under the car," said Star. - -"Why, I do not see him; it is strange," said Edith, as she walked about -the car, and looked beneath it. "Let us search the weeds by the fence." - -Carrying out the suggestion, the two young ladies, now fully recovered, -but much excited still, began to tramp among the dead herbage by the -fence. Edith plunged in among the weeds and thistles and briars, with as -much courage as she would have shown in hunting for some piece of finery -in her boudoir, having no regard for the dispoilment of her fine clothes -any more than if they were of linsey-woolsey. Star climbed the fence and -was treading down the reedage of the field with an earnestness of -purpose that became her character to act her part well in any -employment. - -"Here he is!" shouted Star, after trampling down a few square feet of -bramble to get to a spot, where she thought she saw, while mounting the -fence, a man's coat. "He is dead!" The man was lying on his face, and -Star stood over him. - -"Dead!" cried Edith, climbing the fence, and running toward Star, -tearing her dress on the briars in her haste to join her friend. - -"Dead!" she repeated, as she took Star by the arm. "Dead! Poor man!" - -Both stood looking down upon him, wondering what next to do. Edith -stooped down and turned him on his back. - -"Oh, Edith! He is my poor brother!" wildly cried Star. - -Edith arose, shocked by Star's sudden outburst, wondering what it all -meant. Star knelt down by his side, and tenderly took up one of the dead -man's hands in hers. - -"He is dead! dead! dead! Poor brother!" she said sadly, with her tears -falling over him. "We have found him alone, dear Edith, ourselves. God -must have sent him on this wild ride to reach the pearly gates before -his time. Poor brother! We did not know it was him. It is better that we -did not know. Poor brother, he is dead!" - -Edith bowed her head and wept in sympathy with the grief-stricken Star. - -The hollow face of Michael Barton turned up to them, like a Death's -Head, in the twilight. He was dead! And this loving sister never knew of -the depravity of her fallen brother. It is probably well. For he must -have his reckoning with his God. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -JOHN IS CALLED UPON AN EXTRAORDINARY MISSION. - - -John Winthrope was sitting by his inelegant little table, and was -reading, by the dim gas light, a new text book on modern business -methods, and feeling perfectly contented and extremely happy over his -prospects for the future, when there came three distinct and quickly -repeated knocks at his door. The knocks were made apparently by a person -impatient to gain admission. John dropped his book; ran to the door to -ascertain the cause of the alarm, so significantly given, and threw it -wide open. A messenger of the telephone company, standing in the -hallway, handed him a message, and with it the additional information -that he (the messenger) was to await an answer. Nervously John tore open -the envelope, took out the contents, and read, with considerable -trepidation, the following, dated eight p. m.: - -"Come at once to my Highland avenue residence. Hiram Jarney." - -Without taking time to think or meditate for a fractional part of a -second over the call, John hastily wrote out the following: "Will be on -hand as soon as possible," and gave it to the messenger, with the -instruction to dispatch it immediately upon arrival at the office. - -He then began grooming himself for the journey, so suddenly called upon -to undertake. He could not conceive the urgent necessity of the summons, -except in the light of his position as a servitor of Hiram Jarney, who, -he thought, might have very important matters to look after that night. -He pondered confusedly, while dressing, over what the business might be -that required attention so promptly, and at that late hour of the day. -He had never been called on such a mission before; nor had he been -instructed that he would, at any time, be requested to go to Mr. -Jarney's home on business. - -As he always dressed neatly and looked very tidy while on duty in the -office, he deemed it advisable, on such an occasion, to don his best -Sunday suit; for he did not know but that some fortuitous event might -occur to take him into the presence of the young ladies, who had that -day made such an impression on him. So in less than a half hour he was -prepared to start, and in fifteen minutes more, so speedily did the -taxicab travel with him inside, he was pulling at the ring in the bull's -nose at the Jarney front door. He had noticed, on ascending the high -front steps leading to the great piazza of the mansion, that people were -moving about in the interior as if everybody and everything was in -commotion; and this puzzled him. No sooner had he given the alarm, -however, than the door flew open, and he saw a brazen man standing like -a statue before him. It was evident that he was expected, for the -flunkey, after receiving his card, passed him in without ceremony, and -without relieving him of his coat or hat. - -He now saw, at a glance, that something out of the common had happened. -The maids and waiters were rushing about excitedly, and Mr. Jarney was -pacing the floor with nervous movements; and the little bouncing lady, -all in pink, was ringing her hands and crying. On seeing John, Mr. -Jarney rushed up to him, with the tension gone from his nerves, and -grasped him by the hand, saying: - -"Mr. Winthrope, I am glad you have come--something has happened my -daughter and Miss Barton. They have not been seen since leaving the -office this afternoon." - -John gasped. - -"What can I do to aid you, Mr. Jarney?" he asked. "I am glad to be of -any service my help will avail." - -"I do not know what has occurred to cause them to disappear so -mysteriously," answered Mr. Jarney. "We must find them, if possible, -this night." - -"Have you notified the police?" asked John, believing, like many people, -that these hawkashaws of the law readily knew how to solve any kind of a -mystery. - -"I have already informed the police--miserable service we have--some two -hours ago, and no tidings have they found," he replied, as he again took -up his nervous walk, leaving Mrs. Jarney to talk with John. - -"No clue?" asked John. - -"None whatever," said Mr. Jarney, turning again to him. - -"It is strange," said John. "Where is the chauffeur?" - -"Why, that rascal was off his seat, and a stranger is supposed to have -driven the car away," replied Mr. Jarney. "Beg your pardon, Mr. -Winthrope, in my distraction I have so far forgotten myself to fail to -introduce you to Mrs. Jarney." This formality being then dispensed with, -although John had already struck up a conversation with that lady, Mr. -Jarney said. "Mr. Winthrope, I have called you here to lead a searching -party for their recovery." - -"Oh, Mr. Winthrope," wailed the little lady; "I hope you can find them -this night." - -Just then a maid came rushing in with the information that Mr. Jarney -was expressly wanted at the telephone. - -"It has been ringing all evening, and to no purpose," said Mr. Jarney, -impatiently; "answer it." - -The maid retreated; but in a moment she returned again with the further -information that a lady was at the other end of the line, and wanted -especially to see Mr. Jarney, as the maid put it. - -Mr. Jarney begged John to accompany him to the phone room of his -residence, and, when the former took down the receiver, he made the -following replies to the voice at the other end: - -"Hello! This is Mr. Jarney!" - -"Yes; this is he." - -"Talk louder?" - -"Talk louder?" - -"I can't hear yet!" - -"Who is this?" - -"Ed-d-Edith?" - -"God bless us!" - -"Where are you?" - -"At Millvale? Good gracious!" - -"What the deuce are you doing there?" - -"You were!" - -"You did?" - -"Ah, she is safe?" - -"He is dead! Who is dead?" - -"Mike Barton?" - -"Killed! Accident!" - -"Farmer brought you to Millvale, eh?" - -"Coming in on the street cars, did you say?" - -"I'll send Mr. Winthrope in a taxicab for you." - -"Yes, he is here." - -"Yes; he came out to direct a search for you." - -"Wouldn't know where to look for you?" - -"Never could have found you?" - -"You wait there till he arrives." - -"Well; I thought you would be glad." - -"Do with the body?" - -"Leave it there, of course." - -"Yes; he will come at once." - -"Good bye!" - -Putting up the receiver to disconnect the phone, Mr. Jarney called up -the main office of the taxicab company, and ordered a cab post haste to -his residence. Then turning to John, he said: - -"It is very strange; very strange! Miss Barton's brother was killed in -an accident with my machine! Very strange, indeed." - -John took the answer to the voice at the other end of the phone to mean -a peremptory command for him to go; still he thought his services were -not now particularly needed to conduct the lost ones home. Mr. Jarney -simply wanted him to go and act as their body guard on this momentous -night. John would have been glad of the opportunity to thank him for the -new trust imposed in him had Mr. Jarney asked him to go; but as he did -not make a request for his services, but a command instead, he took it -to mean that he was to comply implicitly, as any faithful servant would -have complied. - -When the taxicab arrived, and after John had been admonished repeatedly -as to how to proceed, and loaded down with wraps and robes and other -things, he made his exit and went upon his mission. - -Arriving at Millvale without incident, but feeling very much concerned -as to how he should conduct himself with his charges, he found Edith and -Star both laboring under great mental and physical strain, as a -consequence of their experiences, with Star at that moment the worse of -the two, by reason of the tragic ending of her brother. Both young -ladies were bedraggled. Their fine clothes were bespattered with mud and -their shoes soaked with water. They trembled from the strain, and shook -from the cold. But John could do nothing at that hour to give them -relief, except to wrap them up in blankets and bundle them into the cab; -which he did with much tenderness and courteous behavior toward each, -slighting neither in any little attention that would tend to their -immediate comfort. Then, after giving orders for the disposition of the -body of Mike Barton, he seated himself within the cab, and they were -directly speeding homeward. - -On the way, Edith related to John, with many a break in her story, of -all that had befallen them since leaving the office that afternoon. - -"A very sad ending, indeed, for you, Miss Barton," said John, after -Edith had concluded. - -Star was not of an emotional nature, consequently she bore up under the -ordeal with great fortitude. She felt very sad; naturally, very sad. - -"It is a miracle that we both were not killed," said Edith. "The car was -left a total wreck by the roadside. It struck a telegraph pole in making -a turn, and Star was struck unconscious, while I was thrown to the road. -Star's brother was thrown at least forty feet away, so terrific was his -driving." - -"What impelled him to such a trick, do you suppose?" asked John. - -"I cannot fathom his motive," answered Edith. "Nor I," said Star. "Poor -boy!" - -"Perhaps he was unawares of whom you were," suggested John; "and was out -for a lark to give some one a scare." - -"Poor boy!" said Star. "I will forgive him." - -"Oh--my--I am so dizzy!" suddenly exclaimed Edith. "I do not know -whether it is this car or my head that is whirling round so. Oh, o--o!" - -She was sliding forward on her seat, and her head was falling to one -side. She sighed. "Oh--o--o!" she uttered. Sighed; then was quiet. - -In the darkness of the cab John could not discern her movements plainly; -but he knew, by her heavy breathing, that something was wrong with her. -Star being in a very distressed condition herself, failed to understand -or comprehend the suffering signs of Edith; so John, noting all these -things, lent his personal attentions to Edith, who was just then in a -mortal state of suspended animation. - -John was very careful that he did not make himself promiscuous in either -one's behalf, except when the most imminent danger was confronting them. -By the reflected lights of the streets, as they were whirled along, John -caught a glimpse of Edith, and was not slow to see that she was in need -of care from some source. He therefore caught her by the arms, just as -she was senselessly keeling over, and raised her to a sitting posture. -As he lifted her up, her head fell to one side; but in a moment she -roused herself and attempted to sit up straight. In another moment she -lapsed unconscious, and limply declined into helplessness. - -At first, John placed her head on the cushion in the corner of the cab. -Seeing this position made her look uncomfortable, he then put an arm -around her, and laid her head upon his shoulder. Thus they rode for a -brief time. Then he lifted up one of her gloved hands. Finding it wet -and cold, with Star's assistance he removed the gloves. After having -chafed her hands, and rubbing them together to start up a circulation -brisker than appeared to be natural, he drew his own heavy gloves over -her quivering fingers. After which Star removed Edith's shoes and -stockings, and rubbed her cold damp feet, and wrapped a blanket around -them. Shortly her blood resumed a freer circulation, and she roused -herself, faintly asking where she was. - -"We are on our way to your home," answered John, removing his arm from -around her. - -He acted voluntarily in this matter, always having the fear upon him -that what he might be then doing for her would appear to be impertinent. -But she was growing more serious, and in spite of his desire to withdraw -his arm from her support, he was compelled to hold her more firmly than -before. She was now breathing heavily and her hot breath he could feel -in his face as her head lay on his shoulder. She was like a child, and -was beginning to mumble, and mutter inarticulate words, disconnected in -their sequence, none of which could he form into intelligible -sentences--except the two words, "Papa and mamma." Once he thought she -was trying to say "Mr. Winthrope"; but he could not exactly tell. This -troubled him some now, for his only thoughts toward her were of dutiful -respect in this her hour of great trouble. - -They arrived home at last, with Edith still in a comatose state, and -breathing like one entering into the dreadful sickness of pneumonia. She -was hot and feverish. Her hands twitched nervously. She was muttering -incoherently, but not ravingly. - -When the cab rolled up the driveway to the side entrance of the mansion, -John lifted Edith up in his arms, and, bidding Miss Barton to collect -their effects together and follow, went into the brilliantly lighted -hall. He was about to hand her over to her parents, but, by their -direction, he continued, silently, with the father and mother, maids and -physician coming after him, to her own room, and there he laid her down -upon her bed. - -As he released her, he gave one longing look at her pretty white face; -and trusted, in his heart of hearts, that her parents would tenderly -care for her, and fetch her back to life and health. Then, bidding them -a whispered adieu, he departed for his own simple abode, with some -lingering regrets that he could not have stayed by her bedside and -nursed her through her illness. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -SECRET WORKINGS OF THE SYSTEM. - - -Peter Dieman was happier than usual one morning, if he could ever be -called happy by any possibility of reading such a state of feeling in -his otherwise perverse and irascible countenance. - -Happy! Well, Peter was never more happy in all his born days; but what -the extent of that emotion might become in his after life was hard to -predict at that time. Whenever he was in good humor, it was his never -failing custom to puff at his pipe like a locomotive getting off a -dead-center, and to rub his hands with less expenditure of energy, and -to squint his eyes with less vigor, and to shut his mouth with less -desire to keep it closed. In fact, on such rare occasions, it might be -said of him that he was in his subconscious region of retroflection, one -peculiarly of his own conception. - -The cause of all his good humor was nothing more nor less than the -refreshing information, imparted to him the day before by Jim Dalls, i. -e., that Jim Dalls had decided to go to Europe. Ever since this -enlightening piece of intelligence broke in upon the deepness of Peter's -outward density of intellect, that gentleman was in a high fever of -unemotional genuflexion. Why, mortal man! Peter sat in his chair all -that night offering up his devotion to the Gods that They might be -propitiated for Their timely intervention. And betimes eating cheese and -crackers, and drinking beer, and surfeiting the air with the delicious -fumes of his strong pipe. He was, as it were, riding on the back of -Alborak into the Seventh Heaven of satisfaction. - -Not only did he offer up devotion to his Deity, but to other people's -Deity as well. Oh, ah, he would think often, but never utter; it being -merely his manner of getting rid of superfluous enthusiasm. And his oh, -ah's extended on through the night, mixed with cheese, crackers, beer -and smoke, to the hour of nine o'clock in the forenoon, at which time he -suddenly aroused himself to the position of the hands on the dial of the -dollar-clock that hung above his desk, where he could always keep his -eyes on its horological exactness. - -Having noted the time, Eli, after having opened the shop without the -least interference with his master's meditations, was summarily summoned -into the august presence of Peter through the tintinnabulating medium of -a large iron spike applied to a piece of sounding brass suspended by a -string from the ceiling on the right hand of his chair. Eli came to -attention, with the alertness of an orderly, before Peter, and waited to -be commanded. - -"Call up 206070-m and tell him to come to my office by 9:45 sharp," said -Peter in a less tragic tone than he had been used to in hurling his -commands at Eli. - -"Yes, sir," said Eli, departing. Directly he returned, stood attention, -and said: "He will be here." - -"Ha! Good!" cried Peter. "Go to work, you lazy scamp." The last to Eli. - -Peter sat still and mused on in the same barbarous manner, with only one -change in the program of his devotions, and that was, that since 7:30 -o'clock he had kept his face close to the peephole that gave him a view -into his store, and upon Eli's performances. - -With his sharp little eyes he saw the store, with all its junk and -jumble; he saw poor imbecilic Eli skipping about with undying devotion -in his heart; but his devotion was to serve his master, and serve him -well he did. Verily, he saw everything within the store, almost; at -least what he did not see, he knew of, as if his eyes were optical -divining rods. And he saw also beyond the confines of the four walls -that bound him about during his personifying period of the devil:--He -saw his henchmen going here and there, like earth-worms, through the -devious passages of the dark and dangerous undermining of the civic -welfare; he saw the policemen on their beats, wielding their maces, as -if he had as many hands as there were officers, and doing the execution -thereof himself; he saw the aldermanic bodies sitting in grave -deliberation on important or unimportant questions, knowing well himself -what their action might be on anything out of the purely routine order; -he saw the fawning sycophants, with their justifiable tale of complaint, -being brushed aside by the higher hands; he saw the givers of tribute -paying into the coffers of the system the doubloons of unwholesome -preferment; he saw special privilege unsatisfied, always; he saw the -needy come up with their last dollar out of the depths of their -nefarious haunts and lay it at the feet of the King of Graft; he saw the -glow-worms of society in a trail of phosphorescent splendor making the -welkin ring with the hallelujahs of their perfections; he saw the -merchant, the lawyer, the doctor, the craftsman, the civic officer, the -banker, the broker, the justice, the bailiff, the warden--all he saw -bending to the power of the system in all its ramifying debasement. - -Aye, aye, he saw, too, the danger of it all to that system; to himself, -to his friends, and to those who sat above him on the high throne -erected to the debauchment of popular government, should Jim Dalls not -be removed to some other ruler's domains. And Jim must go; and he must -remain away; and all those of his present tendencies must go, and they, -too, must remain away, if money was all that were needed to that end. - -While Peter was reflecting on all these things, there came into view in -the store, the short stalky form of a man past middle life. He walked -with a business air in his every movement directly into the presence of -Eli, to whom he gave the pass, which was 206070-m, and then continued -through the alleyways of junk to the black hole in the rear occupied by -Peter. Arriving at the door, he stepped inside, took off his hat, and -sat down, sniffing with some annoyance at the foul atmosphere. - -"Now, what is the game?" he asked Peter. - -"I want ten thousand by ten o'clock," replied Peter, without any -ceremonious introduction of the question. - -"That's mighty short notice, I must say, Peter," replied the man. - -"Fifteen minutes is time enough to rob any man or institution," answered -Peter. - -"The pull on our purse strings is very great at present," said the man. - -"Cut the strings," retorted Peter. - -"Cut them, you all say; but that won't preserve enough to pay the -fiddlers," responded the man. - -"Fiddlers be damned," roared Peter; "we must get Jim Dalls out of the -country." - -"Is he wanting to squeal?" asked the man, with upraised eyebrows. - -"He is ready," answered Peter. - -"Can't he be staved off by bluff?" asked the man. - -"He's best in Europe." - -"Is he going there?" - -"He's going." - -"When?" asked the man, bluntly. - -"Get the money, and buy a ticket also." - -"Why, Peter, it will take a little more time than you have given to -complete the transaction." - -"You may have till 10:30 to fix it up." - -"I will return at that time with the amount," said the man, -reflectively. - -The man was rising to pass out, when the tall figure of Jim Dalls -entered. The latter halted, and stood a moment gazing at Peter and the -man, with a contemptuous smile breaking up his smooth features. - -"Well, Jacob Cobb, you here?" he asked, with some asperity in his -voice. - -"Who else do you see, Jim Dalls, I would like to know, besides we -three?" asked Jacob, for that is whom the man proved to be, and who was -known to Peter only as 206070-m; and to his henchmen as the same. - -"You fellows are not turning a trick on me?" asked Jim Dalls, with -suspicion. - -"We will be only too glad to get rid of you," answered Peter. - -"And see you safely out of the country," joined Cobb. - -"I think I should have more money," remarked Jim; "ten thousand won't -last long in Europe, where you have to bribe every sonofagun who looks -at you; it's worse than Pittsburgh." - -"How much more?" asked Peter, in alarm. - -"Twenty thousand ought to be sufficient," answered Jim. - -"Bring three tickets, Cobb, reading from Pittsburgh to Paris, and twenty -thousand," said Peter. "And that's the last sou I'll give you, you cur." - -"Don't be too sure, Peter; I may ask for ten thousand more," said Jim, -independently. - -"You won't get it," barked Peter. "Get the tickets and the money, Cobb." - -Jacob Cobb forthwith departed, going direct to a vault in one of the big -banking institutions. Procuring the money, he purchased three tickets -for Jim Jones and wife and daughter. Returning with the tickets in his -pocket, and the money safely lodged in the depths of an immense sack, he -hiked it, with expeditious tread, to The Die; and thereat turned the -sack, with its valuable contents, over to the lamentable Eli for secret -delivery. - -In the office. Jacob Cobb confronted Jim Dalls with the three tickets, -which that gentleman refused, at first, to accept without the -accompanying "dough;" but being informed that that little feature of the -transaction would be consummated through the faithful Eli, Jim returned -to the store to be further set upon by more mysterious signs of secrecy -as to the source of the money. - -On entering the store, Jacob threw the sack, with all its preciousness, -under a bundle of other similar sacks, and told Eli to offer it for sale -to the man in the office, who would, in a moment, be along to make a -purchase in that article of usefulness. So when Eli saw Jim Dalls -approaching, not then being busy himself, he casually withdrew the sack, -and laid it upon a table, and asked him if he did not want to purchase -it. Only ten cents, he said, was asked for it. Didn't he want it in his -line of business, whatever that might be? Jim caught the cue, of course, -and paid the ten cents without protest. After obtaining it, he returned -to the office. - -"Good bye, Peter; good bye, Jacob," he said, extending his hand. "I'll -be off this very day; but, remember, if I should run short in touring -Europe, I expect more help from you two." - -"You dog!" howled Peter. - -"Ah! you may 'you dog' all you want to now; I have you where I want you. -I will see that as long as you fellows play the game, I am properly -cared for--so long, gentlemen." - -With these parting remarks, Jim Dalls took his leave; and in another -twenty-four hours had vanished from his beaten tracks in the city that -knew him so well. A newspaper announcement said that he had gone to -Europe for his health. - -Alter Jim Dalls left that day, the implacable Peter turned upon Jacob -Cobb and said: - -"We must raise the levy." - -"It's already reaching the high tide mark," said Jacob. - -"We will let her reach it; then we will let her ebb, after this sum is -raised," said Peter, rubbing his hands. - -"But we may be drowned in the flow before it turns," answered Jacob, -with emphasis on the may. - -"Let her drown," replied Peter, resolutely. - -"We'll go down in the wreck, if we get too reckless," said Jacob, -fearfully. - -"Who cares?" responded Peter, inexorably. - -"I care," said Jacob, with some humility. - -"I don't," said the dogmatic Peter. - -"But I have daughters and a son," protested Jacob. - -"No more than lots of other men," replied the angry Peter, rubbing -excitedly. - -"But look at the difference?" now pleaded Jacob. - -"There isn't any," snapped Peter. - -"Do you infer, Peter, that you will play false, too?" asked Jacob, -seized with the impression that his fellow grafters would desert him. - -"I infer nothing; I act," said Peter, turning to look out his place of -espial. - -"You think you are safe?" said Jacob. - -"I think nothing; I act. If I fail, I fail, and don't cry!" he shouted. - -"You are exasperating, Peter; come, now, let's get down to -business--what will we raise it on first?" asked Jacob. - -"On every resort in town; I'll send word tonight to my entire force to -press on the screws," answered Peter. - -"Good!" exclaimed Jacob, now in full accord with Peter's views. - -"Have you seen Monroe?" asked Peter, now turning to a new subject. - -"Had a talk with him yesterday." - -"What did he say?" - -"Said he was with us still." - -"Can he be trusted?" - -"Without a doubt." - -"Does Jarney know of his connection with us?" - -"No." - -"Jarney, the goody-goody, must be made to pay for big knocking." - -"Monroe has been detailed to work on him," said Jacob. - -"And you can trust to Monroe for that?" asked Peter. - -"I believe we can; but he is handicapped now by the firing of Jarney's -old reliable secretary." - -"He's been fired? Who has he now?" - -"A young country bumpkin." - -"Can't you get him in your ranks?" asked Peter. - -"I fear not," replied Jacob, with a shake of the head. "He's been -approached, and seems to be as susceptible as a cow." - -"Ah, we must get rid of him, some way--get him out of Monroe's way." - -"That's what Monroe will attempt to do," said Jacob. - -"Can he do it?" asked Peter, squinting. - -"If he's slick enough, he can; nobody else can get so near the scene of -operation like Monroe." - -"How's Jarney's adopted daughter coming on in society?" asked Peter, -with a faint attempt at smiling. - -"Fine, I hear," answered Jacob, rising in his chair, and turning around -with his back to Peter. - -"That's a funny piece of business on Jarney's part," said Peter, puffing -very hard at his pipe. - -"His daughter took a fancy to her, on seeing her one day while slumming -on the South Side, and she's trying to make a lady of her," said Jacob, -sitting down again, after throwing away the stump of a cigar. - -"Can she do it?" asked Peter, with considerable interest. - -"She's doing it," responded Jacob, who noticed the change of Peter's -interest, which was now of the kindly kind. - -"God bless her!" exclaimed Peter, as he turned again to his ever present -peephole expression. - -"Mike Barton's dead," said Jacob, slowly. - -"The devil!" shouted Peter, turning from his peephole. - -"Yes; didn't you hear of it?" - -"No. How?" - -"Automobile accident." - -"There are others to take his place," said Peter, grunting like a -satisfied pig after eating heartily. "How did it happen?" - -"Stole Jarney's auto, with the two young ladies in it; run it like h---- -to the country, to kidnap them, I suppose; ran into a telegraph -pole--busted the machine, and busted his head." - -"Poor wretch! I am glad he is gone, for his sister's sake," said Peter, -sighing, which he could do sometimes. - -"Ah, I see you are very compassionate for the girl all at once," said -Jacob, eyeing Peter. - -"I have reasons to be," replied Peter, spiritedly. "Were the girls -hurt?" - -"No; but Edith Jarney is very ill--." - -"Very ill! What?" interrupted Peter. - -"Brain fever, she's got." - -"Ah, she is too good to live," said Peter, looking out his peephole -again. Then turning quickly, with his peculiar little eyes turned up -sidewise at Jacob, he said: "Say, Jacob, we must put our sleuths on the -trail of that old drunkard, Billy Barton. He has been gone a long time, -and not a single word from him." - -"What do you want with the sot?" asked Jacob, mystified. "He's no good." - -"That's my business--poor Billy," and Peter lapsed into a moody spell, -for sometimes he seemed to have a little of the feelings of a natural -heart; but this quality in him was as rare as the air on Pike's Peak. -"His family must be cared for." - -"Jarney's doing that," answered Jacob. - -"Is he?" jerked out Peter, wrathfully. "I'll not allow it from him, the -interloper!" - -"You are getting generous all at once, Peter; I should not begrudge him -the privilege." - -"Well, then, I don't," replied Peter, after a moment's reflection. "Let -him keep them; he owes it to them." - -"It is time for me to be at my office, Peter; so good bye," said Jacob, -rising to leave. - -"Remember Monroe," said Peter. - -"Oh, I'll see to that," said Jacob, as he went out. - -So are the "ropes" laid, as per the rule of things, to further the ends -of the men who neither toil nor spin. Were the dear people less disposed -to supine indifference toward their public officials, the government of -our country would be as perfect, no doubt, as that of the fabled Utopia. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -JOHN WINTHROPE IS SURROUNDED BY PERPLEXITIES. - - -The morbidly silent Monroe went about his duties with the serenity of a -cat out on a dark night. The immobility of his starched face left no -impression on the beholder of it as to whether he could be successfully -punctured with the light of pleasantry. His feline movements from office -to office among the clerical force cast an uncanny glamour over them -all; and when not in the act of always appearing to be ready to make a -spring upon them, as he glided whisperingly through the aisles of desks -and high stands, he would be sitting at his own desk, in a corner of his -private room, scanning sheet after sheet of reports and balances, and -running over leaf after leaf of notations that had been left on his -spindle for his especial perusal. - -He was a very precise man, very accurate, very painstaking. He was a -very obdurate man, very exacting, very positive. He was a very efficient -man, very dependable, very obliging. He was a very incomprehensible man, -very calculating, very mysterious. And besides, he was by nature very -crafty, revengeful and egotistic. None of which traits could be read in -his marble-like physiognomy; but they had to be worked out, to see them -plainly, by a system of watching, and close scrutiny of his acts. He had -risen in the office force from the bottom, and held his present post by -right of apparent merit. - -No one under him, or above, for that matter, ever dreamed that behind -his iron mask lay another man, unscrupulous and unfaithful. No one ever -thought of him but that he was honest, upright and beyond reproach. No -one ever thought of him being a depraved man, as being licentious, as -being impure in thought and actions; because all these things were -hidden under his bushel of contrarieties. - -At his desk, Mr. Monroe always worked with dispatch in disposing of the -matters that daily came before him; and rarely could he be approached, -except by the carrier of messages, or by an important personage, and -then by announcement--except the head of the firm, who, of course, had -free access to his room. - -He was sitting, one day, enveloped in a great pile of work, when it was -announced that Mr. Winthrope, the secretary, desired an audience with -him. The secretary was admitted; but he was not asked to sit down. He -stood before him in his own power; and he drew his own conclusions. But -he said: - -"Mr. Monroe, do you have at hand the balance sheet of last month?" - -"I can get it," he answered, automatically. - -"Mr. Jarney desires to go over it again," said John. - -Mr. Monroe procured the sheet, and stiffly handed it to John, with one -of his stony stares. John took the sheet and left him. When he reached -the door, going out, he turned and caught the stolid face of Monroe -still upon him. Neither said a word. John went out. Mr. Monroe pressed a -button. A short, heavy set, square shouldered man, with green eyes, -answered the button's call. He was Welty Morne, the head of the -bookkeeping department. - -"Welty," said Monroe, familiarly, "do you ever see the secretary after -work hours?" - -"No." - -"Do you know where he lives?" - -"At The King House, Diamond alley." - -"He is never out at night, is he?" - -"I have never seen him." - -"He never associates with the boys, does he?" - -"He seems to be a seclusive chap," said Welty. - -"Yes; and very selfish," said Monroe, quietly. "Does he spend any -money?" - -"Have no way of knowing--except, perhaps, he pays his board and rent." - -"Let us call on him tonight, and initiate him; will you?" - -"I should like a little outing in this disagreeable weather, and will be -happy to join you," replied Welty, with his green eyes beaming in -anticipation of a lark. - -"Will you call at my place at nine p. m.?" - -"I will--whee-e-e!" - -Welty Morne retires. The button is pressed again. Bate Yenger, assistant -to the head bookkeeper, enters. He sits down, and looks indolent. He is -a slim chap, with a fair face and black eyes, which show indications of -night-hawking. - -"Bate," said the impressionless Monroe, "have you met the new secretary -after work hours?" - -"Have not." - -"Know anything of his habits?" - -"Nothing." - -"Do you want to go on a lark tonight?" - -"Wouldn't mind it." - -"Then come to my place at nine p. m." - -Bate Yenger disappears. Monroe resumes his work. John returns the -balance sheet, and hands it to Monroe. Monroe takes it, and scans it -over. He sees some check-marks upon it. He folds it up, and puts it -away. John remains a moment, as if he would like to speak to Monroe; but -Monroe does not speak. John, then, goes out. - - * * * * * - -Promptly on the hour of nine p. m., Welty Morne and his boon companion, -Bate Yenger, called at the apartments of Mr. Monroe at the St. Charles. -That chunk of stiffness they found was ready, and together the three -fared forth for a night of rounding. - -They called upon John Winthrope in his dingy quarters--a hideous -contrast, they thought, to their own bright and luxurious living places. -John was surprised, of course, to see them. Would he go out with them? -Whither? For sight-seeing. - -John looked at his open books and papers on his little table, glanced -down at himself, half inclined to accept; but very perplexed about it. -He hesitated, and then asked them into his room. They entered, but did -not sit down, as there was only one chair, which later was preempted by -Welty. - -"Why don't you get decent quarters, Mr. Winthrope?" asked Welty, who was -a lively and a very talkative fellow. - -"Cannot afford it," answered John. - -"Oh, bosh! You receive as much, and more, than many of the other young -men in our office, and the way they fly one would think they were -millionaires' sons," replied Welty. - -"I have a mother and father to assist," said John. - -"Won't you go tonight; we will pay the way," insisted the persuasive -Welty. - -John still hesitated. He pondered a moment, and then replied: "No, thank -you; I do not care to go." - -"Just tonight, Mr. Winthrope; three is a company, and four is a crowd," -pursued Welty. - -"I thank you very much, Mr. Morne; but really, now, I do not care to -go," persisted John. - -During this ineffectual conversation, Monroe stood leaning against the -door as passive as a tombstone, with Bate Yenger leaning awkwardly -against the wall near him, looking as vapid as a snake in winter time. -Welty was disconcerted, disappointed, and aggravated. At John's last -remark, he tried to hide his displeasure of it beneath a subtle smile -that was a cross between sarcasm and disgust. John sat on the edge of -his bed in a thoughtless mood, chewing the end of a tooth-pick. All four -were silent for an uncomfortable period of time. Then Welty broke the -spell. - -"So you won't join us?" he asked. - -"No; thank you; I do not care to go," answered John. - -"Ah, he is not so easy as I thought," said Monroe to himself. - -Silence followed. John sat still, masticating his tooth-pick, being -little concerned as to how they took his answer. He wanted to be curt to -them, by demeanor; and wished they would depart. For reasons of his own, -which he considered private, as far as he was concerned, he did not -desire their company under any circumstances. Therefore, while he aimed -always to be polite to the triumvirate schemers, he would rather show -himself to be a boor than to have them about him. - -So, disgusted with John's susceptibility to fall into their trap, and -displeased at their own lack of tact, the three gentlemen went rattling -down the stairs, and out into the street. - -"He's a Sunday-schooler, all right," said Welty, as they lined up side -by side, with Monroe in between, to go down the avenue. - -"Aw, a cheap skate," said Bate. - -After Monroe began to realize the abject failure of his scheme, and -after the words of the other gentlemen had percolated through his -adamantine head, he remarked, in reply to each of the other's opinion, -that Winthrope was a sissy, which application, it is readily seen, was -not well placed; then he said: "He is an impeccable good-for-nothing. He -needs to be shown a thing or two in this old town--but he will learn all -right, like the rest of them." - -"You are a poor inveigler," said Welty to Monroe, facetiously. - -"My time, like that of all dogs, will come yet," said Monroe. - -"Well; I would like to know your motive?" asked Welty. - -"Oh, I just wanted to get him limbered up a little," answered the astute -one. - -Thus being vanquished in his purpose, Monroe excused himself, after they -had walked a few blocks, and retreated to his rooms, there to enter upon -the duties of outlining a more ingenious campaign toward the destruction -of John Winthrope's name, and to ruin his chances for continuing in the -office of Jarney & Lowman. His first conceived plan was to get John -Winthrope out of the way, in the head office. This he could only hope to -do by besmirching his character, or cause him to commit some overt act -of deportment that would be laid up against him in the eyes of Mr. -Jarney. - -So, after being rebuffed in his first effort, Monroe concluded to take -another tack, and would thereafter become and be John's intimate friend, -a good fellow towards him, and a hearty supporter of him before the -firm, and thereby get results. These things he thought out pretty -clearly, and definitely decided that on the morrow he would bombard the -fort from another angle. - -So on the morrow, as soon as Mr. Winthrope had arrived, he was surprised -to receive a polite little note, via the messenger, to call in the -office of Mr. Monroe as early as convenient, and without interference in -his official capacity. Ever prompt in complying with such informal -invitations (which he took it to be, instead of a command), and having -time to spare before the arrival of Mr. Jarney, he repaired at once to -the sanctum of Mr. Monroe. - -That gentleman, John was also surprised to see, had unbended to such -proportions, that, when John approached his desk, he arose, and shook -hands with him, an heretofore unheard of performance of cordiality on -Mr. Monroe's part. - -"I have asked you in, Mr. Winthrope," said Monroe, "to apologize for -intruding on you last night. It was only a whim of one of the boys out -on a lark, with whom, unfortunately, I fell in with at the untimely -hour." - -"Oh, that is all right, Mr. Monroe," replied John. "I took no offense at -your visit." - -"I thought, perhaps, you might have been offended." - -"The fact is, I was very busy last night and forgot all about your -intrusion after you had gone," said John, smiling affably, but with -noticeable indifference in his voice. - -"I should like to have your confidence, Mr. Winthrope," said the wily -one. "Inasmuch, as we are near to the head of the firm, we should be on -better terms." - -"Perhaps we should," answered John, still indifferent. - -"I shall deem it a pleasure to have you call on me some evening, and -accompany me to dinner; or, if you will set the time, I shall call on -you." - -"You are very kind, Mr. Monroe." - -"May I call, or will you call?" - -"Neither," replied John, without exhibiting a sign of what he meant. - -"Then, I am to understand, you do not court my company?" said the -unruffled one. - -"No; not that, Mr. Monroe. I am very busy of evenings. Sometime I may -accept your invitation; but not for the present," responded John. - -"What is it that so engrosses you of evenings, may I inquire?" asked the -worming Monroe. - -"Yes; you may ask whatever you please--I am taking a post-graduate -course in business on my own time," said John. - -"To what end?" asked Monroe. - -"That I may be better prepared to perform my duties; for that reason I -do not care to spare the time to go out." - -"Very well, Mr. Winthrope; success to you," said Monroe. "But may I not -anticipate your company to dinner before very long?" - -"I cannot now decide, Mr. Monroe--not now; but will inform you of my -decision at a later date," replied John. - -Hearing Mr. Jarney enter his office at this juncture, John said good bye -to the cat, and retired. He found Mr. Jarney tuned to a conversational -degree that morning that perplexed him. Mr. Jarney dictated a few -letters, beginning on them as was his custom, immediately after taking -his seat, and looking over some important ones; then he lighted a cigar, -and reared back in his chair in pleasant contemplation of the circles -that he blew out and sent upwards like escaping halos. John sat -regarding him for a few seconds with calm complacency; then, seeing that -he did not intend to proceed further, for the present, with the -dictation, said that he would retire and transcribe the letters. - -"No hurry, Mr. Winthrope; no hurry," said Mr. Jarney, looking -searchingly at John. "You are the most unfathomable chap I ever saw, Mr. -Winthrope," he continued. "Here a week has gone by and you have not yet -made inquiry about my daughter's health." - -John was astonished at this statement. - -"Mr. Jarney, I should have inquired," he said; "but I felt it out of -place for me to be so familiar with your family matters." - -"Why so?" he asked, with sharpness. - -"I feared you might think me presumptuous," replied John, timidly. - -"You presumptuous? I am not snobbish, Mr. Winthrope," he returned. - -"Well, I felt that I would be keeping my place, by keeping silent," said -John. - -"I never mentioned the matter, Mr. Winthrope, because I wanted to see -just how long you would be silent," said Mr. Jarney. "And don't you care -to know?" - -"Why, Mr. Jarney, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to know -that Miss Jarney is improving." - -"She is not," he said, despondently. - -"Is she serious?" asked John. - -"Very serious," he replied. Mr. Jarney must have noticed the pallor that -stole over John's face at this unwelcome information; but if he did not, -he divined John's eagerness to know more of Edith's complaint, and -continued: "Yes, Mr. Winthrope, she is very serious. She has brain -fever. The escapade of young Barton brought a great blow upon us all; -for I have great fears of her recovery." - -"Do the doctors give no hope?" asked John, eagerly. - -"No hope," was the reply, as Mr. Jarney shook his head, and resuming his -old demeanor of being affected by some inward impulses that had pervaded -him for the week past. - -"I am very sorry, Mr. Jarney, that I did not know of this before now, so -that I could have sympathized with you," said John, feelingly. - -"I appreciate your modesty, Mr. Winthrope, in not inquiring, and I -deplore my disposition in not being more communicative; for I knew all -along you were anxious to know, after the kind services you rendered us -by bringing her home," said Mr. Jarney, speaking now with considerable -emotion. - -"I know I should have inquired, Mr. Jarney, and was on the point of -doing so several times, but I always felt that you were indifferent as -to how I felt about the matter." - -"Mr. Winthrope, I must be frank with you, for dear Edith's sake, and -tell you all. She--" - -"--not expected to recover," interrupted John, bending forward intently. - -"No, that is not what I was about to say," he replied, scanning John's -face. "While in a delirium, she repeatedly calls for you. Every day and -every night she has been doing this, since you brought her home. We -would have sent for you to come to see her had we believed your presence -would have been of any avail in bringing her to her reason. But, as the -doctors said that is true in all such cases, we deferred to their -advice. As her father, I do not believe their opinion is of much moment -in her present critical condition, so I am going to request you to -accompany me to my home this evening for dinner, and incidentally you -may see Edith, for what comfort she, or you, may have in such a -meeting." - -This was certainly startling information to Mr. Winthrope. He had put -through many fruitless hours wondering about the outcome of Edith's -illness, and suffered some pangs of heart thereby; but little did he -dream, or anticipate, that he could, in any manner, be considered by the -lady, whose station in life was miles and miles above him. The statement -of Mr. Jarney only caused him more regret, for he considered Edith's use -of his name, in her delirious hours, the wild fancies of an afflicted -brain. And he was perplexed. - -"If it is your wish, I shall be glad to go with you, Mr. Jarney," said -John, after gaining his composure. - -Mr. Jarney noticed the effect of what he said upon the young man, and he -could not restrain from saying: "I shall deem it a pleasure; and I know -it will be a great favor to Mrs. Jarney if you go." - -"I shall go," he said. - -"Then we will leave the office early," said Mr. Jarney. - -"May I have time to dress?" asked John. - -"All the time you require, Mr. Winthrope. You may leave the office at -three, and be ready to go at four." - -"Thank you; I will be ready," returned John, as he gathered up his note -book and papers, and repaired to his office. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - -WHAT DOES THE HEART SAY? - - -An auto being in waiting at the curb, and John being ready at the -appointed time, he and Mr. Jarney joined each other at the main entrance -of the office building; and together were whirled away, in a twinkling, -toward the mansion on the hill. - -This was the second time that he had been summoned to that palace of a -Croesus; for a second time he went, not of his own volition; for a -second time he drew near the place, with a strange feeling in his soul; -and he wondered if Fate, after all, is not a strange outliner of one's -life. The first time, a deep mystery surrounded his sudden summoning, -ending with a very romantic sequel; the second time, the cause leading -up to his going was as deep a mystery as the first, with no telling -what the climax might be. So, with these thoughts alone passing through -his head as he rode silently by the side of his superior through the -whizzing wind and beating rain and whirling smoke, he was not a little -agitated when the chauffeur drew up at the side door, and the master had -stepped out, and he was bidden to follow. - -He remembered well that entrance on the former occasion, in the night, -with its beaming lights and glistening panels of glass and brilliancy of -the interior reflecting over him in his amazement. He remembered very -well the gliding through the rooms of the family and the attendants, -like roving spirits in despair in a fairy bower. He remembered all these -things through the eye of the night:--of his sudden departure from the -mansion; of his mission through the space of miles, and his quick -return, and triumphant end--for the sake of duty. All these things he -recalled, as if ruminating on a hazy dream. But when he came the second -time, in the gloom of the late afternoon, and seeing the sombreness of -the walls, the doors, the porches, the lawn and everything, stripped of -the glare of artificial light, he felt that within the house a similar -gloom prevailed. - -He followed Mr. Jarney, now with a palpitating heart. The valet took his -coat and hat and umbrella; and he was escorted to the warmth, the cheer, -the beauty, the radiance, the grandeur of the parlor, and was begged to -be seated. And he saw that the house was as silent as a morgue; he saw -the long faces of the servants, and noted their confidential looks and -glances toward him; he saw that the lights were burning dimly, and as -they might burn for several days to come; he saw friends of the family -glide in like spectres, with inquiring faces, and whisper, and saw them -depart as silently; he saw the piano was closed, and the music piled up. -He saw Mrs. Jarney coming down the great white stairway, darkly clothed, -with tear-stained eyes and tired movements. He felt the oppressive dread -that was over all. And he trembled. - -Mrs. Jarney approached him, with Mr. Jarney at her side, he having met -her at the foot of the stairs. John arose as she put out her hand, and -when he shook it, he noticed that she was excessively perturbed. - -"I am very happy to see you, Mr. Winthrope," she said, with some effort. -"I wish to thank you for your services in behalf of my daughter on that -dreadful evening." - -"You have my sincere sympathy, Mrs. Jarney," responded John. "May I -inquire if Miss Jarney is improving?" - -"No improvement, Mr. Winthrope, that we can see," she replied. - -"Is it so that Mr. Winthrope can see her?" asked Mr. Jarney of his wife. - -"He may go now, if he does not feel it too great a favor to us," replied -Mrs. Jarney, wiping away her tears. - -"I assure you, Mrs. Jarney," said John, "that I do not hold such a -matter in the light of favor; but as a matter of the gravest importance -to you both." - -"Mr. Winthrope," said Mrs. Jarney, placing her hand upon his arm, "there -are trials in this life, to a mother, which no man can understand; and -this is one of them. We have asked you to come here because we believe -in you, because we know and feel that you are good. Do not think that we -are not under obligations to you, and that my dear Edith will not be -thankful to you, if she recovers. We know and you know that your coming -is by reason of unusual circumstances; and as her mother, I do not want -you to think, Mr. Winthrope, that my emotions have gone beyond my -reason. She has called your name so many times that I could not bear to -hear it longer without you coming here. I fancied, at first, that it -was, as the doctors have said, only the fancy of an afflicted brain; but -I believe it is more than that. I beg your pardon, Mr. Winthrope, if I -have spoken too plainly. Now, if you are ready we will proceed to her -room." - -John was proud himself, though poor. He was proud of his good name; -proud of his old father and mother, and his own dear sister and brother -in the mountains; he was proud that others held him in high esteem; -proud of their friendly consideration, of the confidence in which they -held him, and of their frankness. When Mr. Jarney first broached the -subject of his going to see his daughter, he took it as a question of -duty, albeit he was not altogether dum to its influence on his heart; -and when Mrs. Jarney spoke to him, with even more freedom than her -husband, he could not resist the effect any longer. - -He therefore went up the stairs in a state of mind that was a mixture -between despair and hope. He was preceded by the parents of Edith. They -passed through a hall bewildering to John in its elegance, he following, -and at length came to the door of a bed room. Mrs. Jarney opened it, and -they silently filed within, like going into the chamber of the dead, so -softly did they move. - -At one side of a bed sat a nurse, on the other sat Star Barton, faithful -in her bleeding heart. On the bed lay the fevered form of Edith in snowy -whiteness. To the beholders she was like a transporting angel, only the -flush of life was in her cheeks--the flush of her affliction. Her white -hands lay twitching over the coverlets. Her face was upturned, her blue -eyes staring, her lips mumbling indistinct words. She was apparently -dead to all things mortal. No wonder Star was in tears; no wonder the -parents felt a dread shudder pass through them; no wonder the nurse had -a solemn face; for the spirit of this pure young woman seemed to be -passing, passing. - -John was not unmoved by the scene, for even his brave strong heart sent -forth a sigh. The parents stood by the bedside looking down upon their -unconscious child in her struggle. After a few moments Mr. Jarney turned -to John, and whispered: - -"We will leave you alone with her and her friend, Miss Barton." - -Then they went out, and the nurse went out. John spoke a word of -recognition to Star, and drew a chair up to the bed and sat down, -looking meditatively at Edith. - -"Has she been unconscious since the night I brought her here?" asked -John. - -"Almost all the time," answered Star. "Sometimes she is rational--then -she calls for you." - -"If she should become rational while I am here, and should see me, do -you think my being here would have any beneficial effect upon her?" -asked John. - -"That is the opinion of her parents," replied Star. - -"You appear to be pretty well worn out by your vigil, Miss Barton," said -John, turning to her, sitting close by his side. - -"I have been in this room ever since she took ill, or since you brought -her here," answered Star. - -"Haven't you taken any rest?" asked John, dubious about her statement. - -"I lie down on the couch there sometimes," pointing to one in the room; -"but I cannot sleep." - -"I fear the trial will be too much for you, Miss Barton." - -"Oh, it is no trial for me to sit here, where I can see her dear face -all the time," responded Star, and then she burst into tears, and John -could hardly restrain his own from flowing, through his deep sympathy -for her in her simple faith. - -Just then Edith turned her face toward them, and gazed wildly about with -her pretty blue eyes rolling in their sockets. Then she threw one hand -over the side of the bed. John lifted it up tenderly, and laid it back -in place, and then it was that he became aware of how feverish she was. -Edith mumbled something. - -"She is making an effort to speak your name," said Star, who was now -used to her strange fancyings, and could interpret almost any -unintelligible word she spoke. Then bending over Edith, she said: "He is -here, dear Edith." - -Edith looked up at Star, with what appeared to be a faint smile. Star -took one hand, and held it, patting it lovingly. "Here he is, dear -Edith; don't you see him?" she said, as Edith now uttered the name -distinctly. - -Edith paid no heed to Star, but rolled her head and muttered John's -name. Then she became calmer, and lay still; arousing herself after a -few minutes, and repeating the name again. - -"He is here, Edith, by your bedside; can't you see?" said Star, bending -over her. "Come closer, Mr. Winthrope, that she might see you." - -John thereat moved nearer to the bed, and leaned over her. - -"Here is Mr. Winthrope, Edith," said Star, as she placed a hand upon her -hot forehead. - -Edith turned her head, and sighed. Her eyes ceased their starey look. -She became calmer; sighed again. Then, without assistance, she raised -herself up, and her long hair fell over her shoulders. In her illness -now, John thought she was prettier than before when he saw her in her -best of health. As she arose, Star caught her by the shoulders, and made -an attempt to lay her down on her pillow again; but Edith shook her off, -with her fever-strength supreme in her. She then crossed her hands -before her, bent her head forward; then threw it backward, and gazed -across the room to the farther wall, like one staring into the -infinitude of time in its blankness. - -John sat watching her, moved to piteous supplication for this fair young -lady in her distress of mind. - -"Star," said Edith, turning upon Miss Barton, in a strange clear voice, -"have you seen Mr. Winthrope?" - -"Here he is, dear Edith," replied Star, stroking her hair. "Here by your -bed; don't you see him?" - -"That is not Mr. Winthrope," she answered, in the same strange tone. - -"No, no, dear Edith; he is here--Mr. Winthrope look into her face?" said -Star, turning to John, whose head was bowed under the weight of the -impression that this girl's ravings made on him. John obeyed Star's -request, and looked Edith in the face. Edith then put out a hand, and -touched that of his; then fell back, burying her head in her soft -pillow, with her hands over her face. - -"She knows you," whispered Star. - -"Shall I retire?" asked John, believing that the crisis had been -reached. - -"Oh, not yet," answered Star. Then leaning over Edith again, said: -"Edith, do you want to see Mr. Winthrope again before he goes?" - -Edith reached out a hand toward him, turned her head, and let her eyes -move slowly in his direction. Then she laid her hand upon his. He picked -it up, and she permitted him to hold it. - -"Mr. Winthrope?" she said. - -"I am he," he replied. - -She smiled, and her eyes became less roving. "I am better," she -whispered. - -"Edith, I knew you would be better as soon as he came," said Star, -kissing her. "Are you not glad, Mr. Winthrope?" asked Star of him. - -"Very, very," he responded. He touched his lips to her fevered hand; and -how it thrilled him. - -"Now, you may retire, if you wish," said Star. - -"Will you come again?" said Edith, in a very low voice; "often; often?" - -"If I am permitted," replied John, releasing her hand, and rising. - -"You have my permission," whispered Edith, feebly attempting to smile. -"Oh, I am so weak, I am afraid it will be such a long time before I can -leave this bed." Turning to Star, she said: "Have mamma keep him for -dinner, if it is near that time--or breakfast, or lunch." - -"He will remain," answered Star. - -"You will come in before you go--you will come again, Mr. Winthrope?" -asked Edith, faintly. - -"By your father's permission," he answered, smiling down upon her. - -"He will permit you," said Edith. - -"Good bye," said John, taking Edith's hand again. - -"Good bye; don't fail to come in again before you go?" said Edith. - -"I shall come," he said, kissing her lily hand; after which he lay it -down with the greatest reluctance. - -Then he left her, with a world of thrilling emotions consuming him. -Seeing no one in the hallway, he proceeded alone down the stairs to the -parlor, there to be met by the gloomy countenances of Edith's loving -parents, who were at that moment in such a distracted state of mind that -they almost collapsed over wrong expectations over this singular meeting -of their daughter with John Winthrope. Both rose as they saw John -approaching, and sighed. - -"How is she?" both asked together. - -"Better," was John's response. - -Mr. Jarney took John by the hand, and said: "How greatly relieved I am." -Mrs. Jarney did not wait for further information; but ran up the stairs, -and went headlong into her daughter's room. - -"Oh, my child! my child!" she cried in the excess of her joy, seeing the -token of rationality in Edith's face. She fell on the bed by Edith's -side, almost in a faint, throwing her arms about her. Edith was not in -condition to withstand such a stormy outburst of motherly affection. -Star, understanding the bad effect such extreme commotion might have -upon her charge, persuaded Mrs. Jarney to be calm, and all would be -well. - -"Did you know him, Edith?" asked her mother, still mentally agitated. - -"Yes, mamma," replied Edith, so low she could hardly be heard. - -"Was it he that effected a cure, Edith?" - -"Oh, mamma, I am not well yet," said Edith; "and it may be a long time -before I get out of this." - -"Was it he, Edith, that brought about the crisis?" persisted the mother. - -"It might have been, mamma," said Edith. - -"Edith, are you keeping a secret from me?" pursued her mother. - -"Dear mamma, I cannot bear up, if you keep on," whispered Edith, growing -restless. - -"Mrs. Jarney, it would be best not to disturb her any more; she needs -sleep," said Star, advisedly. - -Mrs. Jarney, realizing her mistaken enthusiasm, quieted down, and -slipped out of the room, and bustled down the stairs in an -uncontrollable plight of flusteration. She rushed up to Mr. Winthrope, -and was almost in the act of embracing that young gentleman, who had -earned his way unconsciously into her faver to such proportions that the -good lady could not keep away from him all evening. In verity, Mrs. -Jarney was so dignifiedly considerate that she would have, under the -spur of the stimulent of joy, given her consent right then to John -becoming a permanent member of her household (had he thought of asking -that privilege of her) had it not have been that a little bit of -money-pride overbalanced her gratitude. And, in truth, too, Mr. Jarney -might have fallen under the same magic that John had also cast over him, -had it not have been that his pride was a little greater than he could -consistently overcome. But this did not prevent Mr. Jarney from -showering upon John encomiums of all kinds for the rest of his stay in -the house that evening. - -John, being prodigiously sensitive on the matter of the propriety of a -thing done, was with difficulty persuaded in his own mind that Edith's -wish was any more than a good woman's gratefulness. Although he made a -great effort that evening to keep down the blazing fires of the one -great human passion, he could not extinguish them altogether, for the -more he thought of the cause that led up to his coming there, the -fiercer the coals blazed within him: till his soul was almost afire. - -Dinner was eaten in great state, the first of the kind for John; but he, -being an adaptable young man, was equal to anything that confronted -him. And while dining, he did not fail to notice the changed spirits of -all the inmates of the house, from the head of it down to the waiter; -for the later were profuse in showing him deference, in their looks and -actions; he did not fail to notice the change in the lights that gave -back a much more cheerful caress, where before they were feebly -lifeless; he did not fail to notice the change in the countenances of -the friends of the family, who came in with a deadening look, and went -out with a smile; he did not fail to notice all these things; nor could -he help but feel that he was the one person who might have brought it -about. In consequence, he passed through the evening in the ascending -mood of rapturous delight; but, though, always with a fear--a fear bound -up in one corner of his heart--that he was only being rewarded for his -services as the servant of this great man of money, the father of Edith. -But John, do not despair; there are worse people in this world, who are -rich, than the Jarneys. - -John kept his promise, and called to see Edith just before he was ready -to leave the mansion. She was sleeping when he was let into the darkened -room; and when he looked down upon her, in her purity, dreaming, perhaps -of him, he felt the power of love that was bearing him down. Were -everything made of sweet toned bells, and they were every one ringing, -no greater would be the alarum than that which at that moment knelled -through him. The fear of death coming to her, the fear of her loss -should she come back to life, the fear of those who brought her into the -world, the fear of Fate, the fear of Chance, struck him dumb. Would her -death be worse than life? he thought; would her life be worse than -death? Sleeping calmly, peacefully, without a murmur from her lips; -breathing lightly, evenly, without a break in the respiration; resting -now as if the angels had brought a cure from out the skies--John felt -the holy thrall which controlled him. - -He knelt down by the bed, and took her white hand in his, and tears of -his mercy wet her limp fingers; and he prayed. - -Then, rising, with his heart too full to speak, he turned to the door to -leave. Miss Barton, seeing his agitation, came up to speak to him, with -her eyes also filled with tears. - -"Wait till she awakes," she said. - -"I cannot," he replied. - -"She expects to see you before you go." - -"Tell her--" and he was gone. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -BILLY BARTON'S FLIGHT. - - -When Billy Barton left his home and family, he went without a clue to -his destination; and he left no word behind of his going. - -The world to him had been a series of degenerating allurements ever -since he could remember anything; and Evil Repute was the sum of his -reward. He was brought up amid the scenes of the river's traffic as a -wharf man, or roustabout; and was called the waterman, by reason of an -ineradicable habit he had of invariably falling into the stream when -intoxicated. This predilection of Billy's might have cured such a -failing in any other man; but the more often Billy fell into the river -the less inclined he was to accept the water cure. The frequency of -these periodic immersions grew to such dimensions that his -qualifications as a wharfman became nil, and he thereby lost his right -to a permanancy among the gang, causing him, one day early in his years, -to be placed on the reserve list to take his chances for obtaining work -as an extra. - -Billy was like many another man of his class: he had no inclination to -reach a higher level, or lacked the ability to go higher; and by these -well developed attributes, in him, he found it pretty hard picking among -the dispensers of jobs. It appears that he was continually in ill-luck, -when it came to making assignments for the long line of men in waiting. -Sometimes he would put in a day or so of work, with a disposition to be -light-hearted over his luck; but it very often happened that when he was -wanted, he was under the influence of drink; or had just recovered -himself from a baptism in the river; and so he was many times -overlooked. This vicarious situation did not tend to better his -condition. It only made him worse. What between his few spells of work, -and his numerous spells of sprees, he had a petty sum left on which to -keep his growing family. - -Billy Barton was a very clever man in his sober moments; but so seldom -was he ever in that state of good behavior, that his cleverness was -overlooked even by his most intimates. What is hereof meant by this use -of the word clever, is that it was applied to him in the vernacular -sense, and not in its strict usage. So when in that state of temporary -sanity, he was ever ready with a rough wit of the hang-dog style--the -wit of the waterfront, of the grog shop, of the slums, of the -rough-and-ready characters of his calling; and this he carried to his -home, very often to his sorrow. He used to tell the "boys" that he had -an "old woman" who could give any one spades in cards in her fetching -ways toward general cussedness. But Billy would condone all that poor -woman's incapacities, whenever he would get drunk, and, with a great -display of imaginary wealth, which he said he would fall heir to some -day, impress upon her impressionable mind the beauties of their future. - -Thus by such tactics, he, for a number of years, kept her hopefully on -the high wave of anticipation and expectation. This trait of Billy's was -one of his redeeming qualities, if he ever had any other; so much so -that ere he had reached his present age of discretion, he began really -to believe that he was as rich as the man in the mansion on the hill; -which mansion he always kept a weather's eye out for, no difference how -much smoke or fog clouded his sense of perception. - -But Kate Barton, long ago, began to realize that his tantalizing -predictions and promises were merely vaporings. So, when things with her -became inordinately unbearable, she began to attempt a reformation of -him by the process of her voluableless tongue. At first she scolded him -gently; then firmly, then remorselessly; tongue-lashed him; berated him -from Soho to McKee's Rocks; and, finally, seeing that this method was -without effect, adopted the corporal punishment plan. But by no such -inducements, however, could she prevail upon him to reform, and act the -true part of a husband and father. Thus, being in an environment that -would, without a doubt, corrupt old Satan himself, Billy went from bad -to worse, and from worse to the finite degree of dissipation. Resorting -to the saloons as a solace for his sorrows, he there found out, when too -late, that as long as he had a penny he could secure the required -consolation that he craved. Ultimately, reaching an end in this -direction, he became obsessed with the desire to flee. And flee he did. - - * * * * * - -Any one standing, at any point, on the south side of the Smithfield -street bridge, on the day of his departure, might have seen the bent -form of a once well built, square-shouldered, red-faced, blue-eyed man, -wearing a slouch hat, check shirt, blue overalls, faded coat, and -brogans on his feet, and a rusty overcoat on his arm, aimlessly walking -across it, going northward. Had he been followed, the observer would -have seen him turn up Second avenue, with the same shambling gait, and -with his nose directed toward the devious ways of Soho. - -They would have seen him wind in and out among the alley ways and -bypaths between the mills and factories and shops, have heard him ask -for work, and have heard the answer, "Don't want you." They would have -seen him come out into the street, stop, hesitate; go on, with the same -determination in his bleary eyes. They would have seen him continuing, -with an inquiry here and there; they would have seen him brushed aside, -and go on. They would have seen him treading the ties of the Baltimore & -Ohio, through the interminable region of noise--of belching furnaces, of -rattling factories, of shouting men, of screeching engines, mile after -mile. They would have seen him stop at a poor man's house--one almost -like his own--and heard him ask for food and bed, and would have seen -him receive it, sometimes. They would have seen him stop, and rest, and -meditate; have seen him sneered at, chased by policemen, stoned by boys, -hooted by ruffians, scolded by women; have seen him rejected, dejected, -despondent, and in despair--a weary wayfarer, an outcast, discarded by -his family, condemned by his fellow man--a human wreck, with not a hand -outstretched to him to lend him the aid and encouragement that he needed -in that hour--except, perhaps, the hand of the Almighty, in retribution. - -And more; they would have seen Billy Barton go through the suburbs of -Glenwood, Hazelwood, Rankin; through the boroughs of Braddock, of -Homestead, of Duquesne, and on to McKeesport, meeting always with the -same inglorious reception--day after day, week after week, asking, -begging, starving. They would have seen him sleeping in deserted -buildings, in fields, in box cars; by the roadsides, on the hillsides, -in the woods; everywhere where man was not, save some stragglers of his -own ilk. They would have seen him eventually entering saloons in the -slum quarters; have seen him set upon, beaten, kicked and thrown into -the streets, a poor worthless cuss, too vile, even now, for any of his -former cronies to recognize, had they chanced across him. They would, as -a climax to his wanderings, have seen him dragged into a town's nasty, -filthy, foul, venom-infested jail, there to await the merciful order of -a just and honest judge, who might, peradventure, take compassion on -him; and, as a finality, have seen him sentenced to penal servitude as a -vagrant. - -Holy of Holies! praise be to God! cry the keepers of the loaves and -fishes! But for the goodness of a pure young woman, his children might -have starved. And say that the male-man is a generous creature! - - * * * * * - -In the little black office of The Die, Peter sat humped up, like a -drooling ape, scanning the interior of his junk shop through his -peephole. He saw the cringing Eli, like a witless ass, having another -set-to with a short stalky fellow because he did not give the password. -He saw Eli floored, and thumped in the ribs by the man's foot. Whereat -Peter gathered up his courage and went out to ascertain the wherefor of -the disturbance. - -"Hah, Welty Morne," whispered Peter, seeing who the man was; "come in;" -and he waddled rearward, leaving the defeated servant to readjust -himself as to how he may. - -"Set down," said he to Welty, after falling down himself like a bloated -lobster, and taking up his pipe, and espionage. "What? What now?" he -asked. - -"We have heard at last from Billy Barton," said Welty. - -"Where'd you get that information? The wretch!" roared Peter, -sardonically. - -"From Monroe." - -"And Monroe?" - -"From Cobb." - -"And Cobb?" - -"From the warden." - -"The wretch!" shouted Peter. "Let him die there! What's his time?" - -"Six months." - -"Good! We'll make it six more." - -"Am I to return that information?" asked Welty. - -"Yes," snapped Peter. "What else from Monroe?" - -"He has failed to rope in Winthrope." - -"What next?" - -"His new scheme is to put him as treasurer of the company." - -"Good! Go to it, tell him. How's the girl?" - -"Jarney took the young man to his home to see her, and she is -recovering." - -Peter frowned at this, that is at that part of the information relating -to taking Winthrope to the Jarney home. He rubbed his hands, pulled at -his pipe vigorously, almost spat on Welty in an effort to reach a -saw-dust box used as a receptacle for his expectorations. - -"She's a mighty fine girl," said Peter. "What does Monroe draw from that -incident?" - -"That Winthrope has inclinations toward her." - -"And her father?" asked Peter. - -"He permits it." - -"Why don't young Cobb push his suit?" asked Peter. - -"Oh, she would never have anything to do with him." - -"Why doesn't he get Winthrope out of the way!" exclaimed Peter. - -"He is laying the ropes to ensnare him," said Welty, showing his teeth -like a grinning dog, and flashing his green eyes. - -"What else?" asked Peter, ceasing to rub his hands, and looking up at -Welty with some anxiety. - -"There's going to be a strike on all the papers," replied Welty. - -"Oh, that's all fixed up," said Peter, with consuming pride (judging -from the speed he rubbed his hands). "The police have instructions to -arrest every dog of them so soon as they step out of their jobs. What -else?" - -"An extra levy has been made on the red-lighters," replied Welty. - -"Good!" exploded Peter. "Tell Monroe to watch out for flurries among -them." - -"They will all come through." - -"Hah, I thought Jacob would bring them to time," whispered Peter. "How's -he coming with his new company?" - -"He'll have a million to float in a week." - -"Why didn't he make it ten?" asked Peter. - -"He's afraid the people are getting weary with so much stock already on -the market." - -"The coal combine went," said Peter, smiling. - -"But that was the project of the other gang," said Welty. - -"Well, I got my tribute, as well as Jacob, for our little assistance," -he answered, with more fierce rubbing. - -"Ah, they will all pay--that is, the big ones." - -"Some of the little ones, too, eh?" said Peter. - -"Where do I come in, Peter?" suddenly asked Welty. This question caused -Peter to look up quickly, with a leer. - -"You're not showing the white feather?" asked Peter. - -"No, no; but I need some money." - -"How much?" - -"A thousand." - -"I will have Jacob see you," returned Peter. - -Then Welty departed. He found Eli where he had left him, unconscious, -with some customers standing about waiting for the young man to take his -own good time about rising. The customers had come into the store, and -when they saw Eli lying on the floor, remarked among themselves that he -was taking an afternoon's nap. When one of them sought to arouse him, -they became alarmed as to what might have happened, for Eli would not -rouse himself. So they were standing about him in contemplation when -Welty came out of Peter's office. Welty glanced at Eli obliquely, as if -deigning to stoop so low as to lend aid to his victim, brushed past the -onlookers, and made his exit by the front door. - -Peter, seeing that something was wrong, strutted out in a fluster, with -his belly about a foot ahead of him. He had not observed from his -peephole that Eli had not resumed his duties while Welty was in his -office, so great was his interest in that visitor. But finding Eli in -his predicament, Peter called on one of his customers to assist in his -resurrection. Eli, thereupon, was lifted to his feet, but he was so near -the limberness of a rope it was impossible to cause him to assume the -perpendicularity of a standing man. Then that old remedy--water--was -applied, with no effect. Eli looked like a faded piece of blue calico, -so deathly was his face. - -They called a doctor; with no results. They called an ambulance, and -conveyed him to a hospital. They called in the police to make an -investigation; with no results. Peter knew nothing. It was a strange -affair. The customers, of course, knew nothing; nobody could get head -nor tail of what had happened Eli. It was a deep mystery--to the police -department. - -Peter employed a new clerk, temporarily, and resumed his pipe and -peephole. Welty resumed his duties in the office of Jarney & Lowman. In -the meantime Eli Jerey's life hung in the balance; and the world of -business still moved on; for he was only a poor clerk. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -GOOD BYE! GOOD BYE! GOOD BYE! - - -As a metaphysician, John Winthrope could not present his bill of -services, in the nonprofessional sense, for his visit to the Jarneys. -This was the calamitous burden that bore so heavily upon him as he left -the mansion on the hill that night, and kept his head in a whirl all the -way to the city, and to his room, and to his bed, and even late into the -night, till exhausting time relieved him near the breaking of another -day. - -It was the first time that the real tempest of passion had broken in -upon his sea of life; it was the first time that Cupid, with his -implements of war, came to offer battle on his serene and peaceful field -of budding bachelorhood. It was the very first time for him, so -amourously passive was he toward the whiles of the little meddler into -one's heart affairs. It is so with many people, men and women; but when -the storm once breaks in upon their unimpressionable souls it is like a -hurricane let loose, and is unrestrainable. - -He now saw a new light in the heavens, even through the smoke of -Pittsburgh; a new evening star appeared in his firmament, and whirled -through the universe of his night to meet him in the dawn; a new moon -arose, and burst into full reflection of shadowy mysticism; a new sun -circled the arch of his cold earth, and made the plants of joy come into -leafage. Ah, there were no seasons to him now--it was light by day, -light by night--and he was seeing everywhere through his visual -horoscope--except--always except--as to a solution of the great problem -that confronted him. - -The next morning after John's visit to see Miss Edith, Mr. Jarney -arrived at the office a half hour before his time. He was so different -to what he had been on the previous few days that John instinctively -felt his exuberance of pleasantry throughout the entire day. Instead of -taking up his dictation, as had been his wont, Mr. Jarney paced the -floor in his proud and haughty way of doing such things. He spoke to -John, on entering, in his calm, formal explicitness, as had been his -custom, when John entered to take his seat by his master's desk. John -sat waiting for Mr. Jarney to open his letters and proceed; but he did -not touch a letter, at first. He said nothing for some time, but walked -the floor, pondering, as if wrestling with conflicting thoughts. After -awhile he broke the spell. - -"Young man," he said, as he stopped in his walk in front of John, with -his hands deep in his pockets, and his keen eyes sparkling, "I do not -know what to make of you." - -"Am I such a conundrum as all that?" asked John, as he met his master's -eyes, with his own as sharp as those cast upon him. - -"In truth, you are," returned Mr. Jarney. "You are the biggest puzzle I -have ever had to work out." - -"Mr. Jarney, you place me in a very awkward position," answered John. "I -am not certain yet as to what you mean by your allusions." - -"My dear boy--" he started to say, then checked himself, thinking his -manner too familiar, and went on: "Mr. Winthrope, you are master of your -own destiny. You can make it what you will. You can be a leader of -affairs, or you can be nothing." - -"I only hope for an opportunity, Mr. Jarney, to claim the honor of the -first," responded John. - -"That is not what I mean, Mr. Winthrope; it is--well, it is--that you -can do it." - -"I am certainly at a greater loss to understand you, Mr. Jarney," said -John smiling, but still believing that he understood. "Nevertheless, I -appreciate what you say, and will always regard your views with much -favor." - -"Let me tell you, Mr. Winthrope," he pursued; "that business life is a -terror to the average man. It has so many ups and downs that I have -often wondered how so many succeed through all its uncertainties. I -started out as poor as you, and maybe poorer, and have arrived where I -am, with many a pain to accompany me. And still they call me successful. -Had I to start again, I would pursue a different calling--science, -literature, art, or music. These are the things that are a compensation -to one's peace of mind. But most people believe it is money. I do not. I -did once; but I have passed that period of putting money above -everything else. Some will say, no doubt, that it is my view now, since -I have got the money. Truly, had I not a cent, I would be of the same -opinion. It was my opinion before I accumulated it, and I still cling to -that hobby. Still I must continue on acquiring it. Making money is an -endless chain proposition. Once you get into its entanglements, you -cannot let go--you cannot resist its wonderful influence. Why, I should -like to be free from its thralldom; I should like to be as you are, -without the worry and the bother that money entails; I would like to -exchange places with you, were it possible. But that can never happen, I -suppose, so long as I have my present connections. I have often thought -that I would like to tear myself away from its engrossments, to be free -to go at will; to enjoy life with my wife and daughter in some way that -would be to our liking--some way that is different from our present -existence. I do not say that I will take up such a life; I may. I did -not mean to make this lecture to you, Mr. Winthrope; but as I have made -it. I will stand by it." - -"Still I am in as deep a mystery as ever, Mr. Jarney," said John -frankly, and more familiarly than he had ever spoken to him before. - -"If I were a young man like you, and had my money, I would go to my -home--assuming that your home is mine--and there live peacefully the -rest of my days," he replied. - -"Would you suggest that I do it, in my present poverty?" asked John. - -"No; I am just supposing," he returned. - -"I cannot suppose anything, Mr. Jarney; I am not in a supposing -position." - -"That is right, Mr. Winthrope, don't suppose anything; always believe -it, and then go ahead," he said. - -"That is what I have attempted to do; but believing a thing and -obtaining it are two entirely different matters." - -"Yes; you are right." - -He then strode across the room, and returned. - -"I am shocked at your manner of conduct," he said, looking down upon -John. "You have not yet asked about my daughter's health?" - -"I fully intended to, Mr. Jarney, at the first opportunity of breaking -in on our line of conversation," said John. - -"I am very happy to report she is growing better every hour," said Mr. -Jarney, turning on his heel and walking across the room again, and -returning, with a freshly lighted cigar in his mouth. - -"I wish her well," replied John, and then he halted in what he intended -to say further--halted for a moment only, when he asked: "Mr. Jarney, -with your permission, I should like to see Miss Jarney, once in awhile -during her illness. May I have the wish granted?" - -"I have no objection--while she is ill," he answered, with that singular -proviso attached. - -Then he sat down, and took up his work. At noon he asked John to lunch -with him. John accepted, and lunched. At four p. m. he asked John to -accompany him home for dinner. John accepted, and went. - -The combination of circumstances surrounding John's intimacies with the -Jarney family was very indefinable to him, at first. But, as the days -passed, he was slowly and assuredly convinced that his services as -employe of that man of wealth were not of the sordid kind alone. Mr. -Jarney's condescending manner, his straight-forwardness, his implicit -faith in him, his good will toward him, his extinguishment of form, all -showed to him that he was not so unapproachable as might be believed by -any young man of the qualities of John Winthrope. - -Possessed with an unquenchable desire to do that which is right, -honest, honorable, or justifiable, John pursued a course that ever kept -him in good favor. He did not do this with any preconceived plan, or -scheme, to accomplish a purpose, but it was through an inherent -prepossession of his makeup. Through the days he labored with great -assiduity to get results; through the evenings he studied with great -concentration on his subjects--always busy, always ready to answer a -call, or a summons. All these traits in him, Mr. Jarney was not slow in -perceiving, and he gave encouragement, as he would, like any other man -of his mould, to any one who showed the same relative adaptation and -faithfulness. Mr. Jarney looked upon John as having many parts worth -cultivating. As he had, for a long time, been gleaning in the field of -young manhood for such a reaping, he now considered, since he acquired -John, that he had harvested a good sheaf of wheat when he garnered him; -and he purposed, if all continued straight in him, to flail out his true -worth, if the throwing out of opportunity would be effectually grasped. -But while he had these views concerning such material for his purpose, -he, at no time, thought that his daughter would, in any manner, enter -into the proposition. He would not have thought of compromising his -views on business with his paternal ideas; nor would he ever have -condoned himself, or his wife, should either have entertained an iota of -a notion that it were necessary to bring her name into such mercenary -transactions. - -By reason of the extraordinary events, however, that had come to pass, -anent his daughter, he was perforce compelled to extenuate any -qualifying conducements that might connect her with whomsoever claimed -the privilege of being his second, as John was, in business. His -amiableness toward John during the past few days might be interpreted in -one particularity by the reader; which is, that he was encouraging that -young man to press his suit for his daughter's hand; but this is farther -from the thought than that he would give her away to any young -profligate who might ask the favor of him. He was, withal, a true -father, in its supremest meaning. He loved his daughter. He granted her -every reasonable wish. He even went so far as to make unrelenting -enemies among the Four Hundred, of which he was considered a worthy -member, by discanting and discouraging their form of pleasures for the -young men and women, and looking with disfavor upon the youths who paid -his daughter the least attention. One of his most unpardonable offenses, -in this connection, was his unsparing resentment toward Jasper Cobb's -persistency in wanting to pay court to Edith, with matrimonial intent. -The Cobbs could not, naturally, forgive him for such treatment of their -young hopeful, who was just then strewing his pathway with the wildest -kind of oats. And, as if fortune never failed him, Edith and her mother, -coincided with him. This attitude of theirs, therefore, gave him the -greatest kind of pleasure, and enhanced his inclination to stop at -nothing that would satisfy their claims to his patronage. - -The foregoing statement is made to show what manner of man he was with -his family; but not to excuse him for the manner of man he was with his -business associates. So, in showing favors toward his secretary, he -acted from a double possibility, i. e.: one to have a trustworthy -employe in a very important position; the other to curry favor with a -very lovable daughter, who had an independence that might run wild on a -clear trackage of his own building. - -He had asked John to lunch with him that day mostly to be generous. He -had asked him to his home again mostly for the good that his going might -do for his afflicted child, in her hallucination. Nothing more. He did -these things in such a cheerful way, and in such an unusual manner, that -John was confounded. And he did it without reckoning the consequences, -as many fathers act in the excitable moments of their infinite love for -their offspring. - -Entering the mansion on the hill, on this, his third visit, John had a -very different feeling than before. The interval since he had been there -had been spent in musing and meditating, with the consequent result of -him being hopelessly smitten. No gilded hall of magic palace, no form of -cast or idol of fetich, no conventional rule of wealth or arm of power, -no scornful threat of irate father or scolding mother, no nothing could -desist him in his conquest, if Edith were willing. If not, then he would -forgive her, and--perhaps, perhaps-- - -Edith was sleeping when John was ushered into her room. Star, ever -hopeful, ever faithful, sat by her bedside. Seeing John, Star arose and -advanced to meet him, whispering, as she took his hand: "She is -better--growing better every hour; but very slowly. She now sleeps." - -"Then I shall retire till she awakes," said John. - -"No; remain; she will awake soon," said Star. - -No sound came from the sleeper, so peaceful was her rest, and so low her -breathing. Her hands lay exposed above the spotless covers, with no -nervous tremors in them. The flush of fever of the day before was gone. -Her eyes were closed, and her lips were tightly shut. Her hair lay in -ringlets over her temples. Was she dead? thought John; or was it the -peace of a tired soul in rest that hung upon her? He trembled with great -fear. Those dear blue eyes were closed to the light of day; those rosy -cheeks had faded; the smile was gone. There was nothing to convince him -that she lived. - -Emboldened by the great anxiety that overwhelmed him, he drew up a chair -and sat down by her bed. He picked up one of her hands, and felt her -pulse. He found it throbbing, and he was relieved. He sat there -silently, inconceivably happy, with his own heart throbbing so loudly -that he could hear it beating. Ah, Edith, in her slumbering, might have -heard its telepathic beating, too, for she suddenly opened her eyes, and -turned them upon John, and smiled, so undisturbing was her awakening. -She did not withdraw the hand that John was holding, nor did she seem to -give a sign of recognition. But she sighed. Was it a sigh of her malady, -or a sigh for him? - -"How do you feel this evening, Miss Jarney?" asked John, in a low voice, -deep with sympathetic tenderness. - -Then, she opened wide her eyes, as if surprised, and withdrew her hand. - -"Don't you know me, Miss Jarney?" asked John, with a fearsome thought -that she had declined to her former condition. - -"Is it you, Mr. Winthrope?" she asked, with her eyes lighting up. "Why, -yes; I believed you were the doctor. I am so very weak, Mr. Winthrope, -that I can scarcely speak." - -"Do you feel better?" he asked. - -"A little," she responded, feebly. "How glad it makes me feel to think -you have come." - -"Perhaps it would be better for me not to come while you are so low," he -said. - -"I feel better every time you come," she answered. - -She involuntarily threw her hand over the side of the bed. He took it -up, and held it; and then touched his lips to her small fingers--fingers -so small and delicate and white now that they were like chiseled marble, -pliable in his. She did not resist, through inability mostly to draw it -away, had she been so disposed. She made no pretense to conceal her -fondness for him, nor did she attempt to talk with any design to hurry -him away, when he suggested that she would better rest in absolute -quiet. John saw all this. But he believed that, in her frailty, he -should be very prudent in how he acted, and leave nature, and what -little he could do himself, to restore her to her former mental and -physical health. - -"You will remain awhile longer, Mr. Winthrope? I am growing better," she -said. - -"I hesitate about remaining, Miss Jarney, for fear of disturbing your -peace," he answered. - -"I rest better after seeing you," she whispered, with a trembling voice, -as if she would break into crying. - -"Then I am assured that I may come again?" he asked. - -"You must come often--very often--every day--will you?" - -"If your father continues his permission to that extent?" - -"Oh, he will; papa is so good." - -Is it an hallucination she is laboring under, thought John; or is it the -will of a pure heart, feebly speaking? He was still perplexed; but his -hopes were not deserting him. - -"Mr. Winthrope," she said, after a silent spell, "will you go with Miss -Barton on Sunday to her home, and act for me in what I had planned to do -before I took ill?" - -"Indeed, I shall be glad to accompany her, and shall do anything you -wish," he answered. - -"I had planned to do so much for the poor in Miss Barton's district," -she continued. "I brought her here to be my companion and my aid--such a -good girl she is--but I cannot do anything now, unless you will help. -Will you?" - -"I will, willingly," he responded, wonderingly. - -"When I recover I shall enlist you in my service; we can do so much good -for those distressed people." - -"Nothing would please me better than to help you in this work." - -"Then, you and Miss Barton may begin it now; I shall join you when I -have recovered." - -"That will be a fine combination for charity's sake," he replied, -enthusiastically. - -"I knew you would enter into the scheme. How good you are!" she said, -with a feeble effort to express her gratitude for him in a smile. - -"I am afraid you flatter me, Miss Jarney," he answered, still holding -her trembling hand. - -"Oh, no; papa says you are so good; and I know you are." - -"What time Sunday shall we go, Miss Barton?" asked John, turning to that -young lady, with increasing enthusiasm over his accumulating duties. - -"About ten o'clock, perhaps. You call here at that hour, when the auto -will be in waiting for us," answered Star, sitting by him, with as much -interest in him as Edith had herself. - -"I shall be prompt to the minute," he replied. - -John had remained an hour by Edith's bed talking in very confidential -terms to those two divine maidens--one of them rich, one of them poor, -but both blessed with many heavenly virtues. Edith was growing restless; -although through it all John had been careful of what he said, and how -he said it, so as not to excite her. - -"Are you going?" she asked, seeing him rise. "I am sorry I cannot -withstand the strain longer." - -"I should go," he answered. - -"You will come tomorrow? then I will be better," lifting up her hand to -bid him good bye. - -He knelt down by the bed, and held her hand in both of his for a moment. -How it trembled, and how it thrilled him! - -"Good bye," she said. - -Oh, he prayed, within his heart, that she might be well in that moment -of his own deep affliction, so that the fear that was in him might be -expelled, and he knew his fate. - -"Good bye," she said. - -Going down the stairs he could hear that tremulous little voice saying, -"Good bye." All through the dinner he heard it ringing like the distant -trembulations of a wind-bell; going out the house he heard it calling -after him; all the way to the city he heard it tinkling, tinkling from -everything about the fleeting things in the streets, turning all the -grime and misery into music. Going to his room it kept trembling, -trembling, till that dingy little place was a Paradise. And going -into sleep it kept singing--singing "Good bye! Good b-y-e! -G-o-o-d----b--y--e!" - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - -PETER DIEMAN IS AVENGED. - - -Black and sinister, like The Bastille, rears the bulky rambling building -of that famous institution where infractors of the law are compensated -for their weaknesses. Amidst verdent hills and by the murky river it -sits as a ramparted fortress in a savage land. In sunshine and cloud, in -fog and smoke and grime, it stands brooding, ever silent, ever sullen; -it is a place of the damned, the wonderment of law-abiding men who hap -to pass it by. Beyond the sounds of the teeming river, beyond the noise -of forge and hammer, beyond the regular haunts of men, it is like a -secluded bee-hive, when the workers are all within. No one hears the -hammering, no one hears the sawing, pounding, dinning, breaking, -singing, chanting, praying of all of those therein, save the unambitious -workers themselves. For it is a penal institution. - -Grim-visaged men, with loaded gun, stalk through its ringing halls, -while haunting faces peer out from behind steel bars. The tread of many -feet is hard, in step, on the hardened floors, as the men file to their -places, like trained dogs cringing before their masters; the thump of -many hammers is like a dreadful funeral march for the lost; the chant of -many a tune is heard, in the time of rest, as the only cheerful note -issuing therefrom. And above all is the old familiar human smell. - -In one corner of a cell, on a cot, lies a man. He is bleary-eyed, and -his face is swollen. His feet are bleeding, and his worn-out shoes lie -on the floor. His old blue overalls and check shirt are torn, filthy and -ready to fall from him. He rolls his head from side to side, and beats -his breast with his knotted hands. The spume of an hectic cough hangs -around his mouth, and blood flows out his nostrils. He is Billy -Barton--dying--dying--alone! While the hammers ring, and the men chant, -and the guards pace to and fro; while the clock is ticking for other men -to come and go; while the sun is shining somewhere for the happy, the -good and the bad alike, and all life outside is palpitating with a -vigorous existence, Billy is going upon his final journey. - -He was brought from a nasty jail, where mephitic filth was supreme, to -this place where brutal men are supreme in their cruelty. Emaciated, -gaunt, and made desperate by reason of the abuse heaped upon his crazed -head, he was terrible in his obstinacy of prison rules. He was put to -work with ball and chain tied about his ankles, when lying down on a -feather bed would have been a severe and painful task to him. He was -weak. He could not work, let alone stand. He was faint, sick, heartsore. -But no one saw his misery. No one wanted to see it. For why should they? -He was only a vagabond, and why should he receive attention? - -He was pushed and pounded and thumped and beaten because he could not -work. He was fed on bread and water for his failure; he was -straight-jacketed, hung up by the wrists, given the water-cure; thrown -into the dungeon and flogged. But the brute rises in man, sometimes, -when met by a brute, and Billy struck back. This was the beginning of -his end; for the deputy, being not yet satisfied in the full exercise of -his authority, threw more of his brutishness into display, and laid -Billy low with a cudgel that he carried, and dragged him, like a dog, to -his cell, and threw him on his cot to die--alone! - -An investigation into poor Billy Barton's death by the Honorable Board -of Authorities revealed one of the most peculiar and singular cases that -ever came to their discriminating notice. Billy died of heart failure, -they announced. Of course, every man dies when his heart ceases to beat. -Even those good and upright members of the Honorable Board of -Authorities will die of that disease some day; and no doubt a tombstone -will have all their virtues enscribed upon it. Billy Barton's--will -simply be, William Barton, that's all. - -Who should claim the body? Had he any friends? they punctiliously -inquired. Yes; they found one. A man of worth, too--Peter Dieman, the -humble junkman; Billy's old friend, of course, who would provide a -decent funeral, and see that the last sad rites were said over his -corruptible remains. Yes; Peter Dieman would do all this, being very -generous, and a philanthropic man; for who would impinge his motives? - - * * * * * - -The body was, in the true fiction of such events, conveyed in very -solemn state to that hovel on the south side of the Monongahela river, -near which and within which all of Billy Barton's living time was spent. -All his children were present at the funeral, except that one of -ill-repute who had preceded his father upon the long unknown trail. All -his former friends were present, with one extra added: Peter Dieman. -Another friend was present, in the person of John Winthrope, as the -representative of Edith, who sent the only flowers. - -Had Billy Barton been resurrected the time he lay in his coffin, -supported on two chairs, he would have seen a change in the furnishings -of his earthly home; he would have seen paper on the walls, where once -were the smutchings of discoloring time; he would have seen a carpet on -the floor, pictures on the walls, one of which he would have seen was -Madonna and her child; he would have seen many things that were not -there when he was its besotted, irresponsible master. Ah, he would have -seen his little girls dressed in new frocks, with a simple imitation of -pride in their deportment; and his boys he would have seen, although -still very rude, in a feeble effort to be vain over their new toggery. -He would also have seen his slattern wife in a new dress, with her hair -done up, and a new hope masked behind her stoical face. And he would -have seen that other one, his daughter Star, whom he maltreated all her -sorrowful years, come to offer up to God supplication for his soul; and, -if his spirit had not yet departed, he would have heard her weeping in -her anguish. As he lay in his shroud he would have felt the warm touch -of little hands on his hard face, as the little ones stood about his -bier taking a last farewell look at "Pap" before the man in black had -covered up his face from their view forever; and he would have seen -John, in all the freshness and beauty of young manhood, a consoling -support to his only child that shed a tear. Still more, he would have -seen that exaggerated piece of humanity, Peter Dieman, in all his -implacable hatred for him, sitting in one corner, listening with -exhultation to the droning voice of the minister saying the ritual words -and singing "Rock of Ages." - -Solemnly went the funeral cortege through the crowded thoroughfares -bearing him away; and as the people looked with awe on his passing, -remembering, perhaps, that they would take the same long ride some day, -little did they reck how he lived and how he died. - -To Homewood, a pretty decent place, they bore him, and put him beneath -the ground, with the skeltering winds singing his funeral dirge. Above -his grave Star and John placed a tombstone, with, "Our Father, William -Barton; born Friday, December 13, 1861; died Friday, December 13, 1907," -as the only legend. No virtues had he to be recorded, like those of the -Honorable Board of Authorities. But he was gone--finally gone--out of -the turmoil of this world. - - * * * * * - -Peter Dieman again sat in his little black office in The Die, smoking -his scandalous pipe, rubbing his red hands, and squinting his piggish -eyes; and giving vent occasionally to devlish outbursts of perfect -satisfaction. Nothing consumed his mind so much at present as the -reflection over his victory--his victory over Billy Barton, the -worthless drunkard. - -In his youth Peter went into the contest with Billy for the hand of Kate -Jarney, a cousin of Hiram Jarney. Kate, being young and ignorant, -selected the most prepossessing face, and took up her lot with that -face, and all the horrors that accompanied it. Peter being of a -revengeful nature, took up his life alone, a disappointed man, and -sought to drown his sorrows in the role of Chief Ward Heeler. - -Peter was not such a bad man in his younger days, but remorse over his -unrequitted love drove him to diabolical things. Hence his attitude -toward all mankind. For twenty years, almost, he was cross, crabbed and -oppressive; and the wonder is how he maintained his power in his -invidious treatment of his henchmen and his superiors. But this may be -explained by his one saving grace of knowing how to string the "ropes" -for the system--Graft--without breaking any of them, and screening the -arch conspirators; for which he was amply rewarded. For twenty years, -almost, he lived like a bear, spending his days in his black shop, and -his nights in a shabby room above, like a miser--always with an -irreconcilable fury burning beneath his hairy breast. For twenty years, -almost, he brooded while he amassed a fortune, which gave him but the -one comfort that the "some day" might bring. And his day had come at -last. - -Thus, as he sat in his office smoking and rubbing, the old light came -back to him; and he was not slow to act. Leaving the shop in the care of -the new clerk (Eli Jerey being yet indisposed) he went out. Finding a -purveyor of "houses for sale," he traveled the circuitous rounds with -that individual in search of a satisfying heap of stone and mortar. -Selecting one of approved style and with the requisite number of rooms, -in the rich men's district of the East End, he purchased. Then, fitting -it up with all the dazzle that money could buy, he installed therein the -entire Barton family, with one exception, of course; and ere the month -was out, so little was his compunction as to propriety, he made the -withered love of his youth his wife. And the gods caused him to smile, -at last. - -So affecting was this piece of news on Eli Jerey's mind that he -forthwith began to arouse himself from his convalescing lethargy; and by -another fortnight was down at his old post, with the same cadavorous -look in his face, and the same slavish notions in his head. Since Peter -had left his office: which he did immediately after his marriage: that -little black hole stood silent, smokeless, with the accumulated filth of -years still clinging to it. The little peephole was there, now with no -wolfish eyes behind to peer through it, but still a source of much -anxiety to Eli, who, so strong was the force of habit in him, even after -he knew his master was gone, looked suspiciously at it ever and anon, as -if it itself would turn into green eyes and knock him down by their -stare, as those without the secret password had often done before. -Otherwise, Eli had peace of soul, since that irritable old curmudgeon -had surprised him into getting well. - -Being faithful to his trust, he could not do different than he did; and -it is well for him. For after Peter had returned from his long-delayed -honeymoon, he came to the office only as a visitor. So magnanimous was -he now, in his rejuvenated character, that he turned the junk shop and -all his business over to Eli, to be managed as he willed. But this -change in proprietorship in nowise took from the place the name it had -acquired, nor from it the honor of being the repository of all the -secrets of the System built up around it, with no apparent connection. -So, instead of Peter being in his den, curled up like a stoat, he -delegated, after awhile, to Eli the perfunctory duties of receiving and -transmitting messages between himself and the henchmen, with Eli -ensconced in the black office. - -One day after taking up his incumbency therein, Eli received a call from -Welty Morne. - -"Where is Peter?" asked Welty, as he softly entered the sacred precinct -of The Die, unawares to Eli. - -Remembering his encounter with that young gentleman, Eli bustled up like -a porcupine on the approach of an enemy, forgetting that he was to let -by-gone be by-gones, and serve his master in a new role. - -"Gone," answered Eli, boldly; "I'm boss here. What will you have?" - -"Where's he gone?" asked Welty, a little ruffled. - -"He's quit these quarters for good," answered Eli. - -"Wonder he wouldn't let a fellow know such things," said Welty. - -"I'm his messenger; what can I do for you?" - -"You! I hope not to that extent!" - -"Yes; me--to that extent," retorted Eli. - -"Well;" and Welty studied a few moments; then continued: "Convey to him -that Monroe wants to get in communication with him at once." - -"I will do it," responded Eli. - -Whereat, Eli descended into the darkness of his private phone booth, -remained a few minutes, and returned, with the information that Peter -would see him that evening at eight o'clock at the "Bartonage," as he -called his new residence. - -"Very well," said Welty, leaving in a sulky temper. - -At the hour of eight p. m., Peter was sitting at his home in all his -pomp and grandeur, when the starched smile of Monroe irradially floated -in upon his complacency in an hitherto unknown expansiveness. - -"You old tout," said Monroe feelingly; "you surprise us all by your new -stunt." - -When Peter laughed, which he did now sometimes, he was the picture of a -crying calf, if the simile is permissible; so when he broke his face -into one of his cunning signs of mirth, Monroe could not but help -feeling amused himself, and accordingly split his barren face up into -waves of noncommittal wrinkles. - -"Ho, ho, ha, ha," cried Peter, forgetting now to rub his hands, and -instead slapped his fat hand on his fat leg; "you old batches will have -to fall in line. Look! and see how glorious it all is, Monroe; and to -think that I have missed it all these twenty years! Ho, ho, ha, ha, he, -he; you ought to try it, Monroe, and get those crimps out of your face!" -Peter laughed at this jolly till tears ran down his cheeks. - -"Why, I should think you were happy, Peter, the way you are going on -about it," said Monroe, gloomily. - -"Yes; try it, Monroe; you can get some one; can't you?" said Peter, with -an extra bang on his fat leg as an extra emphasis to his seriousness. - -"I've never met my Fate--that is, no Fate that would care to take me," -he remarked, with the smile gone. - -"How about Jarney's girl?" asked Peter, in a confidential tone. - -"That young chap, Winthrope, seems to have the way to her door all to -himself," responded the gloomy one. - -"Who did you say?" - -"Winthrope." - -"I told you to get him out of the way." - -"Well?" - -"Well?" - -"He can't be got out so easy," cried Monroe, with asperity. "He's an -immovable, unapproachable, indefinable young cuss, who can't be -inveigled." - -"Have you given it up?" - -"Oh, not yet." - -"What you leading up to now?" asked Peter. - -"To have the boss send him to the New York office." - -"Will he send him?" - -"He may." - -"Say," said Peter, whisperingly, with an idea, "get him in the bribing -line, and then let him drop." - -"He's beyond that," said the undaunted Monroe. "We are going to send him -to New York; give him authority to handle money, and lay our net to -catch him. This can be done. We will work it so slick, with Bate Yenger -as his assistant, that he can't crawl out; and we'll keep the money for -our trouble." - -"Good!" said Peter, forgetting himself and rubbing this time. "Go on?" - -"That's all." - -"Humph;" ejaculated Peter. "You are a genuine dough-god!" - -"You bear!" scowled Monroe--that is, he tried to scowl. - -"You unplastic scoundrel," shouted Peter, turning on him, "if you don't -get him out of the way, and get that girl, I'll get your job away from -you!" - -"Oh, no more of your jollying," said the putty-faced Monroe; "get down -to business. How much do I get out of the swag I get with the girl?" - -"Half," replied Peter. - -"Well, it's worth trying for," said Monroe. - -"Say, by the by, Monroe; I received this today from Europe. Read it," -said Peter, handing Monroe a letter, which had the following P. S. at -the end: "I have lost fifteen at Monte Carlo; send ten, or I will return -at once. (Signed) J. D." - -"Does he mean fifteen thousand and ten thousand?" asked Monroe. - -"He does." - -"What will you do?" - -"Send for Jacob Cobb." - -"What will he do?" - -"Furnish the money, of course." - -"Jim Dalls is bleeding you for all the game is worth," said Monroe. - -"We can do nothing else till we cease bleeding other people." - -"You are plain about it, Peter." - -"I am always plain, Monroe." - -"Have you seen Cobb lately?" asked Monroe. - -"Yesterday." - -"How're things coming?" - -"They're coming for the present," answered Peter. "Don't you think I -need them coming to keep up this establishment when I am fully in the -swim?" - -"You probably do, Peter. I will run opposition to you when I get what's -coming to me." - -"Be sure you don't get into the Pen, Monroe," said Peter, looking up -sidewise at Monroe, with a strange meaning in his eyes. - -"And you?" asked Monroe. - -"Oh, they can't get me; too much pull with the--" - -Just then a howling brat, in silks and satins, came tearing into the -room, riding a brass curtain pole as his "horse." On seeing a stranger, -the youngster promptly made a flail out of the said curtain pole, and -began to belabor Peter over the head with such effectiveness that Peter -caught the child by the seat of his breeches, and hurled him blubbering -into a corner. - -"I thought you enjoyed your new existence," humorously remarked the -staid Monroe. - -"I do," answered the angered Peter, with a "humph." - -"Well, if that is an example of what married life is, I don't think I -want any of it in mine," said Monroe, with some dejection in the curl of -his lips. - -"Don't be so easily discouraged, Monroe; I've got ten like that one, on -whom I spend my time in reforming." - -"Oh, Lordy!" exclaimed the placid Monroe. - -"Yes; it is Lordy sometimes, you would think, if you were here when they -are all in." - -"Why, I'd soon be in an asylum," said Monroe, despairingly. - -"Say, Monroe, I've put Eli Jerey in my office," said Peter, changing the -subject. - -"He deserves promotion, no doubt; can he be trusted?" - -"None more so; that's why I put him there. I'll give him the store when -we pull off the next big deal." - -"Will she go through?" asked Monroe. - -"She will." - -"How much?" - -"One hundred thousand; then I'll quit." - -"And we poor devils will have to take the crumbs," said the disheartened -Monroe. - -"Every one is paid according to his services," said Peter, in reply. -"Get Winthrope out of the way, get the girl, and you'll have yours." - -Monroe departed, feeling better. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - -WHILE THE FATHER WORRIES, MONROE SCHEMES AND CELEBRATES. - - -"Mr. Winthrope," said Mr. Jarney, abstractedly, pacing his office floor, -with his hands behind his back, and his head bowed in commiseration, "my -daughter is getting no better--no better." - -John made no reply, feeling that no reply should be made at that time, -while the father was worrying so; for in that same moment he was moved -himself beyond the efficacy of a consoling word. The garish light of the -burning incandescents, in that late afternoon, was tantalizing and -unbearable. The pictures on the wall stared down like taunting ghosts; -the green-hued carpet and the reflect glimmer of the polished furniture -seemed to reproach them for any sense of alleviation either might feel. -The busy sound, the clamor, the roar and rumble of the streets was a -hideous nightmare dinning in their ears. The heavy pall of smoke that -heaved and rolled over the house-tops, infiltrating in its aqueous -touch, was a magnet of melancholy. - -Mr. Jarney stood by the window and looked out upon the flat-roofed -buildings sitting below. He wondered if all the life therein and -thereabout was so torn with dread expectation as his own; or whether any -of them thought of life at all; or of the past, or of the present, or of -the future. All his years he had had no inflictions, no sorrows, no -troubles to set his latent sentimentality into ebullition. He had gone -through the mill of business always prospering, always successful, -always a leader, without a counteractive element to his iron will. He -had gone through his wedded period with a love for his wife, his child -and his home, that was unsurpassable, believing that no untoward thing -could ever happen to disturb the tranquility of his perfect life. He -believed that God had blessed him in this respect alone, to the -exclusion of other men. But now the blasting hand of Fate, he felt, was -turned upon him; and he had no peace while his child lay ill near unto -death. - -Back and forth he walked his office floor, in his anguish, fretfully -silent, and deeply feeling for every one who might have a similar -burden to bear. Coming to a stop by John's chair, he gazed down at his -secretary, with a fixedness that caused John to have pity for his -master. - -"Mr. Winthrope," he said, "if she dies, my grief will be irreconcilable. -The doctors say there is no hope." - -"No hope?" faltered John. - -"No hope," and the father sat down and cried. - -Tears of sympathy came into John's eyes. Under the trying situation, he -could not control his emotions. The breaking down of that strong man was -more than he could stand, and he arose and walked across the room to a -window, where he stopped for some time looking out, contending with his -own passion. Then he returned to his chair, where he stood in an -undecided frame of mind as to what to say. - -"Mr. Jarney, you have my full sympathy," he said, about as expressive as -he could say it, without unburdening his own heart's secret. - -"Mr. Winthrope," he replied, turning to John, "it may seem weak in me -giving way so easily; but you do not know, you cannot know what a father -suffers in such extremities--no man can know, if he has a heart, unless -he goes through it as I have these past few weeks. With all my worldly -ambitions, I have willingly permitted my whole being to be infolded by -her being, till no other thought so dominated me. She was such a lovable -child, so good, so kind, so generous, so unlike any one else I ever saw, -that my fatherly soul rebelled at the thought that anything would ever -happen to tarnish her name, or that of my own. Of these things I was -very careful that they did not come to pass. I have brought her up and -educated her, with the one purpose, that she would be my one consolation -in my declining years. And I intend, if she lives, that all I have shall -be hers; and I know that she will give no cause for me to ever regret, -like so many of the daughters of the rich do. I am rich, Mr. Winthrope, -very rich; but I will give all I have, if that would save her for me, -and would face the world anew without a dollar. Oh, you do not -know--nobody can know what my anguish is!" - -"Mr. Jarney, I realize what it might be," said John. - -"I had hopes that when she came out of the trance the first time the -crisis had passed," he went on. "She did improve for a few days; but -suddenly she took a relapse and began to weaken, and weaken day by day, -and now I fear for the worst. She is of my own flesh and blood--oh, God, -I cannot bear it--yes--I must bear it. But in bearing it, what have I as -a compensation? Money is nothing; home is nothing; life is nothing, -without some one like her depending on you. A child might be ever so -bad, but still a parent's love goes out to it, in all its misfortunes -and shortcomings. But to have a child like her is not given to every -man, and the parent of such a child should be doubly blessed. I know -that I am selfish in these views. I know that other parents will differ -with me in what I say as to my child being the best; but no one can say -that I am wrong did they but know her. I do not know what I shall do, if -she is taken from me--I do not know. I am already losing interest in -things." - -"Mr. Jarney," said John, after he had ceased, "I hope the doctors' -conclusions are wrong, and that your expectations will not come to pass. -I believe that she will recover; I have believed it all through her -trial; but I may be mistaken." - -"I hope you are not mistaken, Mr. Winthrope," he replied. "I hope I am. -I have never hoped before that I might be mistaken, and I hope I shall -not be disappointed this time." - -Mr. Jarney then took up his accumulation of letters, that had not been -attended to for three days, and began dictating answers. He was so -overcome by anxiety, dread and fear, that he had great difficulty in -composing himself sufficiently to go through them all. Some he answered -with a line, where a whole page would have been necessary before. Many -he did not answer at all, being indifferent as to what became of them. -He was nervous, agitated, and careless. After he had finished, although -not very satisfactorily to John, who had been used to his methodical -handling of his correspondence, and after John began to prepare to -depart, he turned to him and said: - -"Mr. Winthrope, I am thinking of promoting you; would you like to go to -New York?" - -"I should not care to leave you, Mr. Jarney, so agreeable have my -connections been in this office; but if you desire me to make a change, -and if I am capable, I shall go wherever I am sent," said John. - -"An assistant treasurer is wanted for the New York office; how would you -like that?" - -"Well, Mr. Jarney, this comes as a greater surprise than when you gave -me this position; but, however, I shall accept, if it is the wish of my -superiors." - -"They want a man immediately for the place; but--I do not want to see -you go away yet, though I want to see you get the place. You are -capable, and deserving of it." - -"I would rather remain here; but if I am to go higher, I suppose I -should go at once to wherever I am to go." - -"Another thing, Mr. Winthrope; you should not go while my daughter -continues ill. Or--or--No, you shall remain here till she recovers. Some -one else can fill the place till that time comes. It may seem strange -for me to say so, her recovery may depend upon you remaining. It is only -an hallucination of her mind, I know; but if her seeing you will do any -good, I shall not forget it." - -"Do you believe it is an hallucination?" asked John. - -"Can be nothing else," he replied, gravely and reflectively. "You were -the last one whom she saw and talked with while in her rational mind. -The doctors say this is invariably true in all such cases--the -impression of that person is indelibly left on the mind of the one -afflicted, and remains there till recovery." - -"But Miss Barton was there also," returned John, in disputation of his -theory. - -"That is true; but Miss Barton is with her all the time," he replied, as -an argumentative fact. - -"It may be," said John, in a deeper quandary than ever. "Then I am to -remain here?" - -"Yes--till her recovery, or--Be ready to go home with me an hour later -today--five o'clock," said Mr. Jarney, as John left him. - -In the meantime, while the confidential conversation was going on -between master and secretary, Miram Monroe sat in his office scheming -against his employer, against the secretary, and against the sick young -woman, whose knowledge of things worldly was now a blank. It is always -true of men of limited ability that they aim far above the possible. -Monroe, with his microscopic smile this day stretched almost into a -cynical grin, so satisfied was he with his genius, was perusing page -after page of complicated figures. He was doing this mechanically, -though, or otherwise he could not have O K'd them, being as he was in -such a ruminating turn, with his mind set on other things so much dearer -to his undefiling heart. Who was possessed with his special inborn -faculty, qualifying him for his employment? Who had such a special -disposition to accomplish what he purposed? Who had such a presiding -genius for good or evil over the destiny of other men? Why, Miram -Monroe--Mr. Monroe, if you please. He rang a bell. Welty Morne stepped -within, and closed the door behind him, meeting his superior with a -superior smile to that of the rigid face. - -"Welty," said Monroe, with the solemnity of a gray goose, "I have seen -the boss of the Board of Directors." - -"Well?" - -"They have decided, he tells me, to create the office of assistant -treasurer in the New York branch." - -"No!" - -"Yes," without a crow's foot. - -"Good, old boy; we must celebrate it tonight," said Welty, in a whisper. - -"And the young chap goes." - -"No!" - -"Yes," without a wrinkle. - -"We must celebrate that tomorrow night--When?" - -"At once," without a crack. - -"Bully! We must celebrate that the next night--Who?" - -"You," without a wink. - -"No!" - -"Yes," without a twinkle. - -"Whee! We'll celebrate that the next night--Where?" - -"At the Bottomless Pit," with a microscopic smile. "Be at my room at -nine p. m." - -"With joy, old boy; I'll be with you! Hah, you're no two-spot!" With -this Welty expired, almost, over his good feelings that his promotion -brought over him. - -The bell rang again. In came Bate Yenger, with a crimped smile on his -stale face. - -"Bate, do you want Welty's place?" asked the marble idol. - -"Want it?" exclaimed the idolizing Bate. "Can I get it? or are you -buffooning?" - -"You have it, Bate," without a twitch. - -"When?" asked the anxious Bate. - -"Soon," without a quiver. - -"Shall we celebrate?" asked Bate. - -"We will," with a smack. - -"Where?" - -"At the Bottomless Pit," with a feathered smile. "Be at my room at nine -p. m." - -"Bully!" With this Bate also expired--with joy over his air castles. - -Accordingly, at nine p. m., the trio met in rooms Nos. 4-11-44 in the -St. Charles hotel, a hostelry of good repute where men of disrepute -would sometimes get through the cordon of morality that was strung -around it. Monroe had a suite of three rooms, as became a man of -quality, as he was, with no disparagement of the "quality." These -quarters were furnished, of course, in such magnificence that contrast -between the riches of the room and the nature of the man was like the -temperate and the frigid zones. His bed room was in white enamel, with -cream-colored carpet, a frail white iron bed-stead, with dainty white -materials on it. Why the combination? It was that he, when he donned his -white night gown, imagined he would be in a little heaven of his own, -during his nocturnal sojournings into Dreamland--the only heaven he ever -would be enabled to approach, perhaps. He had a lounging room fitted up -in gray, in which he lounged during his hours of rest, and in which he -received his friends. The other room he called the Bottomless Pit--not -that it was bottomless, nor that it was a pit, in the strict sense, but -that here was where he refreshed himself and entertained. It was done in -dark-brown, probably in commemoration of that old jest, "dark-brown -taste the morning after." - -Welty and Bate had been there before, so they needed no formal reception -to cause them to make themselves at home. So repairing to the Pit, a -spread was in waiting. The bill-of-fare (ach, god in himmel, it should -be menu) was mushrooms on toast, frogs' legs in butter, calves' brains -in cracker meal, squabs in stew, oysters in whisky, rolls in brown, -butter in squares, sugar in cubes, coffee in percolator, pickles in -acetics, cheese in limburger, nuts in hull, desserts in bottle, and -cigars in box. All this in honor of Monroe's erudition as a manipulator -of things clandestine in his attempt at circumvention of a certain -favored young man. - -When they sat down at the table, which was just big enough for three to -hear each other across with loud talk, with the load of savory things in -china, garnished by genuine sterling, upon it, they were all very -hungry, and besides very thirsty. - -"Gentlemen," said the stiffness, rising, without a break in his metallic -visage, the others rising with him, "gentlemen, a toast to the lady; may -the good Lord preserve her." - -"The lady! the lady!" cried the two Monroe dupes in unison. - -"And to Welty and Bate; may they ever prosper in their new jobs," he -continued. "Hah, too conscientiously modest to toast yourselves, are -you?--take water, you kids." This last remark was made by him when he -saw that Welty and Bate hesitated about toasting themselves. However, -they toasted. - -Thus they toasted, and they gabbled, and they ate, till all the viands -had vanished, and nothing was left upon the board but the smeared -platters. Then to the bottles they betook themselves with a wild and -merry gusto. Monroe pulled the corks, and poured. He drank, and they -drank. He smoked, and they smoked, till the air was a blue haze of -whirling objects, only to be dispelled by the dark-brown in the morning. - -Once, during a fit of eructation, Monroe thought he would surely die, -and got ready to make his will. - -"Write it out, Welty," he commanded, in a severe maudlin tone; "and -write it out so that She shall get it all, with a codicil that you and -Bate are to get one-third of what is left, after I am gone. Whoop! Woe -me! Woe me!" he wailed, with his face like that of a gargoyle. "Write it -out before I die," he said, as he went staggering against a wall, -falling over a chair, crushing down a rocker, flailing his hands like -bat's wings, as he retched and perambulated through the Pit. - -"Give me a pen first, and paper; I can't write (hic) with my fingers -like a chink," said the hysterical Welty--hysterical in mirth only over -the wild effusions of Monroe. - -"I'll write it; I'll write it, if I have to use my toes, if you get me -the ink, or tar, or something else that is black--only get it; get it!" -weeped the disconsolate Bate, who at that moment had a fearsome feeling -that his friend Monroe would die before the act was done, lolling his -head the while over the back of his chair, as if that part of his -anatomy was too loose ever to be set back to its normality. - -At this outburst of Bate, Monroe plunged forward through the door of the -Pit to the gray room, and to his secretary, from which he withdrew -everything before he found the ink, the pen and the paper. Returning -with these articles, Welty wrote the will in such hiroglyphic -chirography that a Greely himself could not make it out. But it was -writ, and signed, and sealed in due form. Welty in his hilarity did not -lose sight of its import, and put it away in a secret pocket, for future -use should the occasion ever demand it. - -He then shouldered Monroe into his downy bed, in full dress, with "Woe -me! Woe me!" escaping in a groan from his unsmiling lips. Then Welty -took the inebriated Bate, in the completeness of debauch, and rolled -him, shoes and all, into that otherwise spotless couch. Then, before he -should completely lose the balance of his own muddled reason, he also -tumbled into Monroe's heaven, leaving the dark-brown room to clarify -itself of their revelings. - -And amid the stillness of the lights, all left burning brightly, they -went sailing into the land of ethereal asphyxia, to await the hour of -the "dark-brown taste" to bring them back to the time of remorse, and -its painful complications. - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - -WHAT THE SPRINGTIME BROUGHT FORTH. - - -Christmas had come and gone; New Years was here, and passing, and Edith -still lay upon her bed. Her face was thin and wan and spiritless. Her -form had wasted away till she was almost as a skeleton. Her little hands -were fleshless and cold, and her eyes were dull. The malady was in her -brain yet, refusing to lift its anchorage, although she saw and -recognized everybody permitted in her sight. - -John came and went every day, in the late afternoons; and every day he -came with the same perplexed feelings. The "good byes" rang in his ears, -growing weaker and weaker in their timbreling, from morning unto -night--following him everywhere, till he was near crazed himself, in his -helplessness, for the sweet one that breathed the "good byes" in his -ears. He went up and down and in and out the pathways of his small -world, and got no comfort in anything, save what consolation there was -in his work, which was meagre now in the sadness of his love-making. - -As he would sit by the bed holding her hand in his, tears would roll -down his cheeks. She would lie so still, so beautifully transcendent in -her weakness, looking at him, and speak so low and so trembling that he -could scarce make out her words. Oftentimes he would kneel down and pray -for her deliverance from the scourge that lay upon her. Sometimes the -sun would break through the clouds and smoke, in its setting, and throw -its transient rays upon her face, and he would take it as a good omen; -but most often the days were dark, and the light was sombre, like his -spirits. Sometimes he would sit by the window, while she slept, watching -the snow driving by in its purity, and his mind would revert to the -sleeper, whose purity was whiter than the snow. Day after day, he would -come full of hope, and depart full of fear; for she was growing worse; -and all the inmates of that mansion were in despair. Would she die -before she waked? they all would question in their looks, looking at her -in her sleep. Would she ever reach the crisis again that once before had -given joy? or would she linger on, and finally pass away, without a -murmur, like a child? - -No one could tell--no one could tell! Still she lingered on, bravely -refusing to give up her fluttering spirit. - -Sometimes she would brighten up, and talk with Star on her only -theme--John--and then relapse into comatose. Often she would ask for -him, when he was away, as if he were gone forever, and when he would -come would only look, with a faint smile of satisfaction in her face. -Sometimes she would raise her hand, and lay it on his, as if she wished -to express her love, but could not. "I am so weak--so weak," was her -constant plaint, as if weary of the fight she was making. Whenever John -was ready to depart, she roused herself to the saying of "Good bye, good -bye," and then sleep. - -O, what are the pains one must endure, in this life, to keep it going! - -Through the days and through the weeks this continued, without an -indication that there was any chance. Through the weeks and through the -months, the Reaper, with his Scythe, sat outside her chamber -door--waiting, waiting; and the angels appeared to hover over -her--waiting, waiting--to transport her to their own abode, where she -seemed more fittingly to belong. - -But he, nor they, never entered that chamber door. For the coming of the -birds and the budding of the trees was the magic cure. Her eyes opened -up, like a startled violet, in the springtime, as if she had slept, like -the violet, through the winter season. The wild rose lodged its colors -in her cheeks, after playing with the April winds, and the spirit of the -new life overwhelmed her. The little skeleton that she had been for -months was transformed into a vitalized being. As she once was, she was -again, only more lovely, with the effects of a lingering illness still -in its subduing tones. - -Sitting by the window, when the birds were singing in the park about her -home, she was dreaming of the new world that was opened to her view. It -was not the singing birds alone, nor the budding trees, nor the greening -grass, nor the blooming cowslips or jonquils that she saw outside -rejoicing at the turn of the season, that made her heart rejoice; -neither was it returning health alone that brought the glint of the -diamond in her eyes, the pulsing flush upon her cheeks, the happier -smile to her lips, the sweeter tone to her voice. It was--it was--it was -that Love that lights the Soul, and causes even smoke and grime to be -dancing gems and pearls. - -Sitting by the window, she was dreaming of him, who had gone, and who -had said he would return--some day--some day. Oh, that some day is what -makes the heart so sore, at the parting; for it is an indefinite time of -chance, but still a solace to the craving heart. Edith was dreaming of -the last words that John had said before he went away, "May I come to -see you some day, now that you are getting well." They kept ringing in -her ears as a pleading hope, as "good bye, good bye," still was ringing -in his. She was thinking of what she had said, as he was going, "You may -come, you may come--yes--yes, you may come," as she still was lying on -her bed. And now, in this time of her day-dreaming, she hoped that he -had not gone. In dreaming back over the oblivious days, she remembered -faintly that he came to her somewhere. Was it in this world that she saw -him all the time? or had it been in some other that she saw him? or was -it a mere illusion, after all? and he had come at last only to say -farewell, as a duty. No; she saw him every day through the long silence -of her sleep. It was he; it must have been; and did he know, or think, -or believe, that she loved him? He must have known it, she kept -dreaming, if that were he that she saw every day. And would he return to -meet her love in that Some Day. He would, she kept dreaming; he would. - -Sitting by the window, on this the first day of her convalescing period, -she saw the smoke and fog roll by; she saw the sun warming everything -into life, as the time was stirring her into a loving being again. Star -was sitting by her side holding one hand in hers, with faith and hope in -her own dear heart. - -"You are getting well so fast, dear Edith," said Star, patting her -delicate hand. - -"I feel new all over, dear Star," said Edith, smiling down upon her -dearest friend. "Everything is so bright and so charming outside today, -it seems it was made just for me in my recovery. How I wish I could go -out upon the lawn and pluck the flowers, and listen to the birds, and -even sing myself." - -"You may go some day, dear Edith; you may go, and I will be the first to -go and lead you the way," replied the constant Star. - -"Oh, Star! that some day, some day, always keeps ringing in my ears--I -hope it will come," said Edith, with a tear of regret coming down her -brightening cheek. - -"Do not be despondent, dear," said Star, brushing away Edith's tears. - -"I am not despondent, dear," said Edith; "I am happy." - -"I thought tears were shed in sorrow, Edith," responded Star, in her -innocence. - -"I have had no sorrow, dear. My life has been one of happiness; and when -I am most happy, I shed tears, sometimes," said Edith. - -"Oh, Edith, I know," said Star, with a mischievous look. - -"Does he know?" asked Edith, putting her arm around the neck of her -friend. - -"He must know," answered Star, seriously. - -"Tell me all about it, Star--all?" said Edith. - -"Since you first took ill?" asked Star. - -"Everything--I want to know," said Edith. - -"My, Edith! he did so many things, that it might make you blush, did I -tell you," said Star, laughing. - -"Why! what did he do?" asked Edith, with an inkling that she had not -been dreaming all the time. - -"Do? Why, Edith! the first thing he did, was to put his arm around you -in the cab coming home that night," began Star. - -"Why, my faithful Star! Did you permit him to do that?" asked Edith, -appearing to be repellent in her tone. - -"He couldn't help it, dear; you was as limp as a rag, and he had to hold -you up. When we got home, he picked you up, and carried you into this -very room, and laid you on your bed." - -"My! oh, my, Star! he didn't do that, did he?" exclaimed Edith. "How -dreadful!" - -"It couldn't be helped," replied the sympathetic Star, as her only -explanation. - -"Now, I am real mad at you, Star, for permitting such a thing. I would -have been real mad at him, too--I would not have permitted it, had I -been in my senses," said Edith, affecting anger. - -"That is the reason he did it, Edith; you couldn't help yourself; you -were not in your senses," said the compromising Star. - -"Go on, Star," said Edith, seeing that Star was hesitating about telling -her more. - -"You called for him every day for a week, Edith, till--" - -"--I am a little goose, Star; I always knew I was; now I know it. Did he -come?" - -"He came; and brought you back to your senses, dear." - -"I do now remember seeing him somewhere--sometime--I can't think, -Star--where it was--what else?" said Edith, growing nervous. - -"He came every day, Edith--every day, after that, and sat by your bed -for an hour, and held your hand--" - -"--now I know I am a goose for allowing such conduct--no, I am not mad, -Star. Did he do that?" - -"--and he knelt down and prayed for you, every day, almost, Edith." - -"God bless him!" said Edith, as the tears came to her eyes. - -"--and you talked to him, Edith, sometimes, and always asked him to come -again--" - -"--I must have been out of my head." - -"Don't you remember it, Edith--any of it, at all?" - -"I have a faint recollection of something, which I cannot clearly make -out--I know--I know, Star. It has possessed me ever since I saw him--I -am not provoked at anything he did, Star." - -"But, Edith; Edith, listen," said Star, in an admonishing tone; "he came -as a matter of duty, believing it was an hallucination of yours." - -"He will forgive me, then," returned Edith, with calm resignation, "if I -did or said anything unbecoming a lady, who--who--oh, Star, I cannot -believe that I did anything wrong, do you? If he never knows, I will -keep my secret, and you will help me in my troubled heart, will you not, -dear?" - -"He loves you, Edith." - -"Dear Star," said Edith, as she threw both arms around her friend's -neck; "does he? Does he? Are you sure?" - -"I am sure, Edith," said Star, kissing Edith. "He told me as much." - -"That was not kind in him; he should tell me first," said Edith, -pensively. - -"But he told me not to tell," replied Star, regretfully; "and he said he -never expected to claim your hand--" - -"Why? My riches will not be in the way," she said, as she began to cry. - -"That is why, Edith," said Star, consolingly. "He said he could not hope -to meet you on the same level--" - -"Money!" exclaimed Edith. - -"Money," replied Star, very low; "he hasn't any." - -"That is why I love him, Star; and because he is better than any man I -have ever seen, except, perhaps, my father. This is one of the greatest -troubles the daughters of the rich have--the finding of a good young man -among them; and the good young men who are poor are too self-conscious -to seek us." - -"But he has asked to come again, Edith," said Star, hopefully. - -"Some day--some day," sighed Edith, looking out the window. Then: "I -wish I had never seen--no, no; that is not what I mean. Had I never seen -him, I would not have this pain, the pain of uncertainty, in my heart. -Awhile ago I was very happy; but now I feel like lying down in the bed -again, and remaining there till--oh, I wish he would come, and I--no, I -could not do that; he must find it out, if he is ever to know. I will -get well first, Star, and then we will take up the work, Star, I had -planned before I became ill; and work to do some good in the world. I am -feeling very weak, Star. This has been too much for me; will you assist -me to my bed. Oh, Star, I am sorry--sorry for it all. You do not know, -dear Star. You will not know till some good man comes along and strikes -a responsive chord in your heart--you will not know, Star, till then. -Help me to bed, and let me rest." - -Sitting by her bedside, Star heard, for the first time, the story that -Edith promised to tell her that day when she first came into Edith's -life. After lying down, Edith was more calm, and was still in the mood -to continue her confidential talk with Star. - -"Star, do you know that you are my cousin?" asked Edith. - -"Cousin!" exclaimed Star, as if she did not understand. - -"Yes, Star; cousin! Your mother is a first cousin to my father; but I -never knew it till about the time I sent for you." - -Star leant over and kissed Edith, and drew her face up till their cheeks -touched. - -"Edith," whispered Star, "you are an angel," and then released her, and -assumed a kneeling position, while Edith continued: - -"I saw you one day, Star, when I was with my father on a mission of -mercy in the poor districts of the South Side. When first I saw you, you -were on your knees scrubbing the floor--at that place where you worked. -I saw your face, and fell in love with you as soon as I saw you, for I -knew that you were good. I told papa that it was a pity for a beautiful -girl like you to be doing that kind of drudgery, when he said that we -could, perhaps, get you a better place. We asked you your name, if you -remember--" - -"I remember," said Star. - -"--and when you said it was Star Barton, papa gave such a turn to his -countenance that I thought it meant something that he had concealed from -us at home. So when we came home I asked him what he meant, and he told -me then who you were; and he told me who your father and mother were; -and how they, when young, ran away from home and were married. I sent my -maid, Sarah Devore, to search you out, telling her who you were, and -have you come to this place in search of a position as a domestic, for -fear that if I told you the truth you would be too proud to work for -your rich relations. You came, as you know how, and when I saw you -again, I fell in love with you. First, I wanted you to be my maid; but -my pride of you was too great to make you anything but my equal in this -house. So you see, instead of being my maid, you have been my faithful -companion--and nurse. Dear Star, I love you, and if you will always -remain with me, I shall be the happiest person on earth." - -"Dear Edith," said Star, with tears of gratitude in her eyes, "I knew -you were good when first I beheld you; but I never knew that such -goodness could be in any kinsman of mine. I never told you of the life I -lived; I never told you how we lived at home; I never told you of my -father or my mother. For it always gave me grief to think of it. Poor -father is dead!" - -"Dead!" said Edith. - -"Yes; died last December; and my mother has married Peter Dieman, who -courted her--" - -"Dieman!" - -"Yes; the junkman. They live in one of the finest places in the East -End. I am sorry, very sorry, that my father died, as he was the only -father I shall ever know; but I am glad that my mother has married -again. When you get well, I shall take you out to see her, and you can -see how she now lives. I never was ashamed of my parents, Edith, never. -I did all I could for them, in my simple way, and would do it again, if -called upon to do it. After you took ill, I carried out your wish, and, -with Mr. Winthrope, went to our home and fitted it out decently for my -mother and the children. My mother was always sad and brooded over her -troubles, and had no heart for anything. Poor mother! I am glad that she -has married again." - -Star cried in remembrance of it all; for her heart was good. Even dear -Edith could not help but shed a tear. And they sobbed on each other's -breast over sorrows that had passed. - -Then, brushing away their tears, and laughing over their -tender-heartedness, they resumed their talk. - -"Edith," said Star, "I must confess that I marveled at your actions. I -could not resist you, though. I cannot see how anybody can. It seemed -strange to me that any one so good and rich as you should light upon me, -and make me your companion. Yes, I marveled at it. Now, I know it is not -strange. I love you, dear Edith, and shall never leave you, unless--" - -"Unless what?" asked Edith, smiling. - -"--he should come to claim you." - -"He shall never know from me, dear Star; that would not be womanly--why, -yes, you dear, you had to go and tell him. But will he ever see the true -light burning--burning for him?" - -"He shall, if I ever see him again; or I shall write," said Star, -teasingly, still with her eyes red from crying over recollections. - -"You must not, Star; I could not forgive you--oh, yes, Star, I would -forgive you anything--but not that," said Edith, concealing and -revealing her true feelings at the same time. "What do you think papa -would say, if he knew my love for him?" asked Edith. "Oh, I dread the -time he hears of it! And my mamma? but she will be with me, I know, for -she has told me that she likes him." - -"She suspects something of the kind, Edith," said Star. "She asked you -once just after Mr. Winthrope was here the first time; but she did not -pursue the question. She believes it now." - -"Star, I shall get well; that is my first duty, now that I am this far -on toward recovery. I shall get well, Star, and you and I shall -go--go--go--" - -"Where. Edith?" asked Star, seeing her hesitancy in saying what she -wanted to reveal. - -"--to do missionary work among the poor." - -True love comes but once in life to the pure in heart. Were we all as -pure in heart as Edith, mankind's tribulations might be less irksome. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - -MONROE AND COBB VISIT PETER DIEMAN'S HOME TOGETHER. - - -Peter Dieman sat in his high-backed leather-cushioned chair smoking a -black cigar, surrounded with all the ease and sumptuousness of a -successfully domesticated gentleman. As he smoked his favorite weed, the -circumambient gray was as a smudge in the midst of a fruiting orange -grove. And above it all, he smelled like one who had been soused in -aromatic oils. - -A pair of satin-embroidered slippers encased his broad flat feet; a red -skull-cap, with a maroon tassel on top of it, bore down upon his rufous -head of hair; a purple-flowered mandarin-like robe enfolded his pudgy -body. The hairsuite appendage that had gone neglected for years, had -been unceremoniously removed from his chin; a yellow stubby moustache, -closely cropped, hung above his lips like clipped porcupine quills, and -a new set of hand-made teeth filled his sprawling mouth. The rubicundity -of his face might have been taken as a danger sign on a dark night, with -his green-gray eyes lighted up as a companion signal. A masseur had -rubbed the scowl of years and the hate of time out of his face, till its -rotundity was equaled only by the full moon recovering from a case of -the dumps. So, all that were necessary to complete his personification -of Old King Cole were the long-stemmed pipe and the serrated crown. -While the latter would not have been essential to the enhancement of his -kingly appearance, it might have been a fitting part toward the -completion of his princely makeup. - -Thus he sat and thus he looked in his spectacular pomp of power--a -sub-king of the grafters--since he went into the soul-quieting business -of matrimony. Thus he sat and thus he looked, when Miram Monroe, the -genteel ghost, was let into his presence. Thus he sat and thus he -looked, when Jacob Cobb, the ring-master, was ushered in--one following -the other. - -Would the visitors smoke? asked His Majesty. Yes, the visitors would -smoke, as a favor to this potentate. And they smoked, and they smoked -till they filled the air so full of toxic fumes that the fair king was -almost obscured by the baleful haze. - -"Before we get down to business, gentlemen," said Peter, in all his -suavity of new refinement, as he slapped his fat right leg with his -heavy right hand, and scratched his head behind the ear with his left, -"I must escort you through my palace. I've got a place--" waving now his -right hand above his head in indication of the building that enclosed -him--"good as any man's; and I want you two old friends to see it before -we get down to business. Pleasure first, gentlemen, you know; pleasure -first, to me, now." - -"I'll be glorified to see it," said the ghost. - -"I'll be sanctified to see it," said the ring-master. - -Peter arose with kingly mien, shaking the rheumatism out of his joints -and the gout out of his toes, and then swelling out his breast to a -boa constrictor size after swallowing a goat, wheezing like a horse with -the heaves. He led the way, with his robe dragging on the carpet, to -circumnavigate the building, the ghost and the ring-master following, -respectively, with the sanctimonious bearing of laymen following a -high-priest. - -"The kiddies are out this evening attending a party, and I have all this -great house to myself--" waving his right hand around like a preacher of -the Word. "We will go up the stairs first." - -Up the stairs Peter went, the ghost next after him, looking ahead and -considering fearfully what he would feel like should the king lose his -balance, in mounting the steps, which he seemed likely to do constantly -as he elevated himself lift after lift, so clumsily did Peter climb; and -the circus-master took his time, a safe distance behind, with a sweet -air of passivity in his patience over Peter's laughable pomposity. - -Peter led the way through brilliant halls and brilliant rooms, without a -dark corner in any of them, nor even a blind closet in which to conceal -the proverbial family ghost; which shadowy being, however, was not -likely to seek a place of concealment in this home, since, as it -happens, he had evaded all these pure pleasures of domesticity for so -many years; so it would be an hazardous presumption to expect the -stalker of family trouble to abide with him. - -"Where're you going to keep the family ghost?" asked the real ghost. - -"You old batch! Do you think I'd tolerate him round here?" said Peter, -with connubial pride. "Cobb has a cinch on them all; eh, Cobb?" with a -refreshened squint towards Cobb. - -"Don't be so rude, Peter, as to bring me into your argumentations with -Monroe here, whose own reputation needs a little stringing up," -responded Cobb. - -"Never mind your moralizing--show us your house," replied the ghost, -without being the least irritated. - -When they came to the bath room, they all stepped within; and the -visitors were charmed. Peter took on a new halo of beamingness as he saw -how delighted his patrons were over this dream of modern bathery, with -its shining fixtures and alabastine walls. - -"Do you bathe, Peter?" asked the ghost. - -"I guess, yes--every morning at eight," answered Peter, with a swell. - -"Humph!" responded the ghost; "and you didn't catch cold the first -time?" with no attempt to be facetious. - -"Alcohol is a great preventative," answered Peter. - -"Within, or without?" asked the ghost. - -"Without; you mummy," retorted Peter. - -"You surprise me, Peter," said Cobb, as he was testing one of the -faucets; "the last time I saw you, you looked as if you hadn't touched -water in years." - -"Once a year then; once a day now; three hundred and sixty-five days in -the year," said Peter, grinning. - -"I always believed you had some redeeming qualities," said Cobb; "but -how does it come you have clean water?" he asked, holding up a glassful -between his eyes and the light. - -"Private filter," answered the king. - -"That's infernal water to turn into the public trough," remarked Cobb. -"I mean this, before it was filtered," pointing to the glassful still in -his hand. - -"It's all they deserve," said the king, snapping his eyes. - -"When ought we to work them for a new system?" asked Cobb, emptying the -glass. "Pretty decent water, this--when filtered," he observed, washing -his hands. - -"We'll talk about water systems when we get back to business," answered -the king. - -"Do you wash your feet in water or alcohol?" asked the ghost. - -"Don't get too fresh, Monroe, or I'll loosen up your face with some soap -and water," with a hearty chuckle. - -"Oh, sometimes I forget, Peter, seeing you heretofore as a bear," as a -mollifier to his allusions. - -"You're a corrugated donkey, Monroe," said the king, with a louder -chuckle than before, rubbing his hands, this time with a towel between -them. - -"You're a convoluted mule," returned the ghost, tapping the enameled -wall with his knuckle, as a clincher to his assertion. - -"Here, here! You fellows are getting too personal," said Cobb, stepping -forward, as if he expected trouble, so as to be ready as a queller of -what he thought might lead to a melee. - -"Hah, ha, ha!" roared Peter, strutting out like a gallinaceous cock. -"Cobb, you must pay no attention to Monroe's foolishness," as he swept -theatrically along the hallway to the stairs; but still presenting the -incongruous habits of a waddling duck. - -Monroe followed languidly, puckering his mouth into a low whistle, that -might have meant more than the blowing out of good humor. With most men, -whistling means the venting of a superfluity of joy; but with Monroe, it -might have meant a cooling drop in his cup of anger. Cobb came lolling -after them, in his usual undisturbed forbearance. - -Debouching into the parlor, with the stellar lights trailing, the king -touched a button; presto! starlight, moonlight, sunlight, all together, -in one grand aurora borealis, flashed mute darkness into palpitating -day. - -"This is my universe," cried the king, throwing up both hands, as if he -were beginning the Sermon on the Mount. - -"Grand!" whispered the ghost. - -"Grand!" said the ring-master. - -"Grand" cried back The Moses, The Napoleon, The Wellington, The -Washington, The Roosevelt, The Pathfinder, The Man With the Hoe, The -Babes in the Woods, The Doves, The Dieman, on the walls. - -"Grand!" echoed Mozart, Beethoven, Wagner, Shakespeare, Milton, Poe, -Irving, Longfellow, Emerson, standing about in corners and alcoves in -their statuary dumbness. - -"Grand!" pealed the Giant Grand resting on four legs, like an exhibition -slab of mahogany, in a corner. - -"Grand!" laughed the settees, the tete-a-tetes, the rockers, the -cushions, the chairs, as if they were ready to jump up and slap the -visitors on the back and seat them down. - -"Grand!" shouted the king. "Well, I should eat a bedbug, if you can -surpass it in this old town for dazzle." And everything hung its head in -mortification. - -"Grand!" they all said, as the king entered the dining room, with its -glitter and its glimmer and its splendor and its grandeur. "Here is -where I eat," he remarked, after seeing his friends dumfounded and -speechless. - -Dumfounded? Why, of course! - -Speechless? Why, to be sure! - -Shucks! Who said the average man isn't a pompous idiot? - -"To business, now, gentlemen; to business," said Peter, waving his hand -toward his private den, where first he was greeted in his royal robes by -the genteel ghost and the ring-master. - -"Well?" said Peter, after seating himself in his chair of state, -directing his question to Cobb. - -"Let Monroe speak," said Cobb. - -"Let Cobb speak," said Monroe. - -"Gentlemen, my proposition is the proposed new water system," said Cobb, -venturing forth. "What about it?" - -"Well, what about it?" asked Peter. - -"Can we pull it off?" asked Cobb. - -"How much is there in it?" asked the generous Peter. - -"Couple hundred thousand," said Cobb. - -"Pull her off, then," decided Peter. - -"How much do I get out of it?" asked Monroe. - -"Aren't you working your little stunt for bigger game, Monroe?" asked -Peter. - -"What new stunt you up to now?" asked Cobb, suspiciously. - -"That's a private matter," replied Monroe. - -"What is it, Peter?" asked Cobb. Then to Monroe: "Not scheming behind my -back, Monroe?" - -"No such intention," answered Monroe. - -"What is it, Peter?" asked Cobb, feelingly. - -"Monroe, I told you to keep no secrets from Cobb," said Peter. - -"What is it. Peter?" asked Cobb. - -"Shall I tell, Monroe?" said Peter. - -"Dogged if I care," said the unimpressionable Monroe. - -"He's after Jarney's daughter and her money," said Peter, rubbing his -hands on his legs, and pulling hard on a freshly lighted cigar. - -"Ho, that's why young Winthrope was sent to the New York office, was -it?" said Cobb, carelessly. - -"Yes; it looked too serious seeing him going to her home every day," -replied Monroe. "While I also went, sometimes, I never got a squint at -her." - -Cobb became serious at this piece of intelligence. He thought of young -Jasper Cobb, his son, as being entitled to a share of the spoils that -might be obtained by an alliance with the Jarneys. He thought all plans -had been laid for this catch, and all that were needed was to draw in -the net and sort the fishes. He thought that, as a matter of course, -there could be no failure. He never thought that his son was unfit for a -young lady of the graces of Miss Jarney. He never thought children had a -right to be heard in making their choice of a life partner. He never -thought that Jarney should be consulted. Men of Cobb's stripe never -think of the ethical side of a question. They never think of anything -but money--how to get it, and how to spend it. They never think of -anything, aside from getting money, but of the voluptuous side of life. -And this astounding statement of Peter's, relative to Monroe's plotting, -came as a cross-complaint to him. Baseless wretch is Mr. Monroe! - -"What're your prospects, Monroe?" asked Cobb, leaning his head far back -in his chair, and blowing smoke upwards, indolently meditating over -something that did not go down very well. - -"Good," said Monroe. - -"Explain?" said Cobb. - -"Oh; why, that's a private matter, Mr. Cobb," said Monroe, looking more -uncommunicable than ever. - -"I must know," insisted Cobb, fidgeting in his chair, with a fine -interrogative smile of assertive power. - -"Tell him, Monroe; tell him," said Peter, rubbing his hands, and blowing -smoke like a whale spouting water. - -"There's nothing tangible yet," said the yielding Monroe. - -"Tell it, Monroe!" commanded Peter. - -"What is it?" asked Cobb, sarcastically. - -"Well; here goes. First, I am working into the good graces of the -father first," said he. "When I accomplish that feat, having Winthrope -out of my way, I shall press my suit for the young lady's hand. I have -been to the Jarney home a great many times for dinner this winter"--he -looked as if he wanted to keep the matter a secret--"and I have always -found young Winthrope there. He was permitted to see her, as Mr. Jarney -explained, as the result of an hallucination caused by an auto accident, -and her illness following it. I never got an opportunity to see her. Of -course--" he seemed to be unconcerned about her illness, so listlessly -did he talk--"it would have been a delicate matter for me to have -attempted to have seen her while ill; so I concluded to abide my time. -Getting him away was my first scheme. This accomplished, and, she -recovering as I am told, I shall take the first opportunity presented to -ask her." - -During the recital of the above. Monroe acted more like an automatic -talking machine, than a human, so inanimate was his facial expression. - -"Would she throw herself away on you?" asked Cobb, drawing one eyelid -down as an accompaniment to a mental sneer. - -"Am I not as worthy as anybody else, especially Winthrope, who is poor, -and has no ancestry?" said Monroe, without a rising or falling -inflection in his voice. - -"Bully, Monroe; well said!" roared Peter, rubbing and smoking. "But you -fellows forget that a woman is usually made a party to such little -affairs of the heart. I've had experience, gentlemen; experience; and -look at this grand house," waving his hand, with a flourish, around the -maroon tassel. - -"That's true," assented Monroe, without a tremor. - -Cobb assented too, as it suited him to assent. Peter assented to his own -theory, looking through his own mirror of experience. They all assented, -and reassented, acquiesced, agreed, yielded--to this assertion, time -after time. - -"Still, I have a fighting chance, like all dogs," soliloquized Monroe. - -"Ah, you must win," said Peter, not yet discouraged, like Monroe -appeared to be; "I never lost hope." - -"But what did you get, Peter?" said Monroe, without a glint that would -indicate that he meant a jest; "a woman and ten kids!" - -"That's all I wanted," replied Peter, grinning. "Why, you old poltroon, -I don't pretend to have ancestry; but I do pretend to have money and -gratitude." - -"Don't get personal, Peter," said the admonitory Monroe. - -"Don't, don't get personal," said the pacifying Cobb. - -"Oh, no, Cobb; I do not mean to be personal; but how is the money coming -from the dives?" answered Peter, rubbing his hands first, then -scratching his ear, then pulling an extra pull on his pipe, then -spitting, then squinting, then sneezing as if to give three cheers for -his observations on the various subjects up for discussion, in all of -which he seemed to have the best of the results. - -"Fine!" exclaimed Cobb, with his eyes lighting up. "The police are just -rolling it into our coffers." - -"I need ten thousand more for Jim Dalls," said Peter, looking gloomy, -and ceasing to rub his hands. - -"It would be cheaper to send a man over there to kill him," answered -Cobb. - -"Maybe it would; maybe it wouldn't," said Peter; "but he will be back, -if he don't get it." - -"Well, send it, then," said Cobb, relenting of his grim suggestion as to -the best means of disposing of Dalls. - -The door bell rang. A servant answered it. Into the house filed ten -children, in all stages of wildness, accompanied by the mother. Seeing -them rushing in like an invading army of young Turks, the visitors -retreated with as little loss to their dignity as they could spare. And -Peter was happy again in the bosom of his family--a Prince at home; a -King at the office of Graft. - -Mrs. Dieman was now the acme of reincarnation. The jaundice of a -sorrowed life had been burned out of her face by the new brand of -cosmetics, and she now stood before the world a justly deserving woman. -But such is the passage of poverty when embellished by a little of the -olive oil of good treatment, fairer living, and a chance. Instead of the -downcast woman, with a heart laden with lead, as she once was, she was -now an upcast personage, with a heart that was a jardiniere of roses, -doing her duty, and bearing her old sorrows silently as the mistress of -a mansion. Chance was all that were needed. But still she loved Billy -Barton, the drunkard. And this is the way of woman, sometimes. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - -THE CONSPIRATORS' PLOT IS REVEALED. - - -Hiram Jarney sat in his lounging chair, in evening clothes, reading the -daily newspapers, and smoking a Santa Clara cigar. His feet were encased -in a pair of patent-leather slippers. A diamond sparkled on his spotless -bosom front. His right leg hung comfortably crossed over his left. His -clear cut features denoted his strength, and his active blue eyes his -power; both combining to produce a wholesome pride of peace. There was -not a smutch to mar his impeccability. He was immaculate from the top of -his head to the tips of his toes. His closely cropped hair revealed a -head that might be taken as a perfect model by a phrenologist to show -the parts of a well-balanced man. With a broad high forehead, high -arched brows, fine nose, and a pink complexion, his completeness as a -man of parts was unequaled. - -As he read the news, turning his paper over and over, as he glanced at -the head lines, or waded through the matter of some article that -interested him most, an almost invisible vapor lazily ascended from his -cigar--a man at ease in the bosom of his family. - -Thus he sat and thus he looked, when Miram Monroe, the genteel ghost, -was ushered in for a chat and to take dinner. When he saw who his -visitor was, Mr. Jarney laid down his paper, crossed his left leg over -his right, and leaned back in his chair, in such a resigned state of -studied equanimity (always his pose in the presence of Monroe) that -Monroe felt he must let loose one of his evanescent smiles. - -"Have a seat," said Mr. Jarney, in his familiar way of greeting Monroe; -"dinner will be ready soon." - -"Thank you," said Monroe, as he stiffly bent himself into the capacious -depths of an arm chair, sitting near. - -Monroe was faultlessly groomed. He wore an evening suit, and had a -diamond in a shirt front that looked no more starched than his frosted -face. - -"My daughter will be down tonight for the first time to take dinner with -the family," said Mr. Jarney, in a conversational mood. "She is -improving rapidly, Mr. Monroe; rapidly; and you don't know, being a -bachelor, how much I am relieved of worry since she began to mend." - -"I imagine how one would feel," said the feeling Monroe, now inwardly -cogitating over how to approach the subject that brought him there on -this occasion. - -Having no hint of Mr. Monroe's intentions, Mr. Jarney proceeded: - -"Yes; she has improved so rapidly lately that I feel, myself, like -coming out of a long illness. My daughter and I are planning a trip, -Monroe, just as soon as she is quite able." - -"A trip!" said Monroe, without expressing his surprise in his visage. - -"We had thought of going to Europe," pursued Mr. Jarney; "but my -business affairs are such that I cannot leave here this summer." - -"Where then?" asked Monroe, as if it were any of his affair where they -went. - -"We may go to the mountains for a few months, so that she can -recuperate, and later in the summer we may go to Europe," answered Mr. -Jarney. - -"Mr. Jarney," said the ghost, in a muffled voice, as if he -would burst with his secret, and as if his tongue were tied, -"Mr. Jarney, what--what--do you--think of me--as a suitor for -your--daughter's--hand?" And then he looked as if he were made of -translucent glass, or polished marble, or anything that was hard and -white and had a polished surface, with sterile spots on top of it. - -This was a stunner to the placid Mr. Jarney. The irrepressible Monroe -looked stony enough that he might be taken for a real stone god of the -Stares, as Mr. Jarney pierced him through with his piercingly keen eyes. - -"You don't mean it, Monroe?" he finally said, after looking at him a -long time, with a smile of the ridiculous mould. - -"I am in earnest, Mr. Jarney--never more in earnest," responded Monroe. - -"Have you asked the young lady yet?" asked Mr. Jarney, still unable to -believe the man was in earnest. - -"Not yet; but I want your opinion first, Mr. Jarney," answered Monroe, -fingering his watch fob. - -"You are very amusing, Mr. Monroe; very amusing," said Mr. Jarney, -facetiously. - -"Then you don't look upon me with favor?" asked Monroe. - -"Mr. Monroe, I am afraid you lack experience--at least in this respect," -said Mr. Jarney. - -"I have money--I have ancestry," said the imperturbable Monroe. - -"Oh, fudge, Monroe! fudge on your money, and your ancestry!" said Mr. -Jarney. "You need a little schooling in the art of love-making," he -said, smiling at the audacity of the ghost. "Do you suppose I would put -my daughter up to be sold to the highest bidder, and knocked down to any -old money bag that should come along? Do you? Do you? Answer me that?" - -No answer. - -"Do you think, or presume to think," he continued, "that I would allow a -child of mine to be bandied about in this mercenary manner? She is my -daughter--my only child; she has a mind of her own; she is independent; -so when she makes up her mind to that end, I shall consider it. She will -first counsel with me before her intended suitor does. Mr. Monroe, it is -very unbecoming, ungentlemanly, ungracious in you to come here this -evening, and speak as you have spoken, not having seen her in months, or -talked with her at all on the subject. I would do well, Mr. Monroe," -continued Mr. Jarney, in the same equinimity of temper, "to dismiss you -from my house, and from my service; don't you think so?" - -"Beg your pardon, Mr. Jarney; beg your pardon, if I have given offense," -said the ghost, with frozen affability. "I have given these thoughts -considerable consideration, and I thought it only proper and meet in me -to ask your opinion--it was only your opinion I asked, Mr. Jarney; so I -beg your pardon. May I ask the young lady, then?" - -"You may do as you like about that," said Mr. Jarney, knowing, in his -kind fatherly heart, the finality of such a procedure. - -"Mr. Winthrope has been permitted to see--" pursued Monroe; but Mr. -Jarney broke him off by saying: "Don't mention Mr. Winthrope's name in -this connection as an excuse for your imbecility." - -Mr. Monroe sat through this grilling, unmoved as a donkey might. After -cogitating again for a moment, he said: "I thought I was as good as -anyone else, when I broached the subject." - -"You have lost the point of view, Mr. Monroe; lost it entirely," -answered Mr. Jarney. "Lest you fall into brambles, you would better -brush yourself up a little on the subject of courting. You will find a -book of rules, perhaps in a ten cent store; get one, and brush up a -little, Mr. Monroe." - -Dinner was announced. Monroe, unabashed and stiffly congruous, descended -upon the dining table with such great gravity that he was likely to -break in two before his hunger could be appeased. Opposite him sat Edith -and Star. Edith, in her pale blue evening gown, was the essence of -delicacy. Her face was fulling into health again, though showing the -toning wounds of long illness. Her eyes sparkled almost as the diamonds -that were set in ring and brooch. Star was like a fresh young sun on a -bright summer day. Mrs. Jarney was as bouncing as ever in her -sprightliness. Monroe was cold, as marble-like, as statue-like, as ever. -The dinner was very formal, very cheerless, very unappetizing to every -one, save Monroe, who ate with relish everything set before him. - -The cause of all this coldness may be laid to the front door of Mr. -Monroe. He had cast a shade of the grouch over them all. Somehow, the -mother was calmed by the sense of some pervading evil thing, -inexpressibly unaccountable. Somehow, the two young ladies felt the -chilly presence of a tentacled fish out of water, that was wholly -inexplicable. Somehow, the father (unknown to the rest) could not raise -himself out of the coolness, into which the ghost had plunged him. - -The two young ladies had greeted Monroe very gracefully and profusely, -when they first came down stairs; but they momentarily lapsed into -mediocre silence by the all pervading something they could not fathom. -The mother started out to be very gleeful over her daughter's recovering -health: but instinctively having a premonition of a mysterious caul -overhanging her, she slumped into an unbearable quietude. So dinner was -eaten with a sort of wingless spirit in them all, proving a -discomforting failure in its pleasureableness. - -Monroe, in his impenetrability, did not see anything unusual. Had he -seen, had he noticed, had he heeded, he would have departed at the most -opportune time. But no; he loitered in the parlor, after dinner, and -sought to engage Edith in quiet conversation. And he succeeded. Edith -was sitting on a settee, with a silk mantle thrown over her shoulders. -Star was drumming on the piano, on which she was now taking lessons, the -father and mother being out. Monroe sat down by Edith. After foolishly -gazing about the room, as if in an indecisive state of mind about how to -entertain himself, he said, icily: - -"Miss Jarney, may I have the pleasure of calling on you sometimes?" - -Edith was startled at this unheard of piece of rashness participated in -by the ghost. She trembled through the inward fear she had of this man -of unapproachable demeanor. But summoning up what little of her former -courage she had left after the blighting effect of her long illness, she -replied. - -"Oh, Mr. Monroe, I have no objections to your coming here sometimes as a -guest of my papa; but as for calling on me, for the purpose you -intimate, that is impossible." - -"Why do you object to me, Miss Jarney?" he asked, undeterred by repulses -that would have sent any self-respecting man into hiding. - -"Why, you are as old as Adam himself," replied Edith, feigning to be -gay, but still frightened. - -Seeing Edith's dainty hand, with a diamond shining on it, he caught it -up, as if he would touch his vile lips to it. Edith withdrew her hand -quickly, without a word, arose and walked toward the piano, leaving the -ghost sitting alone like a confused statue when hit with a snow ball. -Thereupon, Monroe came to his senses, and forthwith departed, leaving a -cloud of mystification behind, over his actions. - -In a huff (inwardly), he sought his companions, and escorted them to the -Bottomless Pit, there to celebrate his great victory, as he called it. - -"Well, what luck?" asked Welty Morne, as soon as a bottle had been -uncorked, and he held a glass of its contents before his admiring eyes. - -"Aye, what luck?" chimed in Bate Yenger. - -"Bully good luck," said the ghost, like an owl. - -"All right with the old man, I suppose?" said Welty, swallowing down his -glassful. - -"All right--the old duffer," said Monroe, draining his glass. - -"How about the girl?" they asked. - -"She fell right into my arms, and accepted," responded the ghost, -seemingly without the glint of a frown. - -"Whew! Quick work, old boy; quick work! When is it to come off?" asked -Welty, speaking loudly. - -"Sometime in the future," answered Monroe, mysteriously. - -"Drink! and the devil have done for the rest!" shouted Welty, and he -imbibed another glass as an additional stimulant to his joy. - -"Bully good people, boys; bully good people," said Monroe, pulling -another cork. - -"How soon you going to drop the pole set up to impale Winthrope?" asked -Welty, unrestrained now in his enthusiasm, which he gave vent to -occasionally, by whistling and humming a doggerel, alternately. - -"The dog," growled Monroe, changing his tone. "Not yet, boys; not yet. -It goes up as if nothing had happened." - -"When will you transfix him?" asked Welty. - -"I am going to New York tomorrow to complete plans," said the invincible -ghost. - -"Up goes the flag of destruction!" shouted Welty, with Bate repeating -the words after him, both raising glasses and emptying them. - -Thus they talked and thus they drank, till the potent power of wine laid -them low in a delirious sense of delirium in Monroe's downy bed. - -After Monroe had left the Jarney home, Edith and Star ascended to the -former's chamber for that rest which night should bring to the pure in -heart. - -Divesting themselves of their day clothing, they invested themselves in -their night robes, and laid down together, side by side, in the bed -where Edith had lain so long as an invalid. When the lights were out and -the coverlets were drawn up over them, Edith heaved a sigh, like one -does who lies down in exhaustion to find that peace that darkness and a -soft bed fetches on. Star fell asleep directly, and lay in that peaceful -calm which comes to one in good health and having no intangible fancies -in the mind. - -But to Edith, repose was as difficult as the quietness sought by the -brook in seeking an eddying pool after long racing down a roughened -mountain bed. She turned first on one side, and then on the other, -dozing many times almost to the slumberous point, where the transport to -the land of dreams is imminent; then awakening with a start, as if the -nightmare were treading her down to death, only to see the little -imaginary beings that the half-closed eyes see in the illusory -light-disks that whirl through impenetrable darkness. She tried to -recollect some few of the nights through which she had passed, lying -here, as if they were transitory dreams, remembering indistinctly how -long and dreary some were, with flitting spirits and hurrying beings -filling up the surroundings; she tried to recall the forms of hopes and -doubts that seemed always to possess her, and wondered how intangible -creative mind is in its wandering; she tried to conjure up the scenes of -the tall, handsome figure in black that called every day and knelt by -her bedside, but all that she could see was the form kneeling there, and -never losing sight of the face, as if it were a part of her existence; -she tried to recall the last day that he was there, when he said -farewell, but all that she could remember was, "May I come, some -day--some day;" she tried to recall whether she had said yes, or no, so -uncertain was she now in her remembrance. She did, however, recall very -distinctly what the unconfiding Star had told her--a secret given by -John--and she was happy. And still there lurked before her the white -marble face of a man, whom she had repulsed that evening. She saw it, -when she closed her eyes, like a menacing statue in every corner of her -brain; she saw it, when she opened her eyes, like a statue in every -corner of the room, grimly and remorselessly pursuing her. And she -shuddered. Finding sleep impossible under the wild riding of her -thoughts, she placed a hand on Star's shoulder, and shook her into -drowsy wakefulness. - -"Star, Star," she whispered. "Are you awake?" - -"Yes," said Star, yawning. - -"Star, I cannot sleep; will you talk to me?" she asked. - -"Yes, deary," responded Star, in a semi-conscious tone. - -"Well, talk then; I cannot sleep," pleaded Edith, to arouse her -companion from her natural stupor. - -"Yes; I will talk, deary; go on," answered Star, not yet being willing -to comply with Edith's request. - -"Star, are you awake?" asked Edith, shaking the sleeper. - -"I am awake," answered Star, rising full upright in bed. "Can't you -sleep, Edith? Lie down and count the sheep jumping over the fence." - -"Now, do not be cross, Star," said Edith, sighing; "I am very nervous -tonight." - -"Poor dear; this day has been too much for you," said Star, leaning over -and kissing Edith. - -"Talk awhile, Star; then maybe I can sleep," said Edith. - -"Shall I tell you about the wolf that comes to poor people's doors?" -asked Star, jocularly. - -"Oh, no; not so hideous a story as that, Star; I am nervous enough now," -replied Edith. - -"Then about the mouse that moved the mountain?" - -"That is a fable, Star; something real!" - -"Then about the man as old as Adam, who asked a maid of twenty-two to -marry him?" - -"He did not ask me, Star. Do you believe he was in earnest?" - -"I think he is a sham, Edith," replied Star; "and I think he was in -earnest. Now, Edith, if I tell you what was pledged to me in secrecy, -will you not tell where it came from? Yes, you will. When I was home -today, Mr. Dieman told me that Mr. Monroe is going to New York for the -purpose of causing Mr. Winthrope trouble before he should ever get home -to see you again. I should have told you this, Edith, before now; but -seeing how nervous you were all evening, I thought it well to put it off -till tomorrow; or till you get better." - -Star ceased, yawned, and became quiet. - -"Did he tell you any more?" asked Edith, sitting up herself in bed. - -"Yes, Edith; it is too awful for me to tell you tonight." - -"I cannot sleep till you finish, Star," said Edith, lying down again, -with Star following her actions. - -"Mr. Dieman told me of the whole plot, Edith," said Star, talking in a -low sleepy voice; "not sparing himself for the part he played in it; for -when the plot was conceived Mr. Dieman was unforgiving toward any of my -mother's people who had opposed his marriage to her before she ran away -with father. But now, that he is going through a period of penitence -and reconciliation with his conscience, he was not loath to tell me -all." - -"What is the plot, Star? Don't keep me waiting; I am impatient to hear -it." - -"Mr. Winthrope," continued Star, "was sent to the New York office -through the conniving of Monroe, to keep him out of your sight. His aim -was to make an effort to have you marry him, get your money, and divide -the spoils (that is your money) between himself and his fellow -conspirators. That failing, he is to ruin Mr. Winthrope's chances by -tempting him to steal the company's money, but stealing it himself and -laying the blame on Mr. Winthrope, and then flee to Europe." - -Edith lay quiet during the recital, breathing lightly. - -"That failing, they will cause him to carry certain large sums of money -to a certain place; then hold him up and rob him," continued Star. "They -have been planning all winter, and are now about ready to bring it to a -conclusion. The time set, was to be as soon as possible after you were -able to be seen by Monroe. Having seen him this evening, Edith, it must -be time for them to strike. We must intercede to save him, Edith, if -possible." - -"I cannot do anything, in my enfeebled condition; but I shall see papa -early in the morning. I shall forestall Monroe, in his madness! Mr. -Winthrope shall be saved from those bad men! Star, something seemed to -have told me that all was not going well for him. Bless your dear -heart!" said Edith, firmly, sternly, but calmer. - -Concluding her story, Star soon fell asleep. Edith, after having her -fancies put to rout by the serious things that causes a more determined -course to mark its way through the brain, also fell asleep; and did not -awake till the morning sun, breaking through the smoke, had kissed the -damp of slumber from her cheeks. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - -EDITH REVEALS HER SECRET TO HER FATHER AND HE GOES TO NEW YORK. - - -Refreshing sleep, though late in coming, restored Edith's composure. She -came down to breakfast temperamentally disposed to enter into -negotiations with her father toward the combating of any plot laid by -Monroe and his friends to entice John Winthrope into questionable -dealings. - -Like a wronged woman, through an excess of virtuous actions, she felt it -peculiarly incumbent upon herself to frustrate the plotters--not that it -would save John alone; but that it would, as well, be consistently in -line with her ideas of just dealings between man and man. During the -hour which she consumed in making her toilet, she revolved the whole -matter, as related to her by Star, over and over in her now becalmed and -determined little head; and the more she revolved it, the brighter -became the sparkle in her strong blue eyes, and fiercer grew the -militant spirit in her nature. The fatigue that had put her into a -nervous state the night before had been routed by that blind force that -comes upon depression through a quick series of changes attendant upon a -wrong done, to be displaced only through wearying fortitude. - -Edith, being primarily one of those strong natures that survives by -shock of incident, went boldly to her conceived duty, as though it were -given her to be ever strong when the crucial moment arrived. She now -knew that her father's good nature was being imposed on by that man of -unconscienceable principles. Before she fell ill the year before, the -actions of Monroe, two or three times, excited her suspicion, and she -had then thought of a plan to forestall him; but by reason of the fatal -auto ride, her movements were delayed; and as well did it delay the -schemers in their dark and dastardly plotting. It seemed a formidable -undertaking for one so frail as Edith, just coming out of a spell of -mental derangement; not in its simpleness of action was it so big, but -in the momentousness of its results on her enervated system. She would -brook no importunate pleading of her friend, Star, to stay her in her -course, and leaped into it, as if she were a veritable Goliath of -strength. - -When she arrived in the dining room that morning with re-enforced -courage, she greeted her father and mother, both waiting her arrival, -with a kiss, and sat down next to them. Several times she was on the -point of bringing up the subject, but lest it should disturb her mother, -she calmly awaited a more convenient time for the rehearsal she expected -to have with him. Breakfast was usually a quiet affair with the Jarneys, -so little was thought of the reserve with which each held speech. After -breakfast, Edith took her father's arm and guided him to a quiet nook in -the drawing room, and seated him in his favorite seat on one side of a -long plate-glass window that opened on his private grounds in front of -the mansion. - -"Papa, I want a word or two with you this morning before you leave," -said Edith, drawing a chair up and sitting down by his side. - -"This is unusual, Edith; now, what can my little girl want?" he said, -endearingly, taking one of her hands. "You are not going to give me a -secret, are you?" - -"Too true, papa," replied Edith, and Mr. Jarney expected something else -just then than what he heard. - -"I am not going to lose my little girl, I hope?" he said, patting her -hand. - -"Not yet, papa; now, you must sit real quiet, and be not so inquisitive, -nor so suspecting till you have heard me," she said, fondly. - -"Why, Edith, I had suspected some dark and mysterious deed you had -committed; but, with your assurance that I am not to lose you yet. I am -listening," he replied. - -Then she related all that Star had unfolded to her the night previous; -and even how Monroe had acted. - -"From whom did Star get the information?" he asked, meditatively, after -Edith had finished. - -"From her step-father, Peter Dieman." - -"Humph! Peter Dieman! and he married Kate Jarney at last--to her -betterment," he said, in a ruminating mood. "Well, after all, I am -satisfied. Had she heeded me, she would not have gone through all these -years of misery that her profligate husband brought upon her. Once I -offered to assist her; but she was too proud in her lowliness to respond -to my proffered aid. It is better, perhaps; it is better. It seems that -the scheme of things is wrong, sometimes; but in the end it is -righted." - -"Now, what is to be done, dear papa?" asked Edith, seeing that he had -taken a discursive course in response to her irrefutable facts. - -"I shall act at once," said he, gazing out the window, abstractedly, as -if he had been wounded by an aspersion cast upon his magnanimity. -"Ingrate! Ingrate! all of them!" he mused, drumming on the arm of the -chair with his fingers, deep in study over some plan of action. "Edith, -what would you do?" he asked, as he turned his head and looked at her -trustfully. "I have trusted him in his department all these years, and -he has given such satisfaction that no one mistrusted his motives, or -questioned his integrity. I can hardly believe it, Edith. What would you -do?" - -"Do you leave it to me?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with suppressed -fire. - -"I do," he answered, half seriously; half in jest. - -"Then eliminate him, and his dupes, at once," she answered, with great -seriousness. - -"It is hard for me to do that of my own volition," he replied. "He is so -fortified with friends on the board of directorate that they must all be -taken into consideration." - -"Will they not see the necessity of his removal, when apprised of the -facts?" she asked. - -"They may; but he is so strongly entrenched that his removal would be -almost disastrous to me." - -"How, papa? How?" she asked, now quickly perceiving a new gleam of the -entangling meshes of business associates. - -"By turning them against me, if the story should turn out to be false," -he answered, reflectively. "But I shall lay it before them at once and -investigate." - -"In the event that you should remove him, would you bring Mr. Winthrope -to your office?" asked Edith, and a tiny flush suffused her cheeks. - -"No; Mr. Winthrope must remain in New York," unthinking of the effect -his answer might have on his daughter. - -Edith turned a little pale at this response, and her hand trembled in -his. - -"Why, Edith, are you so much interested in him that you want him to be -ever present?" asked the father, noting the tremor of her hand. - -"Oh, no, papa--not that much--yes--what am I saying, papa--I don't -know," she replied, excitedly, turning her head at the sound of her -mother approaching, which seemed to have been prearranged at that -moment; but, of course, was not. Mrs. Jarney left, after seeing the -interview was private. - -"It appears to me, Edith, that you are acting strangely about this -matter," said her father, beginning to be enlightened. - -"Papa, I--I--love him," she whispered in his ear, as she put her cheek -up to his to hide the blushes in her face, and to conceal his own -countenance which she expected to see turn into a frown upon her at this -unexpected answer. "Papa, you will forgive me, won't you?--yes, you -will. It is my heart, dear papa--I cannot help it--do forgive me?" she -went on, with her eyes filled with tears of happiness and weakness and -misery over her uncontrollable feelings. - -"Let me see your face, Edith?" said her father, making an effort to turn -his head, which she held pressed to her own. - -"No, no; I won't papa, till you say you will forgive me," she answered, -kissing him. - -"To keep peace, Edith, I will forgive you; let me see your face?" - -"There!" she exclaimed, suddenly releasing him, and standing off, with -tear stains marking through her flushes, and her hair tousled by the -performance. - -"I believe you," he said, beholding her in a state of mixed emotions; -"but I am not yet ready to approve of your selection." - -Her heart sank at this answer, and she sank to the floor by his side. -Throwing one arm over his knee, and her head upon her arm, she burst -into a fit of passionate grief that shook her frame. - -"My dear Edith," said he, placing his hand on her head, grieved himself -by her outburst of new affliction, "you cause me grief. I would not hurt -your dear little heart for anything. Now, come, explain to me fully what -that heart of yours tells you?" - -She arose, half laughing, half crying, almost hysterically discomposed, -rubbing her tears away, as she smiled through them rolling down her -face. - -"I feel ashamed, papa, for being so weak; but I cannot help it," she -said, sitting down on his knee, and throwing her head upon his shoulder -and one arm around his neck. - -"Well! Edith. I am in sympathy with you," said he; "but you gave me a -severe shock being so plainly spoken about such an affair of the heart. -Does he suspect it of you?" - -"I do not think so, papa--but, papa, he told Star that he loved me, and -told her not to tell--and, goosey that she is, she told me, and caused -me more--because he said he could not expect to ever meet me on the same -level; and that is all I have against him--" - -"Well! Of all things I ever heard of," said the father. "I had not been -inclined to interfere with you, Edith, in such affairs; but I--" he -hesitated. "You make your choice, but be careful, child; be careful." - -"Don't you think he is good, papa?" she asked. - -"Very good--fine--perfect, Edith! I should not disfavor him; but he must -love you for your own dear self before I shall ever give my consent." - -"He may never find it out, papa," she said, drearily; "and if he does -not, I shall never let him know, and shall go through the world alone." - -"That is noble in you, Edith," said her father, kissing her. "It is time -for me to go," he said, as she released him. - - * * * * * - -On arriving at his office, Mr. Jarney was informed that Mr. Monroe had -quietly taken himself off that morning for New York. He was further -informed that Mr. Monroe had been requested to make the trip by certain -members of the Board of Directors; and further, that he was entrusted -with a large sum of money, in the form of drafts, made payable to the -order of the treasurer of the company at the Broadway office. When this -news was flashed upon Mr. Jarney, there seemed to penetrate his -tractable mind, like a thunderbolt, the concatenating links of a plot, -too realistic to be waived aside; which he was prone to do, when Edith -gave him her story that morning. - -Side by side with the facts concerning Monroe's leave-taking and -purpose, he also learned that the genteel ghost had taken with him -certain office books and papers, to be used in checking over accounts -while auditing the books of the branch office. This was not in -accordance with precedence, and proved another corroborative -circumstance in the duplicity of the culpable Monroe. - -Putting all these correlated facts together, Mr. Jarney, after due -deliberation, and after duely weighing them all as incriminating -integral parts, and after combining them with the main story of the -plot, arrived at the inevitable conclusion that Monroe was up to some -deviltry that should be probed to the bottom. He, therefore, called a -meeting of the Board of Directors, and put the whole question, in all -its phases, before that body. It was almost noon when the board met. -They must act without going through the circumlocution of formal -discussion and the entanglements of red tape, he told them. Some of the -members were for postponing the meeting till the next day, to await a -telegram from New York, so great was their faith in Monroe's honor. -Monroe, they said, would be in the metropolis on the morrow. The -procrastinating members prevailed in their vote on the question, and -adjournment was had till the next day. - -But Mr. Jarney was not disconcerted, nor did he allow himself to be -wholly blocked in his plan of action. So as soon as the board had -arrived at the decision to go slow, he took it upon himself, knowing the -shrewdness of John Winthrope, to send him a private wire, addressed -personally, briefly saying: - -"Beware of Monroe; I will be there tomorrow afternoon, if possible." - -Dispatching this message, Mr. Jarney returned home, related to Edith -what he had discovered as confirmatory evidence against Monroe, got -ready, and left on the next train for the seat of trouble. - -Edith, from the morning of her conversation with her father to the time -she received a wire from him, went through a siege of terrible mental -conflicts. She confided in no one, at first, not even Star, the cause of -her father's sudden call to New York. She was in a highly nervous fright -throughout the hours that seemed never to pass between his going and the -receipt of the telegram. Her flights of fancy went to unreasonable -complications for the doomed young man in the New York office. She -thought she must rescue him at all odds to her health. Had she been in a -condition physically able to bear the journey, she would have gone -alone, if need be; or with her father, if permitted; but as it was, she -remained in her prison like an unwilling subject in a sanitorium. Thus -exhibiting an excitable demeanor in her actions, her mother and Star -made futile attempts to draw from her the cause of her fervid agitation. -Still strung to a high tension of determination, still overcome with an -uncommon fear, still anxious and studiously meditating over the -eventualities that might come to pass before her father should reach his -destination, she wandered about the house in uncontrollable -perturbation, sticking tenaciously to her secret. - -"Edith," said Star, approaching her in one of her rounds of walking the -floor, "come, tell me what is agitating you so today, that I might be of -help." - -Placing her arm around Star's waist, without a word, she drew Star along -in her walk, looking dreamily, and seeing nothing, save what the -illusive eye might see in the distance. Star returned the friendly -embrace of Edith, and with their arms around each other, the two walked -and walked, both silent. Edith silent over what she was pondering on, -Star silent over what she feared was an unnatural mental balance. - -"Are you ill today, Edith?" asked Star. - -"Oh, no, Star; I am feeling very well today," replied Edith. - -"But you are so quiet and unresponsive that I can't quite make you out," -said Star. - -Then leading Star to the window where she sat with her father the day -before, Edith asked her to sit down that she might have a word with her. - -"Star," she said, seriously, relenting in her purpose to keep her secret -longer, "what you told me two nights ago I have discovered to be too -true--at least in a circumstantial way," said Edith. - -"Why, then, haven't you told me, Edith, so that I could have a -fellow-feeling for you?" asked Star. - -"Papa requested me to keep it a secret till he returns; which I should -do. But, deary, you know I am like you, it is hard to keep a secret," -said Edith, still uncertain whether to proceed farther. - -"Now, my dear Edith! I never tell anybody any secrets but you, and you -tell them to nobody else, and you never tell any to me, so that is as -far as yours ever get." - -"Star. I must refreshen your memory a little," said Edith, playfully. "I -am not scolding you, you know; but just reminding you a little. Now, -didn't you tell Mr. Winthrope something?" - -"Well, wasn't he entitled to it?" said Star, laughing. - -"Then you won't, in this instance, tell anybody?" - -"No--o--hope'm'die," returned Star, crossing her breast. - -"Papa has gone to New York to intercept Monroe." - -"Has he?" said Star, with wide eyes. "Monroe, then, has gone?" - -"Went yesterday morning before papa reached his office. Papa learned -some things that substantiated what Mr. Dieman told you, and, putting -everything together, he became convinced of the truthfulness of the -stratagem of that man Monroe to bring Mr. Winthrope into disrepute. -Star, had Monroe succeeded in his designs before I had learned the true -status of affairs, I should not have believed anything against him; but -now that I have been forewarned, I shall never lose faith in his honor -and integrity. Star, I told papa of my love for him, which papa did not -accept pleasantly at first, thinking I was in fun, or doing it as a lark -to tease him; but when he realized I was never more serious, he called -him a fine, perfect young man, and was pleased. There, Star, I have told -you what has been on my mind since yesterday. Am I a goosey still?" - -"You are a little dove, Edith," said Star, sweetly. - -"Star, I should like to see Mr. Dieman," said Edith, changing the -subject. "Can you have him come here?" - -"I may; but it is doubtful." - -"I would go to him, if I could." - -"He has a young man named Eli Jerey, who transacts business matters for -him. He might be summoned. Mr. Dieman places implicit confidence in him. -Everything now must be conveyed through him to Mr. Dieman, I am told. I -have seen Mr. Jerey; and I can have him called here to see you for -whatever you might want to impose upon Mr. Dieman." - -"Is Mr. Dieman so exclusive as that?" asked Edith. - -"He is, indeed, Edith. Since his marriage to mother, he has set up in -great state, and does nothing but look after his family affairs -personally, and transacts other affairs by the way of Mr. Jerey." - -"You will vouch for his trustworthiness? at least you can promise that -much through what Mr. Dieman represents him to be?" - -"Oh, yes; whatever Mr. Dieman says can be relied on." - -"Then you may have Mr. Jerey call here at eight o'clock this evening, if -he can come." - -"Shall I call him now?" asked Star, rising to go to the phone to have a -talk with that gentleman. - -"Yes. Papa must be in New York by this time; I should know soon, by -wire, what Monroe has accomplished," said Edith, as Star was leaving -her. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - -ELI JEREY IS CALLED INTO REQUISITION. - - -It is wonderful how prosperity transcends every other medium in working -a transformation in a poor stick of humanity, who has been chortled, -like a shuttle-lock, through the shifting warp of adversity. It is -refreshing to observe, sometimes, how often men and women of lowly state -can rise, as it were, by their own boot-straps from the great misfortune -of having nothing to the ravishing luck of plentitude. It is, indeed, -very promising to know that favoring chance does not fall altogether -upon the many who are born with silver spoons in their mouths. - -It may not have been by his own boot-straps, unaided, that Eli Jerey -rose to his plenary rank, or to his financial exhaltation. It may not -have been luck alone, or chance, or extended aid, that hoisted him to -the skies in the estimation of Peter Dieman; neither could it have been -native ability, for his qualifications were of the superficial kind, to -the casual observer. - -However, whatever the cause might have been, it is one of the -certainties of the things that be, that Eli was now in high favor with -his former master, and was prospering like a well-conditioned house cat. -For Peter was certainly expiating himself for all the cuffs and rebuffs -that he had heaped upon that poor lad's head during the period of his -vengefulness. Eli was now made plenipotentiary extraordinary of the -former junkman, with full rank of major-domo of his private affairs, -insofar as they appertained, incidentally, to the junk shop, and the -purveying of news of the System between the main totem himself and his -sub-lunary lights. - -And this elevation of Eli remodeled him as a being. Instead of the -stoop-shouldered, thin-faced, frowsy-headed, dirty, unwashed, ill-clad, -uncared-for individual that a scanty stipend produces, we now see an -erect, sharp-featured, cleanly-shaved, neatly-clad, bright-eyed young -man. Although not handsome, his face called for an adulatory -responsiveness on the part of those who came in contact with him. -Instead of having his hands continually soiled by the labors that he -performed in sorting junk and displaying it to customers, it was not -uncommon to see him going about the shop gloved in brown kid. Instead of -a dark-brown lay-down-collar shirt that always gave him the appearance -of a water front workman, he wore boiled linen, decorated with a -sparkling stud and flashy necktie. Instead of a greasy coat that hung -loosely over his shoulders, he wore a neat business suit. Instead of the -sweat-marked slouch hat, that used to loll on one side of his head, he -wore a derby. Instead of a chain made of leather, to which was attached -a brass watch, he carried a gold ticker fastened to his vest by a -delicately-linked chain. Instead of the black, filthy office, in which -his master sat for years, and in which he sat for a time after his -advancement, he could now be found in a bright, clean place, papered and -tinsled and decorated, with a new desk to write at, and a -leather-cushioned chair to recline in. Thus he appeared in his new role, -when the phone rang one day, as it often did, but now with a different -purport than ever before. - -"Hello!" responded Eli, taking down the receiver and adjusting it to his -ear. - -"Yes; this is Mr. Jerey." - -"Eli Jerey; yes." - -"Yes; Mr. Dieman's office." - -"Very busy day; but we're always open for new business." - -"A private interview!" - -"Can't you come to my office?--I never go out--except ordered by Mr. -Dieman." - -"Can I come without him knowing it?" - -"That depends on the business." - -"Well; who wants me?" - -"Can't set a time or date till I know." - -"What! Mr. Jarney's residence!" ("Well, did you ever!" on the side). - -"Miss Jarney!" - -"Who's this talking?" - -"Star Barton!" ("Well, did you ever!" on the side.) - -"Where are you?" now more interested. - -"At Mr. Jarney's?" ("Well, what now?" on the side.) - -"What time?" ("Bless me!" on the side.) - -"Yes; 7 p. m. will do." ("Ha, me!" on the side.) - -"I will be there." ("On the dot!" on the side.) - -Eli hung up the receiver, stood a moment tickling his right ear with his -right forefinger, a habit of his. He was in a confused and perplexed -state of mental consternation. Miss Barton! Miss Barton! Peter Dieman's -step-daughter! went through his head in a rollicking way. "Hah! Miss -Barton! I've heard of her; and Miss Jarney--rich--young--poorty--and -wants an interview with me! Humph!" he mused, after sitting down. "Well, -I must make myself presentable and go henceforth to meet them in all my -dignity; yes, meet my superiors now in all my dignity--hah!" - -In due time Eli repaired to his room in the Monongahela House, a very -ancient and a very honorable institution of its kind, no other being now -suitable to Eli's enlarged notions of refinement. He clothed himself in -his best bib and tucker, swatted down his hair so flat that it looked as -if it had been laid by a weaver's hand to his swelling head, and -powdered his sallow face till it was resplendent with the polish of good -looks. - -Now, when all was completed he stood before the mirror, like a -coquettish maid primping to make a hit, and there saw reflected back a -very well appearing young gentleman. He saw all that the art of -massaging and ointing and cologning and talcuming and starching and -tailoring could mould out of the material at hand. He saw reflected back -a youth five feet ten, with hollow eyes, peaked face, broad high -forehead, condensed lips, and good teeth, long fingers, all supported by -a suit of black, full dress style, with low white vest and -patent-leather shoes. He saw also a diamond in his shirt front, white -necktie banding a high collar, dark gray gloves, gold-headed cane, and -high silk hat. - -Before withdrawing from the allurements of the mirror, Eli touched his -fingers to his lips, stroked his sandy eyebrows, turned around a time or -two, with admiring glances over his shoulder, as he raised or lowered -his brows, or opened his mouth to show his teeth to himself; adjusted -the plug correctly on his head, drew on his gloves, took his cane in -one hand, and receded from his reflected self, with many glancing and -furtive farewells at the glass; closing the door at last, regretful that -he had so soon to part company with such an admirable picture of budding -manhood. - -Settling himself inside a glass enclosed auto, he was whizzed through -the appalling roar and grime of the city, like the formal gentleman that -he was, sitting among the soft and heaving cushions, and looking to the -passers-by, in his flight, like the silhouette of a grand bourgeois in -contradistinction to the votaries of swelldom. In his present state of -perverted obsequiousness, Eli was intensely vain, usually; but now, -while in the gentlemanly act of calling upon a lady, so rich that he -could not count all her money did he live a thousand years, and at her -own request, for an interview, he was ludicrously haughty, and -hopelessly ignorant of the rules of deportment surrounding the secluded -haunts of the refined and the mighty ones of power and place. Any -failings that he had, he did not recognize. His limitations were his -blisses. What he did not know, he took as a matter of no consequence. If -he saw a thing, it permeated him with unwarped fascination; if he did -not see it clearly, he was not troubled. Rising to his present state, -was of more importance as to present results, than as to permanency. In -truth, he was a queer combination of meritorious attainments now, -meaning well, and doing his best to be an efficient collaborator of his -famous mentor--Peter Dieman. He was a person of little imagination. -Everything was realistic to him. So, in journeying to the Jarneys on -this auspicious occasion, he imagined very little about how he should -act, or perform, or conduct himself, any more than what would come -naturally to him. - -When he presented himself to the two young ladies in the drawing room of -the mansion on the hill, he shocked them by sitting down with his hat on -his head, though they could not help but admire his rich habiliments. - -"May I take your hat?" said Edith, approaching him, of course expecting -to receive that piece of fine head covering to deposit it where it -belonged at such a time. - -"No, madam, no; it is just as well where it is," he replied, showing his -white teeth through a crooked smile. "I've been used to setting with it -on." - -He was so unapproachable that Edith was embarrassed before him. Star had -remembered him as the former disheartening clerk of her step-father. She -had seen him when she had gone to the junk shop with her mother that -time for the redemption of her kitchen utensils, and she had not -forgotten how cadaverous and impoverished he then looked. - -"I presume you remember me?" asked Star, to break the monotonous silence -into which the interview had perforce fallen. - -"I don't know that I do," said he, showing his fine teeth again, and -lifting his eyebrows. "So many people came into the store in those days -that I paid little attention to them all." - -"Don't you remember the girl who was so poorly clad that was with her -mother the day Mr. Dieman gave back the dishes her father had pawned, -and against which you protested?" asked Star. - -"Are you the gal?" he asked, with brightening face. - -"I am the gal," returned Star, laughing. - -"Well! how time makes changes in this world," he responded, looking her -over carefully, hardly believing that the pretty face of Star's, with -pretty gown to match, could possibly be the same. "It beats all; and you -are the sister of all of Mr. Dieman's children?" - -"Mrs. Dieman's children," she corrected. - -"Yes, that's it--I know your sister May," he said, with a smile. - -"Do you, really?" said Star. - -"I call on him often, and see her, sometimes--she's a dandy," he said. - -"A fine girl," corrected Edith. - -"Yes; mighty fine," he answered, as he crossed his gloved hands over the -head of his cane standing perpendicularly in front of him, and putting -his chin down upon them, as if posing as a rejuvenated old man "by the -wayside on a mossy stone," looking steadily at them both. "And you are -May's sister? Well!" - -"I have that honor," replied Star. - -"Well! Who would think it? You are so much poortier," he said, quietly -and naturally, without intending to be impertinent. - -Star blushed at first; but in a moment became vexed, and looked very -black at him; that is, as black as she could look, for no matter how she -tempered up, not much sign of her resentment was ever evidenced in her -face. Edith was astonished at his rudeness, and glanced at Star for an -explanation of the bold manner of this young man. Eli, in his -transparent innocence, did not feel the effects of their interchange of -glances, and was not disturbed. Anticipating that he might precipitate a -scene by an unfortunate remark, Edith took up the subject that had -caused her to have him present. - -"Mr. Jerey," she began, faltering in her speech, "you are Mr. Dieman's -agent, I understand?" - -"I am," he replied, loftily. - -"Do you know Mr. Monroe?" - -"I do." - -"Do you know Mr. Morne?" - -"I do--he's a scamp." - -"Do you know Mr. Yenger?" - -"I do--he's another scamp." - -"Do you know my father?" - -"Not personally." - -"Do you know Jacob Cobb?" - -"I do--he's a--" - -"Do you know Jasper Cobb?" - -"I do--he's an--" - -"Do you know James Dalls?" - -"I do--he's a--" - -"Well, now; has Mr. Dieman decided to continue keeping company with -these people?" asked Edith, warming to her subject. - -"For what reason do you ask?" he asked, eyeing her closely, so much so -that Edith was discomfitted by his sharp stare. - -"It is a matter that concerns me personally, Miss Barton here, and my -father," she answered. - -"That's not very informing," he replied. - -"Do you know Mr. John Winthrope, my father's former secretary?" she -asked. - -"I never saw him--don't recall that I ever heard of him--yes, believe -so--didn't Mr. Dieman speak to me once about him? (asking himself)--yes, -believe he did. Well, what of him?" - -"Do you know whether Mr. Dieman bears ill-will against him yet?" - -"Let me see," said Eli, now in a cogitating tone, still with his chin -upon his hands still on top of his cane, but lowering his eyes to the -floor; "he never mentioned him but once, and then in connection -with--let me see--what?--with your father as secretary, sometime -ago--got a phone?" he asked suddenly, now disposed toward being -cautiously communicative. - -"Yes; do you wish to use it?" asked Edith. - -"I would like to before going farther in this talk. Where is it?" - -Edith then led the way to the phone room, Eli following, with his hat -still on his head, to the disgust even of the servants. - -"I wish to be private," he said to Edith and Star, seeing they were -inclined to linger near. - -"As you wish," they returned, departing and closing the door behind -them. - -After finishing his phoning, Eli emerged from the room, and strode -through the dining room and on through to the drawing room, whistling a -ditty, with his plug hat cocked back on his head, swinging his cane -round and round, like one out walking for pleasure. He resumed his seat -as before, with the ladies as his examiners. - -"Well?" said Edith. - -"He says he has no ill-will against Mr. Winthrope any more; and requests -me to take steps necessary to right any wrong against him. What's your -wish?" - -"Before I go farther," said Edith, "may I ask you if it is Mr. Dieman's -purpose to remain the go-between in the graft system, of which Mr. Cobb -is the head?" - -"He's making an effort to break from the gang--he's been making the -effort ever since he married; but it's hard to let go," said Eli, -casting an admiring glance at Star. - -"Now, then; as to my wish, Mr. Jerey," said Edith, trying to get his -eyes away from Star; "I want you to assist me and my father to break up -the ring; in a quiet manner, if possible; if not quietly, then by law." - -"What's your object, mainly?" he asked. - -"To get such men as Monroe and his dupes and old Mr. Cobb into the -toils. These men have not been satisfied in working the graft system -for all they are worth, but they have been plotting for months against -me and my father. Can I depend on you?" - -"You can. But what has Mr. Winthrope to do with it?" - -"That is a part of the plot against my father and me." - -"Still I can't see--but never mind, I know the other fellers well, and -will help you." - -"First, get Mr. Dalls back from Europe, and--" - -"Say, miss," he broke in, "how did you know all this and these men?" - -"Dieman communicated the information to Miss Barton, and she to me." - -"Ha!" he ejaculated, and then subsided into a quiet turn for a few -moments. "He did, eh?" he proceeded; "then I know he'll approve anything -I agree to here. Understand, I only carry information between Mr. Dieman -and the lower men." - -"I understand," said Edith. - -"I will get Mr. Dieman to throw them all overboard soon as I can get my -hooks to going," he replied, rising. "Where is Mr. Winthrope?" - -"In New York," replied Edith, rising also, and standing awkwardly by -waiting for him to move. - -"I don't understand where he comes in?" said Eli, as he placed his cane -between his arms behind his back, and spraddling out his legs, with his -hat cocked back. - -"That is another matter," said Edith, attempting to pass it over. - -"I am very busy," he said, half-whistling a tune, then drawing his legs -together and whirling round on one foot, he directed his eyes upon Star, -and remarked: "You are so much poortier than your sister May; and this -young lady (turning to Edith) is poortier than all the rest," after -which he smiled broadly, showing his good teeth. - -It was rather a delicate moment for the young ladies. It was hard to -reprove him, when they had solicited his aid in their great undertaking. -Star was vexed. Edith was disappointed in him, for she expected that he -would show a little more solicitude for her affairs than he showed in -his actions and answers to her questions. She drew down her dark brows -when he spoke as he did, feeling indignant, and looking at him sharply, -said: - -"Mr. Jerey, that is very impolite in you." - -"Oh, my! beg your pardon!" he said, with an innocent smile. "I am so -used to talking to my own sisters when I go home that I really forgot -where I was. If you will pardon me, I will go? and not do it any -more--but that's my opinion." - -As he concluded his apology he simmered down as to smile, looked serious -after seeing the ladies were provoked, struck the toe of his patents -with his cane, set his hat squarely upon his head, crossed his legs, put -his hands in his pockets, with the cane under his right arm, smiled -again, resumed a correct form of standing, expecting the while to hear -the ladies go on with their scolding. But as they did not say any more, -he turned round, and walked out as straightly as a West Pointer on -parade, opened the door himself, and let himself out. After closing the -door behind him, he stepped to the piazza, and stopped on the edge of -it, gawking around like a country lout. - -He was nothing of the kind, being absolutely indifferent as to what -people thought of him, or as to how he acted, so long as he was not -immorally sensitized. He was playing his part in the drama of a great -city's life, and playing it excellently; so what did it matter, if the -sticklers for formality were shocked. - -Going down the long walk through the Jarney grounds, with frosted -incandescents throwing fantastic shadows about him, he whistled -something that sounded like a hot time in the old town--sometime soon. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV. - -MONROE IS CAUGHT IN A NET OF HIS OWN WEAVING. - - -Ever efficient and ever advancing, though the time since he left his -mountain home was short, John Winthrope had pressed onward and upward -till he was not only the assistant treasurer in the New York office, but -stood high in the favor of the heads of the great firm; and, if he -continued on his outlined course, promised to enjoy still further favors -and special privileges. His rapid rising, his pecuniary uplift, his -progress in favor, his increasing enjoyment of privilege, his continuing -prosperity, did in nowise diminish his sense of duty, nor beguile him -from that course which he had laid out to follow when he first became -obsessed with the idea of making his mark in the world of finance, as -seen through the eyes of steel and iron. - -During all the months, dreary though they were, that he went through in -the city of Pittsburgh, he continued to live, according to his own -adopted code, at the cheap lodging house in Diamond alley. The -emoluments of his position, handsome though they might be considered for -one so young as he, and for one so new in the ranks of the employed, -were not any more compensatory than the allotments, as per schedule of -bills to be met, demanded. For, after paying for his simple lodging, his -small personal requirements, and sequestering a sum for the inevitable -rainy day, he sent the balance to his parents to assist them in the -liquidation of a debt of purchase on their home in the hills beyond the -roar and turmoil of business; to which home he hoped to go sometime, an -ever present dream, to spend his leisure days, or to rest when the -burdens of life should become too great for his shoulders to carry. - -Being steadfast of purpose, and retired in a social way, he had it over -other men in his unquenchable ambition to make good--in that, instead of -idling away his time in questionable company, as so many such young men -do, or loafing about clubs being a good fellow at a high cost, he -enlarged his knowledge of the details of business by utilizing his spare -moments in courses of suitable studies, in which he exercised his -energies and ability to their utmost. - -After being transferred to his new post, he did not change his plans, -even though his compensation was enhanced to a surprising and very -agreeable amount; nor did he deviate one iota from his habits of living. -He did one thing, however, which is pardonable and commendable, and that -was to dress as became his office with a much more satisfactory and -becoming taste. Blessed with good looks, a frank, open countenance, a -finished polish, and a natural grace, any personal adornment was -befitting to him. In his case, the clothes did not make the man, but the -man made the clothes, as is often true in some men and women. By gradual -degrees, his cheap shop clothes, as they gave way to the ravages of -wear and time, were displaced by stylish modern cuts, tailored and -otherwise; but this only happened as wages increased and exigencies -demanded. - -So he may now be seen at his desk in a neatly fitting business suit of -dark serge, with creases in the trousers, and his coat collar always -clean of dandruff and falling hair. His shirt fronts were the nattiest, -his collars the whitest, his ties the neatest, his shoes the highest -polished of anyone in the office. With his dark-brown hair, clear blue -eyes, fair skin, smooth face and dark eyebrows, he could well be envied -by those less gifted. - -Still, with all these characteristics, he was the least reconciled to -his lot. In March he was called upon to take his leave for New York. In -March he was compelled to take leave of the sick young woman, whom he -had visited every day without a break for months by force of the most -unusual circumstances that ever came to a young man, or to any man, -perhaps. He had become so accustomed to these daily visits to Edith's -bedside, and had become so fraught with the most formidable fire of -life, that when the final day came round, he seemed to have buried the -object before his going, and lived in a perpetual dream thereafter, -still perplexed and confounded by a mystery. - -Edith was not yet well when he last looked upon her face; but signs of -improvement were ever growing brighter. This is what gave him such pain -of heart--the thought that he had to leave when the time had come for -him to see her in her reason. But still, he thought, perhaps it was for -the best. For was she not laboring under an hallucination, a delusion, a -wild estrangement of the senses? And, of course, when she came to -herself, he would, by virtue of the natural laws of caste, have to go -his own way after all, and find solace for his passion in some other -person less worthy. It was better, thought he, that he was away--so far -away that he should never see her again; and time, the sure healer of -all ills, of all regrets, of all sorrows, of all misery, would bind his -wounds from the harrowing effects of proud flesh. He could never hope, -was his everlasting complaint, to vie with other men in the conquest of -her heart. So why fret away his time on such an improbable question? -Seeing all these things in this light, and believing in them seriously -and honorably, he exerted his best endeavors to cast the burden from -his soul. But the burden was too heavily laden to be so easily thrust -aside. - -He had not heard from her since the last evening he left her -home--except on one occasion, when a letter from her father to another -member of the firm in the branch office, indirectly referred to her -improving condition. This was all--a very slim thread it was upon which -to build any hope that she, in her enlightening mind, ever again called -for him, which seemed proof sufficient to convince him of his -preconceived opinion. - -But--why? but--why? he always asked himself, did she make such an -impression on him, unless he had struck, in her heart, a responsive -chord. No matter how he reasoned, he invariably got back to the premises -of his theme, namely, that he could not hope for any recognition on her -part so long as their stations in life were miles and miles apart. - -He had spent many days on this unsolvable proposition, in all its -various phases, and was still weighing it in his mind, even while busily -engaged at his desk, when, one day, Miram Monroe was announced, and led -into his office with all those outrageous formalities that flunkies -about such offices show to their superior beings, who have the brains -and money to conduct gigantic industrial corporations. Mr. Winthrope was -surprised more than he felt able to express himself; but he -good-humoredly extended his hand and saluted him with a cheerful, "How -are you? and how are all the people back in old Pittsburgh," meaning, of -course, the people only in the main office. - -Mr. Monroe was as stoical as ever, but he greeted John with considerable -more cordiality than had been his wont. "They are all prospering," he -answered, as he glanced around the room. - -John watched him closely, in a critical way, having in mind the telegram -he had received the day previous from Mr. Jarney that said, "Beware of -Monroe." John did not fully understand the meaning of this telegram; but -he read its significance in the face of the man standing now before him, -which, as he then looked at it, presented a mixture of tragedy, comedy, -treachery and sculduggery. He saw these traits now in Monroe, not that -his face had presented them to him on any other occasion, but the -telegram had revealed to him too forcibly what he could not before -comprehend. Why did Mr. Jarney send it, if the coming of Monroe was not -for some insidious purpose? he asked himself. - -"You do not often come to New York, Mr. Monroe--at least, not to this -office," said John, breaking the ice for a plunge into Mr. Monroe's -perverseness toward a hateful silence. - -"Not often," he answered, extracting some papers from an inside coat -pocket. He began deliberately to run over these papers, as if looking -for a particular one. Finding one that seemed to meet his searching -approval, he drew up a chair to a desk in the middle of the room and sat -down, still very deliberately, with his eyes bent upon the paper that he -held in his hand. - -Concluding that Monroe was not willing to be communicative about his -errand, John sat down at his own desk. Scrutinizing Monroe from a side -view, he saw it was the same face that was so indefinable to him in his -apprenticeship in the head office; the same lengthened visage that then -struck him so forcibly as that of a mountebank, clothed in undeserving -power; the same white, wrinkleless skin that reminded him perpetually of -a true portraiture of a ghost. John sat spell-bound, drawn irrisistably -to this peculiarly eccentric man. - -Monroe sat pouring over his papers, as if it had been his custom to come -there every day and do the same thing, unbelievably composed in his -manner. To John, there was a mephistophelean aspect about Monroe, as he -sat at the desk, apparently in the throes of some abstruse problem that -he could not readily make out. But, however, after awhile Monroe seemed -to have reached a solution of what he was delving into, and directly -turned and faced John, with his usual inane stare. - -"Mr. Winthrope," said he, with no change in the monotonous enunciation -of his words, so precise did he give utterance to them, "there seems to -be an error in your accounts, which indicates a shortage in this -office." - -"An error! A shortage!" gasped John, as if he had been stabbed from -behind with a dagger. - -"Yes;" answered Monroe very slowly, very mouse-like, very aggravatingly, -"a shortage--or an error." He straightened up in his chair, after saying -this, to see the effect of his assertion in John's countenance. - -Recovering his composure in a moment or so, John drew down his eyebrows -to a scornful straightness, and glared at his accuser. John was not very -often convertable to such an exhibition of temper; but when his name and -his honor were brought under reproach, his resentment became visibly -uncontrollable. - -"Do you mean, Mr. Monroe," said John, looking straight into his -gray-green eyes, "that I am short in my accounts with this office?" - -"That is my intimation," replied the insinuating Monroe, opening his -mouth squarely at the emphasizing of "my". "I have been sent here to -have a reckoning with you." - -The very bluntness of his statement was so monstrous to John, that he -could not, for a short time, comprehend what it meant for him. The very -essence of the assertion was too much for his grasp, so horrified was he -for the few moments that he sat facing the serene detractor of his -character. The very thought of such a crime was so contrary to his -nature, that he was almost blind from the sensations of the blow -coursing through him. - -"Are you in earnest? or are you here to jest with me, Mr. Monroe?" asked -John, rousing himself to face the inevitable. - -"I am in dead earnest," answered Monroe. - -"Then you," responded John, weighing his words, "lie--or some one -else--is lying--for--you." - -"Don't get agitated and go off half-cocked," said Monroe, in the same -icy tone as before. "I'll show to you, in due time, where you have been -peculating." - -At first, John was on the point of taking physical issue with the -challenger of his good name; but remembering the significant telegram -from Mr. Jarney, and remembering also that he was at a disadvantage with -Monroe over the question of fact, he subdued his passionate feelings, -and thought he would parley for time to await the coming of Mr. Jarney -before long. - -"Some one has been doctoring the books," said John, smoothly, "if there -is an apparent defalcation. I know what I have been doing, Mr. Monroe. -My cash has balanced each day. My accounts in this office are straight, -Mr. Monroe. I am straight, Mr. Monroe. You are crooked. And I will have -no more from you till my superiors have been consulted." - -"Well, Mr. Winthrope," responded Monroe to John's asseveration, "I am -the auditor of the firm for this office, and I am to be consulted first. -According to our books you are short. I was, therefore, sent here to -have an accounting with you, and if I find that our books are correct -and your accounts wrong, I am to have a warrant issued for your arrest. -Believe me, Mr. Winthrope, when I say that I find an error which -indicates peculating on your part. I do not want to see your name -blackened by an exposure that would naturally follow should I take it in -my head to proceed against you. I have a free hand to act any way I -choose, be that what it may. Now, I can fix this matter up for you so -that no word of it will get out, and so that you can leave with money in -your pockets, and mine, and no one will be the wiser. I can compromise -the matter by you being reasonable. Will you be reasonable and enter -into my scheme?" - -John was surely astounded at this long speech of Monroe's. He studied a -short moment. He did not want to compromise himself with Monroe in any -scheme that, if he were guilty, would cover up the crime with which he -was charged. If he was found to be responsible for any shortage, he was -fully willing to take the consequences which arrest and exposure might -entail, rather than attempt to clear himself of the blame, if blamable. -But not being guilty, as he had good reason to believe, he held that -justice, unless mercilessly blind, would deal fairly with him. Moreover, -he would be making a mistake if he did not draw Monroe out, and secure -from him his plan of a secret compromise. - -"How would you propose compromising the matter, if I am guilty?" he -asked. - -"By leaguing with you," answered Monroe, artlessly. - -"Leaguing with me?" said John, doubtful of his meaning. - -"Yes," he answered. "I have a draft here for one hundred thousand, made -payable to the treasurer of the New York office. You can get the money -yourself by signing it as assistant treasurer. Get it, and we will -divide the amount. I will fix the books at the other end so that a -discovery cannot be made till we are safely in Europe or South America. -Will you do it?" - -A new idea came to John, growing on him gradually as Monroe unfolded his -nefarious scheme. - -"Yes; I will do it," he answered, with alacrity. "Where is the draft?" - -Monroe immediately pulled the draft from an inside pocket of his vest. -He looked it over, as if he regretted to give it up; then he turned it -over to John, with a hesitating hand. - -"Get the money," said Monroe, without an intimation that he was pleased, -or not pleased, over the readiness with which John seemed to be falling -into his trap. - -John leisurely put the draft with a number of other drafts he had in his -possession belonging to the firm, placed them all together in the firm's -bank book, and retreated, without a word, from the enervating -personality of Monroe. After depositing the entire sum in the name of -the firm, he returned to the office to report to Monroe. - -"That is rather a crude piece of business, Mr. Monroe," said John, as he -entered the office. Standing with folded arms on the opposite side of -him at the flat-top desk, he gave a laugh, and smiled sarcastically, as -he said: "Crude! I should say; so crude that it smells of rusted iron!" - -Monroe looked up nonplused at the haughty and sneering tone of his -inferior; but he showed no irritation. - -"Did you get the money?" asked Monroe, blandly. - -"I did," answered John, good naturedly. - -"Well, divide up," said Monroe, having doubts. - -"Oh, I forgot to return with it, Monroe," replied John, as he laughed in -his superior's face. "I placed it to the credit of the firm. Believing -there was no hurry about dividing up, and thinking tomorrow would do as -well as today for that little formality, I changed my mind between here -and the bank. The money will keep where it is, Mr. Monroe." - -The door of the office opened. The form of Mr. Jarney stood in it for a -brief time. Then he closed the door and stood inside the room. He did -not advance at once. As Mr. Monroe saw him first, his face took on a -yellow pallor. John noticed the change in the coloring of his marbled -visage, and turned about. Seeing who the intruder was, he took a few -steps across the room, and lively grasped his former master by the hand. - -"Glad to see you, Mr. Jarney; very glad," said John. - -Mr. Jarney, in turn, greeted John very warmly, and said he was -inexpressively happy to see him looking so robust, and hoped that he -was still the same unpolluted young man as when he first met him. All of -which abashed John so that he blushed. - -"Did you get my telegram?" he asked John, yet not turning to greet -Monroe, who sat without a tremor at the desk. - -"Yes; I have been looking for you all day," replied John. "Here is Mr. -Monroe," he said, as he turned and waved his hand toward that brazen -piece of trickery. - -"Yes; yes; I see Mr. Monroe," said Mr. Jarney, shooting his sharpened -glances at him. "I came here to see about some little tricks he is up -to. What have you accomplished, Mr. Monroe?" - -"Aren't you laboring under a misapprehension, Mr. Jarney?" asked the -ghost. - -"Oh, not at all, Mr. Monroe," said Mr. Jarney. "I have found you out. I -came here to beard you before this young man," rising almost to the -angry point in the vehemence of his threat. - -"Why, Mr. Jarney," said the lamentable Monroe, "what have I done that -you, whom I have always served so faithfully, should hurl aspersions -upon my name and cast reflections upon my integrity?" - -"Your name and integrity!" said Mr. Jarney, with rising voice. "You -haven't either. Where is that draft and those office books? Turn them -over immediately to Mr. Winthrope here for safe keeping." - -"I have already deposited the draft," interrupted John. "Mr. Monroe -proposed to me that we cash it and divide the money. I assented--of -course not. He has accused me of being short in my accounts. But he -lies--I am not afraid of an investigation, Mr. Monroe." - -"Is this true, Mr. Monroe?" asked Mr. Jarney, fiercely, and piercing him -through and through with his firmness. - -Mr. Monroe cowered before Mr. Jarney's rage, like an abject criminal -brought to the confession stage of his stricken conscience, but as blank -as ever. - -"Is this true, Mr. Monroe?" demanded Mr. Jarney again, still upbraiding -him by his fierce tone. - -"I am afraid it is," responded Monroe, meekly, with a crestfallen tone, -but no change in his countenance. - -"I am very sorry for you, Mr. Monroe," said Mr. Jarney, relentingly. "I -was infuriated with you a moment ago, and meant to be harsh; but now all -that I can say is, that you deserve my pity. Ingratitude is the worst of -all mean traits, Mr. Monroe. My advice to you, coupled with my -injunction, is that you hasten to the Pittsburgh office, close up your -accounts and leave the employment of the firm, taking the other two -dupes with you. You may go now. I have no further use for you here." - -Mr. Monroe sat dumbly under this withering dressing up; but he was -obdurate in his inexpressiveness. Taking Mr. Jarney's cue, he arose, put -on his hat, and departed, without a farewell to either one. - -That was the last they ever saw of poor Monroe, alive. His body was -found next day on a muddy shore, where the sewer rats fight among -themselves for a share of the food that the foul sewage spews out with -its bile. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. - -THE CHIEF GRAFTER IS FOREWARNED AND GOES TO EUROPE. - - -Jacob Cobb, the big boss, sat in his easy chair, surrounded by his -spendthrift family, with whom he was communing on the glories of that -fame which money brings to those who earn not, nor spin. - -It was a bright evening in May, with a red sun setting through the upper -haze on the horizon, and throwing back through the windows of his -mansion a fiery glare, like the gleam of a blast furnace permeating the -density of the pall that ever hangs over the valleys skirting the hills -to either side. Had he, or they, or any of them, been of a meditative -turn, the evening scene might have been likened to the scenes that -surround the tempestuous lives of those who toil and dwell where the -counterpart of the sun, in this comparison, holds sway throughout the -day and night. - -But as they were not of a meditative turn, they never saw the black old -buildings of the workmen, as grimy as the squat old mills themselves -spouting fire from thousands of smoke-stacks, all huddled together in -the narrow ways and defiles, like so many barbarous places of -habitation, with sooty walls and streaked window panes, and fuming -chimney tops, and nowhere scarcely a sign of vegetation to brighten up -the dull tones of the desolation. They never saw the grim-visaged, -hard-fisted, half-naked men, sweating blood, almost, subjecting the -native element of iron to the changing process of the caves of fire, -before which they worked and strained their energies to produce the -finished product that made it possible for men like Cobb to live in -splendor. They never saw the simple homes, the poor homes, the -impoverished homes of some of these workmen; or their children in their -styles, their plays, their sports, their love-making, their dutifulness -to parent, their respect for law, or their shortcomings; nor heard their -ambitious cry; nor saw their cheerful endeavors to improve their worldly -affairs; nor saw the blight of poverty, nor the curse of rum. They saw -nothing, save the rolling smoke from the factory fires which the poor -man teased; and, even though it brought them plenty, it gave them long -periods of annoyance that they had to endure it. They only saw the -setting sun, in that direction, going down into a tarnished sky. But -they saw, in the iridescence of their surroundings, the gloat of pomp, -the pride of power, the sen-sen of gayety, the joy of lust, the glib of -society, the whirl of scandal--the right to graft. - -Jacob Cobb was at ease, if ever there was a man in such a heaven of -exalted purification, as he sat in his easy chair on this evening. It -was the time of his domestic enjoyment, in which no one ever took more -delight, the divorce scandal talk to the contrary notwithstanding; and -this is one thing to his credit, if he should have credit for anything -he has done in this world. Money was his God. Not being competent to -amass a fortune, had he applied his talents in genuine business, he, -early in life, became a petty politician. Starting as an election board -clerk, he ascended the winding stairs of a ward heeler up the many -flights till he reached the chief seat in the inner chamber of the -Temple of the Bosses, and there he reigned--till he should be dethroned -by an aroused public conscience. - -He was now in the hey-day of his power, and he ruled with a clenched -fist; albeit, at times, he heard temblors below him that might become -powerful enough to shake him from his seat. Through a College of -Embasies, with Peter Dieman as the dean, he worked the system through -the tortuous windings of every channel of business, collecting his -tiths as Pharoah collected his charges on his garnerings in the seven -years of famine, with about as pitiless a hand. And these tithings were -heavy. They poured into the System's exchequer from every source, like -the waters that flowed by the city of his birth to form the La Belle -Reviere; but, unlike that stream, which flowed to a bigger sea, they -stopped at Cobb's gate to enter silently into his dark pool to disappear -via an unseen outlet. - -Jacob, not being wholly satisfied with what was clandestinely coming his -way, connived at other schemes to perpetuate the inflow to his coffers; -which was to his shame. The worst of which of his many other designs, -was to marry his children to rich men or women, and divide the loot, if -money may be christened, in this instance, by that pelfic name. Susanna, -the eldest, and Marjorie, the youngest of his two daughters, were -already bargained for by two young scions of the rich who had no more -reputation to hang to them than discarded touts of the underworld; but -their daddies had money, and that counted for much, while innocence had -to suffer. But there was Jasper yet, his own young hopeful, past the age -of twenty-six, and not yet disposed of. A glimpse into that young man's -character has been given in a previous chapter, so here it will suffice -to say that he was a profligate of the evilest sort. And Jacob wanted -him to capture Edith Jarney! God forbid such a union! Purity joined to -degradation in holy wedlock? Not if Edith Jarney knew her mind; for it -would be unholy wedlock. Mrs. Cobb was equally as mercenary with her -children as their father. She it was that first proposed the horrid -scheme. She it was that taught them how to ensnare the victims marked -for their bows. She it was that led them to the idol that they were to -worship. She it was that schooled them in the ways of snobbery. And they -called her a doting mother. And Jacob willingly acquiesced. - -Those who teach that man is only a biological entity might find in such -sons and daughters good subjects for their experimentation, and prove -their theory by the aid of the divorce courts. - -"Jasper, it is time for you to make some headway with Miss Jarney," said -his doting mother, on this evening, as they all sat around their father -in his ease. - -Jasper, who had been sitting near in a despondently moping manner, -suddenly aroused himself to the importunate remark, and looked -disconsolate enough to arouse the sympathy of every one bent on -reforming young blades; for he had been out the night before, and showed -evidences of heavy dissipation. - -"Mother, you are always going on at me about Miss Jarney," he retorted. -"She's been sick for the past five months or more; I have seen her but -once, and then had no chance of seeing her alone." - -"Yes, dear Jasper, you must brace up, now, and make of yourself more of -a man, if you want to improve on your opportunity of winning such a -prize," said Jacob Cobb, with some disparaging sentiments in his tone. - -"Father, you too? Give me a chance, and when the opportunity arrives, I -shall propose," returned Jasper. - -"You should not lose a minute's time," said the mother, with faith. -"That man Monroe is out of the way now, and the other young man is too -poor for her to take in place of you. See your sisters! Both already -engaged, and soon to be married, yet both of them younger than you. You -are too slow in pursuit of such happiness. Why, you should have had it -settled long ago. Had I had my way about it, it would all have been over -with, and you two fixed comfortably in a house of your own, giving swell -dinners, balls and parties, eh, Jasper? Edith is a fine girl, and I know -she will be a good keeper of a house for you." - -"She is going to the mountains soon, mother, I am informed," said he, -with design; "and I have half a notion to go up there for awhile to get -away from my associates." - -"That's the thing! that's the thing!" exclaimed the father, delighted at -the prospect of getting the two together at some summer place. "Go it, -boy! go it, and push your suit." - -"How nice it would be, Jasper," said Susanna, with glee, "for you to get -away from the city for a time." - -"It would do you worlds of good, brother," assented Marjorie, "to get -away from the smoke awhile." - -"You know, Jasper, we had planned to go to Paris for the summer and take -you along; but we can spare your company this time," said the doting -mother, "if it will give you the opportunity to make good." - -This inane conversation anent Jasper's future was broken up by a -messenger appearing at the door, with a very urgent note from Peter -Dieman, requesting Jacob Cobb to come to his mansion without delay. -Jacob responded without delay, and was soon sitting by the throne of -that spectacular king, who still was wearing his mandarin robe, fez-like -cap, and smoking another vile cigar. - -"Have you heard the latest, Jacob?" asked Peter, when Jacob was seated -comfortably blowing up clouds of white vapor in corresponding rings with -Peter's smoke-stack. - -"No," answered Jacob, with no uncommon concern. - -"Well, be prepared to hear the worst--Jim Dalls is back from Europe, and -is going to squeal on us," said Peter, with as little concern as Cobb at -first appeared to show. - -"No!" exclaimed Jacob, with a cloud on his face that was sufficient -almost to obscure the smoke from his cigar. - -"It is true," said Peter, still unconcerned. "He was here this evening." - -"What brought him back?" said Jacob. - -"Run out of funds, he said," said Peter, blowing smoke with much -complacency. - -"Couldn't you send him any more?" asked Jacob. - -"I sent for him," said Peter, now looking at Jacob with an air of -supercilious gravity. - -"God man! what do you mean? Do you mean to ruin us all?" shouted Jacob, -excitedly. - -"Be calm, Jacob; be calm, and save your nerves for what is coming," said -Peter, gently. "He came by my request, and is to make a confession -before the grand jury--at my request, too. So if you want to save your -old bacon, pull down your shaky house of graft and hit the trail for -Europe; for you will be the first one caught in the net, Jacob." - -"Oh, Lord man! What do you mean? This is awful! This is horrid! This is -terrible! Exposed by my chief deputy like that! I'll never forgive you, -Peter! Never! And when it blows over, I shall return and cook you a dish -that you won't relish!" cried Jacob, now in a frenzy of excitement. - -"Why, I am safe from harm," said Peter, calmly. - -"What did you do it for?" asked Jacob, in great anger. - -"To be plain to you, sir, I may state that that's my business," said -Peter, cooly. - -"Then, we part enemies?" asked Jacob, with a daggerous look. - -"We do--if you want to; but, Jacob, you'd better take my humble advice, -and go to Europe as quick as you could skin a cat. You know the whole -thing will come out anyway when that bank affair is known, which I am -assured will be exploded soon, and then the whole shooting match will be -busted." - -"You had better call on heaven to help you, Peter, when I return--if I -go," said Jacob, rising, and leering down upon the king, who sat looking -at the floor now, in quiet thought. - -"I am not afraid of you, or any one else, Jacob," responded Peter, -looking up. "I am a domesticated man now, Jacob, and intend to enjoy the -rest of my days right here, in this house, with my wife and ten -children." - -"You scamp!" hissed Jacob, snarling down upon him, like one dog snarls -at another dog with the prize bone. - -"Take my advice, Jacob, and go home," said Peter, looking sidewise at -Jacob. "You'd better be there packing your grip than standing here -calling me hard names. Europe is the safest place for you for the next -ten years; so go. I can take care of myself." - -"Things have come to a nice pass," said Jacob, "when a man can't enjoy -the comforts of a home in this age without every upstart wanting to -interfere in his business!" - -"It's a nasty business that of yours," said Peter, remorselessly. "I've -been tired of it for a long time, and wanted my chance to get out. The -chance has come, and I am getting." - -"You are an ingrate," replied Jacob, wrathfully. "Being entrenched -yourself with safety lines thrown out, so that no one can invade your -private affairs, you care nothing for your friends who have divided with -you for years. An ingrate! An ingrate, I repeat, Peter! I shall go, and -may those vapid detectives who have been here for months trying to make -a break in our lines, find you out, and help to punish you." - -"Oh, that's all right, Jacob," said the suave Peter. "I know all about -their work in this city; but I am beyond their reach. So go, if you -don't want to be pinched within a week. Go, I say, to Europe, and maybe -you can enjoy life there; and while you are doing it, think of me -sometimes, just for old friendship's sake, and take an extra drink on -the side for me--that's all. I shall never forget you till my last -breath is gone; and I shall never forget the words you have just now -said to me, and what impression they have left upon me. Go! Jacob; go! -that I may be done with you; that's all." Peter concluded this speech, -without either smoking, rubbing or squinting. - -"Good night," said Jacob, leaving the king's throne; and the two old -cronies in legalized crime (for that is what graft is, nothing more), -parted forever. - -"Good bye," were the last words that Peter said to him; but Jacob did -not hear them, so blind was he in his rage when he stepped out into the -cool night air to take up his return to his home again to seek solace in -the bosom of his family. - -Arriving home, Jacob put his family into a wild uproar when he told them -of the result of his visit to Peter Dieman. - -"Well, we were going to Europe anyway," said Mrs. Cobb, as a consoling -climax to her bewailment. "It is good that I informed our friends of -this trip, so they will now be none the wiser. The wedding of the two -young ladies can come off in September, as planned. I can return for -that, and you can remain in Europe--ill, perhaps. And Jasper need not -postpone his expedition into the mountains, you see." - -"No, Jasper; you must not fail in that," said Cobb, still unable to give -up any of his schemes, so fascinating were they all to him yet, "as I -will be compelled to remain for some length of time. If you fail, our -fortunes may be somewhat impaired as a result of all this trouble. So -don't fail, my boy." - -"Oh, I'll win; don't despair, father, for me; I'll win," said Jasper, -hopefully, with more interest than ever now in getting a wife with -money. - -So to Europe Jacob Cobb and his family betook themselves, leaving young -Jasper at home, as agreed, to sport awhile with the vixenish little -Cupid. Punctilious, as on every other such occasion of the going of such -people, the Sunday newspapers, in their society columns, gave a glowing -account of the departure of Mr. and Mrs. Cobb and their two daughters -for Europe to spend the season (or several seasons it might have been) -in Paris; and probably, if not otherwise detained, to Baden-Baden, or -to some other noted place, purportedly for the benefit of Mr. Cobb, who -(poor man) had been in poor health for months past. - -Mercy on us! - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. - -ELI JEREY AT THE DIEMAN HOME. - - -Dressed as on the great occasion when he visited Miss Jarney, Eli Jerey -called at the home of Peter Dieman but a short ten minutes after Jacob -Cobb had left in such a bad temper. Peter was in his jolliest frame of -mind, and was still having jerks of felicitation over his fine stroke in -besting Jacob Cobb, as he looked at it, when Eli floated into his -presence like a fluted lamppost with its light extinguished. Eli sat -down with his high hat on the top of his untutored head, as his only hat -rack, when Peter took up the thread of the subject about where he and -Jacob broke it in their slight misunderstanding. - -"When I told him to skip out, Eli, he flew the handle to beat all," said -Peter. "He threatened, if he ever returned, to cook a dish for me that I -would not relish." - -"Did he, though?" said Eli, raising his eyes to the level of Peter's. -"Now what kind of a dish could he cook for you, do you suppose?" - -"I suppose he refers to the street paving proposition," responded Peter. - -"Which one? Where the wooden blocks were used?" - -"I suppose so." - -"Well, Mr. Dieman, we might as well be honest now and say the truth -sometimes; but that was a very bad piece of jobbery for all connected -with it--even for the wood blocks, as you will see when a year has -passed." - -"How?" - -"In it, the city got its worst job, the contractors worser jobbed, the -grafters got jobbed good and plenty, and the wood blocks will be so -jobbed that you will not be able to find any in another turn of the sun -around the seasons." - -"But how will he connect me with it?" - -"He can't, Peter; he can't. I can swear that none of the money came to -you by the way of our office. It all went through Cobb's hands, and I -have the receipts." - -"Bully, boy! Bully for you! When I die, I will leave you the old shop -and all it holds. You have a slick head, Eli, for such things. Who'd -thought Jacob would have given his receipt?" - -"I forced it out of him. Told him: no receipt, no money." - -"I knew you'd fix it all right when I left it all to you. Why, boy, you -don't blame me for having confidence in you?--But Jim Dalls?" - -"Oh, he's to keep you out, as agreed, and is to go free on making his -confession, and sticking to it at the trial. I tell you, he'll fix a lot -of them high-ups and others who've been in the game so long they can't -believe but what they're honest and upright citizens." - -"Bully! Then all danger for me is over?" asked Peter, chuckling in such -a whimsical manner that Eli felt moved himself to get up and hammer him -on the back for fear he was choking on his good humor. - -"Over," returned Eli, decisively. - -"Good! Say Eli, I was only running a bluff on Cobb at first, when I said -they couldn't get me--I hear Monroe's dead?" - -"Deader'n a fried oyster since he jumped into the Hudson." - -"Poor Monroe, I always thought he would hang himself, if given enough -rope." - -"I am told Mr. Jarney has cleaned out the gang that helped Monroe in his -dirty work--that's what becomes of not being faithful to your job, like -I've always been, Mr. Dieman," moralized Eli. "Say, did I tell you about -seeing May's sister at the Jarneys?" - -"No; do tell me about it?" - -"Well, I saw her, that's all; and spoke to her, that's all--and my! -she's poorty; but I'll stick to May." - -"If I let you," said Peter, squinting his eyes, with a funny little -twinkle mixed in their movements. - -"Why, I came this very night to ask you, Mr. Dieman," said Eli, as an -opener to his subject. - -"Really, Eli? Impossible!" - -"What's impossible?" asked Eli, disheartened at the word "impossible." - -"That you came for that purpose," said Peter with a smile. - -"I did, sir; indeed, I did, Mr. Dieman," responded Eli, with much -feeling. - -"Well?" said Peter, with a bearish look. - -"May I have her?" blurted out Eli, as he snapped a piece of imaginary -lint from his angled knee with the index finger of his right hand. - -"Is she willin', Eli?" asked Peter, changing his tone. - -"She is," he responded, firmly. - -"You've made fine progress, my boy; but you'll have to ask her -moth--Kate--" turning his head as he shouted her name for his voice to -carry to where that lady sat in the parlor, in the distance, surrounded -by her squirming herd of youngsters--"come here!" - -Kate came, looking like a queen--in her "rags"--still bearing some of -her old sorrows in her lean face, now reduced to a pleasanter tone by -the artful hand of plenty. - -"This young man wants May; can you spare her?" said Peter, not giving -Eli a show at performing that part of his simple playing in courtship. -"I'll speak for him, Kate. He's a mighty good boy, and May might do a -thousand times worse." - -Eli sat like a docile lamb before the altar of matrimonial sacrifice, -humbly waiting his fate. Kate looked at him. He looked at Kate. Peter -looked at both. All silent. Intense was Eli's emotions--so tense that he -was like a pine board in the hot sun ready to warp with the intensity of -the heat that perforated the skin on his brow, sending forth scalding -globes of perspiration. - -"I re--I gu--how did you tell me to say it?" she said, turning to Peter -for intelligence on the right word. - -"May," answered Peter, rubbing. - -"I may--no, that's not it," she said, appealing to him. - -"You may!" suggested Peter again. - -"You may, Mr. Jerey," she said, finally hitting upon the proper phrase -that would express her answer. - -She had no more than uttered the word, than Eli leaped to his feet, -dropped his cane, and caught Mrs. Dieman in his sweeping arms, and -hugged her powerfully. It could not be told whether he exercised a son's -indubitable right to kiss her, for the very momentous reason that his -plug hat fell off at the critical moment when he appeared to be -performing that gracious act. But, in any event, his future -mother-in-law grunted from the grateful embracing that she underwent in -the clasp of Eli. Finding his prized and fashionable hat had toppled off -with imminent danger of being crushed by ruthless feet, he hastily -released her, picked up his hat, put it on his head again, with such -grandiloquent precipitation that he made things in the room look as if -they were going up in a whirlwind. - -After catching his breath, he glanced inquiringly toward the parlor. -There he saw May sitting in a very deep and richly decorated chair -perusing a novel, which she, since her coming out, had been taught was a -beautiful source of pastime for young ladies of noble families. But Eli -saw not the novel; neither did he see the pencil and tablet on May's -lap, with which she had been instructed to provide herself to jot down -the things that impressed her most when reading; nor did he see with -what beautiful material she was dressed. All that he saw was the plump -little face of May, a face that had no equal, to him; and all that she -saw was the tall Eli racing toward her, like a galloping giraffe, with -love-lit eyes, with grinning teeth, with plug hat on his head. Then-- - -"May! May! May!" - -The world turned upside-down, and he plunged headlong with May in his -arms, into the laughing stars that flecked his heaven of delight. - -In the sudden onrush, May dropped her novel, dropped her pencil, dropped -her note book; and Eli dropped his hat, which the youngest child -momentarily toddled to, and took his seat within it as contentedly as if -it had been placed there for his especial enjoyment. Eli minded nothing, -not even the cloud of children that rose around him like fairies in -astonishment at a bogie man come among them. - -But the whirlwind that Eli started soon abated, and its wreck and ruin -was more noticeable upon May than any one else; for, in his awkwardness, -he had loosened her hair, till it fell down around her waist, and mussed -her pink messaline till it needed ironing afresh, and caused a burning -place on the one cheek which he pressed so closely to the rough twill of -his coat collar, that she seemed to be aflame with indignation. She was -not indignant, however. Her little pout was only a sign of shame-faced -happiness brought about by the astonishing behavior of Eli in the -presence of her family; which she declared was shameful familiarity. - -"Why, May," said Eli, in support of his actions, "your mother says yes, -and your daddy says yes, and I say yes; now, what do you say--I don't -care who knows!" - -"I don't care what they say, you had no business to do it," she -answered, looking black at him, as she was brushing out some of the -wrinkle marks in her dress. - -"Is it yes, or no, May? Tell me quick, before I go hang myself!" he -cried in his anguish. - -"I haven't said no, Eli," replied May, as she attempted to put up her -hair, and blushing from ear to ear. - -"Is it yes, May?" said Eli, with eyes brightening. "I want to know." - -May glanced up pensively, with a hairpin between her lips cutting a -smile in two. - -"Yes," she answered, as the pin fell to the floor, and her hair -straggled down again. - -"I am happy, May," he replied; "now will you excuse me for my -impetuosity?" - -May was gathering up her hair again when Eli said this. She turned to -him with a smothered laugh, and remarked: "You are all right, Eli; I am -happy." - -Whereat, both being perfectly agreed as to their feelings and opinions, -Eli looked about for his hat, preparatory to taking his departure. - -"Well, Lord bless us! Look here, May!" he exclaimed, standing over the -youngster, sitting in his hat. - -Then, bursting into a loud guffaw, he stooped down, grasped the hat by -the side rims, and lifted it up, baby and all, and ventured forth to the -throne room. As he lifted the burden up before him, the baby laid hold -of his string necktie with one hand and his collar with the other, as a -support to his precarious position. In which position Eli, hat, and baby -proceeded, Eli singing a foolish ditty, till they arrived at Peter's -seat, by the side of whom sat Mrs. Dieman. - -Eli stood before them a moment that they might see the load and the -oddity of the situation of baby. They laughed; Eli laughed; baby -laughed. He swung the hat this way and that, up and down, and bounced -him a little. Eli blowed a tune of coo-coo at him, then whistled, and -sang snatches of songs, of all of which baby seemed highly appreciative, -judging from his looks. Then--the bottom fell out of the hat, and -through it, feet foremost, shot the baby like a stone, and fell in a -squalling bundle on the floor at Eli's feet. - -At the outcry that followed, all the other children came rushing in and -circled around the party; and laughed and clapped their hands in great -glee at the mishap to the baby and the hat. Eli picked up the crying -child, and stroked his hair, and cooed to him. The child placed his -little arms around Eli's neck, and sobbed till his grief was gone. And -this was the little child that touched his father's hard face with his -little hands, saying da-da; but perhaps he will never remember that day. - -Procuring a new hat from Peter, one that fit him illy, Eli tore himself -away from this man's dominions, encircled by Billy Barton's family, to -return some other day for a beautifully appointed wedding with his -beautiful May. - -The world may laugh and sneer at such as Eli Jerey; but, after all, in -such as he may be found the man who will make marriage a heaven to a -poor man's daughter, raised as she was in poverty, and lifted by chance -to a higher plane of living. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII. - -IT IS DECIDED TO SEND EDITH TO THE MOUNTAINS. - - -It was a morning in May. Happy birds sang in the tree tops, and flowers -speckled the green grass of the park with their variegated bloom. The -sun, the first for days, threw his lustrous light over the smoke -begrimed hills; the air, which a brisk wind from the north cleared, was -bracing in its freshness, and all creation was breaking into renewed -vitality at the touch of advancing spring. - -Edith, on the arm of Star, walked down a bypath bordered by nodding -Easter lilies, late in blooming, and watched the bounding butterflies -and plunging bees and hopping birds, and heard the call of nature in all -its thrilling voices. - -Life is beautiful and life is sweet, but what is life when the soul is -craving for that which cannot be had? The wind may sing to you in its -softest notes, the birds may send forth their enchanting rhapsodies, -the flowers may emit their most becalming fragrance, but what are they -to a spirit unanswered in its callings? The sun may shine ever so -brilliantly, the moon may beam in mellowing brightness, the stars may -twinkle in their deepest mysteries, but what are they when love is -crying out, with no responsive cry? Deep, deep, unanswerable is the -mystery. Edith asked the flowers, the birds, the bees; she felt the -soothing wind, heard the sweetening notes, and caught the lulling -scents, but they all gave back the answer--mystery! mystery! - -They walked the paths together, Edith and Star, arm in arm; they sat in -the cooling nooks, and whisperingly conversed; they let the wind play -with their locks, like playful fairies; they saw, they heard, they sang, -they laughed. But still, to Edith, there was that mystery ever hanging -over her--a blot to everything that should entrance her--a dim, dark, -cold, benumbing longing that paints frightful pictures from a -palpitating heart that gets no response to its secret throbs. Weary, -worn out, lagging, spiritless, because of her long illness and worry -over late happenings among her father's unfaithful employes, Edith got -no comfort now out of her home, or its surroundings. Pale still, and -nervous, her spirits ever flagged, even under the promptings of her dear -friend Star, who had been resorting to all her charms and graces to give -pleasure to the sick young lady that she might be diverted from her -moody spells. Edith was bright at times, and laughed and chatted like a -child under Star's cheerful influence; but more often she was -melancholy, and seemed never to be reaching that time when the shadow of -her malady would fall off. Music had no charms for her, nor books, nor -young company. Life was lifeless to her. The mansion was a dreary -castle. Her days were spent in wishing for night, and nights in wishing -for morning. All her mother's endearments, all her father's love, all of -Star's sweet companionship, were alike to her--unconsoling. The mother -was in despair, the father grief stricken, but Star, of all of them, had -hope. - -"Edith," said Star, this day, while standing by the pond watching the -leaping fountain and playful golden fish, and noting how quiet Edith -was. "I wrote to Mr. Winthrope yesterday." - -"Oh, Star," said Edith, with a deprecating frown, "I hope you have not -gone and forgotten yourself to such an extent that you have written -first?" - -"Forgot myself, Edith? Why, bless your heart, no; he wrote me first," -replied Star, with a merry laugh. - -"Wrote first?" asked Edith, in surprise. - -"Yes; he just did write first; and I told him that he was real mean in -not writing sooner," said Star. - -"What did he say?" asked Edith, gazing vacantly into the water. - -"About all he said was asking about your health. It is mean in him, I -repeat, that he said no more. He said, though, that when your father was -in New York, he told him you were fast improving." - -"What was your answer, Star?" - -"Oh, goodness! I wrote six pages, about everything, almost, and informed -him that--" - -"Now, Star; you didn't write anything that would be indiscreet, did -you?" - -"Why, deary, no, of course not; I only told him that you--" - -"Star, don't tell me that you have violated my confidence?" - -"I will not say what I wrote, Edith, if your are not more attentive. I -said that--" - -"Star! Star!" said Edith, with tears glistening in her eyes; "do not -tell me that you have broken your pledge; if you do, I shall -never--no--go on; what did you tell him?" - -"That you--that you are getting better very slowly, and that your father -will take you to the mountains for the summer. I told him everything -else, Edith, but that which you forbade me telling." - -"You are very prudent, Star. Will he write again, do you suppose?" - -"I wound up my letter with a P. S.: 'Don't forget to write!'" - -"You bad girl! I suppose he will be coming to see you sometime?" - -"Wish he would," said Star, hopefully, with a teasing expression in her -face. - -"Really, Star?" - -"Yes; I do--I'd turn him over to you," she responded, with a laugh. - -"You are a tease, now! If he comes, it must be of his own free will." - -"You are not looking well, Edith; we had better go in the house," said -Star, seeing the pallor of weakness coming over her face. - -"Assist me in," responded Edith, willingly submitting to Star's -admonition. As they were nearing the steps leading up to the great -piazza, Edith remarked that she would go to the mountains next day, if -able, with her father, and, of course, Star was to be her companion. - -"I was never out of the city," replied Star, "and I am wondering what -mountains look like. Can you tell me?" - -"Oh, they are only big hills." - -"Do people live there?" - -"Yes. Many people live in them. He came from up there somewhere." - -"From the mountains?" - -"Yes; from the mountains." - -"Then, we may see his home," said Star, suggestively. - -"We may; but the mountains are very large, Star--miles long and miles -wide, with dense woods everywhere and with but few roads through them, -and homes of farmers scattered about." - -"Oo-oo!" exclaimed Star. "We would not want to go far into them; we -might get lost. Do people live there?" - -"Yes. There are bears there, Star, and deer and owls; and many birds -live in the gloomy depths of the forests." - -"My!" exclaimed Star, alarmed. "I would not want to go out after night. -Where will we live when we go up there?" - -"In a big hotel on top of the mountains." - -"How fine! I can hardly wait till I see it all!" - -"Our trunks should be packed today, Star, for a two months' stay. Father -says I will be benefitted when I get out of the smoke of this city." - -"Is your father going with us?" - -"Oh, yes; but for a short stay only. He will visit us once a week -thereafter." - -"Won't that be fine, Edith; and we will get to see the mountaineers, and -maybe his home," said Star, with all that fullness of anticipation that -comes to one emancipated from a round of daily worry and abject -commonplaceness, as they reached the top of the flight of steps, up -which Star had been assisting Edith. - -Edith looked up into the face of Star with a smile, showing neither hope -nor doubt, but full of that wearying pain that leaves a sore upon the -heart. - -"It will be very pleasant, no doubt, Star," returned Edith; "but I am so -weak that I am afraid I cannot enjoy anything. How kind and good you are -to me," and Edith glanced up with tears; "you take so much pains in -comforting me, and wishing for my welfare. I would be lost, dear Star, -if it were not for you--lost--utterly lost," and the poor nerve-wrecked, -distracted little Edith fell into Star's arms through utter exhaustion. - -Edith was carried to her room, and restoratives were administered. The -contemplated journey was therefore postponed for a week to await her -recuperation. The weeks passed, and Edith was still no better. Nobody -saw her condition. Nobody quite understood what it was. They were all -blind. - -Lying on her bed one day, when the sun was shining, and the fragrance of -the flowers and the songs of the birds came in the open window as a -caressing wave of sympathy, Edith was roused from her unpleasant -meditations by her father, who came in to see her. Sitting down by her -bed, the father took up one hand of his child and petted it, with his -eyes full of the tears of his abiding grief. - -"Edith, dear," he said, with his voice full of emotion, "do you think -you can now withstand the trip to the mountains?" - -"I think I will be just as well off here, papa," she answered, faintly -and indifferently. - -"If you are able, we will go at once, dear," said the father, noticing -how low her spirits were, and wishing to do anything that would tend to -revive them. "I believe a change of air and scenes will do you good. Do -you think you can make the trip?" - -"I will try, papa--any place; any place--it makes no difference, papa. I -am so weak all the time, papa, that I am--" - -"Don't; don't, Edith, my dear child," he said, with anguish in his kind -heart, and parental remorse on his conscience. "You would not have been -in this state, pet, had you not become so wrought up over that Monroe -affair, I know; and I am to blame for being so blind, so blind--so--" - -The father laid his head in his hands on the bed, and wept; and as he -wept, Edith laid her hand upon his head, and smoothed down his ruffled -hair. "Dear, papa," she said, "dear papa, don't cry for me; I will get -better." - -"Edith," said her father, raising his head, "I have sent for Mr. -Winthrope to return to my office to become my chief assistant. I expect -him here today, Edith. Shall I have him out for dinner?" - -Edith gave a nervous start, and for the first time in days her little -heart beat faster, and a color mounted to her pallid cheeks. - -"Do as you like, papa; I shall be glad to see him, if he comes to my -room," answered Edith. "When did you say you would take me to the -mountains?" - -"Tomorrow, if you are well enough." - -"I will go, papa." - -That evening John came, and ate dinner with the family. Instinctively he -felt the great veil of sorrow, of fear, of dread, of worry, of sadness -that brooded over the household. Strong, healthy, handsome, mannerly, -John seemed to have brought a new ray of sunshine with him that was -absent there before. His pleasing conversation, his cheerful smile, his -hearty laugh, his quick wit in repartee flooded every department of the -mansion--even into the cook's chamber, where was sung that evening -love-songs of youth long suppressed by the weighty forebodings of the -coming of the White Horse and his rider. - -"Mr. Winthrope," said the bouncing Mrs. Jarney, now less demonstrative -of her spirits by her long siege of fretting, "it seems so natural to -have you here. I told Mr. Jarney just the other day that I wished you -could come out occasionally to see us, for you were always such pleasant -company." - -"I don't know whether to take that as a compliment or a pretty piece of -flattery, Mrs. Jarney," responded John. "I am sure, however you mean it, -I shall not be negligent in expressing my thanks to you." - -"Compliment, Mr. Winthrope; compliment," returned Mrs. Jarney, with a -sweet deference towards accenting the word compliment. "I never indulge -in flattery with people whom I like--leastwise, I do not care to with -you." - -"I feel grateful to you, Mrs. Jarney, and to Mr. Jarney also, for your -kindnesses in my behalf, and friendly consideration of my welfare. The -only manner in which I can express myself, is that you have my sincerest -thanks for your good deeds and kind words," was the way he thanked them. - -Mrs. Jarney never lost an opportunity to say a good word for John to her -friends, or to himself. Sometimes he was touched to a modest degree of -bashfulness in her presence by her assertive way of praising him. On -this evening he was more severely tested than ever before by reason of -her motherly familiarity. When he arrived, she was so over-joyed at -seeing him, that she was almost in the act of throwing her arms around -his neck, and weeping, perhaps, as the mother did on the return of her -prodigal son. She, no doubt, would have committed this informal act of -gladness, had it not been that to have accomplished it, she would had to -have stood on a chair, John being so much the taller. But as it was, she -took both his hands in hers in welcoming him, and shook them with such -energy that John was disconcerted for a brief time. Mr. Jarney was just -as profuse in his greeting, but more restrainful in his actions than his -wife. Why all this joyfulness, this gladsomeness, this unusual -cordiality, on their part, John never stopped to consider in any other -form of reason than duty and gratitude. - -"You will want to see Edith before you go?" said Star, after the diners -had risen from the table, and as she was walking with him to the drawing -room. - -"Of course," replied John, "if she is in condition to see a stranger. I -should not want to leave without seeing her." - -"She knows you are here, and is expecting you. Will you go up now?" -asked Star. - -"If it is her pleasure, and your wish, I shall go with you," replied -John. - -Together Star and John repaired to Edith's room, Star entering first and -John following. Edith lay in her night clothes, with the covers drawn up -well around her throat, her two white hands reposing on the white -spread. She had expected him for the last two hours, and began to be -weary over the long waiting. So when the door opened and Star entered, -she turned her head in time to catch him coming in the door; then as -quickly turned it away, in an attempt to stop the fluttering of her -heart. When he approached her bedside, she extended to him a hand, -which he took, as he sat down on a chair by her side. - -"Mr. Winthrope," she said, very low, "I am glad to see you." - -John saw that her mind was with her now, and he should act accordingly. -The appalling look of illness was in her face yet, the appealing smile -of hope was in her eyes. He was overcome again. Oh, for that hour of -health for her, when the raptures of a true soul answers to the -responsive note! - -"You look so much better, Miss Jarney," said John, the moment of his -recovery over her glad greeting, "than when I saw you last." - -"Do I; really, Mr. Winthrope?" she asked, with her eyes illuminating. - -"Surely, you are better; I can hope so anyway." - -"I was better for some time after you left in March; but lately I have -been gradually growing worse, till now I am in bed again, as you see." - -"I plainly see," he said jocularly; "but, if you would get out of here -and into the country somewhere, and get the fresh air and open doors, I -am sure you would improve rapidly?" - -"Do you think so?" she asked, withdrawing her hand and folding them both -together, as she turned on her side, facing him. - -"Why, nothing would be better," he answered. - -"I am going away tomorrow," she said decisively. - -"Tomorrow! So soon, and you in bed yet?" he exclaimed. - -"My papa insists that I shall have a change of environment at once." - -"Can you go? Where will they take you?" - -"To the mountains--up somewhere where you live." - -"That should make a very enjoyable journey for you, and you should be -benefitted," he said, cheerfully. "I am going home in June, and I shall -hope to find you improved in health by that time. May I anticipate the -pleasure of calling to inquire about your health, Miss Jarney?" - -"The pleasure will be mine as well as yours, Mr. Winthrope." - -"Then I may call some day?" - -"You may, if--" and Edith offered up the daintiest little smile to meet -his glowing looks--"if you will take me and Star to see your mountain -home." - -"Oh, I shall be glad to do that. I have got the nicest little sister and -the finest big brother you ever saw, and my mother will cook you such a -rare dinner that I know you will recover soon after eating of it." - -"My! I can scarcely wait the time, Mr. Winthrope. I can already taste -that dinner. When will you be there?" - -"The first week in June." - -"How delightful! I know I shall recover my health, once I get there. How -impatient I am already! Star, is everything packed?" - -"Almost, Edith," answered Star. - -"We will not want many fine clothes, Star; I am going out to rough it -for awhile. Is it rough up there, Mr. Winthrope?" - -"Very--in some places," he answered. - -"And you will be up in June?" she asked, now feeling enthusiastic. - -"That is my plan, now," he replied, uncertainly. - -"You will not let anything interfere, for I want to see your sister, and -I know Star will want to see your brother," she said, with a weak smile -toward Star, who blushed very red at the idea of meeting John's brother. - -Edith was by this time worked up to a high state of excitement over the -prospect of the new life she was to lead. John, discerning the bad -effect it had on her, and fearing further complications should he -remain, rose to depart. She raised her hand to bid him good bye. He took -it, touched his lips to her fingers, looked down upon her, and said, -"Good bye." - -"Good bye," she said, "till we meet in the mountains. Good bye!" - -And John was gone. - -The same wild emotions whirled through his soul, as in those other -times, when he was so fraught with the uncertainty of her demeanor -during her night of illusions, as he left the mansion on the hill. The -same musical good bye, he heard echoing from the buzz of the automobile -that wheeled him to the city. The same he heard following him, pursuing -him, pervading him and everything--in the crowds of the streets, under -the lights, in the hotel corridor, in the lobby, in his room; and, -finally, the last he heard singing him to peaceful sleep. But he heard -it now played on a different harp from that which lulled him into sleep -many times before. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX. - -EDITH RECOVERS AND YOUNG COBB PAYS HIS RESPECTS. - - -It was another morning in May. The sun was climbing over the wooded -hills to the east; the wind was pulsing through the leafing trees; the -wild flowers were blooming by the roadside and in the dusky dells; the -butterfly, bee and bird were in their delights of mating, and all -creation was swinging in the swing of renewed vitality at the touch of -speeding spring. - -Edith, with the ever confiding Star by her side, sat wrapped in a summer -cloak on the eastern end of the sweeping reach of the veranda of the -Summit House, which sits, with much pretentious rambling, where the old -National way winds up from the east and twists up from the west in its -macadamed smoothness in crossing the mountain divide. - -Life is beautiful and life is sweet; but what is life without that which -the pure heart craves? The wind may sing to you in dulcing notes; the -birds may send forth their most ravishing rhapsodies; the flowers may -spray you with their cologne of incense; but what are they to the spirit -in which the call is answered? The sun may shine, the moon may beam, the -stars may twinkle; but what are they compared to the responsive cry of -the soul's affinity. Deep, deep, unanswerable is the mystery. - -Edith asked the sun, the moon, the stars; the wind, the trees, the -birds, the flowers, and everything; she felt the soothing wind, heard -the singing birds, caught the lulling scents; but they all gave back the -answer: mystery! mystery! It is all a mystery, that bright, beaming, -radiating longing that paints the beautiful pictures from a palping -heart that has received an echo from its secret throbs. - -As the sun climbed up his way, the wind lowered its beating pulses, and -a shimmer of warmth spread over the hills and woods and fields and deep -valleys. Life came up out of the east; and out of the depths of the -hotel. Farmers would pass in their rattling rigs; woodmen roll by in -their lumbering wagons; autos puff up the hills with their loads of -pleasure seekers, stop awhile, unload, and spin on again. Late risers -sauntered out on the veranda--ladies and gentlemen of leisure, and -children--in idling costumes, and tramp off time, as a bracer for the -morning feast. Noises came out of the interior, like a modified din from -chambers of revelry. Bells, on straying sheep, or browsing cattle, -tinkled in the distance. Axes rang somewhere in the silent forests; -sounds of many kind broke out from everywhere; and the world was full -astir. - -It was wonderful to Edith, this new life, with its healing balm of fresh -air, bright sun, green vegetation, pleasant sounds--all undimmed, -untarnished, uncontaminated by smoke and fog and grime of her native -city. It was wonderful, to Edith, to see the bright faces of the -mountain people, coming and going on their daily trips to Uniontown; it -was wonderful to see how light-hearted, how gay, how spirited were those -of the leisure class who spent their nights at this health-giving -resort, and their days in the towns below. - -It was all wonderful, indeed. It was wonderful how fast she recovered -her strength; how quickly the fires of health returned to her cheeks; -how speedily her drooping spirits mounted to that pinnacle where the -flagging soul ceases to repine. But was it all the bracing air, the -burning sun, the happy birds, the blooming flowers, that effected her -cure, as if by the magic touch of that enchantress, Isis? Mystery! - -Among those who arrived that morning from the nether lands was Jasper -Cobb. He came in due formality of traveling as was his wont. He had his -valet, who had his hat boxes and suit cases and trunks. He had his cane, -his pipe and his et cetera. He was surprised, of course, but delighted, -naturally, to see Edith and Star sitting on the wide veranda, as he -jauntily floated up to them after disposing of his valet and other -personal things. - -"Well, well! if this isn't a surprise to shock your grandmother and -throw your granddaddy into hysterics!" he exclaimed, coming up to them, -making a bow that almost threw them into the titters, over its profound -ridiculousness. "Why, when did you come here?" he asked, as if he had -not known beforehand. - -"We have been here for two weeks," answered Edith, respectfully, -although she abhorred him. - -"You certainly look better, Miss Jarney; you, too, Miss Barton," he -said, with a protracted smile of the wheedling variety. "This rarefied -atmosphere, away from the Pittsburgh smoke, appears to agree with you -two, charmingly." - -"It does very well; very well," said Edith, disinclined to be friendly. - -"I hope we may see each other often, Miss Jarney--and Miss Barton," he -continued, insinuatingly. "If you two have not dined I should deem it a -favor to have your company." - -"Thank you; we have already dined," responded Edith. - -"If you will excuse me, then, I will perform that necessary duty -myself," he returned. After a sweeping bow and another wheedling smile -that he might as well have kept to himself, he left them. - -"I do hope we will not be bored to death by that young man," said Edith. - -"What will we do, Edith?" asked Star. "If we remain here and he remains -here, it will be rather awkward to get rid of him." - -"Oh, we will show him what respect we can without losing our own -self-respect," said Edith. "I wonder what brought him here?" - -"Pursuing you, I suppose, Edith." - -"He will have his trouble for naught, Star," replied Edith, with a toss -of her head. - -"I should think he would know enough to comprehend a few hints," said -Star. - -"Some people don't, you know, Star," said Edith, rising and drawing the -mantle closer about her shoulders. "Let us go for a walk down the -mountain road, so we will not be bothered with him, at least for -awhile." - -But Jasper was not to be so easily shook by such a furtive departure on -the part of Edith and Star; for that young man, immediately after -finishing his breakfast, and ascertaining from the keeper of the grounds -the direction in which they had gone, lighted his pipe, gloved his -hands, and, armed with his cane, went after them at a pace that would do -well for a Weston in his hikes. He found them after a short walk down -the hill aways, sitting in the shade of a spreading chestnut tree. The -young ladies saw him coming, but they could not retreat, nor flee in any -direction, so had to make the most of him, for a time. He, being a very -brisk and bold young man, with a dandified swagger in his bearing and a -distorted vainness about his personality, approached Edith and Star with -such a rush of enthusiasm that they had cause to be exasperated at his -manners. - -"Hah, playing hide and seek with each other, are you?" he said, with an -overbearing sweetness and an impertinent geniality. - -"Not at all; just resting after our walk down the hill preparatory for -the returning climb," answered Edith, with an effort to be a little -disdainful; but if he noticed this in her, it was more than anybody else -could see, for it was quite contrary to her nature to be disrespectful, -except when brought to extremities, no matter how hard she tried, even -toward the worst of fists. "Finding it getting warm," she continued, "we -sat down here to rest before returning." - -"Aren't you going any farther? Which way?" he asked. - -"Up the hill," she answered his implied questions. - -"Then I may accompany you on the return?" he asked. - -Edith glanced at Star, Star at Edith, for an answer; but neither -answered for a moment. Then Edith, seeing the predicament they would be -in of either saying yes, or offering a rebuke, said: "We came out for a -quiet walk together, Mr. Cobb, and thought we would find rest down here, -and be away from the people up there--" pointing toward the hotel; "but -if you are going up the hill, we will see who can go the faster." - -"Banter me for a race, do you?" he said, ingratiatingly. - -"Oh, not necessarily," returned Edith, with a laugh. - -"All right, then a walk it shall be," he said airily, not a whit -disposed toward being piqued at the young ladies' desire to have done -with him. - -Edith and Star started off together at a lively step on the upgrade -tramp, Jasper keeping by their side, with even step, in a palavering -mood. His talk was simply airy nothings, commonplace enough in its most -brilliant stages, and foolish enough for the most twadling and -appreciative loiterer of swelldom. He had a sort of rude wit about him -that might be very interesting and enjoyable to a crowd of sports, but -to Edith and Star he was a driveling idiot. - -The walk progressed at such a rate that very soon Edith, in her desire -to keep in advance of him, began to lag, and her breath was coming too -fast and furious for her benefit; but Star, who yet showed no signs of -fatigue, had taken Edith by the arm to urge her along the best she -could. Edith's face was excessively red from the great exertion, and -sweat stood out on her forehead like morning dew on the crimson clover -bloom. - -"Whew!" exclaimed Edith, at last, puffing and blowing, and heaving her -breast in harmony with her rapid respiration, and saying between -breaths, "that is--a little--too--much." - -"You are blowing like a porpoise," said Jasper, as he stopped and was -contemplating her from head to foot, using his cane for a rest, on which -he leaned. "Shall I fetch an auto for you?" - -"No; I can make it up the hill; but I must take it slower," she -answered, holding her hand over her heart. - -"If you will permit me, I will assist you," he said. - -"Oh, never mind me, I will get there, eventually." - -"Come on, then," he said, with coarseness, as he laid hold of her arm to -urge her forward; and thus between the two they got her up the hill. - -Simultaneously with their rounding the hill from the east, there rounded -the same hill from the west a double team of farm horses hitched to a -cumbersome wagon. On a flat board seat, across the bed in front, sat a -young man about twenty years of age, and a lass of about sixteen -blooming summers in her face. The horses moved at a slow and lazy pace, -after having pulled a heavy load up the winding stretch of three mile -grade, and stopped at the apex for a "blow" before relieving the -pressure on their collars for the downward pull. At the stopping of the -team, Edith and Star and Jasper came abreast in their walking, and also -stopped for a "blow" before entering the hotel. - -This meeting seemed to have been the result of prearrangement, so -natural did the precise moment of stopping appear. The young man in the -wagon was a pronounced blonde; but the many seasons that he had spent in -the mountains had bronzed his cheeks to a coppery red, and made him a -very healthy and rugged youth, withal. He had a regularity of features -that could not be gainsayed for their Grecian similarity. His light -blue eyes were sharp, steady, penetrating. With a slouch hat on his -head, flapping down on both sides, and tending to pokeness at the crown; -a check shirt opened in front and turned aside, revealing a deep manly -breast, and turned up sleeves exposing muscular arms from the elbows to -a set of rough but well shaped hands--he sat like a monument of Strength -and Health and Robust Beauty, resting his horses, and indifferent to the -astonished gaze of the city bred people standing by. The young lady by -his side, in the flower of young maidenhood, was a counterpart of the -young man; and they were, without a doubt, from the same family tree. -Her pink-lined sun-bonnet of gingham, accentuated by the warming sun, -caused her face to glow, as if on fire, and her red calico dress could -not have added more demureness to her looks had it been made of the -richest silk. - -Thus, as they came by chance together, at such a time and at such a -place, and under such pleasant circumstances, the three a-foot and the -two a-riding cast contradictory glances at each other. Edith thought she -saw in the young mountaineer an embossed replica of some one else; and -also in the face of the young girl she was sure there was the -heavenly-traced picture of another face. Star, with her head thrown -back, in contemplative grandeur, looked at them with a stare of -uncertain recognition. The young man in the wagon was about to speak, -believing them to be friendly disposed vacationists, and would not mind -a turn of conversation with him, being as he was of the out of the way -places of their humdrum existence; but before he could do so, Edith -suddenly plucked Star by the arm, and with her ran toward the hotel -entrance, not stopping till she had gained the wide veranda, panting -again, and all excited. Reaching the vantage of that viewpoint, and -while standing behind a shielding porch column, she peeped from behind -it, like one frightened. She beheld the mountaineer, with the little -girl, disappear below the hill, and heard the screeching of the rubber -blocks of his wagon, and saw the louting Jasper ambling, with a -whistling note to keep him step, down the pikeway toward the hotel. - -"Star, that was John's brother!" exclaimed Edith, after he had -disappeared over the hill, "and that little girl was his sister." - -Resuming her composure over the excitement the incident caused, she sat -down in one of the lounging chairs, with Star by her looking serious -enough herself. - -"I believe so, Edith; but why didn't we stop long enough to talk with -them?" said Star, apparently disappointed. - -"Oh, I wanted to stop to speak--but that would not do, dear Star--would -not do at all; but I will have a talk with them when he comes here next -week, never mind," cried Edith, with much joyousness in the ring of her -voice. "Isn't she such a pretty creature--just like one of those little -fairy mountain girls you see sometimes in romantic plays in the -theaters, and I know she is more romantic." - -"What do you think of him, Edith--the man--her brother--if that is whom -he is?" asked Star, blushing for the first time Edith ever saw that -intelligible sign in her face. - -"If he is not Mr. Winthrope's brother, he is his living stature in -bronze," replied Edith; "and now, Star, tell me your opinion?" - -"I can't say that I have an opinion, Edith; I am really dumb with -amazement. He is such a big fellow--more like a mill-worker, or -such--oh, my, Edith; don't ask me for--" - -"Well, now, I like that way of speaking about Mr. Winthrope's brother. -Maybe it was not him at all, and we have had our little scare for -nothing. Oh, goodness! here comes Mr. Cobb again! dear me!" and Edith -subsided. - -Pursuing the tenor of his prevailing thoughts, Jasper Cobb sought Edith -and found her on the eastern end of the veranda. After saluting the two -young ladies again quite prodigiously, he asked Edith for a private -interview at once. Star, hearing the request, rose and left them, as if -she had an errand in her room, before Edith had time to ask her to -remain. Star, however, was waiting for such an opportunity to absent -herself, knowing what young Cobb's mission was. Having been informed by -Edith what her answer would be, she went away satisfied that she would -return to find that young man laboring under a severe jolt to his -mercenary soul. - -Now, when alone, Mr. Cobb drew up a seat and sat near Edith. - -"Miss Jarney, we have always been friends--our families?" - -"Yes." - -"And we have been friends for years, you and I?" - -"Yes." - -"Would you consider a proposition from me to make that friendship -permanent and lasting?" - -"Yes." - -His heart bounded--a little. - -"Well, Miss Jarney--may I call you Edith?--I came here to ask you to -marry me?" - -"You?" she said, turning on him. - -"Yes; me," he answered, dejectedly, for he caught the tone of her voice -in no uncertain meaning. - -"No," said Edith, firmly, looking at him, with a sort of a commiserated -smile for his imbecility. "If you want to be my friend, Mr. Cobb, all -right, you may consider me as such; but, as to marrying you, never can I -make up my mind to that end." - -"Dear Miss Jarney, you don't know the blow that you have struck me--it -almost topples me over," he insisted, and Edith came near laughing in -his face, so ludicrous was the expression that he had now assumed. "I -have always thought you had encouraged me--" - -"Oh, never was I guilty of such an offense, Mr. Cobb--never. You are -laboring under a misconception, or a delusion, or something else. -Encourage you, Mr. Cobb? How ridiculous!" - -"Then, you refuse?" he asked, coldly and fiercely. - -"I most certainly have my senses with me," she retorted, with a laugh. - -"Ah, then, I'll go my old way. I thought I might settle down some day -and be a man," he whispered. - -"Be a man first, Mr. Cobb, and settle down afterwards, is my advice to -you," she responded. - -"You are cruel, Miss Jarney--cruel--as cruel as all the other women of -the rich, who make monkeys of we men folk," he said, despairingly. - -"You must understand, Mr. Cobb, that I am not one 'of all the other -women' of the rich, of whom you speak so slightingly," she replied, -still keeping a good temper. - -"Well, I guess not, Miss Jarney," he said, with a sneer, looking away -from her. "I see, Miss Jarney--I am not blind--that you have set your -cap for that young man in your father's office." - -"You are disrespectful, Mr. Cobb; leave me at once," she replied, with -some scorn for the first time exhibiting itself in her bearing. She -arose and left him sitting there alone, with his pipe as his only -comforting companion. After recovering from this jolt, as Star -predicted, he gathered up his belongings, together with his valet, and -vanished. - -Imagine such a union of hearts! There are plenty of them founded upon -the rock of riches. Yes; imagine it! See this young man Cobb, and know -his worth! His face was like that of a well bred bull terrier, with a -pipe between its lips, and a red cap upon its head. He had a pair of -dull-gray pants on his hind legs, and they were turned up, with a pair -of yellow shoes sticking out below the turn-ups. Around the middle of -his body was a yellow belt fastened by a silver buckle, and above the -belt was a silken white shirt, with turn-down collar, and around the -collar was a red necktie, in which stuck a scarabee pin. And he called -himself a man worthy of Edith. - -He had been to Harvard, she to Vassar. She had learned to write a -grammatical sentence and spell in the good old Websterian way. She could -sing and play on the piano; and converse on the economic questions of -the day with the perspicacity of a Stowe. She read the poets down -through the catalogue of famous men and women, and the novelists of the -class of Dickens and Hawthorne. She knew of the painters, the musicians, -the theologians, and could talk intelligently on them all. - -Him? He had learned a lot of things. He could flip the Harvard stroke -with the ease of a Cook. He could make a touchdown without breaking -sixteen ribs of an adversary. He could twirl the pigskin like an artist -of the green cloth. He could take the long jump, or the long hike, with -the grace of a giraffe. He could dance like a terpsichorian dame. He -could drink whiskey, champagne and beer, smoke cigaretts, play cards. He -could talk with the profundity of an ass and write with the imbecility -of an ox. Yes, indeed, he had all the refinements of a college -education--the kind confined to the male gender. The only virtue he had -was his prospective inheritance from his father--money. - -And he wanted Edith to marry him! Pooh! - - - - -CHAPTER XXX. - -FOR JOHN IS COMING HOME. - - -There is a little frame house sitting, in the shade of maples and oaks, -by the roadside to the south aways from Chalk Hill. It is a leaning -building, to some extent, in many ways, by reason of its age. A crooked -little chimney heaves up on the exterior of one end, by reason of its -insecure foundation. Shingles curl, up, as if in dotage, by reason of -the sun. Weather boarding warp and twist and turn, grayed by the wash of -years, by reason of their antiquity. Windows peep out, with little -panes, and rattle in the wind, by reason of their frailty. Wasps and -bees, in season, build their mud nests beneath curling shingle and -behind twisting board; bats fly out, at eventide, from unseen holes in -the gables; and swallows chatter and circle round the chimney top in the -twilight of the summer days. An ancient porch, with oaken floor, hangs -against the front wall, and the woodbine and morning glory creep and -twine and bloom around its slanting columns. A gate swings out at the -end of the path leading from the door to the highway. Flowers--the rose, -the marigold, the bouncingbetty, the wild pink, the primrose, all as -old-fashioned as the people who dwell here--border the pathway. A paled -patch of ground stands to one side, as sacred as the Garden of -Gethsemane. In the rear a gnarled and aged orchard has but recently shed -its snowy burden of bloom, with lingering scents still in the air; and -beyond and around, fence-enclosed fields are greening with growing -crops, and still beyond are dark forests and open fields and noisy -ravines. - -Evening is coming on. The sun has gone down over the mountain top. -Shadows have disappeared into the gray of fading light. Odors of night -are ascending from the cooling earth. The robins are rendering the last -stanza of their solemn doxology to the dying day. The whippoorwills send -forth their melancholy praises to the approaching darkness through the -wooded chancel of their shadowy choir loft. And frogs swell their -throats in grave bass tones to the melody of country life at this time -of departing day. - -A gray-haired farmer, in rough garb, sits on the porch, smoking his -pipe, and by his side sits his patient, loving wife. On the top step of -the porch sits their young daughter, reading her fate, perhaps, in the -evening stars, the while glancing up the road, and listening for the -click of horses' feet on the stones. But no sound is heard before night -comes on. The mother rises, goes in, and lights the oil lamp, and sets -it by a window for the expected visitor to see. For John is coming home. - -"They are late in getting here," says the mother, as she descends from -the porch, and goes down the path to the gate. She looks up the road -through the shadows; then returns, and sits down by her daughter on the -steps. - -The father relights his pipe, clanks down to the gate, in his heavy -boots, looks up the road through its shadows; then returns. "They are -late," he says, and resumes his seat. - -"I wonder what is keeping them," says the daughter, with an expectant -hush in her sweet voice, as she rises, and goes down to the gate. She -looks up the road through its shadows; then returns, and sits down. - -Listen! - -John is coming home. - -They hear the clank of horses' hoofs, the rattling wheels, the rhythm of -a lively trot; then indistinct voices far in the distance. - -John is coming home. The son who went away the year before--the -brother--is coming home. The father's boots clank on the porch as he -impatiently walks back and forth. The mother rises, and shades her eyes, -and peers up the roadway through the shadows. The sister rises, with a -dancing heart, and flutters down to the gate, like an angel in the -darkness. - -For John is coming home. Home! His only place of sweet rememberance. - -It is an age, it seems, before the team draws up and John leaps out to -catch his sister in his arms. - -"Come into the light, Anne, that I may see your face, for I know you are -growing so handsome," said John, putting his arm around his sister, and -went laughing with her toward the house. Could he have seen those -blushes, in the darkness, because of his brotherly praising of her! - -"How is mother?" was his greeting to his mother, as he kissed her at -the foot of the steps. And, with her clinging to him on one side and -Anne on the other, he ascended the steps to the porch. - -"Where is father?" asked John, not seeing him in the darkness, standing -just ahead of them. "Oh, here he is!" John exclaimed, as he released -himself from his mother and sister, and grasped his father's rough hand. -"Come into the light and let me see you all," said John, after the -formalities of greeting had been performed, to the satisfaction of all -around. - -The light brought forth a revelation for them all, as light does for -everything. The family now saw in John a new being in outward -appearance, but still the same loving son and brother. John now saw his -father and mother a little older, it appeared, perhaps, from anxiety -over his absence, or it may have been their strenuous toil was showing -plainer on them. He also saw in his sister, a simple country maiden in -the rusticity of young beauty. - -"Anne, will you let me kiss you again?" asked John, as he stood in -admiration over her by the lamp, holding her hand, after his mother and -father had gone to complete the supper that had been almost ready for -hours waiting for him. - -Anne tip-toed up to her brother, at his request, and put up her sweet -lips to his. - -"And how has my little sister been all these months?" he asked, patting -her on the cheek. - -"Very well, John; I hope you have been a good boy," she answered. - -"Sister wouldn't expect anything else of me, would she?" he asked, -kissing her again. - -"Oh, no, indeed, John," she replied, with wide eyes. - -"And have you been good?" he asked. - -"Very, John," she responded. - -"No beaus yet, I hope?" he asked, in his teasing way he always had with -her. - -"Why, no, John!" and she blushed, not that she had a beau, but through -maiden coyness. "You are the only one I've got, John." - -Supper was then announced. James, who brought John from town, came in -after putting away the horses. And they all sat down in happy reunion -once more. For John was home. - -"What was the cause of your delay, John?" asked Michael Winthrope, the -father. - -"Oh, by the way, father, I must tell you about it," answered John, -laughing heartily, and looking slyly at James, who was now dressed in -his best clothes, and presented as good an appearance as John himself. -"I have two lady friends, who--" - -"Why, John!" exclaimed the mother, looking over her glasses. - -"Wait, mother; will you hear my story?" said John, turning a happy smile -upon his mother. "As I was going to say, I have two lady friends -stopping at the Summit House. One is the daughter of my employer; the -other her cousin. They saw us, as we were coming by, and, of course, we -saw them. Knowing them as I do, I could not come on without the -formality of greeting them. I introduced James to them, mother; and what -do you think?--" - -"Now, John, you mustn't be too severe on me," said James, modestly, "for -I don't pretend to your polish since you went away." - -"Never mind, James; you are a capital fellow, after all--but, mother, -James and sister here"--turning to Anne--"saw them the other day, and -they are--they think he and sister cannot be beaten as--roving -mountaineers--no, they didn't say that sister"--turning to his sister -again--"They did say they would come out to see us, if you will drive in -for them." - -"Law, me, John; we have no place here to entertain such grand people. -What do you mean?" asked the mother, holding up her spoon, and shaking -it with a remonstrative motion as emphasis to her thoughts. - -"Wait, mother; wait, and hear me out, before remonstrating any further," -said John, cheerfully. "They wouldn't accept my invitation; but they -want sister to drive our old rig in for them, and extend the invitation -to spend the day with us. They thought it would be so romantic to go on -a lark with little sister"--turning to her again with such a fond look -that Anne beamed under his countenance. "Will you go, sister?" he asked. - -"Shall I, mother?" asked Anne. - -"If John says so. What do you say, James?" asked the mother. - -"That is up to John," responded James. - -"And father?" asked the mother. - -"Whatever John says about it," replied the father. - -"Now, everything is up to you, sister," said John. "Are you going?" - -"Why, of course, brother," she answered. "When?" - -"Tomorrow," replied John. - -So it was settled. That night, as John lay down to sleep in his old bed, -so pure and white, in a little room up stairs, he heard again, above the -screeching insects, the booming frogs, the wailing owls, that old sweet -song that carried him into the slumberous land of nowhere--"Good bye! -Good bye!"--as on so many nights before. - -In the night, when the house was still, a gray-haired man, in night -clothes and carrying a lighted lamp, softly stole into John's room. John -lay with his face upturned, his eyes closed, and his lips parted in a -sleeping smile. The father stood over him a moment, bent down and -touched his lips to his son's brow. "He is a good boy yet," he said to -himself, and softly stole away. - -Anne was singing, as she went about her work, when John awoke in the -morning; and life was astir on every hand. The pigs were squealing in -their sty; the calves were bawling in their pens; ducks were squawking -in their pond; chickens were cackling in the barn yard, and the sun was -shining everywhere. John dressed himself and descended the narrow -stairway, with tousled head and open shirt front. The mother was milking -the cows, James was in the field, and the father was in the barn. Anne -was preparing breakfast. - -"Now, I may see you in the sunlight, sister," said John, as he sauntered -into the old-fashioned kitchen, and stood before her, with folded arms, -and half yawning yet from sleep, as she was spreading the cloth upon the -table. "I didn't know I had such a dear little sister," he said, as he -put his arm about her and kissed her on the lips. - -"You are such a fine brother, John, that I am almost in love with you," -she returned, as she lovingly left an imprint of a kiss on his cheek; -then leaving him to pursue her work. - -"Whose love would I want more than yours, Anne?" he asked, in his -laughing manner. - -"Oh, I don't know, John; maybe you have a girl better than me to love -you," she replied. - -"I shall never place any one above my dear little sister," he said -thoughtfully; "but--for no one can be your equal--except--one." - -"Is it one of those, John, whom I am going after this morning?" asked -Anne, rattling the skillet on the stove. "One of those whom brother -James and I met on the road a short time ago?" - -"One of those, Anne--the rich man's only child--but I am too poor for -her," he answered, regretfully. - -"Is she as good as you, brother--and me?" asked Anne, distributing the -plates around the table. She was innocent yet of the ways of the world; -but was feeling the first calling of young maidenhood. - -"She is very good, Anne; very good; but no better than you," he -returned, with the same uncertain cloud of perplexity that overcast him -so often before, still pervading him like a wave of blinding light that -comes to obscure the vision, at times, by reason of its intensity of -purpose. - -"She is very fine looking, John--both of them, John. Which one is it you -mean?" - -"The smaller of the two." - -"Oh, the one with the bluest eyes, who took fright at us and ran." - -"That is just like Edith, to run." - -"I know I could love her, John." - -"You are anticipating, sister." - -"Why, who couldn't love you, John?" asked Anne, looking up at him, with -some doubts as to what he meant. - -"That is a sister's opinion, child," said John. - -"A sister's opinion of her brother is better than any one else's. Maybe -she does love you, John. Did you ever ask her?" - -"Maybe she does," said John, going toward the door and looking out over -the garden fence and into the fields, and dreamily into the distance; -"but she is too rich to accept me, sister," he said, turning about. "How -soon will breakfast be ready?" - -"As soon as you wash your face," she answered. - -John, heeding this hint, went to a basin on a bench in the yard, which -forcibly recalled the old days. How refreshing it was to him to soap and -souse his face into the cold water! And how inconveniently unpleasant it -was, after such soaping and sousing, to rush with blinded eyes, and -water trickling down the neck beneath the shirt collar, to the kitchen -and fumble, like a blind man, for the towel. But it was home to John. - -The rattling wheels and squeaking springs of the old rig could be heard -far up the road after Anne, dressed in a clean white frock and wearing a -pink sun-bonnet, had left the front gate on her mission, guiding the old -farm horses on their sure and steady gait. - -Oh, John, John! If there is anything worth while, it is Edith's love, -the love that never dies. Blind man, as you are, and too considerate of -high state, and too proud of your own, you are the only one to make her -sweet soul happy. Bestir yourself, John, and come out of the fog of -self-consciousness that has kept you in obscurity so long as to your -final intentions. High state and low state are all the same to the Cupid -that has engaged you so relentlessly. High caste and low caste do not -count for him. Come and see the right, and see the light. She is only -mortal, you are only mortal. Money is nothing to her; money is nothing -to you. Love is all to her; love is all to you. It is the man and woman, -after all, that makes happiness supreme. Come! - -John has donned the garb of a mountaineer, which gives him a wild -romantic bearing. It is the garb of his former self. This is the one in -which Edith, secretly, wished to see him in, sometimes; and she shall -have her wish fulfilled. He wears a gray slouch hat; a check shirt, -opened in the front and turned up at the sleeves; a pair of blue -overalls, with bed-ticken suspenders, and high boots. Typical! He is in -his elements now, for his vacation period. He wishes Edith, when she -comes, to see him as he once was. It is not vanity; it is pride of home. -He wishes her to see life as it really is in a well directed loving -home, where toil is the simple reward of living. He wishes her to see -what life is to these people of the hills, how they thrive, and how they -bear their burdens. He wishes her to see all this in contrast to her own -life, and how love and duty can go on perpetually in a humble home, as -well as in a mansion. - -Work must not cease on the farm, at this season, except in case of -sickness or death; visitors must make themselves at home during the work -hours, and be entertained only at meal time, or go their way. The wheels -of industry must go on there as noisily, ever grinding, as the wheels -of industry, ever grinding, in the city. But there are rare occasions, -even in both instances, when surcease is had for a spell to meet the -call of recreation. And this was one of those rare occasions on the -farm. For Edith and Star were coming, and a half holiday was cut out for -their especial pleasure. James would cease his ploughing the corn at -noon. The father would knock off duty at eleven to help mother get up -the feast, and then smoke his pipe thereafter, perhaps, as his company. -Thus it was planned. - -After Anne had gone, John roamed about the place, speculating on the -tender association everything had for him. He went through the house -from garret to cellar, and beheld, with warming heart, how dear the old -things were, and how different they were to the things in the mansion on -the hill. Here was everything still that he knew in his boyhood days, -and he saw with a thrill of regret, but not remorse, for it was still -his home any time he wished to abide therein. And no one could gainsay -him that privilege. - -But how would Edith look upon all this, and not be struck by the simple -evidence of his lowly origin? Ah, the comparison is too great, he -thought, as he went into the garden, where he first learned the secrets -of plant life; and then into the orchard, where he first saw the -wonderfulness of the fruiting time; and then into the old barn, where -was taught him the nature of domesticated animals; and then into the -fields, where he had ploughed and sowed and reaped. How different from -his life for the past year! How different! - -Edith could see nothing of interest in such bucolic surroundings, he -thought. She would come, and see, and go, and want to forget him. It is -well, he thought, that she sees it now, and of her own coming. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI. - -IN CONCLUSION. - - -The rattling wheels and squeaking springs could be heard far up the -road. Anne was returning with her precious load. The horses trotted down -the hill, and came up with a rattle and a bang, and a sudden stop, at -the gate, with Edith at the lines, and Anne by her side, and Star in the -rear seat alone holding on tightly lest she should be bumped out. - -"Wasn't that great!" exclaimed Edith. "I told you I could drive. This is -your home?" to Anne. - -"This is our home," replied Anne, as she began to climb over the wheel -in getting out. - -"Isn't it a beautiful place, Star!" said Edith. "Just look at the roses -blooming! and all those flowers around the porch! Anne you have such a -romantic little home! Well, if here isn't our mountaineer, for a -surety!" she exclaimed seeing John coming down the walk. "How do you do, -Mr. Winthrope? I see you at last in your true character! How will I ever -get over this wheel?" - -"If you will be real good, I will help you out--with your permission," -said John, as he approached, and offered up both hands for her to fall -into, as she liked. "Sister, I will put away the horses," he said to -Anne, as he saw she was holding the head of one of the horses to await -the unloading. "Remember, this is not an auto," he reminded Edith, as -she was cautiously putting out one little foot on the rim of the wheel -before her. - -"I would not have had so much fun if it had been an auto," returned -Edith, looking down into his upturned face, and laughing; "and you have -such a fine sister," as she turned her head toward Anne. - -"Now, jump," said John, as he caught her beneath the arms, she resting -her hands on his shoulders in the momentary act before the plunge. "Down -you come--there!--not so difficult after all," he said, as she bounced -on her feet on the ground. "Now, Miss Barton, we will see with what -grace you can perform the feat." - -"You will have to be careful; I am so awkward," said Star, preparing to -go through the same acrobatic act. - -"Jump, Star!" said Edith, seeing her hesitate. - -"Here I go, then!" she said, laughing, as she took the downward dive. - -"Oh, my! Miss Barton!" exclaimed John, as she tumbled into his arms, as -a big rag doll might. "Are you hurt?" he asked, as he released her from -the necessary embracing he had to perform to prevent her from falling to -the ground. - -"Not hurt, but a little frightened," she answered, flushed from the -incident, and brushing out her skirts. "I am all right." - -"Now, you ladies go into the house with my sister while I put the horses -away. Here, Anne, you take the ladies, and I will take the horses," he -said, leaving his guests, and taking up Anne's position in charge of the -team. - -"May I call you Anne?" asked Edith, as Anne came up to her. - -"Yes, Miss Jarney, if you wish; we all use our first names up here," -responded Anne, opening the gate. - -"You may call me Edith, if you like, and this other lady will be our -guiding Star," said Edith, walking with her arm around Anne's shoulders -up the walk, her face aflush, her eyes beaming, and seeing everything -about, talking continually. - -Star was not as talkative; but she was just as seeing as Edith was. She, -too, saw something in that home, more than its simplicity, to attract -her admiration. Was it the fragrant flowers and hopping birds and cool -freshness that she saw? or was it the peace of contentment, indefinably -overloading everything? or was it the radical difference in the two -homes, ideal though in both, and irresistable in their contradictory -elements, that caused her spirits to rise above the normal point of -enthusiasm? Or was it something else? Star did not know. - -Arriving at the door, arm in arm now, Anne passed straight through the -opening, holding on to Edith, and Star followed with considerable -wonderment at what she might encounter. - -"Take off your hats, ladies," said Anne, withdrawing her arm from -Edith's and standing off, with folded hands, looking at her, with -gladness all over her face. - -"No, you must say Edith and Star," said Edith, seeing how humbly -courteous Anne tried to be. - -"If you will have it that way; Edith and Star, take off your hats and -gloves. Now, I've said it, and I didn't mean to be so rude," said Anne, -abashed. - -"Anne, I will not love you if you do not call me Edith," said Edith, -scolding pleasantly, pulling off her gloves. "I do not like too much -formality. I have had so much of that that it does my heart good to get -out where I can be free; and you will let me be free here, Anne, won't -you?" - -"Oh, yes, Edith," answered Anne; "and Star, too; you may be as free as -you please, Edith, for we are such common folk, so long as you don't -carry off my brother, John." She said this without the least knowledge -of its true meaning; not mentioning her brother James, because she did -not think of such things in his connection. - -Edith blushed a deep crimson, as well as Star, at this extraordinary -remark on this the most extraordinary day that ever came into their -virtuous lives. Anne had a faint inkling of what these blushes meant, -for she continued: "Now, Miss Edith, since you want to be free with me, -I will be just as free with you, and tell you that my brother -l--l--likes you." - -Edith was not prepared for all this, and she had to turn her head in the -most confused state of feelings she ever fell into, all for wanting to -be tender and kind and loving toward this mountain girl, who was not yet -clearly or fully instructed in the propriety of fine speech. Edith made -no reply. She stood a moment, after facing Anne, cogitating on what an -appropriate reply should be. - -"Anne," she said directly, with a bright smile, "will you let me kiss -you?" - -Edith held out her hands for Anne to come to her. Anne responded to the -ineffable sweetness of Edith to make amends for her offense, which she -realized she had committed against the fine lady opening her heart to -her. - -"I love you, Anne," said Edith, holding the dear little girl to her -breast; "I love you; will you be my friend?" - -"Why, of course, Edith," replied Anne; then she broke away, and was -gone, leaving Edith and Star alone. - -They removed their hats and placed them on a table in a corner; and then -sat down on a lounge that graced the wall under a window looking out on -the porch, both in bewildered confusion and agitation. - -"What do you think of his sister, Star?" asked Edith. - -"She is a fine young child; no more than sixteen, perhaps," responded -Star, "and so lively that I wish I could be here with her all the time." - -"I wonder if they will let us take her with us to the city, Star, to be -our companion?" said Edith. "We would educate her, and teach her music -and everything." - -The kitchen door opened, and Anne came in with her mother, who wore a -gingham apron as the badge of her position in the household. Anne -advanced with her mother and presented her, with much dignity, as she -conceived it, to Edith and Star. - -"This is my mother, Edith and Star," said Anne, as the two young ladies -arose and advanced to the middle of the room. - -Edith presented her small white hand and took the coarse hand of Mrs. -Winthrope. "I am so glad to know you, Mrs. Winthrope," said Edith, as -she kissed the aging woman, whose age was more from toil than years. -Star having performed the same act of greeting, including the osculatory -part thereof, Mrs. Winthrope held up her hands in an astonished -attitude, and said: "Well, well; I declare; and you two are John's -friends, are you? I hope you are well." - -"We are well; thank you," they both repeated. - -"Just make yourselves at home, ladies, with what we have here to -entertain you, while I finish the dinner. Be seated by the window where -it is cool, for I know you must be warm after the long drive in the -sun." - -"Thank you, Mrs. Winthrope," they answered; and were seated. - -Then the mother and daughter disappeared again; and Anne returned, after -a little, with her father, who was in the clothes of a ploughman. Mr. -Winthrope was a tall man, a little stooped, with chin whiskers, and gray -blue eyes; and, while rough looking, was not boorish. Anne escorted him -to the young ladies, who arose at his approach. He greeted them so -warmly and effusively that, for some time thereafter, they felt the grip -of his vise-like hand on theirs. - -"Just make yourselves at home, as you like," he said. "We are farmers, -you know, and if you find any pleasure here it is yours. We will be -through our work by noon, then mother and me will find time to talk, if -you care to be bothered with us at all." Then he left them. - -"Are they not very good people," said Edith to Star, after the father -had gone out with Anne. - -"I like them very much," opined Star; "they are so pleasant." - -John came in shortly, and sat down on a split-bottom chair in the middle -of the room. - -"I hope you ladies are enjoying yourselves," he said, toying with his -hat he held in his hands. - -"I could not enjoy myself any more if it were my own home," answered -Edith. "Why, you have such a delightful home, Mr. Winthrope, and such -nice parents, and such a sweet little sister, with whom I have already -fallen in love. I am regretting that I have not known them longer." - -"That's a beautiful encomium, Miss Jarney, on my native heath; but you -know that you and your father and mother have been saying so many nice -things about me that I am uncertain whether you mean it or not." John -said this while glancing at the floor, picturing intangible things in -the woof and warp of the old rag carpet. - -"I mean every word of it. Mr. Winthrope," replied Edith, also picturing -similar intangible things in the old rag carpet as easily as if she had -pictured them out of the delicate flowers in the velvet rug in her -boudoir. - -Star sat gazing out the window, looking at some intangible shapes that -made up the green hills beyond. Their conversation thereafter was not of -the progressive kind, nor was it brilliant. Both became secretively -reserved, and time was hanging monstrously on their hands. John was -dreaming. Edith was dreaming. Both were uncertain as to what to say or -how to act, so discomposed were they. But James came in soon to break -the spell. He was such a strapping fine fellow, fine in texture, and as -good as he was fine. - -"I knew very well who you were the day we met you on the road," said -Edith, shaking his hand. - -"Had I known all this then. I should have bundled you into my wagon and -brought you right home," he replied, with considerable liveliness in his -speech. "But not knowing you, of course, I could do nothing else but -drive on. However, the pleasure of meeting you now, here, is certainly -beyond my mean ability to express." - -"We might have come," said Edith, with a ringing laugh. "Would it not -have been odd, and so romantic, just to have come right along with -you?" - -"I am sure I would have enjoyed it," he said; "and by this time I would -have had you converted into farm hands." - -"And wearing calico dresses," said Edith. - -"And brogan shoes," said Star, remembering how she used to wear such -articles of clothing. - -"Yes; it is certain one can't work here and wear silks," responded -James. Then looking down at himself, he was reminded that he was still -in his rough garb. "If you ladies will excuse me, I will make myself -more presentable for appearance at dinner." - -He then left them; and when he returned, wearing his best Sunday suit, -all brushed and fitting him very well, he was equally as stylish looking -as his brother John in his best. - -When dinner was announced (dinner is at the noon hour with the mountain -people), John lead Edith and James lead Star to the bounteously laden -dining table set in the kitchen. It might have been noticed by Edith, -had she not been otherwise engaged, that Star was more aflush than ever -before, just at this period of her proud behavior. James talked to her -very entertainingly during the progress of the long meal, and she was -very cordial toward him. She laughed and talked with great glee, being -amused at his ready wit and simple manner. But John and Edith were -distressingly quiet, for some reason, listening mostly to the -conversation of the others. Little Anne, at times, cast side glances at -Edith and John, that might have been suggestive of their meaning. - -"Would you ladies like to try your hand at fishing?" asked James, who -was warming up for any kind of sport that might be introduced for the -entertainment of their guests. - -"Oh, delighted!" cried Edith. "I never fished in my life." - -"Nor I," said Star; "will you teach me how, Mr. Winthrope?" (meaning -James.) - -"I thought we old people were to entertain you this afternoon," said the -father. - -"We will return in time for that, father," James said, rising. "John, -I'll get the bait; you get the tackle, and we will teach these young -ladies how to fish." - -"Be careful," admonished the mother; "don't fall into the stream." - -"Anne, are you not going?" asked Edith, as she rose with the others. - -"I must remain here and help mother; and will await your return," said -Anne, as she came around to Edith and put her arm around her. - -"You are a dutiful child, Anne," said Edith, kissing Anne thereat. - -Edith and Star were both dressed in gray serge skirts, white silk waists -and sailor hats. While John and James got ready the ladies prepared -themselves for the event of their lives. They were in waiting on the -porch when John and James came up, with plenty of bait and tackle in -their hands. So off they went immediately: John and Edith together, and -James and Star, the father and mother and Anne standing on the porch -watching their going. - -They struck the mountain stream a mile below the house, and the two -ladies fell to the sport with the spirited joy of youth. The pair became -separated after awhile, as all such sportsmen and women often do. One -pair went up the stream, and one went down, after the elusive fish. - -John and Edith came to a pool, after wandering through the bypaths of -the forest, far below the other two. Around the pool the trees hung low, -and the shades were heavy, and the water was dark and deep. By the pool -they sat down on a log, and cast their lines to await the fisherman's -luck. - -"Isn't this delightful," said Edith, holding her pole with inexperienced -hands over the water. - -"Fish won't bite, if we talk too loud," said John, critically, but -pleasantly, as he sat below her on the log, slanting into the stream. - -She became quiet; he became quiet. The water trickled over the miniature -falls at the head of the pool in such an isolated tone of ripling that -it made wild sweet music for Edith. The trees above them sighed in a low -crescendo, and the birds were singing everywhere. The sun rays glinted -through the boughs of the trees, and danced upon the water, making a -fretted work of moving lights and shadows. Water riders ran back and -forth, as if playing with the sunlight let into their darksome place of -habitation, and fish jumped up now and then, as if to taunt the patient -anglers. And Edith and John sat quietly--waiting, waiting. - -Then a fish came along, and caught the bait of Edith's hook; and went -tearing away in its struggle for liberty. So sudden was the unlooked for -happening that Edith lost her balance, by reason of the gyrations of -the fish, which she pluckily attempted to land, and plunged into the -water. It came so sudden that John, who was at that moment meditating on -the catch he would make, and on how he would boast over the rest of them -when he got home, did not notice Edith's danger till it was too late. -Without a moment's reflection, however, he dropped his pole and leaped -into the pool after her. Edith came up with a scared look, beating the -water with her hands, as he went down by her side. He seized her around -the waist, and swam for the shore, and when they reached the shore, she -laughed, being reminded of another watery occasion; but still permitting -him to hold her in his arms. - -"I am a pretty sight now," she said, still remaining in his arms on the -sloping bank, up which he was assisting her. - -"It seems we have an affinity for water, Edith," he said, reaching the -top of the slope, still holding her in his arms. "May I call you Edith, -now?" he said, clasping her wet form to his. - -She laid her dripping head upon his breast, one arm stole around his -neck, and she looked up into his face. "Yes," she answered. And he -kissed her for the first time on those sweet lips that had so often -uttered his name before; but now they said, "John." And still he held -her in his arms. - -"Edith, will you be my wife, some day?" he asked, looking with the -fervor of an impassioned youth into her dear blue eyes, and pushing back -the wet hair from her white temples. - -"Why, yes; dear John, I love you, as I always have since the first time -I met you," she answered, with such an appealing tone for that old -responsive note in him that he pressed her closer to his bosom. And the -longing in her soul was recompensed in that moment of her eternal bliss. - -"You know me, Edith; you know my people now; you know what I am. Are you -satisfied?" he asked, still harboring that same old uncertain doubt that -always perplexed him so; and still holding her in his arms. - -"I know you to be a noble young man, dear John. I know your people now, -and I love them. I am satisfied," she whispered. "You are all that I -care for, John--all. I love you, I love you," and she kissed him. - -"I am satisfied, dear Edith. It was not an hallucination, after all, was -it dear?" he answered. - -Thus, plighting their troth, they went hand in hand up the shady wood -path as happy as two young children over their mishap. - -Life is beautiful, and life is sweet; but what would life be to those -young people without the love between them? - -Coming to the path where they left James and Star, on parting, they -found them sitting there, waiting. When Star saw them coming, she -instinctively comprehended, and knew that the crisis was over between -Edith and John. Star was happy herself over a secret of her own. And -together they returned home. - -John proudly, on arriving in the old-fashioned sitting room, announced -to his parents and sister his intended bride, and told them they could -take her now, in her bedraggled condition, for their daughter and -sister. - -"Now, will you go with me, Anne, to the city?" asked Edith, after she -had been costumed in some of Anne's clothing that fit her narrowly. "I -will educate you, and have you for my own dear sister," hugging Anne to -her breast. - -"Some day, Edith; some day," answered Anne, uncertain in her mind. "When -will you come after me?" - -"When I am your real sister, Anne," replied Edith, stroking Anne's -golden hair, and then she looked up at Anne's mother, who could not -fully realize what it meant for her future life. "You will let her go, -Mrs. Winthrope?" - -"I may some day," answered the good old mother. - -"I wouldn't want to leave papa and mamma yet, Edith," said Anne, with a -happy smile. - -"You shall return to see them often; so shall I," said Edith. - -"I will go some time, Edith, after you are my sister," answered the coy -Anne. - -"That will be soon, dear sister," said Edith, folding Anne in her arms -and crying with excessive happiness. "You may have two sisters soon, -Anne--Star, I am sure, will be your other sister." Star blushed, and -therefore told her tale. - -The family stood on the porch that evening, and listened to the receding -sound of the rattling wheels and squeaking springs of the rig, as John -drove away with his precious load. "God bless them," said the good old -father; and Anne cried when the last hoof beat came down the shadowy -roadway. In silence they sat in darkness till they heard the clanking -hoofs returning. The mother went in and lighted the lamp; the father -went in, the sister went in, the two brothers went in; and they all -knelt down in family worship. - -As the curtain of the passing night drew thickly over the mountains, and -the lights in the corridor of the Summit House became dim, and their -room dark, Edith knelt down by her bed and offered up her prayers to the -Good Lord, who had brought her safely through her troubles; and Star, -kneeling by her side, said, "Amen." - -A few days thereafter, after Edith had written her parents of the happy -culmination of her fishing trip, the following message was received by -her from them: "Congratulations." - -So endeth the story of Edith and John. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Edith and John, by Franklin S. Farquhar - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EDITH AND JOHN *** - -***** This file should be named 40116-8.txt or 40116-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/0/1/1/40116/ - -Produced by Charlene Taylor, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project -Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you -charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you -do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the -rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose -such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and -research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do -practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is -subject to the trademark license, especially commercial -redistribution. - - - -*** START: FULL LICENSE *** - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project -Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at -http://gutenberg.org/license). - - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy -all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. -If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the -terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or -entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" -or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the -collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an -individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are -located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from -copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative -works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg -are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project -Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by -freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of -this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with -the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by -keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project -Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in -a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check -the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement -before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or -creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project -Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning -the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United -States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate -access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently -whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, -copied or distributed: - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived -from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is -posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied -and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees -or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work -with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the -work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 -through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the -Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or -1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional -terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked -to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the -permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any -word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or -distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version -posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), -you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a -copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon -request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other -form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided -that - -- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is - owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he - has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the - Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments - must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you - prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax - returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and - sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the - address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to - the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." - -- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or - destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium - and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of - Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any - money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days - of receipt of the work. - -- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set -forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from -both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael -Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the -Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm -collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain -"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or -corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual -property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a -computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by -your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with -your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with -the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a -refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity -providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to -receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy -is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further -opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER -WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO -WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. -If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the -law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be -interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by -the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any -provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, -promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, -harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, -that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do -or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm -work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any -Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. - - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers -including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists -because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from -people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. -To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 -and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at -http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent -permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. -Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered -throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at -809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email -business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact -information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official -page at http://pglaf.org - -For additional contact information: - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To -SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any -particular state visit http://pglaf.org - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. -To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate - - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. -unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/40116-8.zip b/40116-8.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 99bf9ce..0000000 --- a/40116-8.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/40116-h.zip b/40116-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 8ac4557..0000000 --- a/40116-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/40116-h/40116-h.htm b/40116-h/40116-h.htm index 379ab16..2798e85 100644 --- a/40116-h/40116-h.htm +++ b/40116-h/40116-h.htm @@ -4,7 +4,7 @@ <html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> <title> The Project Gutenberg eBook of Edith And John, by Franklin S. Farquhar. @@ -172,48 +172,7 @@ table { </style> </head> <body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Edith and John, by Franklin S. Farquhar - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Edith and John - A Story of Pittsburgh - -Author: Franklin S. Farquhar - -Release Date: July 1, 2012 [EBook #40116] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EDITH AND JOHN *** - - - - -Produced by Charlene Taylor, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - -</pre> - - - +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40116 ***</div> <h1>EDITH AND JOHN</h1> @@ -3234,7 +3193,7 @@ complicated machinery of a big city, one Jacob Cobb—a short, squatty, round-faced, blue-eyed, clear-complexioned man of business, so far as anybody knew about his worldly affairs. Here his wife Betty, and daughters, Susanna and Marjorie, entertained the eclat of society -according to the à la mode of fashion; and many were the gay parties, +according to the à la mode of fashion; and many were the gay parties, balls and dinners that they gave for the select few constituting their circle of acquaintances.</p> @@ -11811,387 +11770,6 @@ her from them: "Congratulations."</p> <p>So endeth the story of Edith and John.</p> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Edith and John, by Franklin S. Farquhar - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EDITH AND JOHN *** - -***** This file should be named 40116-h.htm or 40116-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/0/1/1/40116/ - -Produced by Charlene Taylor, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project -Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you -charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you -do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the -rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose -such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and -research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do -practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is -subject to the trademark license, especially commercial -redistribution. - - - -*** START: FULL LICENSE *** - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project -Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at -http://gutenberg.org/license). - - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy -all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. -If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the -terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or -entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" -or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the -collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an -individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are -located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from -copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative -works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg -are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project -Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by -freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of -this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with -the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by -keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project -Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in -a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check -the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement -before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or -creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project -Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning -the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United -States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate -access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently -whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, -copied or distributed: - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived -from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is -posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied -and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees -or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work -with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the -work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 -through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the -Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or -1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional -terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked -to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the -permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any -word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or -distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version -posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), -you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a -copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon -request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other -form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided -that - -- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is - owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he - has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the - Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments - must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you - prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax - returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and - sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the - address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to - the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." - -- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or - destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium - and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of - Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any - money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days - of receipt of the work. - -- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set -forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from -both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael -Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the -Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm -collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain -"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or -corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual -property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a -computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by -your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with -your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with -the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a -refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity -providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to -receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy -is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further -opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER -WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO -WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. -If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the -law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be -interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by -the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any -provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, -promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, -harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, -that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do -or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm -work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any -Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. - - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers -including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists -because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from -people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. -To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 -and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at -http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent -permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. -Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered -throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at -809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email -business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact -information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official -page at http://pglaf.org - -For additional contact information: - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To -SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any -particular state visit http://pglaf.org - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. -To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate - - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. -unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - - -</pre> - +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40116 ***</div> </body> </html> diff --git a/40116.zip b/40116.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index a15b829..0000000 --- a/40116.zip +++ /dev/null |