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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Felix O'Day, by F. Hopkinson Smith
+#7 in our series by F. Hopkinson Smith
+
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+Title: Felix O'Day
+
+Author: F. Hopkinson Smith
+
+Release Date: March, 2004 [EBook #5229]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on June 9, 2002]
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+Edition: 10
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+Language: English
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+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FELIX O'DAY ***
+
+
+
+
+Etext produced by Duncan Harrod <fd_harrod@yahoo.com>
+
+
+
+
+
+Felix O'Day
+
+By
+F. Hopkinson Smith
+
+
+
+
+Felix O'Day
+
+
+
+
+Chapter I
+
+
+
+Broadway on dry nights, or rather that part known
+as the Great White Way, is a crowded thoroughfare,
+dominated by lofty buildings, the sky-line studded
+with constellations of colored signs pencilled in fire.
+Broadway on wet, rain-drenched nights is the fairy
+concourse of the Wonder City of the World, its asphalt
+splashed with liquid jewels afloat in molten gold.
+
+Across this flood of frenzied brilliance surge hurrying
+mobs, dodging the ceaseless traffic, trampling
+underfoot the wealth of the Indies, striding through
+pools of quicksilver, leaping gutters filled to the brim
+with melted rubies--horse, car, and man so many
+black silhouettes against a tremulous sea of light.
+
+Along this blinding whirl blaze the playhouses, their
+wide portals aflame with crackling globes, toward which
+swarm bevies of pleasure-seeking moths, their eyes
+dazzled by the glare. Some with heads and throats
+bare dart from costly broughams, the mountings of
+their sleek, rain-varnished horses glittering in the flash
+of the electric lamps. Others spring from out street
+cabs. Many come by twos and threes, their skirts
+held high. Still others form a line, its head lost in a
+small side door. These are in drab and brown, with
+worsted shawls tightly drawn across thin shoulders.
+Here, too, wedged in between shabby men, the collars
+of their coats muffling their chins, their backs to the
+grim policeman, stand keen-eyed newsboys and ragged
+street urchins, the price of a gallery seat in their tightly
+closed fists.
+
+Soon the swash and flow of light flooding the street
+and sidewalks shines the clearer. Fewer dots and
+lumps of man, cab, and cart now cross its surface.
+The crowd has begun to thin out. The doors of the
+theatres are deserted; some flaunt signs of "Standing
+Room Only." The cars still follow their routes,
+lunging and pausing like huge beetles; but much of
+the wheel traffic has melted, with only here and there
+a cab or truck between which gold-splashed umbrellas
+pick a hazardous way.
+
+With the breaking of the silent dawn, shadowed in
+a lonely archway or on an abandoned doorstep the
+wet, bedraggled body of a hapless moth is sometimes
+found, her iridescent wings flattened in the mud.
+Then for a brief moment a cry of protest, or scorn,
+or pity goes up. The passers-by raise their hands in
+anger, draw their skirts aside in horror, or kneel in
+tenderness. It is the same the world over, and New
+York is no better and, for that matter, no worse.
+
+
+On one of these rain-drenched nights, some ten
+years or more ago, when the streets were flooded with
+jewels, and the sky-line aflame, a man in a slouch
+hat, a wet mackintosh clinging to his broad shoulders,
+stood close to the entrance of one of the principal
+playhouses along this Great White Way. He
+had kept his place since the doors were opened, his
+hat-brim, pulled over his brow, his keen eye searching
+every face that passed. To all appearances he was
+but an idle looker-on, attracted by the beauty of
+the women, and yet during all that time he had not
+moved, nor had he been in the way, nor had he been
+observed even by the door man, the flap of the awning
+casting its shadow about him. Only once had he
+strained forward, gazing intently, then again relaxed,
+settling into his old position.
+
+Not until the last couple had hurried by, breathless
+at being late, did he refasten the top button of his
+mackintosh, move clear of the nook which had sheltered
+him, and step out into the open.
+
+For an instant he glanced about him, seemed to
+hesitate, as does a bit of driftwood blocked in the
+current; then, with a sudden straightening of his
+shoulders, he wheeled and threaded his way down-town.
+
+At Herald Square, he mounted with an aimless air
+a flight of low steps, peered though the windows, and
+listened to the crunch of the presses chewing the cud
+of the day's news. When others crowded close he
+stepped back to the sidewalk, raising his hat once in
+apology to an elderly dame who, with head down, had
+brushed him with her umbrella.
+
+By the time he reached 30th Street his steps had become
+slower. Again he hesitated, and again with an
+aimless air turned to the left, the rain still pelting his
+broad shoulders, his hat pulled closer to protect his
+face. No lights or color pursued him here. The fronts
+of the houses were shrouded in gloom; only a hall
+lantern now and then and the flare of the lamps at
+the crossings, he alone and buffeting the storm--all
+others behind closed doors. When Fourth Avenue
+was reached he lifted his head for the first time. A
+lighted window had attracted his attention--a wide,
+corner window filled with battered furniture, ill-
+assorted china, and dented brass--one of those popular
+morgues that house the remains of decayed respectability.
+
+Pausing automatically, he glanced carelessly at the
+contents, and was about to resume his way when he
+caught sight of a small card propped against a broken
+pitcher. "Choice Articles Bought and Sold--Advances
+Made."
+
+Suddenly he stopped. Something seemed to interest
+him. To make sure that he had read the card aright,
+he bent closer. Evidently satisfied by his scrutiny, he
+drew himself erect and moved toward the shop door
+as if to enter. Through the glass he saw a man in
+shirt-sleeves, packing. The sight of the man brought
+another change of mind, for he stepped back and raised
+his head to a big sign over the front. His face now came
+into view, with its well-modelled nose and square chin--
+the features of a gentleman of both refinement and intelligence.
+A man of forty--perhaps of forty-five--
+clean-shaven, a touch of gray about his temples, his
+eyes shadowed by heavy brows from beneath which
+now and then came a flash as brief and brilliant as an
+electric spark. He might have been a civil engineer,
+or some scientist, or yet an officer on half pay.
+
+"Otto Kling, 445 Fourth Avenue," he repeated to
+himself, to make sure of the name and location. Then,
+with the quick movement of a man suddenly imbued
+with new purpose, he wheeled, leaped the overflowed
+gutter, and walked rapidly until he reached 13th Street.
+Half-way down the block he entered the shabby doorway
+of an old-fashioned house, mounted to the third
+floor, stepped into a small, poorly furnished bedroom
+lighted by a single gas-jet, and closed the door behind
+him. Lifting his wet hat from his well-rounded head,
+with its smoothly brushed, closely trimmed hair--a
+head that would have looked well in bronze--he raised
+the edge of the bedclothes and from underneath the
+narrow cot dragged out a flat, sole-leather trunk of
+English make. This he unlocked with a key fastened
+to a steel chain, took out the tray, felt about among
+the contents, and drew out a morocco-covered dressing-
+case, of good size and of evident value, bearing on its
+top a silver plate inscribed with a monogram and crest.
+The trunk was then relocked and shoved under the bed.
+
+At this moment a knock startled him.
+
+"Come in," he called, covering the case with a corner
+of the cotton quilt.
+
+A bareheaded, coarse-featured woman with a black
+shawl about her shoulders stood in the doorway. "I've
+come for my money," she burst out, too angry for
+preliminaries. "I'm gittin' tired of bein' put off.
+You're two weeks behind."
+
+"Only two weeks? I was afraid it was worse, my
+dear madame," he answered calmly, a faint smile curling
+his thin lips. "You have a better head for figures
+than I. But do not concern yourself. I will pay you
+in the morning."
+
+"I've heard that before, and I'm gittin' sick of it.
+You'd 'a' been out of here last week if my husband
+hadn't been laid up with a lame foot."
+
+"I am sorry to hear about the foot. That must be
+even worse than my being behind with your rent."
+
+"Well, it's bad enough with all I got to put up with.
+Of course I don't want to be ugly," she went on, her
+fierceness dying out as she noticed his unruffled calm,
+"but these rooms is about all we've got, and we can't
+afford to take no chances."
+
+"Did you suppose I would let you?"
+
+"Let me what?"
+
+"Let you take chances. When I become convinced
+that I cannot pay you what I owe you, I will give you
+notice in advance. I should be much more unhappy
+over owing you such a debt than you could possibly
+be in not getting your money."
+
+The answer, so unlike those to which she had been
+accustomed from other delinquents, suddenly rekindled
+her anger. "Will some of them friends of yours that
+never show up bring you the money?" she snapped
+back.
+
+"Have you met any of them on the stairs?" he
+inquired blandly.
+
+"No, nor nowhere else. You been here now goin'
+on three months, and there ain't come a letter, nor
+nothin' by express, and no man, woman, or child has
+asked for you. Kinder queer, don't you think?"
+
+"Yes, I do think so; and I can hardly blame you.
+It IS suspicious--VERY suspicious--alarmingly so," he
+rejoined with an indulgent smile. Then growing grave
+again: "That will do, madame. I will send for you
+when I am ready. Do not lose any sleep and do not
+let your husband lose any. I will shut the door
+myself."
+
+When the clatter of her rough shoes had ceased to
+echo on the stairs he drew the dressing-case from its
+hiding-place, tucked it inside his mackintosh, turned
+down the gas-jet, locked the door of the room, retracing
+his steps until he stood once more in front of Kling's
+sign. This time he went in.
+
+"I am glad you are still open," he began, shaking the
+wet from his coat. "I hoped you would be. You are
+Mr. Kling, are you not?"
+
+"Yes, dot is my name. Vot can I do for you?"
+
+"I passed by your window a short time ago, and saw
+your card, stating that advances were made on choice
+articles. Would this be of any use to you?" He
+took the dressing-case from under his coat and handed
+it to Kling. "I am not ready to sell it--not to sell it
+outright; you might, perhaps, make me a small loan
+which would answer my purpose. Its value is about
+sixty pounds--some three hundred dollars of your
+money. At least, it cost that. It is one of Vickery's,
+of London, and it is almost new."
+
+Kling glanced sharply at the intruder. "I don't
+keep open often so late like dis. You must come in
+de morning."
+
+"Cannot you look at it now?"
+
+Something in the stranger's manner appealed to the
+dealer. He lowered his chin, adjusted his spectacles,
+and peered over their round silver rims--a way with
+him when he was making up his mind.
+
+"Vell, I don't mind. Let me see," and opening the
+case he took out the silver-topped bottles, placing them
+in a row on the counter behind which he stood. "Yes,
+dot's a good vun," he continued with a grunt of approval.
+"Yes--dot's London, sure enough. Yes, I
+see Vickery's name--whose initials is on dese bottles?
+And de arms--de lion and de vings on him--dot
+come from somebody high up, ain't it? Vhere did you
+get 'em?"
+
+"That is of no moment. What I want to know is,
+will you either pay me a fair price for it or loan me a
+fair sum on it?"
+
+"Is it yours to sell?"
+
+"It is." There was no trace of resentment in his
+voice, nor did he show the slightest irritation at being
+asked so pointed a question.
+
+"Vell, I don't keep a pawn-shop. I got no license,
+and if I had I vouldn't do it--too much trouble all de
+time. Poor vomans, dead-beats, suckers, sneak-thieves
+--all kind of peoples you don't vant, to come in the
+door vhen you have a pawn-shop."
+
+"Your sign said advances made."
+
+"Vich vun?"
+
+"The one in the window, or I would not have
+troubled you."
+
+"Vell, dot means anyting you please. Sometimes I
+get olt granfadder vatches dot vay, and olt Sheffield
+plate and tings vich olt families sell vhen everybody
+is gone dead. Vy do you vant to give dis away? I
+vouldn't, if I vas you. You don't look like a man
+vot is broke. I vill put back de bottles. You take
+it home agin."
+
+"I would if I had any home to take it to. I am a
+stranger here and am two weeks behind in the rent of
+my room."
+
+"Is dot so? Vell, dot is too bad. Two weeks behint
+and no home but a room! I vouldn't think dot to look
+at you."
+
+"I would not either if I had the courage to look at
+myself in the glass. Then you cannot help me?"
+
+"I don't say dot I can't. Somebody may come in.
+I have lots of tings belong to peoples, and ven other
+peoples come in, sometimes dey buy, and sometimes dey
+don't. Sometimes only one day goes by, and sometimes
+a whole year. You leave it vid me. I take care of it.
+Den I get my little Masie--dat little girl of mine vot I
+call Beesvings--to polish up all de bottles and make
+everyting look like new."
+
+"Then I will come in the morning?"
+
+"Yes, but give me your name--someting might happen
+yet, and your address. Here, write it on dis card."
+
+"No, that is unnecessary. I will take your word
+for it."
+
+"But vere can I find you?"
+
+"I will find myself, thank you," and he strode
+out into the rain.
+
+
+
+
+Chapter II
+
+
+
+In the days when Otto Kling's shop-windows attracted
+collectors in search of curios and battered furniture,
+"The Avenue," as its denizens always called
+Fourth Avenue between Madison Square Garden and
+the tunnel, was a little city in itself.
+
+Almost all the needs of a greater one could be supplied
+by the stores fronting its sidewalks. If tea, coffee,
+sugar, and similar stimulating and soothing groceries
+were wanted, old Bundleton, on the corner above
+Kling's, in a white apron and paper cuffs, weighed them
+out. If it were butter or eggs, milk, cream, or curds,
+the Long Island Dairy--which was really old man
+Heffern, his daughter Mary, and his boy Tom--had
+them in a paper bag, or on your plate, or into your
+pitcher before you could count your change. If it were
+a sirloin, or lamb-chops, or Philadelphia chickens, or a
+Cincinnati ham, fat Porterfield, watched over from her
+desk by fat Mrs. Porterfield, dumped them on a pair
+of glittering brass scales and sent them home to your
+kitchen invitingly laid out in a flat wicker basket. If
+it were fish--fresh, salt, smoked, or otherwise--to say
+nothing of crabs, oysters, clams, and the exclusive and
+expensive lobster--it was Codman, a few doors above
+Porterfield's, who had them on ice, or in barrels, the
+varnished claws of the lobsters thrust out like the hands
+of a drowning man.
+
+Were it a question of drugs, there was Pestler, the
+apothecary, with his four big green globes illuminated
+by four big gas-jets, the joy of the children. A small
+fellow this Pestler, with a round head and up-brushed
+hair set on a long, thin stem of a neck, the whole growing
+out of a pair of narrow shoulders, quite like a tulip
+from a glass jar.
+
+And then there were Jarvis, the spectacle man, and
+that canny Scotchman Sanderson, the florist, who knew
+the difference between roses a week old and roses a
+day old, and who had the rare gift of so mixing the two
+vintages that hardly enough dead stock was left over
+for funerals including those presided over by his fellow
+conspirator Digwell, the undertaker, who lived
+over his mausoleum of a back room.
+
+And, of course, there were the bakeshop emitting
+enticing smells, mostly of currants and burnt sugar,
+and the hardware store, full of nails and pocket-knives,
+and old Mr. Jacobs, the tailor, who sat cross-legged
+on a wide table in a room down four stone steps from
+the sidewalk, and the grog-shops--more's the pity--
+one on every corner save Kling's.
+
+Hardly a trace is now left of any one of them, so
+sudden and overwhelming has been the march of
+modern progress. Even the little Peter Cooper House,
+picked up bodily by that worthy philanthropist and
+set down here nearly a hundred years ago, is gone,
+and so are the row of musty, red-bricked houses at the
+lower end of this Little City in Itself. And so are
+the tenants of this musty old row, shady locksmiths
+with a tendency toward skeleton keys; ingenious
+upholsterers who indulged in paper-hanging on the sly;
+shoemakers who did half-soling and heeling, their
+day's work set to dry on the window-sill, not to mention
+those addicted to the use of the piano, banjo,
+or harp, as well as the wig and dress makers who
+lightened the general gloom.
+
+And with the disappearance of these old landmarks--
+and it all took place within less than ten years--there
+disappeared, also, the old family life of "The Avenue,"
+in which each home shared in the good-fellowship of
+the whole, all of them contributing to that sane and
+sustaining stratum, if we did but know it, of our civic
+structure--facts that but few New Yorkers either recognize
+or value.
+
+
+On the block below Kling's in those other days
+was the quaint Book Shop owned by Tim Kelsey, the
+hunchback, a walking encyclopaedia of knowledge,
+much of it as musty and out of date as most of his
+books; while overtopping all else in importance, so far
+as this story is concerned, was the shabby, old-fashioned
+two-story house known the town over as the
+Express Office of John and Kitty Cleary, sporting above
+its narrow street-door a swinging sign informing inquirers
+that trunks were carried for twenty-five cents.
+
+And not only trunks, but all of the movable furniture
+up and down the avenue, and most of that from the
+adjacent regions, found their way in and out of the
+Cleary wagons. Indeed Otto Kling's confidence in
+Kitty--and Kitty was really the head of the concern
+--was so great that he always refused to allow any of
+her rivals to carry his purchases and sales, even at a
+reduced price, a temptation seldom resisted by the
+economical Dutchman.
+
+Nor did the friendly relations end here. Not only
+did Kitty's man Mike hammer up at night the rusty
+iron shutters protecting Kling's side window, clean
+away the snow before his store, and lend a hand in the
+moving of extra-heavy pieces, but he was even known
+to wash the windows and kindle a fire.
+
+That Mike had delayed or entirely forgotten to
+hammer up these same iron shutters when the stranger
+brought in the dressing-case accounted for the fact of
+Otto Kling's shop having been kept open until so late.
+It also accounted for the fact that when the same
+stranger appeared early the next morning (Mike was
+tending the store) and made his way to where the Irishman
+sat he found him conning the head-lines of the
+morning paper. That worthy man-of-all-work, never
+having laid eyes on him before, at once made a mental
+note of the intruder's well-cut English clothes, heavy
+walking-shoes, and short brier-wood pipe, and, concluding
+therefrom that he was a person of importance,
+stretched out his hand toward the bell-rope in connection
+with the breakfast-room above, at the same time
+saying with great urbanity: "Take a chair, or, if yer
+cold, come up near the stove. Mr. Kling will be down
+in a minute. He's up-stairs eatin' his breakfast with his
+little girl. I'm not his man or I'd wait on ye meself.
+A little fresh, ain't it, after the wet night we had?"
+
+"I left a dressing-case here last night," ventured the
+intruder.
+
+Mike's chin went out with a quick movement, his
+face expressive of supreme disgust at his mistake.
+"Oh, is it that? Somethin' ye had to sell? Well, then,
+maybe you'd better call durin' the day."
+
+"No, I will wait--you need not ring. I have nothing
+else to do, and Mr. Kling may have a great deal.
+I take it you are from the north of Ireland, either
+Londonderry or near there. Am I right?"
+
+"I'm from Lifford, within reach of it. How the divil
+did ye know?"
+
+"I can tell from your brogue. How long have you
+been in this country?"
+
+"About five years--going on six now. How long
+have you been here?"
+
+"How long? Well--" Here he bent over the table
+against which he had been leaning, selected a cup from
+a group of china, turned it upside down in search of
+the mark, and then, as if he had momentarily forgotten
+himself, answered slowly: "Oh, not long--a few
+months or so. You do not object to my looking these
+over?" he asked, this time reversing a plate and subjecting
+it to the same scrutiny.
+
+"No, so ye don't let go of 'em. Fellow come in here
+last week and broke a teapot foolin' wid it."
+
+The visitor, without replying, continued his cool
+examination of the collection, consisting of articles of
+different makes and colors. Presently, gathering up
+a pair of cups and saucers, he said: "These should
+be in a glass case or in the safe. They are old Spode
+and very rare. Ah, here is Mr. Kling! I have amused
+myself, sir, in looking over part of your stock. You
+seem to have undervalued these cups and saucers.
+They are very rare, and if you had a full set of them
+they would be almost priceless. This is old Spode,"
+he continued, pointing to the cipher on the bottom of
+each cup.
+
+"Vell, I didn't tink dot ven I bought it."
+
+There was no greeting, no reference to their having
+met before. One might have supposed that their last
+talk had been uninterrupted.
+
+"It vas all in a lump, and der vas a soup tureen in
+de lot--I don't know vot I did vid it. I tink dat's
+up-stairs. Mike, you go up and ask my little girl
+Masie if she can find dot big tureen vich I bought
+from old Mrs. Blobbs who keeps dot old-clothes place
+on Second Avenue. And you vas sure about dis
+china?"
+
+"Very sure."
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"From the mark."
+
+"Vot's it vorth?"
+
+"The cups and saucers would bring about two pounds
+apiece in London. If there were a full dozen they
+would bring a matter of fifteen or twenty pounds--
+some hundred dollars of your money."
+
+Kling stepped nearer and peered intently at the
+stranger. "You give dot for dem?"
+
+The man's eyebrows narrowed. "I am not buying
+cups at present," he answered, with quiet dignity, "but
+they are worth what I tell you.
+
+"And now tell me vot dis tureen is vorth?" he asked
+as Mike reappeared and set it on the table, backing
+away with the remark that he'd go now, Mrs. Cleary
+would be wantin' him. Kling moved the relic toward
+the expert for closer examination.
+
+"Don't trouble yourself, Mr. Kling; I can see it. All
+I can say is that the old lady must have known better
+days and must have been terribly poor to have parted
+with it. What, if I may ask, did you pay her for
+this?"
+
+"Two dollars. Vas it too much?" The stranger
+had suddenly become an important personage.
+
+"No--too little. It is old Lowestoft, and"--here he
+took the lid from the dealer's hand--"yes, without a
+crack or blemish--yes, old Lowestoft--worth, I should
+say, ten or more pounds. They are giving large sums
+for these things in London. Perhaps you have not
+made a specialty of china."
+
+Otto had now forgotten the tureen and was scrutinizing
+the speaker, wondering what kind of a man
+he really was--this fellow who looked and spoke like
+a person of position, knew the value of curios at sight,
+and yet who had confessed the night before to being
+behind with his rent and anxious to sell his belongings
+to keep off the street. Then the doubt, universal in
+the minds of second-hand dealers, arose. "Come along
+vid me and tell me some more. Vot is dot chair?"
+and he drew out a freshly varnished relic of better
+days.
+
+The man seized the chair by the back, canted it to
+see all sides of it, and was about to give his decision
+when the laughter of a child and the sharp, quick bark
+of a dog caused him to pause and raise his head. A
+white fox-terrier with a clothes-pin tail, two scissored
+ears, and two restless, shoe-button eyes, peering through
+button-hole lids, followed by a little girl ten or twelve
+years of age, was regarding him suspiciously.
+
+"He won't hurt you," cried the child. "Come back,
+you naughty Fudge!"
+
+"I do not intend he shall," said the man, reaching
+down and picking the dog up bodily by the scruff of
+his neck. "What is the matter, old fellow?" he continued,
+twisting the dog's head so that he could look
+into his eyes. "Wanted to make a meal of me?--
+too bad. Your little daughter, of course, Mr. Kling?
+A very good breed of dog, my dear young lady--just
+a little nervous, and that is in his favor. Now, sir,
+make your excuses to your mistress," and he placed
+the terrier in her arms.
+
+The child lifted her face toward his in delight. Most
+of the men whom Fudge attacked either shrunk out
+of his way or replied to his attentions with a kick.
+
+"You love dogs, don't you, sir?" she asked. Fudge
+was now routing his sharp nose under her chin as if
+in apology for his antics.
+
+"I am afraid I do, and I am glad you do--they are
+sometimes the best friends one has."
+
+"Yes," broke in Kling, "and so am I glad. Dot dog
+is more as a brudder to my Masie, ain't he, Beesvings?
+And now you run avay, dear, and play, and take
+Fudge vid you and say 'Good morning' to Mrs. Cleary,
+and maybe dot fool dog of Bobby's be home." He
+stooped and kissed her, caressing her cheek with his
+thumb and forefinger, as he pushed her toward the
+door, and again turned to the stranger. "And now,
+vot about dot chair you got in your hand?"
+
+"Oh, the chair! I had forgotten that you had asked.
+Your little daughter drove everything else out of my
+head. Let me have a closer look." He swung it
+round to get a nearer view.
+
+"The legs--that is, three of them--are Chippendale.
+The back is a nondescript of something--I cannot tell.
+Perhaps from some colonial remnant."
+
+"Vot's it vorth?"
+
+"Nothing, except to sit upon."
+
+Otto laughed--a gurgling, chuckling laugh, his pudgy
+nose wrinkling like a rabbit's.
+
+"Ain't dot funny!" and he rubbed his fat hands.
+"Dot's true. Yes, I make it myselluf--and five oders,
+vich vas sold out of a lot of olt furniture. I got two
+German men down-stairs puttin' in new legs and new
+backs; dey can do anyting. Nobody but you find
+dot out. I guess you know 'bout dot china--I must
+look into dot. Maybe some mens on Fifth Avenue buy
+dot china--dey never come in here because dey tink
+dey find only olt furniture. And now about dot
+dressing-case. Don't you sell it. I find somebody pay
+more as I can give, and you pay me for my trouble.
+I lend you tventy--yes, I lend tventy-five dollars on
+it. Vill dot be enough?"
+
+"That will be enough for a week, after I pay what
+I owe."
+
+"Vell, den, ven dot is gone ve tink out someting else,
+don't ve? I look it all over last night. It is all right--
+no breaks anyvere. And dot tventy-five only last you
+a veek! Vy is dot? Vot board do you pay?" His
+interest in the visitor was increasing.
+
+"Eight dollars with my meals, whenever my landlady
+is on time."
+
+"Eight dollars! Dot voman's robbin' you. Eight
+dollars! She is a skin!"
+
+"It was the best I could do," he replied simply.
+
+"Vot does she give you?"
+
+"A small bedroom, my coffee in the morning, and
+my dinner--both served in my room on a tray."
+
+"Yes, I see; dot's it. She charge about tree dollars
+for de tray. I find you someting better as dot. Kitty
+Cleary has a room--you don't know Kitty? Vell, you
+ought to begin right avay. Dot's vun voman you don't
+ever see again. She vas in here last night, after you
+left, looking for her man Mike. She take you for five
+dollars a veek, maybe, and you get good tings to eat
+and you get Kitty besides, and dot is vorth more as ten
+dollars. She lives across de street--you can see one of
+her vagons--dot big vite horse is hers, and she love dot
+horse as much as she love her husband John and her
+boy Bobby, all but dot fool dog of Bobby's, she don't
+love him. You go over dere and tell her I sent you."
+
+The stranger had relighted his pipe, and was watching
+the dealer clutching nervously at his spectacles,
+pushing them far up on his forehead, only to readjust
+them again on his nose. He had begun to detect
+behind the fat, round face of the thrifty shopkeeper
+a certain kindly quality. "And who may this remarkable
+lady be, this Mrs. Cleary?" he inquired.
+
+"She ain't no lady. She is better as a hundert ladies
+--she is joost a plain vomans who keeps a express office
+over dere--Cleary's Express. You don't know it?
+Vell, dot's your fault. Dot's her boy Bobby outside
+de door. He has been up vid his fadder to de Grand
+Central for some sideboards and sofas I been buyin'.
+You vant to look at 'em ven dey git unloaded. They
+joost ready to fall to pieces, and if I patch 'em up
+nobody don't buy 'em. Vot I do is to leave 'em out
+on de sidewalk for a veek or two and let de dirt and
+rain get on 'em, den somebody come along and say:
+'Dot is genuine. You can see right avay how olt dot
+is. Dot is because de bottom is out of de sofas, and
+de back of de behind of de sideboard is busted. So den I
+get fifty dollars more for repairin' my own furniture.
+Ain't dot funny? And ven I send it home dey say:
+'Oh, ain't dot beautiful! You ought to have seen
+dot ven I bought it of old Kling! You vouldn't give
+two dollars for it. All he did vas to scrape it down
+and revarnish it--and now it is joost as good as new.'
+Ain't dot funny? Vy, sometimes I have to holt
+on to my sides for fear dey vill split vid my laughter,
+and my two German mens dey stuff dere fingers in
+dere mouths so de customers can't hear. And all
+de backs new, and de legs made outer udder legs,
+and de handles I get across at de hardvare store!
+Oh, I tell you, it's funny! But you know all about
+it. Maybe you vunce keep a place yourself?"
+
+"No, never."
+
+"VOT!"
+
+"No, I have never been in your line of trade."
+
+"Vell, how do you know so much?"
+
+"I know very little, but I have always enjoyed such
+things."
+
+"Vell, dot's more funny yet. You vould make a lot
+of money if you did. Ven you get someting for nudding
+you know it--I don't. You see dem--vot you
+call 'em--Spodes--and dot tureen, dot--"
+
+"Lowestoft?" suggested the stranger, adjusting
+the mouthpiece of his pipe.
+
+"Yes, dot Lowestoft. If you come in yesterday and
+say, 'Have you any olt cups and saucers and olt soup
+tureens?' I say: 'Yes--help yourselluf. Take your
+pick for tventy-five cents each for de cups and saucers.'
+You see, I pay nudding and I get nudding. Dot give
+me an idea! How vould you like to go round de store
+vid me and pick out de good vuns? Dot von't take
+you long--vait a minute--I give you dat money."
+
+"I should not be of the slightest value, and if you are
+loaning me the twenty-five dollars on any other basis
+than the worth of the dressing-case, I would rather not
+take it."
+
+"Oh, I have finished vid de loan. Vot I say I say."
+He thrust his hand into a side pocket, from which
+he drew a flat wallet. "And dere is de money. I give
+you a receipt for de case."
+
+"No, I do not want any receipt. I am quite willing
+you should keep it until I can either pay this back or
+you can loan me some more on it."
+
+"Vell, den, I don't vant no receipt for de money.
+Here comes a customer. Don't you go yet. I know
+her. She comes most every day. She only vants to
+look around. Such a lot of peoples only vants to look
+around. Dey don't know vat dey vant and you never
+have it. No, it ain't no customer--it's Bobby."
+
+The door was burst open, and a boy in a blue jumper,
+his cap thrust so far back on his head that it was a
+wonder it didn't fall off, cried out:
+
+"Say! One of the sideboards is stuck on the iron
+railing and we can't get it furrards or back. Them
+two weiss-beers ye got down-stairs can't lift nothin'
+but full mugs. Send somebody to help." And the door
+went to with a bang.
+
+Kling was about to call for assistance when Hans
+--one of the maligned--shuffled in from the rear of
+the store, carrying a wooden image very much in want
+of repair.
+
+"Oh, dots awful good you brought dot! Set it here on
+dis chair--now you go avay and help vid dem sideboards.
+See here vunce, mister. You see, dey vas makin' de
+altar over new, and one of de mens come to me last week
+and he says: 'Mister Kling, come vid me and buy vot
+ve don't vant. De school is too small, and some of de
+children got no place to sit down in. Ve got to sell
+sometings, and maybe now ve don't vant dem images.'
+And so I buy dem two and some olt vestments dat
+my Masie make so good as new, vid patches. Now,
+vot can I do vid dis--?"
+
+Again the door was burst open, shutting off all possibility
+for conversation. Bobby's voice had now
+reached the volume of a fog-horn. "What do ye take
+us fur out here--lobsters? Dad and I can't wait all
+day. He's got to go down to Lafayette Place for a
+trunk."
+
+Kling looked at his companion, as if to see what
+effect the talk had had upon him, and broke out into a
+suffocating chuckle. "Dot's vot it is all day long--
+don't you yonder I go crazy? First it is sideboards
+and den it is vooden saints. Here you, Bobby! Come
+inside vunce! I vant to ask you sometings."
+
+"Say the rest, Skeesicks," returned the boy, eying
+the stranger.
+
+"Has your mudder got empty dot room yet?"
+
+"Yep--the shyster got to swearin', and the mother
+wouldn't stand for it and she fired him. We ain't
+keepin' no house o' refuge nor no station parlor fer
+bums. Holy Moses! look at the guy that's been robbin'
+a church! And see the nose on him all busted!
+Have ye started them mugs?"
+
+Kling cleared the air with his fat hands as the boy
+made for the door, and turned to his visitor once more.
+"Dot boy make me deaf vid his noise like a fire-engine!
+Now, vunce more. Vat shall I do vid dis image?"
+
+"I give it up," observed the stranger, passing his
+hand over the head and down its side. "I am not
+very much on saints--wooden ones, I mean. He seems
+a good deal out of place here. Why buy such things at
+all, and why sell them? But that, of course, is not your
+point of view. I would send it back to the good father,
+if I were you, and have him put it behind the altar if
+he is ashamed to put it in front. Holy things belong
+to holy places. But I am already taking up too much
+of your time. Thank you very much for the money.
+It comes at an opportune moment. I shall come in
+once in a while to see you and, if you are willing, to
+talk to you."
+
+"But you don't say nudding about Kitty's room.
+Vait till--oh, dere you are, you darlin' girl! You mind
+de store, Masie. Now you come vid me and I show
+you de finest vomans you never see in your whole
+life!"
+
+
+
+
+Chapter III
+
+
+
+Kitty Cleary's wide sidewalk, littered with trunks,
+and her narrow, choked-up office, its window hung
+with theatre bills and chowder-party posters, all of
+which were in full view of Kling's doorway, was the
+half-way house of any one who had five minutes to
+spare; it was inside its walls that closer greetings
+awaited those who, even with the thinnest of excuses,
+made bold to avail themselves of her hospitality.
+Drivers from the livery-stable next door, where
+Kitty kept her own two horses; the policeman on
+the beat; the night-watchman from the big store
+on 28th Street, just off duty, or just going on; the newsman
+in the early morning, who would use her benches
+on which to rearrange his deliveries--all were welcome
+as long as they behaved themselves. When they did
+not--and once or twice such a thing had occurred--
+she would throw wide the door and, with a quick
+movement of her right thumb, order them out, a look
+in her eye convincing the culprits at once that they
+might better obey.
+
+Never a day passed but there was a pot of coffee
+simmering away at the back of the kitchen stove.
+Indeed, hot coffee was Kitty's standby. Many a night
+when she was up late poring over her delivery book,
+getting ready for the next day's work, a carriage or cab
+would drive into the livery-stable next door, and she
+would send her husband out to bring in the coachman.
+
+"Half froze, he is, waitin' outside Sherry's or Delmonico's,
+and nobody thinkin' of what he suffers. Go,
+git him, John, dear, and I'll stir up the fire. They
+ought to be ashamed of themselves, dancin' till God
+knows when--and here it is two o'clock and a string
+of cabs out in the cold. Thank ye, John. In with ye,
+my lad, and get something to warm ye up," and then
+the rosy-cheeked, deep-breasted, cheery little woman--
+she was under forty--her eyes the brighter for her
+thought, would begin pulling down cups and saucers
+from her dresser, making ready not only for the "lad,"
+but for John and herself--and anybody else who happened
+to be within call.
+
+The hospitalities of her family sitting-room, opening
+out of the kitchen, were reserved for her intimates.
+These she welcomed at any hour of the day or night,
+from sunrise to sunset, and even as late as two in
+the morning, if either business or pleasure necessitated
+such hours.
+
+Tim Kelsey, the hunchback, often dropped in. Otto
+Kling, after Masie was abed; Digwell, the undertaker,
+quite a jolly fellow during off hours; Codman
+and Porterfield, with their respective wives; and, most
+welcome of all, Father Cruse, of St. Barnabas's Church
+around the corner, the trusted shepherd of "The
+Avenue"--a clear-skinned, well-built man, barely forty,
+whose muscular body just filled his black cassock so
+that it neither fell in folds nor wrinkled crosswise, and
+whose fresh, ruddy face was an index of the humane,
+kindly, helpful life that he led. For him Kitty could
+never do enough.
+
+The office, sitting-room, and kitchen, however, were
+not all that the expressman and his wife possessed
+in the way of accommodations. Up-stairs were two
+front bedrooms, one occupied by John and Kitty, and
+the other by their boy Bobby, while in the extreme
+rear, over the kitchen, was a single room which was
+let to any respectable man who could pay for it. These
+rooms were all reached by a staircase ascending from a
+narrow hall entered by a separate street-door adjoining
+that of the office. The door and staircase were convenient
+for the lodger wishing to stumble up to bed
+without disturbing his hosts--an event, however, that
+seldom happened, as Kitty was generally the last person
+awake in her house.
+
+The horses, as has been said, were kept in the livery-
+stable next door--the brown mare, a recent purchase,
+and the old white horse, Jim, the pride of Kitty's heart,
+in a special stall. The wagons were either backed
+in the shed in the rear or left overnight close to the
+curb, with chains on the hind wheels. This was contrary
+to regulations, and would have been so considered
+but for the fact that the captain of the precinct
+often got his coffee in Kitty's back kitchen, as did
+Tom McGinniss, the big policeman, whose beat reached
+nearly to the tunnel, both men soothing their consciences
+with the argument that Kitty's job lasted so
+late and began so early, sometimes a couple of hours
+or so before daylight, that it was not worth while to
+bother about her wagons, when everybody else was in
+bed, or ought to be.
+
+She was smoothing old Jim's neck, crooning over him,
+talking to him in her motherly way, telling him what a
+ruffian he was and how ashamed she was of him for
+getting the hair worn off under his collar, and he a
+horse old enough to know better, Bobby's "Toodles,"
+an animated doormat of a dog, sniffing at her skirt,
+when Otto and his friend hove in sight.
+
+"The top of the mornin' to ye, Otto Kling, and ye
+never see a better and a finer. And what can I do for
+ye?--for ye wouldn't be lavin' them gimcracks of
+yours this time O'day unless there was somethin' up."
+
+"No, I don't got nudding you can do for me, Kitty.
+It's dis gentlemans wants someting--and so I bring
+him over."
+
+"That's mighty kind of ye, Otto--wait till I get me
+book. Careful, Mike." The Irishman had just dumped
+a trunk on the sidewalk, ready to be loaded on Jim's
+wagon. "And now," continued his mistress, "go to
+the office and bring me my order-book--where'll I go
+for your baggage, sir?"
+
+"That is a matter I will talk about later." He had
+taken her all in with a rapid glance--her rosy, laughing
+face, her head covered by a close-fitting hood, the warm
+shawl crossed over her full bosom and knotted in the
+back, short skirt, stout shoes, and gray yarn stockings.
+
+"I don't care where it is--Hoboken, Brooklyn--I'll
+get it. Why, we got a trunk last week clear from
+Yonkers!"
+
+"I haven't a doubt of it, my good woman"--he
+was still absorbed in the contemplation of her perfect
+health and the air of breezy competency flowing
+out from her, making even the morning air seem more
+exhilarating--"but you may not want to go for my
+two trunks."
+
+"Why not?" She was serious now, her brows knitting,
+trying to solve his meaning.
+
+Kling shuffled up alongside. "It's de room he vants,
+Kitty. I been tellin' him about it. Bobby says dot
+odder man skipped an' you don't got nobody now.
+
+"Skipped! I threw him out, me and John, for
+swearin' every time he stubbed his toe on the stairs,"
+and up went her strong arms in illustration. "And it
+isn't yer trunks, but me room. Who might ye be
+wantin' it for?" She had begun to weigh him carefully
+in return. Up to this moment he had been to her
+merely the mouthpiece of an order, to be exchanged
+later for a card, or slip of paper, or a brass check. Now
+he became a personality. She swept him from head to
+foot with one of her "sizing-up" examinations, noticing
+the refinement and thoughtfulness of his clean-shaven
+face, the white teeth, and the careful trimming of his
+hair, and the way it grew down on his temples, forming
+a small quarter whisker.
+
+She noted, too, how the muscles of his face had been
+tightened as if some effort at self-control had set them
+into a mask, the real man lying behind his kindly eyes,
+despite the quick flash that escaped from them now and
+then. The inspection over--and it had occupied some
+seconds of time--she renewed the inquiry in a more
+searching tone, as if she had not heard him aright at
+first. "And who did ye say wanted me room?"
+
+"I wanted it."
+
+"Yes, but who for?"
+
+"For myself."
+
+"What! To live in?"
+
+"I hope so--I certainly do not want it to die in."
+A quiet smile trembled for an instant on his lips, momentarily
+lightening an expression of extreme reserve.
+
+"You won't do no dyin' if I can help it--but ye
+don't know what kind a room it is. It's not mor'n
+twice as big as that wagon. And ye want it for yourself?
+Well, ye don't look it!"
+
+"I am sorry."
+
+"And it's only five dollars a week, and all ye want
+to eat--all we can give ye."
+
+"I am glad it is not more. I may not be able to pay
+that for very long, but I will pay the first week in advance,
+and I will pay the next one in the same way and
+leave when my money is gone. Can I see the room?"
+
+Again she studied him. This time it was the gray
+waistcoat, the well-ironed shirt and collar, English
+scarf, and the blackthorn stick which he carried
+balanced in the hollow of his arm. If he had been in
+overalls she would not have hesitated an instant, but
+she saw that this man was not of her class, nor of any
+other class about her. "I don't know whether ye can
+or not," came the frank reply. "I'm thinkin' about it.
+You don't look as if ye were flat broke. If you're goin'
+to take me room, I don't want to be watchin' ye, and I
+won't! Once we know ye're clean and decent, ye can
+have the run of the place and welcome to it. We had
+one dead-beat here last month, and that's enough. Out
+with it now! How is it that a"--she hesitated an
+instant--"yes, a gentleman like you wants to live over
+an express office and eat what we can give ye?"
+
+He made a slight movement with his right hand in
+acknowledgment of the class distinction and answered
+in a calm, straightforward way: "You have put it
+quite correctly. I am, as you are pleased to state it,
+flat broke--quite flat."
+
+"Well, then, how will ye pay me?" Her question,
+a certain curiosity tinged by a growing interest in
+for all its directness, implied no suspicion--but rather
+the man.
+
+"I have just borrowed twenty-five dollars from Mr.
+Kling on something which, for the present, I can do
+without."
+
+"Pawned it?"
+
+"No, not exactly. Mr. Kling will explain."
+
+"It vas dot dressin'-case, Kitty, vat I showed you
+last night--de vun vid dem bottles vid de silver tops--
+and dey are real--I found dot out after you vent
+avay."
+
+Kitty's glance softened, and her voice fell to a
+sympathetic tone. "Oh, that was yours, was it? I
+might have known I was right about ye when I first
+see ye. Ye are a gentleman, unless ye are a thief,
+and I don't belave that--nor nobody can make me
+belave it."
+
+Once more his hand was raised, and a smile flashed
+from his eyes and as quickly died out.
+
+"That is very good of you, Mrs. Cleary. No, I am
+not a thief. And now about the room. Can I see it?
+But, before you answer, let me tell you that I have
+only these twenty-five dollars on which I can lay my
+hands. Some of this I owe to my landlady. The
+balance I am quite willing to turn over to you, and
+when it is all gone I will move somewhere else." He
+drew a silver watch from his pocket. "You must decide
+at once; it is getting late and I must be moving
+on."
+
+Kitty squared herself, her hands on her hips--a
+favorite gesture when her mind was fully made up--
+looked straight at the speaker as if to reply, then suddenly
+catching sight of a strapping-looking fellow in blue
+overalls, a trunk on one shoulder, a carpetbag in his
+hand, called out: "John, dear, come here! I want ye.
+Here, Mike! You and Bobby get that steamer baggage
+out on the sidewalk, and don't be slack about it, for it
+goes to Hoboken, and there may be a block in the river
+and the ferry-boats behind time. Wait, I'll lend ye a
+hand."
+
+"You'll lend nothing, Kitty Cleary! Get out of my
+way," came her husband's hearty answer. "Ye hurt
+yer back last week. There's men enough round here to
+--stop it, I tell ye!" and he loosened her fingers from
+the lifting-strap.
+
+"I can hist the two of ye, John! Go along wid ye!"
+
+"No, Kitty, darlin'--let go of it," and with a twist
+of his hand and lurch of his shoulder John shot the
+trunk over the edge of the wagon, tossed the bag after
+it, and joined the group, the stranger absorbed in
+watching the husband and wife.
+
+"And now the trunk's in, what's it you want,
+Kitty?" asked John squeezing her plump arm, as if
+in compensation for having had his way.
+
+"John, dear, here's a gentleman who--what's your
+name?--ye haven't told me, or if ye did I've forgot it."
+
+"Felix O'Day."
+
+"Then you're Irish?"
+
+"I am afraid I am--at least, my ancestors were."
+
+"Afraid! Ye ought to be glad. I'm Irish, and so is
+my John here, and Bobby, and Father Cruse, and Tom
+McGinniss, the policeman, and the captain up at the
+station-house--we're all Irish, except Otto, who is as
+Dutch as sauerkraut! But where was I? Oh, yes!
+Now, John, dear, this gentleman is on his uppers, he
+says, and wants to hire our room and eat what we can
+give him."
+
+The expressman, who stood six feet in his stockings,
+looked first at his wife, then at Kling, and then at
+the applicant, and broke out into a loud guffaw.
+"It's a joke, Kitty. Don't let 'em fool ye. Go on,
+Otto; try it somewhere else! It's my busy day.
+Here, Mike!"
+
+"You drop Mike and listen, John! It's no joke--
+not for Mr. O'Day. You take him up-stairs and show
+him what we got, and down into the kitchen and the
+sitting-room and out into the yard. Come, now;
+hurry! Go 'long with him, Mr. O'Day, and come back
+to me when ye are through and tell me what you think
+of it all. And, John, take Toodles with you and lock
+him up. First thing I know I'll be tramplin' on him.
+Get out, you varmint!"
+
+John grabbed the wad of matted hair midway between
+his floppy tail and perpetually moist nose, controlled
+his own features into a semblance of seriousness,
+and turned to O'Day. "This way, sir--I thought it was
+one of Otto's jokes. The room is only about as big
+as half a box car, but it's got runnin' water in the hall,
+and Kitty keeps it mighty clean. As to the grub, it
+ain't what you are accustomed to, maybe, but it's
+what we have ourselves, and neither of us is starvin',
+as ye can see," and he thumped his chest. "No,
+not the big door, sir; the little one. And there's a
+key, too, for ye, when ye're out late--and ye will be
+out late, or I miss my guess," and out rolled another
+laugh.
+
+Kitty looked after the two until they disappeared
+through the smaller door, then turned and faced
+Kling. "I know just what's happened, Otto--a baby
+a month old could see it all. That man is up against
+it for the first time. He'd rather die than beg, and he'll
+keep on sellin' his traps until there's nothin' left but
+the clothes he stands in. He may be a duke, for all ye
+know, or maybe only a plain Irish gentleman come to
+grief. Them bottles ye showed me last night had arms
+engraved on 'em, and his initials. I noticed partic'lar,
+for I've seen them things before. My father, when
+he was young, was second groom for a lord and used to
+tell me about the silver in the house and the arms on the
+sides of the carriages. What he's left home for the
+dear God only knows; but it will come out, and when
+it does it won't be what anybody thinks. And he's got
+a fine way wid him, and a clear look out of his eye, and
+I'll bet ye he's tellin' the truth and all of it. Here they
+come now, and I'm glad they've got rid of that rag baby
+of Bobby's." She turned to her husband. "And, John,
+dear, don't forget that sewing-machine--oh, yes, I see,
+you've got it in the wagon--go on wid ye, then!--
+Well, Mr. O'Day, how is it? Purty small and cramped,
+ain't it? And there's a chair missin' that I took downstairs,
+which I'll put back. And there's a cotton cover
+belongs to the table. Won't suit, will it?" and a shade
+of disappointment crossed her face.
+
+"The room will answer very well, Mrs. Cleary.
+I can see the work of your deft hands in every corner.
+I have been living in one much larger, but this is more
+like a home. And do I get my breakfast and dinner
+and the room for the pound--I mean for the five
+dollars?"
+
+"You do, and welcome, and somethin' in the middle
+of the day if ye happen to be around and hungry."
+
+"And can I move in to-day?"
+
+"Ye can."
+
+"Then I will go down and pay what I owe and see
+about getting my boxes. And now, here is your
+money," and he held out two five-dollar bills.
+
+Kitty stretched her two hands far behind her back,
+her brown holland over-apron curving inward with
+the movement. "I won't touch it; ye can have the
+room and ye can keep your money. When I want it
+I'll ask fer it. Now tell me where I can get your
+trunks. Mike will go fer 'em and bring 'em back."
+
+A new, strange look shone out from the keen, searching
+eyes of O'Day. His interest in the woman had
+deepened. "And you have no misgivings and are sure
+you will get your rent?"
+
+"Just as sure as I am that me name is Kitty Cleary,
+and that is not altogether because you're an Irishman
+but because ye are a gentleman."
+
+This time O'Day made her a little bow, the lines
+of his face softening, his eyes sparkling with sudden
+humor at her speech. He stepped forward, called
+to the man who was still handling the luggage, and,
+in the tone of one ordering his groom, said: "Here,
+Mike!--Did you say his name was Mike?--Go, if you
+please, to this address, just below Union Square-I
+will write it on a card--any time to-day after six
+o'clock. I will meet you there and show you the trunks
+--there are two of them." Then he turned to Otto,
+still standing by, a silent and absorbed spectator.
+
+"I have also to thank you, Mr. Kling. It was very
+kind of you, and I am sure I shall be very happy here.
+After I am settled I shall come over and see whether I
+can be of some service to you in going through your
+stock. There may be some other things that are
+valuable which you have mislaid. And then, again,
+I should like to see something more of your little
+daughter--she is very lovable, and so is her dog."
+
+"Vell, vy don't you come now? Masie don't go to
+school to-day, and I keep her in de shop. I been tinkin'
+since you and Kitty been talkin'--Kitty don't make no
+mistakes: vot Kitty says goes. Look here, Kitty,
+vun minute--come close vunce--I vant to speak to
+you."
+
+O'Day, who had been about to give a reason why he
+could not "come now," and who had halted in his reply
+in order to hunt his pockets for a card on which to write
+his address, hearing Kling's last words, withdrew to
+the office in search of both paper and pencil.
+
+"Now, see here, Kitty! Dot mans is a vunderful
+man--de most VUNDERFUL man I have seen since I been
+in 445. You know dem cups and saucers vat I bought
+off dot olt vomans who came up from Baltimore? Do
+you know dot two of 'em is vorth more as ten dollars?
+He find dot out joost as soon as he pick 'em up, and he
+find out about my chairs, and vich vas fakes and vich
+vas goot. Vot you tink of my givin' him a job takin'
+my old cups and my soup tureens and stuff and go sell
+'em someveres? I don't got nobody since dot tam fool
+of a Svede go avay. Vat you tink?"
+
+"He can have my room--that's what I think! You
+heard what I said to him! That's all the answer you'll
+get out of me, Otto Kling."
+
+"An' you don't tink dot he'd git avay vid de stuff
+und ve haf to hunt up or down Second Avenue in the
+pawn-shops to git 'em back?"
+
+"No, I don't!"
+
+"Den, by golly, I take him on, und I gif him every
+veek vat he pay you in board."
+
+Kitty broke into one of her derisive laughs. "YOU
+WILL! Ain't that good of ye? Ye'll give him enough to
+starve on, that's what it is. Ye ought to be ashamed
+of yourself, Otto Kling!"
+
+"Vell, but I don't know vat he is vurth yet."
+
+"Well, then, tell him so, but don't cheat him out of
+everything but his bare board; and that's what ye'd be
+doin'. Ye know he's pawnin' his stuff; ye know ye got
+five times the worth of your money in the dressing-case
+he give up to ye! See here, Otto! Before ye offer him
+that five dollars a week ye better get on the other side of
+big John there, where ye'll be safe, and holler it at him
+over them trunks, or ye'll find yourself flat on your
+back."
+
+"All right, Kitty, all right! Don't git oxcited.
+I didn't mean nudding. I do just vat you say. I gif
+him more. Oh! Here you are! Mr. O'Day, vud you
+let me speak to you vun minute? Suppose dot I ask
+you to come into my shop as a clerk, like, and pay you
+vat I can--of course, you are new und it vill take some
+time, but I can pay sometings--vud you come?"
+
+O'Day gave an involuntary start and from under
+his heavy brows there shot a keen, questioning glance.
+"What would you want me to do?" he asked evenly.
+
+"Vell--vait on de customers, and look over de stock,
+and buy tings ven dey come in."
+
+"You certainly cannot be serious, Mr. Kling. You
+know nothing about me. I am an entire stranger and
+must continue to be. With the exception of my landlady,
+who, if she knows my name, forgets it every time
+she comes up for her rent, there is not a human being in
+New York to whom I could apply for a reference. Are
+you accustomed to pick up strangers out of the street
+and take them into your shops--and your homes?"
+he added, smiling at Kitty, who had been following the
+conversation closely.
+
+"But you is a different kind of a mans."
+
+No answer came. The man was lost in thought.
+
+"Ye'd better think it over, sir," said Kitty, laying
+a strong, persuasive hand on his wrist. "It's near by,
+and ye can have your meals early or late as ye plaze,
+and the work ain't hard. My Mike does the liftin' and
+two big fat Dutchies helps."
+
+"But I know nothing about the business, Mrs.
+Cleary--nothing about any business, for that matter.
+I should only be a disappointment to Mr. Kling. I
+would rather keep his friendship and look elsewhere."
+
+Kitty relaxed her hold of his wrist. "Then ye have
+been lookin' for work?" she asked. The inquiry
+sprang hot from her heart.
+
+"I have not, so far, but I shall have to very soon."
+
+She threw back her head and faced the two men.
+"Ye'll look no further, Mr. O'Day. You go over to
+Otto's and go to work; and it will be to-night after you
+gets your things stowed away. And ye'll pay him ten
+dollars a week, Otto, for the first month, and more the
+second if he earns it, which he will. Now are ye all
+satisfied, or shall I say it over?"
+
+"One moment, please, Mrs. Cleary. If I may interrupt,"
+he laughed, his reserve broken through at
+last by the friendly interest shown by the strangers
+about him, "and what will be the hours of my service?"
+Then, turning to Otto: "Perhaps you, Mr. Kling, can
+best tell me."
+
+"Vot you mean?"
+
+"How early must I come in the morning, and until
+how late must I stay at night?"
+
+The dealer hesitated, then answered slowly, "In
+de morning at eight o'clock, and"--but, seeing a cloud
+cross O'Day's face, added: "Or maybe haf past eight
+vill do."
+
+"And at night?"
+
+"Vell--you can't tell. Sometimes it is more late as
+udder times--about nine o'clock ven I have packing to
+do."
+
+O'Day shook his head.
+
+"Vell, den, say eight o'clock."
+
+Again O'Day shook his head slowly and thoughtfully
+as if some insurmountable obstacle had suddenly
+arisen before him. Then he said firmly: "I am afraid
+I must decline your kind offer, Mr. Kling. The latest
+I could stay on any evening is seven o'clock--some
+days I might have to leave at six--certainly no later
+than half past. I suppose you have dinner at seven,
+Mrs. Cleary?"
+
+Kitty nodded. She was too interested in this new
+phase of the situation to speak.
+
+"Yes, seven would have to be the hour, Mr. Kling"
+said O'Day.
+
+"Vell, make it seven o'clock, den."
+
+"And if," he continued in a still more serious voice,
+"I should on certain days--absent myself entirely,
+would that matter?"
+
+Otto was being slowly driven into a corner, but he
+determined not to flinch with Kitty standing by. "No,
+I tink I git along vid my little Beesvings."
+
+O'Day studied the pavement for an instant, then
+looked into space as if seeking to clear his mind of every
+conflicting thought, and said at last, slowly and deliberately:
+"Very well. Then I will be with you in the
+morning at nine o'clock. Now, good day, Mrs. Cleary.
+I know we will get on very well together, and you,
+too, Mr. Kling. Thank you for your confidence."
+Then, turning to the Irishman: "Don't forget, Mike,
+that the street-door is open and that I'm up two flights.
+You will find the number on this card."
+
+
+
+
+Chapter IV
+
+
+
+The customary scene took place when Felix, late
+that afternoon, handed his landlady the overdue rent.
+Now that the two crisp bills which O'Day owed her
+lay in her hand, she was ready to pass them back to
+him if the full payment at all embarrassed him. Indeed,
+she had never had a more quiet and decent
+lodger, and she hoped it didn't mean he was "goin'
+away," and, if she was rather sharp with him the night
+before, it was because she had been "that nervous of
+late."
+
+But Felix, ignoring her overtures, only shook his head
+in a good-natured way. He would begin packing at
+once, and the express wagon would be here at six.
+She would know it by the white horse which the man
+was driving. When his trunks were finished he would
+put them outside his bedroom door, and please not
+to forget his mackintosh and leather hat-case which
+he would leave inside the room.
+
+So the packing began. First the sole-leather trunk,
+from which he had taken the hapless dressing-case
+the night before, was pulled out and the heavy black
+tin box hauled into position and unlocked. With the
+raising of the scarred and dented top a mass of letters
+and papers came into view, filling the box to the brim--
+some tied with red tape, others in big envelopes. In
+a corner lay some photographs--one in a gilt frame,
+the edge showing clear of the tissue-paper in which
+it was wrapped. This he took out and studied
+long and earnestly, his lips tightly pressed together.
+Retying the paper, he tucked them all back into place,
+turned the key, shook the box to see that the lock held
+tight, picked it up with one hand by its side handle,
+and, throwing open the door, deposited it on the landing
+outside. Its leather companion was then placed
+beside it, the hat-case crowning the whole.
+
+Mike's voice was now heard in the narrow front hall.
+"How fur is it up, mum? Oh, another flight! Begorra,
+it's as dark as a coal-hole and about as dirty!"
+This was followed by: "Oh, is that you, sor? How
+many pieces have you?"
+
+"Only two, Mike; and the mackintosh and hat-
+case," answered Felix, who had watched him stumbling
+up the stairs until his red face was level with
+the landing. "By the way, mind you don't lose the
+rubber coat, for, although I never wear an overcoat,
+this comes in well when it rains."
+
+"I'll never take me eyes off it. I bet ye niver bought
+that down on the Bowery from a Johnny-hand-me-down!"
+
+"And, Mike!"
+
+"Yes, sor?"
+
+"Will you please say to Mrs. Cleary that I may not
+be in to-night before eleven o'clock?"
+
+"Eleven! Why that's the shank o' the evenin' for
+her, sor. If it was twelve, or after, she'd be up." Then
+he bent forward and whispered: "I should think ye
+would be glad, sor, to get out of this rookery."
+
+Felix nodded in assent, waited until the leather trunk
+had been dumped into the wagon, watched Mike remount
+the stairs until he had reached his landing,
+helped him to load up the balance of his luggage--the
+tin box on one shoulder, the coat over the other, the
+hat-case in the free hand--and then walked back to
+his empty room. Here he made a thoughtful survey
+of the dismal place in which he had spent so many
+months, picked up his blackthorn stick, and, leaving
+the door ajar, walked slowly down-stairs, his hand on
+the rail as a guide in the dark.
+
+"And you aren't comin' back, sir?" remarked the
+landlady, who had listened for his steps.
+
+"That, madame, one never can tell."
+
+"Well, you are always welcome."
+
+"Thank you--good-by."
+
+"Good-by, sir; my husband's out or he would like
+to shake your hand."
+
+O'Day bowed slightly and stepped into the street, his
+stick under his arm, his hands hooked behind his back.
+That he had no immediate purpose in view was evident
+from the way he loitered along, stopping to look at
+the store windows or to scrutinize the passing crowd,
+each person intent on his or her special business. By
+the time he had reached Broadway the upper floors
+of the business buildings were dark, but the windows
+of the restaurants, cigar shops, and saloons had begun
+to blaze out and a throng of pleasure seekers to replace
+that of the shoppers and workers. This aspect of
+New York appealed to him most. There were fewer
+people moving about the streets and in less of a hurry,
+and he could study them the closer.
+
+In a cheap restaurant off Union Square he ate a spare
+and inexpensive meal, whiled away an hour over the
+free afternoon papers, went out to watch an audience
+thronging into one of the smaller theatres, and then
+boarded a down-town car. When he reached Trinity
+Church the clock was striking, and, as he often did
+when here at this hour, he entered the open gate and,
+making his way among the shadows sat down, on a
+flat tomb. The gradual transition from the glare and
+rush of the up-town streets to the sombre stillness of
+this ancient graveyard always seemed to him like the
+shifting of films upon a screen, a replacement of the
+city of the living by the city of the dead. High up
+in the gloom soared the spire of the old church, its
+cross lost in shadows. Still higher, their roofs melting
+into the dusky blue vault, rose the great office-
+buildings, crowding close as if ready to pounce upon
+the small space protected only by the sacred ashes of
+the dead.
+
+For some time he sat motionless, listening to the
+muffled peals of the organ. Then the humiliating
+events of the last twenty-four hours began crowding in
+upon his memory: the insolent demands of his landlady;
+the guarded questions of Kling when he inspected
+the dressing-case; the look of doubt on both their
+faces and the changes wrought in their manner and
+speech when they found he was able to pay his way.
+Suddenly something which up to that moment he had
+held at bay gripped him.
+
+"It was money, then, which counted," he said to
+himself, forgetting for the moment Kitty's refusal to
+take it. And if money were so necessary, how long
+could he earn it? Kling would soon discover how useless
+he was, and then the tin box, emptied of its contents
+and the last keepsake pawned or sold, the end
+would come.
+
+None of these anxieties had ever assailed him before.
+He had been like a man walking in a dream, his gaze
+fixed on but one exit, regardless of the dangers besetting
+his steps. Now the truth confronted him. He
+had reached the limit of his resources. To hope for
+much from Kling was idle. Such a situation could
+not last, nor could he count for long either on the
+friendship or the sympathy of the big-hearted expressman's
+wife. She had been absolutely sincere, and so
+had her husband, but that made it all the more incumbent
+upon him to preserve his own independence
+while still pursuing the one object of his life with undiminished
+effort.
+
+A flood of light from the suddenly opened church-door,
+followed by a burst of pent-up melody, recalled
+him to himself. He waited until all was dark again,
+rose to his feet, passed through the gate and, with a
+brace of his shoulders and quickened step, walked on
+into Wall Street.
+
+As he made his way along the deserted thoroughfare,
+where but a few hours since the very air had been
+charged with a nervous energy whose slightest vibration
+was felt the world over, the sombre stillness of the ancient
+graveyard seemed to have followed him. Save
+for a private watchman slowly tramping his round and
+an isolated foot-passenger hurrying to the ferry, no
+soul but himself was stirring or awake except, perhaps,
+behind some electric light in a lofty building where
+a janitor was retiring or, lower down, some belated
+bookkeeper in search of an error.
+
+Leaving the grim row of tall columns guarding the
+front of the old custom-house, he turned his steps
+in the direction of the docks, wheeled sharply to the
+left, and continued up South Street until he stopped
+in front of a ship-chandler's store.
+
+Some one was at work inside, for the rays of a lantern
+shed their light over piles of old cordage and heaps of
+rusty chains flanking the low entrance.
+
+Picking his way around some barrels of oil, he edged
+along a line of boxes filled with ship's stuff until he
+reached an inside office, where, beside a kerosene lamp
+placed on a small desk littered with papers, sat a man
+in shirt-sleeves. At the sound of O'Day's step the
+occupant lifted his head and peered out. The visitor
+passed through the doorway.
+
+"Good evening, Carlin; I hoped you would still be
+up. I stopped on the way down or I should have been
+here earlier."
+
+A man of sixty, with a ruddy, weather-beaten face
+set in a half-moon of gray whiskers, the ends tied under
+his chin, sprang to his feet. "Ah! Is that you, Mr.
+Felix? I been a-wonderin' where you been a-keepin'
+yourself. Take this chair; it's more comfortable. I
+was thinkin' somehow you might come in to-night, and
+so I took a shy at my bills to have somethin' to do.
+I suppose"--he stopped, and in a whisper added: "I
+suppose you haven't heard anything, have you?"
+
+"No; have you?"
+
+"Not a word," answered the ship-chandler gravely.
+
+"I thought perhaps you might have had a letter,"
+urged Felix.
+
+"Not a line of any kind," came the answer, followed
+by a sidewise movement of the gray head, as if its
+owner had long since abandoned hope from that
+quarter.
+
+"Do you think anything is the matter?"
+
+"Nothin', or I should 'a' 'eard. My notion is that
+Martha kep' on to Toronto with that sick man she
+nursed on the steamer. Maybe she's got work stiddy
+and isn't a-goin' to come back."
+
+"But she would have let you KNOW?" There was
+a ring of anxiety now, tinged with a certain impatience.
+
+"Perhaps she would, Mr. Felix, and perhaps she
+wouldn't. Since our mother died Martha gets rather
+cocky sometimes. Likes to be her own boss and earn
+her own living. I've often 'eard her say it before I left
+'ome, and she HAS earned it, I must say--and she's got
+to, same as all of us. I suppose you been keepin' it
+up same as usual--trampin' and lookin'?"
+
+"Yes." This came as the mere stating of a fact.
+
+"And I suppose there ain't nothin' new--no clew--
+nothin' you can work on?" The speaker felt assured
+there was not, but it might be an encouragement to
+suggest its possibility.
+
+"No, not the slightest clew."
+
+"Better give it up, Mr. Felix, you're only wastin'
+your time. Be worse maybe when you do come up
+agin it." The ship-chandler was in earnest; every
+intonation proved it.
+
+O'Day arose from his seat and looked down at his
+companion. "That is not my way, Carlin, nor is it
+yours; and I have known you since I was a boy."
+
+"And you are goin' to keep it up, Mr. Felix?"
+
+"Yes, until I know the end or reach my own."
+
+"Well, then, God's help go with ye!"
+
+Into the shadows again--past long rows of silent
+warehouses, with here and there a flickering gas-lamp--
+until he reached Dover Street. He had still some work
+to do up-town, and Dover Street would furnish a short
+cut along the abutment of the great bridge, and so on
+to the Elevated at Franklin Square.
+
+He was evidently familiar with its narrow, uneven
+sidewalk, for he swung without hesitation into the
+gloom and, with hands hooked behind his back, his
+stick held, as was his custom, close to his armpit, made
+his way past its shambling hovels and warehouses.
+Now and then he would pause, following with his eyes
+the curve of the great steel highway, carried on the
+stone shoulders of successive arches, the sweep of its
+lines marked by a procession of lights, its outstretched,
+interlocked palms gripped close. The memory of certain
+streets in London came to him--those near its
+own great bridges, especially the city dump at Black-
+friars and the begrimed buildings hugging the stone
+knees of London Bridge, choking up the snakelike
+alleys and byways leading to the Embankment.
+
+Crossing under the Elevated, he continued along the
+side of the giant piers and wheeled into a dirt-choked,
+ill-smelling street, its distant outlet a blaze of electric
+lights. It was now the dead hour of the twenty-four--
+the hour before the despatch of the millions of journals,
+damp from the presses. He was the only human being
+in sight.
+
+Suddenly, when within a hundred feet of the end of
+the street, a figure detached itself from a deserted
+doorway. Felix caught his stick from under his armpit
+as the man held out a hand.
+
+"Say, I want you to give me the price of a meal."
+
+Felix tightened his hold on the stick. The words
+had conveyed a threat.
+
+"This is no place for you to beg. Step out where
+people can see you."
+
+"I'm hungry, mister." He had now taken in the
+width of O'Day's shoulders and the length of his forearm.
+He had also seen the stick.
+
+Felix stepped back one pace and slipped his hand
+down the blackthorn. "Move on, I tell you, where I
+can look you over--quick!--I mean it."
+
+"I ain't much to look at." The threat was out of
+his voice now. "I ain't eaten nothin' since yisterday,
+mister, and I got that out of a ash-barrel. I'm up agin
+it hard. Can't you see I ain't lyin'? You ain't never
+starved or you'd know. You ain't--" He wavered,
+his eyes glittering, edged a step nearer, and with a
+quick lunge made a grab for O'Day's watch.
+
+Felix sidestepped with the agility of a cat, struck
+straight out from the shoulder, and, with a twist of his
+fingers in the tramp's neck-cloth, slammed him flat
+against the wall, where he crouched, gasping for breath.
+"Oh, that's it, is it?" he said calmly, loosening his
+hold.
+
+The man raised both hands in supplication. "Don't
+kill me! Listen to me--I ain't no thief--I'm desperate.
+When you didn't give me nothin' and I got on to the
+watch--I got crazy. I'm glad I didn't git it. I been
+a-walkin' the streets for two weeks lookin' for work.
+Last night I slep' in a coal-bunker down by the docks,
+under the bridge, and I was goin' there agin when you
+come along. I never tried to rob nobody before. Don't
+run me in--let me go this time. Look into my face;
+you can see for yourself I'm hungry! I'll never do it
+agin. Try me, won't you?" His tears were choking
+him, the elbow of his ragged sleeve pressed to his eyes.
+
+Felix had listened without moving, trying to make
+up his mind, noting the drawn, haggard face, the
+staring eyes and dry, fevered lips--all evidences of
+either hunger or vice, he was uncertain which.
+
+Then gradually, as the man's sobs continued, there
+stole over him that strange sense of kinship in pain
+which comes to us at times when confronted with
+another's agony. The differences between them--the
+rags of the one and the well-brushed garments of the
+other, the fact that one skulked with his misery in dark
+alleys while the other bore his on the open highways--
+counted as nothing. He and this outcast were bound
+together by the common need of those who find the
+struggle overwhelming. Until that moment his own
+sufferings had absorbed him. Now the throb of the
+world's pain came to him and sympathies long dormant
+began to stir.
+
+"Straighten up and let me see your face," he said
+at last, intent on the tramp's abject misery. "Out
+here where the full light can fall on it--that's right!
+Now tell me about yourself. How long have you been
+like this?"
+
+The man dragged himself to his feet.
+
+"Ever since I lost my job." The question had
+calmed him. There was a note of hope in it.
+
+"What work did you do?"
+
+"I'm a plumber's helper."
+
+"Work stopped?"
+
+"No, a strike--I wouldn't quit, and they fired me."
+
+"What happened then?"
+
+"She went away."
+
+"Who went away?"
+
+"My wife."
+
+"When?"
+
+"About a month back."
+
+"Did you beat her?"
+
+"No, there was another man."
+
+"Younger than you?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"How old was she?"
+
+"Eighteen."
+
+"A girl, then."
+
+"Yes, if you put it that way. She was all I had."
+
+"Have you seen her since?"
+
+"No, and I don't want to."
+
+These questions and answers had followed in rapid
+succession, Felix searching for the truth and the man
+trying to give it as best he could.
+
+With the last answer the man drew a step nearer
+and, in a voice which was fast getting beyond his control,
+said: "You know now, don't you? You can see
+it plain as day how long it takes to make a bum of a
+man when he's up agin things like that. You--" He
+paused, listened intently, and sprang back, hugging the
+wall. "What's that? Somebody comin'! My God!
+It's a cop! Don't tell him--say you won't tell him--
+say it! SAY IT!"
+
+Felix gripped his wrist. "Pull yourself together and
+keep still."
+
+The officer, who was idly swinging a club as if for
+companionship along his lonely beat, stopped short.
+"Any trouble, sir?" he said as soon as he had Felix's
+outline and bearing clear.
+
+"No, thank you, officer. Only a friend of mine
+who needs a little looking after. I'll take care of
+him."
+
+"All right, sir," and he passed on down the narrow
+street.
+
+The man gave a long breath and staggered against
+the wall. Felix caught him by his trembling shoulders.
+"Now, brace up. The first thing you need is something
+to eat. There is a restaurant at the corner. Come with
+me."
+
+"They won't let me in."
+
+"I'll take care of that."
+
+Felix entered first. "What is there hot this time of
+night, barkeeper?"
+
+"Frankfurters and beans, boss."
+
+"Any coffee?"
+
+"Sure."
+
+"Send a double portion of each to this table," and
+he pulled out a chair. "Here's a man who has missed
+his dinner. Is that enough?" and he laid down a dollar
+bill--one Kling had given him.
+
+"Forty cents change, boss."
+
+"Keep it, and see he gets all he wants. And now
+here," he said to the tramp, "is another dollar to keep
+you going," and with a shift of his stick to his left arm
+Felix turned on his heel, swung back the door, and was
+lost in the throng.
+
+
+Kitty was up and waiting for him when he lifted
+the hinged wooden flap which provided an entrance
+for the privileged and, guided by the glow of the kerosene
+lamp, turned the knob of her kitchen door. She
+was close to the light, reading, the coffee-pot singing
+away on the stove, the aroma of its contents filling
+the room.
+
+"I hope I have not kept you up, Mrs. Cleary. You
+had my message by Mike, did you not?" he asked
+in an apologetic tone.
+
+"Yes, I got the message, and I got the trunks; they're
+up-stairs, and if you had given Mike the keys I'd have
+'em unpacked by this time and all ready for you. As to
+my bein' up--I'm always up, and I got to be. John
+and Mike is over to Weehawken, and Bobby's been to
+the circus and just gone to bed, and I've been readin'
+the mornin' paper--about the only time I get to read
+it. Will ye sit down and wait till John comes in? Hold
+on 'til I get ye a cup of hot coffee and--"
+
+"No, Mrs. Cleary. I will go to bed, if you do not
+mind."
+
+"Oh, but the coffee will put new life into ye, and--"
+
+"Thanks, but it would be more likely to put it OUT
+of me if it kept me awake. Can I reach my room this
+way or must I go outside?"
+
+"Ye can go through this door--wait, I'll go wid ye
+and show ye about the light and where ye'll find the
+water. It's dark on the stairs and ye may stumble.
+I'll go on ahead and turn up the gas in the hall," she
+called back, as she mounted the steps and threw wide
+his room door. "Not much of a place, is it? But ye
+can get plenty of fresh air, and the bed's not bad.
+Ye can see for yourself," and her stout fist sunk into its
+middle. "And there's your trunks and tin chest, and
+the hat-box is beside the wash-stand, and the waterproof
+coat's in the closet. We have breakfast at seven
+o'clock, and ye'll eat down-stairs wid me and John.
+And now good night to ye."
+
+Felix thanked her for her attention in his simple,
+straightforward way, and, closing the door upon her,
+dropped into a chair.
+
+The night's experience had been like a sudden awakening.
+His anxiety over his dwindling finances and his
+disappointment over Carlin's news had been put to
+flight by the suffering of the man who had tried to
+rob him. There were depths, then, to which human
+suffering might drive a man, depths he himself had
+never imagined or reached--horrible, deadly depths,
+without light or hope, benumbing the best in a man,
+destroying his purposes by slow, insidious stages.
+
+He arose from his chair and began walking up and
+down the small room, stopping now and then to inspect
+a bureau drawer or to readjust one of the curtains
+shading the panes of glass. In the same absent-minded
+way he drew out one of the trunks, unlocked it, paused
+now and then with some garment in his hand only
+to awake again to consciousness and resume his task,
+pushing the trunk back at last under the bed and continuing
+his walk about the narrow room, always
+haunted by the tramp's haggard, hopeless look.
+
+Again he felt the mysterious sense of kinship in
+pain that wipes away all distinctions. With it, too,
+there came suddenly another sense--that of an overwhelming
+compassion out of which new purposes are
+born to human souls.
+
+The encounter, then, had been both a blessing and
+a warning. He would now stand guard against the
+onslaught of his own sorrows while keeping up the
+fight, and this with renewed vigor. He would earn
+money, too, since this was so necessary, laboring with
+his hands, if need be; and he would do it all with a
+wide-open heart.
+
+
+
+
+Chapter V
+
+
+
+If O'Day's presence was a welcome addition to
+Kitty's household, it was nothing compared to the
+effect produced at Kling's. Long before the month
+was out he had not only earned his entire wages five
+times over by the changes he had wrought in the
+arrangement and classification of the stock, but he
+had won the entire confidence of his employer. Otto
+had surrendered when an old customer who had been
+in the habit of picking up rare bits of china, Japanese
+curios, and carvings at his own value had been confronted
+with the necessity of either paying Felix's
+price or going away without it, O'Day having promptly
+quadrupled the price on a piece of old Dresden, not
+only because the purchaser was compelled to have it to
+complete his set but because the interview had shown
+that the buyer was well aware he had obtained the
+former specimens at one-fourth of their value.
+
+And the same discernment was shown when he was
+purchasing old furniture, brass, and so-called Sheffield
+plate to increase Otto's stock. If the articles offered
+could still boast of either handle, leg, or back of their
+original state and the price was fair, they were almost
+always bought, but the line was drawn at the fraudulent
+and "plugged-up" sideboards and chairs with
+their legs shot full of genuine worm-holes; ancient
+Oriental stuffs of the time of the early Persians (one
+year out of a German loom), rare old English plate,
+or undoubted George III silver, decorated with coats
+of arms or initials and showing those precious little
+dents only produced by long service--the whole fresh
+from a Connecticut factory. These never got past
+his scrutiny. While it was true, as he had told Kling,
+that he knew very little in the way of trade and commerce
+--nothing which would be of use to any one--
+he was a never-failing expert when it came to what
+is generally known as "antiques" and "bric-a-brac."
+
+Masie--Kling's only child--a slender, graceful little
+creature with a wealth of gold-yellow hair flying
+about her pretty shoulders and a pair of blue eyes in
+which were mirrored the skies of ten joyous springs,
+had given her heart to him at once. She had never forgotten
+his gentle treatment of her dog Fudge, whose
+attack that first morning Felix had understood so well,
+lifting and putting the refractory animal back in her
+arms instead of driving him off with a kick. Fudge,
+whose manners were improving, had not forgotten
+either and was always under O'Day's feet except when
+being fondled by the child.
+
+Until Felix came she had had no other companions,
+some innate reserve keeping her from romping with the
+children on the street, her sole diversion, except when
+playing at home among her father's possessions or
+making a visit to Kitty, being found in the books of
+fairy-tales which the old hunchback, Tim Kelsey, had
+lent her. At first this natural shyness had held her
+aloof even from O'Day, content only to watch his face
+as he answered her childish appeals. But before the
+first week had passed she had slipped her hand into
+his, and before the month was over her arms were
+around his neck, her fresh, soft cheek against his own,
+cuddling close as she poured out her heart in a continuous
+flow of prattle and laughter, her father looking
+on in blank amazement.
+
+For, while Kling loved her as most fathers love their
+motherless daughters, Felix had seen at a glance that
+he was either too engrossed in his business or too dense
+and unimaginative to understand so winning a child.
+She was Masie, "dot little girl of mine dot don't got
+no mudder," or "Beesvings, who don't never be still,"
+but that was about as far as his notice of her went, except
+sending her to school, seeing that she was fed and
+clothed, and on such state occasions as Christmas, New
+Year's, or birthdays, giving her meaningless little presents,
+which, in most instances, were shut up in her
+bureau drawers, never to be looked at again.
+
+Kitty, who remembered the child's mother as a girl
+with a far-away look in her eyes and a voice of surprising
+sweetness, always maintained that it was a
+shame for Kling, who was many years her senior, to
+have married the girl at all.
+
+"Not, John, dear, that Otto isn't a decent man, as
+far as he goes," she had once said to him, when the
+day's work was over and they were discussing their
+neighbors, "and that honest, too, that he wouldn't get
+away with a sample trunk weighing a ton if it was
+nailed fast to the sidewalk, and a good friend of ours
+who wouldn't go back on us, and never did. But that
+wife of his, John! If she wasn't as fine as the best of
+em, then I miss my guess. She got it from that father
+of hers--the clock-maker that never went out in the
+daytime, and hid himself in his back shop. There was
+something I never understood about the two of 'em
+and his killing himself when he did. Why, look at that
+little Masie! Can't ye see she is no more Kling's
+daughter than she is mine? Ye can't hatch out hummin'-birds
+by sittin' on ducks' eggs, and that's what's
+the matter over at Otto's."
+
+"Well, whose eggs were they?" John had inquired,
+half asleep by the stove, his tired legs outstretched,
+the evening paper dropping from his hand.
+
+"Oh, I don't say that they are not Kling's right
+enough, John. Masie is his child, I know. But what
+I say is that the mother is stamped all over the darling,
+and that Otto can't put a finger on any part and call
+it his own."
+
+Whether Kitty were right or wrong regarding the
+mystery is no part of our story, but certain it was that
+the soul of the unhappy young mother looked through
+the daughter's eyes, that the sweetness of the child's
+voice was hers, and the grace of every movement a
+direct inheritance from one whose frail spirit had taken
+so early a flight.
+
+To Felix this companionship, with the glimpses it
+gave him of a child's heart, refreshed his own as a summer
+rain does a thirsty plant. Had she been his daughter,
+or his little sister, or his niece, or grandchild, a certain
+sense of responsibility on his part and of filial duty
+on hers would have clouded their perfect union. He
+would have had matters of education to insist upon--
+perhaps of clothing and hygiene. She would have
+had her secrets--hidden paths on which she wandered
+alone--things she could never tell to one in authority.
+As it was, bound together as they were by only a mutual
+recognition, their joy in each other knew no bounds.
+To Masie he was a refuge, some one who understood
+every thought before she had uttered it; to O'Day she
+was a never-ending and warming delight.
+
+And so this man of forty-five folded his arms about
+this child of ten, and held her close, the opening chalice
+of her budding girlhood widening hourly at his touch--
+a sight to be reverenced by every man and never to be
+forgotten by one privileged to behold it.
+
+And with the intimacy which almost against his will
+held him to the little shop, there stole into his life a
+certain content. Springs long dried in his own nature
+bubbled again. He felt the sudden, refreshing sense of
+those who, after pent-up suffering, find the quickening
+of new life within.
+
+Mike noticed the change in the cheery greetings and
+in the passages of Irish wit with which the new clerk
+welcomed him whenever be appeared in the store, and
+so did Kling, and even the two Dutchies when Felix
+would drop into the cellar searching for what was still
+good enough to be made over new. And so did Kitty
+and John and all at their home.
+
+Masie alone noticed nothing. To her, "Uncle Felix,"
+as she now called him, was always the same adorable
+and comprehending companion, forever opening up to
+her new vistas of interest, never too busy to answer
+her questions, never too preoccupied to explain the
+different objects he was handling. If she were ever in
+the way, she was never made to feel it. Instead, so
+gentle and considerate was he, that she grew to believe
+herself his most valuable assistant, daily helping him
+to arrange the various new acquisitions.
+
+One morning in June when they were busy over a
+lot of small curios, arranging bits of jade, odd silver
+watches, seals, and pinchbeck rings, in a glass case that
+had been cleaned and revarnished, the door opened and
+an old fellow strolled in--an odd-looking old fellow, with
+snow-white hair and beard, wearing a black sombrero
+and a shirt cut very low in the neck. But for a pair
+of kindly eyes, which looked out at you from beneath
+the brim of the hat, he might have been mistaken for
+one of the dwarfs in "Rip Van Winkle." Fudge, having
+now been disciplined by Felix, only sniffed at his
+trousers.
+
+"I see an old gold frame in your window," began
+the new customer. "Might I measure it?"
+
+"Which one, sir?" replied Felix. "There are half
+a dozen of them, I believe."
+
+"Well; will you please come outside? And I will point
+it out. It is the Florentine, there in the corner--
+perhaps a reproduction, but it looks to me like the real
+thing."
+
+"It is a Florentine," answered Felix. "There are
+two or three pictures in the Uffizi with similar frames,
+if I recall them aright. Would you like a look at it?"
+
+"I don't want to trouble you to take it out," said the
+old man apologetically. "It might not do, and I can't
+afford to pay much for it anyway. But I would like
+to measure it; I've got an Academy picture which I
+think will just fit it, but you can't always tell. No, I
+guess I'll let it go. It's all covered up, and you would
+have to move everything to reach it."
+
+"No, I won't have to move a thing. Here, you
+bunch of sunshine! Squeeze in there, Masie, dear,
+and let me know how wide and high that frame is--
+the one next the glass. Take this rule."
+
+The child caught up the rule and, followed by Fudge,
+who liked nothing so well as rummaging, crept among
+the jars, mirrors, and candelabra crowding the window,
+her steps as true as those of a kitten. "Twenty inches
+by thirty-one--no, thirty," she laughed back, tucking
+her little skirts closer to her shapely limbs so as to
+clear a tiny table set out with cups and saucers.
+
+"You're sure it's thirty?" repeated the painter.
+
+"Yes, sir, thirty," and she crept back and laid the
+rule in O'Day's hand.
+
+"Thank you, my dear young lady," bowed the old
+gnome. "It is a pleasure to be served by one so obliging
+and bright. And I am glad to tell you," he added,
+turning to O'Day, "that it's a fit--an exact fit. I
+thought I was about right. I carry things in my eye.
+I bought a head once in Venice, about a foot square,
+and in Spain three months afterward, on my way down
+the hill leading from the Alhambra to the town, there
+on a wall outside a bric-a-brac shop hung a frame which
+I bought for ten francs, and when I got to Paris and
+put them together, I'll be hanged if they didn't fit as
+if they had been made for each other."
+
+"And I know the shop!" broke out Felix, to Masie's
+astonishment. "It's just before you get to the small
+chapel on the left."
+
+"By cracky, you're right! How long since you were
+there?"
+
+"Oh, some five years now."
+
+"Picking up things to sell here, I suppose. Spain
+used to be a great place for furniture and stuffs; I've
+got a lot of them still--bought a whole chest of embroideries
+once in Seville, or rather, at that hospital
+where the big Murillo hangs. You must know that
+picture--Moses striking water from the rock--best
+thing Murillo ever did."
+
+Felix remembered it, and he also remembered many
+of the important pictures in the Prado, especially the
+great Velasquez and the two Goyas, and that head of
+Ribera which hung on the line in the second gallery on
+the right as you entered. And before the two enthusiasts
+were aware of what was going on around
+them, Masie and Fudge had slipped off to dine upstairs
+with her father, Felix and the garrulous old
+painter still talking--renewing their memories with a
+gusto and delight unknown to the old artist for
+years.
+
+"And now about that frame!" the gnome at last
+found time to say. "I've got so little money that
+I'd rather swap something for it, if you don't mind.
+Come down and see my stuff! It's only in 10th
+Street--not twenty minutes' walk. Maybe you can
+sell some of my things for me. And bring that blessed
+little girl--she's the dearest, sweetest thing I've seen
+for an age. Your daughter?"
+
+Felix laughed gently. "No, I wish she were. She
+is Mr. Kling's child."
+
+"And your name?"
+
+"O'Day."
+
+"Irish, of course--well, all the same, come down any
+morning this week. My name is Ganger; I'm on
+the fourth floor--been there twenty-two years. You'll
+have to walk up--we all do. Yes, I'll expect
+you."
+
+Kling, whom Felix consulted, began at once to demur.
+He knew all about the building on 10th Street.
+More than one of his old frames--part of the clearing-
+out sale of some Southern homestead, the portraits
+being reserved because unsalable--had resumed their
+careers on the walls of the Academy as guardians and
+protectors of masterpieces painted by the denizens of
+this same old rattletrap, the Studio Building. Some
+of its tenants, too, had had accounts with him--which
+had been running for more than a year. Bridley, the
+marine painter; Manners, who took pupils; Springlake,
+the landscapist; and half a dozen others had been in
+the habit of dropping into his shop on the lookout for
+something good in Dutch cabinets at half-price, or no
+price at all, until Felix, without knowing where they
+had come from, had put an end to the practice.
+
+"Got a fellow up to Kling's who looks as if he had
+been a college athlete, and knows it all. Can't fool
+him for a cent," was the talk now, instead of "Keep
+at the old Dutchman and you may get it. He don't
+know the difference between a Chippendale sideboard
+and a shelf rack from Harlem. Wait for a
+rainy day and go in. He'll be feeling blue, and you'll
+be sure to get it."
+
+Kling, therefore, when he heard some days later,
+of Felix's proposed visit, began turning over his books,
+looking up several past-due accounts. But Felix
+would have none of it.
+
+"I'm going on a collecting tour, Mr. Kling, this
+lovely June morning," he laughed, "but not for money.
+We will look after that later on. And I will take
+Masie. Come, child, get your hat. Mr. Ganger wanted
+you to come, and so do I. Call Hans, Mr. Kling,
+if the shop gets full. We will be back in an hour."
+
+"Vell, you know best," answered Kling in final surrender.
+"Ven it comes to money, I know. You go
+'long, little Beesvings. I mind de shop."
+
+"And I'll take Fudge," the child cried, "and we'll
+stop at Gramercy Park."
+
+Fudge was out first, scampering down the street and
+back again before they had well closed the door, and
+Masie was as restless. "Oh, I'm just as happy as I
+can be, Uncle Felix. You are always so good. I never
+had any one to walk with until you came, except old
+Aunty Gossberger, and she never let me look at anything."
+
+Days in June--joyous days with all nature brimful
+with laughter--days when the air is a caress, the
+sky a film of pearl and silver, and the eager mob of
+bud, blossom, and leaf, having burst their bonds, are
+flaunting their glories, days like these are always to
+be remembered the world over. But June days about
+Gramercy Park are to be marked in big Red Letters
+upon the calendar of the year. For in Gramercy
+Park the almanac goes to pieces.
+
+Everything is ahead of time. When little counter-
+panes of snow are still covering the baby crocuses away
+off in Central Park, down in Gramercy their pink and
+yellow heads are popping up all over the enclosure.
+When the big trees in Union Square are stretching their
+bare arms, making ready to throw off the winter's
+sleep, every tiny branch in Gramercy is wide awake
+and tingling with new life. When countless dry roots
+in Madison Square are still slumbering under their
+blankets of straw, dreading the hour when they must
+get up and go to work, hundreds of tender green fingers
+in Gramercy are thrust out to the kindly sun, pleading
+for a chance to be up and doing.
+
+And the race keeps up, Gramercy still ahead, until
+the goal of summer is won, and every blessed thing
+that could have burst into bloom has settled down to
+enjoy the siesta of the hot season.
+
+Masie was never tired of watching these changes,
+her wonder and delight increasing as the season
+progressed.
+
+In the earlier weeks there had been nothing but
+flower-beds covered with unsightly clods, muffled
+shrubs, and bandaged vines. Then had come a blaze
+of tulips, exhausting the palette. And then, but a
+short time before--it seemed only yesterday--every
+stretch of brown grass had lost its dull tints in a coat
+of fresh paint, on which the benches, newly scrubbed,
+were set, and each foot of gravelled walks had been
+raked and made ready for the little tots in new straw
+hats who were then trundling their hoops and would
+soon be chasing their first butterflies.
+
+And now, on this lovely June morning, summer had
+come--REAL SUMMER--for a mob of merry roses were
+swarming up a trellis in a mad climb to reach its top,
+the highest blossom waving its petals in triumph.
+
+Felix waited until she had taken it all in, her face
+pressed between the bars (only the privileged possessing
+a key are admitted to the gardens within),
+Fudge scampering up and down, wild to get at the
+two gray squirrels, which some vandal has since stolen,
+and then, remembering his promise to Ganger, he
+called her to him and continued his walk.
+
+But her morning outing was not over. He must
+take her to the marble-cutter's yard, filled with all
+sorts of statues, urns, benches, and columns, and show
+her again the ruts and grooves cut in the big stone well-head,
+and tell her once more the story of how it had
+stood in an old palace in Venice, where the streets were
+all water and everybody went visiting in boats. And
+then she must stop at the florist's to see whether he
+had any new ferns in his window, and have Felix again
+explain the difference between the big and little ferns
+and why the palms had such long leaves.
+
+She was ready now for her visit to the two old painters,
+but this time Felix lingered. He had caught sight
+of a garden wall in the rear of an old house, and with
+his hand in hers had crossed the street to study it the
+closer. The wall was surmounted by a solid, wrought-
+iron railing into which some fifty years or more ago a
+gardener had twisted the tendrils of a wistaria. The
+iron had cut deep, and so inseparable was the embrace
+that human skill could not pull them apart without
+destroying them both.
+
+As he reached the sidewalk and got a clearer view
+of the vine, tracing the weave of its interlaced
+branches and tendrils, Masie noticed that he stopped
+suddenly and for a moment looked away, lost in deep
+thought. She caught, too, the shadow that sometimes
+settled on his face, one she had seen before and wondered
+over. But although her hand was still in his,
+she kept silent until he spoke.
+
+"Look, dear Masie," he said at last, drawing her to
+him, "see what happens to those who are forced into
+traps! It was the big knot that held it back! And
+yet it grew on!"
+
+Masie looked up into his thoughtful face. "Do you
+think the iron hurts it, Uncle Felix?" she asked with a
+sigh.
+
+"I shouldn't wonder; it would me," he faltered.
+
+"But it wasn't the vine's fault, was it?"
+
+"Perhaps not. Maybe when it was planted nobody
+looked after it, nor cared what might happen when it
+grew up. Poor wistaria! Come along, darling!"
+
+
+At last they turned into 10th Street, Fudge scurrying
+ahead to the very door of the grim building, where
+a final dash brought him to Ganger's, his nose having
+sniffed at every threshold they passed and into every
+crack and corner of the three flights of stairs.
+
+Felix's own nostrils were now dilating with pleasure.
+The odor of varnish and turpentine had brought back
+some old memories--as perfumes do for us all. A
+crumpled glove, a bunch of withered roses, the salt
+breath of an outlying marsh, are often but so many
+fairy wands reviving comedies and tragedies on which
+the curtains of forgetfulness have been rung down
+these many years.
+
+Something in the aroma of the place was recalling
+kindred spirits across the sea, when the door was swung
+wide and Ganger in a big, hearty voice, cried:
+
+"Mr. O'Day, is it? Oh, I am glad! And that dear
+child, and-- Hello! who invited you, you restless little
+devil of a dog? Come in, all of you! I've a model, but
+she doesn't care and neither do I. And this, Mr. O'Day,
+is my old friend, Sam Dogger--and he's no relation of
+yours, you imp!"--with a bob of his grizzled head at
+Fudge--"He's a landscape-painter and a good one--
+one of those Hudson River fellows--and would be a
+fine one if he would stick to it. Give me that hat and
+coat, my chick-a-biddy, and I'll hang them up. And
+now here's a chair for you, Mr. O'Day, and please get
+into it--and there's a jar full of tobacco, and if you
+haven't got a pipe of your own you'll find a whole lot
+of corncobs on the mantelpiece and you can help
+yourself."
+
+O'Day had stood smiling at the painter, Masie's
+hand fast in his, Fudge tiptoeing softly about, divided
+between a sense of the strangeness of the place and a
+certainty of mice behind the canvases. Felix knew the
+old fellow's kind, and recognized the note of attempted
+gayety in the voice--the bravado of the poor putting
+their best, sometimes their only, foot foremost.
+
+"No, I won't sit down--not yet," he answered pleasantly;
+"I will look around, if you will let me, and I
+will try one of your pipes before I begin. What a jolly
+place you have here! Don't move"--this to the model,
+a slip of a girl, her eyes muffled in a lace veil, one of
+Ganger's Oriental costumes about her shoulders--"I
+am quite at home, my dear, and if you have been a
+model any length of time you will know exactly what
+that means."
+
+"Oh, she's my Fatima," exclaimed Ganger. "Her
+real name is Jane Hoggson, and her mother does my
+washing, but I call her Fatima for short. She can stop
+work for the day. Get down off the platform, Jane
+Hoggson, and talk to this dear little girl. You see,
+Mr. O'Day, now that the art of the country has gone
+to the devil and nobody wants my masterpieces, I
+have become an Eastern painter, fresh from Cairo,
+where I have lived for half a century--principally on
+Turkish paste and pressed figs. My specialty at present
+--they are all over my walls, as you can see--is
+dancing-girls in silk tights or without them, just as
+the tobacco shops prefer. I also do sheiks, muffled to
+their eyebrows in bath towels, and with scimitars--
+like that one above the mantel. And very profitable,
+too; MOST profitable, my dear sir. I get twenty doldars
+for a real odalisk and fifteen for a bashi-bazouk.
+I can do one about every other day, and I sell one about
+every other month. As for Sam Dogger here--Sam,
+what is your specialty? I said landscapes, Sam, when
+Mr. O'Day came in, but you may have changed since
+we have been talking."
+
+The wizened old gentleman thus addressed sidled
+nearer. He was ten years younger than Ganger, but
+his thin, bloodless hands, watery eyes, their lids edged
+with red, and bald head covered by a black velvet
+skull-cap made him look that much older.
+
+"Nat talks too much, Mr. O'Day," he piped in a
+high-keyed voice. "I often tell Nat that he's got a
+loose hinge in his mouth, and he ought to screw it tight
+or it will choke him some day when he isn't watching.
+He! He!" And a wheezy laugh filled the room.
+
+"Shut up, you old sardine! You don't talk enough.
+If you did you'd get along better. I'll tell you, Mr.
+O'Day, what Sam does. Sam's a patcher-up--a 'puttier.'
+That's what he is. Sam can get more quality
+out of a piece of sandpaper, a pot of varnish, and a
+little glue than any man in the business. If you don't
+believe it, just bring in a fake Romney, or a Gainsborough,
+or some old Spanish or Italian daub with the
+corners knocked off where the signature once was, or a
+scrape down half a cheek, or some smear of a head, with
+half the canvas bare, and put Sam to work on it, and in
+a week or less out it comes just as it left the master's
+easel--'Found by his widow after his death' or 'The
+property of an English nobleman on whose walls it has
+hung for two centuries.' By thunder! isn't it beautiful?"
+He chuckled. "Wonderful how these bullfrogs of
+connoisseurs swallow the dealers' flies! And here am I,
+who can paint any blamed thing from a hen-coop to a
+battle scene, doing signs for tobacco shops; and there is
+Sam, who can do Corots and Rousseaus and Daubignys
+by the yard, obliged to stick to a varnish pot and a
+scraper! Damnable, isn't it? But we don't growl, do
+we, Sammy? When Sammy has anything left over,
+he brings half of it down to me--he lives on the floor
+above--and when I get a little ahead and Sammy is
+behind, I send it up to him. We are the Siamese twins,
+Sammy and I, aren't we, Sam? Where are you, anyway?
+Oh, he's after the dog, I see, moving the canvases
+so the little beggar won't run a thumb-tack in his
+paw. Sam can no more resist a dog, my dear Mr.
+O'Day, than a drunkard can a rum-mill, can you,
+Sam?"
+
+"At it again, are you, Nat?" wheezed the wizened old
+gentleman, dusting his fingers as he reappeared from
+behind the canvases, his watery eyes edged with a
+deeper red, due to his exertions. "Don't pay any attention
+to him, Mr. O'Day. What he says isn't half
+true, and the half that is true isn't worth listening to.
+Now tell me about that frame he's ordered. He don't
+want it, and I've told him so. If you are willing to
+lend it to him, he'll pay you for it when the picture is
+sold, which will never be, and by that time he'll--"
+
+"Dry up, you old varnish pot!" shouted Ganger.
+"how do you know I won't pay for it?"
+
+"Because your picture will never be hung--that's
+why!"
+
+"Mr. Ganger did not want to buy it," broke in Felix,
+between puffs from one of his host's corn-cob pipes.
+"He wanted to exchange something for it--'swap' he
+called it."
+
+"Oh, well," wheezed Sam, "that's another thing.
+What were you going to give him in return, Nat?
+Careful, now--there's not much left."
+
+"Oh, maybe some old stuff, Sammy. Move along,
+you blessed little child--and you, too, Jane Hoggson!
+You're sitting on my Venetian wedding-chest--real,
+too! I bought it forty years ago in Padua. There are
+some old embroideries down in the bottom, or were,
+unless Sam has been in here while I-- Oh, no, here
+they are! Beg pardon, Sammy, for suspecting you.
+There--what do you think of these?"
+
+Felix bent over the pile of stuffs, which, under
+Ganger's continued dumpings, was growing larger
+every minute--the last to see the light being part of a
+priest's Cope and two chasubles.
+
+"There--that is enough!" said Felix. "This chasuble
+alone is worth more than the frame. We will put
+the Florentine frame at ten dollars and the vestment
+at fifteen. What others have you, Mr. Ganger?
+There's a great demand for these things when they
+are good, and these are good. Where did you get
+them?"
+
+"Worth more than the frame? Holy Moses!"
+whistled Ganger. "Why, I thought you'd want all
+there was in the chest! And you say there are people
+out of a lunatic asylum looking for rags like this?"
+And he held up one end of the cope.
+
+"Yes, many of them. To me, I must say, they are
+worth nothing, as I don't like the idea of mixing up
+church and state. But Mr. Kling's customers do, and
+if they choose to say their prayers before a chasuble
+on a priest's back on Sunday and make a sofa cushion
+of it the next day, that is their affair, not mine. And
+now, what else? You spoke of some costumes this
+morning."
+
+"Yes, I did speak of my costumes, but I'm afraid
+they are too modern for you--I make 'em up myself.
+Get up, Jane, and let Mr. O'Day see what you've got
+on!"
+
+Jane jumped to her feet, looking less Oriental than
+ever, her spangled veil having dropped about her
+shoulders, her red hair and freckled face now in full
+view.
+
+"I think her dress is beautiful, Uncle Felix," whispered
+Masie.
+
+"Do you, sweetheart? Well, then, maybe I might
+better look again. What else have you in the way of
+Costumes, Mr. Ganger?"
+
+Dogger stepped up. "He hasn't got a single thing
+worth a cent; he buys these pieces down in Elizabeth
+Street, out of push-carts, and Jane Hoggson's mother
+sews them together. But, my deary"--here he laid
+his hand on Masie's head--"would you like to see
+some REAL ONES, all-gold-and-silver lace--and satin shoes
+--and big, high bonnets with feathers?"
+
+Masie clapped her hands in answer and began whirling
+about the room, her way of telling everybody that
+she was too happy to keep still.
+
+"Well, wait here; I won't be a minute."
+
+"Sam's fallen in love with her, too," muttered Ganger,
+"and I don't blame him. Come here, you darling,
+and let me talk to you. Do you know you are the first
+little girl that's ever been inside this place for ever--
+and ever and EVER--so long? Think of that, will you?
+Not one single little girl since-- Oh, well, I just can't
+remember--it's such an awful long time. Dreadful,
+isn't it? Hear that old Sam stumbling down-stairs!
+Now let's see what he brings you."
+
+Dogger's arms were full. "I've a silk dress," he
+puffed, "and a ruffled petticoat, and a great leghorn
+hat--and just look at these feathers, and you never saw
+such a pair of slippers and silk stockings! And now
+let's try 'em on!"
+
+The child uttered a little scream of delight. "Oh,
+Uncle Felix! Isn't it lovely? Can't I have them?
+Please, Uncle Felix!" she cried, both hands around his
+shirt collar in supplication.
+
+"Take 'em all, missy," shouted Sam. Then, turning
+to Felix: "They belonged to an actor who hired half
+of my studio and left them to pay for his rent, which
+they didn't do, not by a long chalk, and-- Oh, here's
+another hat--and, oh, such a lovely old cloak! Yes,
+take 'em all, missy--I'm glad to get rid of 'em--before
+Nat claps them on Jane and goes in for Puritan maidens
+and Lady Gay Spankers. Oh, I know you, Nat! I
+wouldn't trust you out of my sight! Take 'em along,
+I say." He stopped and turned toward Felix again.
+
+"Couldn't you bring her down here once in a while,
+Mr. O'Day?" he continued, a strange, pathetic note in
+his wheezing voice. "Just for ten minutes, you know,
+when she's out with the dog, or walking with you.
+Nobody ever comes up these stairs but tramps and
+book agents--even the models steer clear. It would
+help a lot if you'd bring her. Wouldn't you like to
+come, missy? What did you say her name was? Oh,
+yes--Masie--well, my child, that's not what I'd call
+you; I'd call you--well, I guess I wouldn't call you anything
+but just a dear, darling little girl! Yes, that's
+just what I'd call you. And you are going to let me
+give them to her, aren't you, Mr. O'Day?"
+
+Felix grasped the old fellow's thin, dry hand in his
+own strong fingers. For an instant a strange lump in
+his throat clogged his speech. "Of course, I'll take the
+costumes, and many thanks for your wish to make the
+child happy," he answered at last. "I am rather foolish
+about Masie myself; and may I tell you, Mr. Dogger,
+that you are a very fine old gentleman, and that I am
+delighted to have made your acquaintance, and that,
+if you will permit me I shall certainly come again?"
+
+Dogger was about to reply when Masie, Looking up
+into the wizened face, cried: "And may I put them on
+when I like, if I'm very, very--oh, so VERY careful?"
+
+"Yes, you buttercup, and you can wear them full of
+holes and do anything else you please to them, and I
+won't care a mite."
+
+And then, with Jane Hoggson's help, he put on
+Masie's own hat and coat, which Ganger had hung on
+an easel, and Masie called Fudge from his mouse-hole,
+and Felix shook hands first with Nat and then with
+Sam, and last of all with Jane, who looked at him
+askance out of one eye as she bobbed him half a
+courtesy. And then everybody went out into the hall
+and said good-by once more over the banisters, Felix
+with the bundle under his arm, Masie throwing kisses
+to the two old gnomes craning their necks over the
+banisters, Fudge barking every step of the way down
+the stairs.
+
+
+
+
+Chapter VI
+
+
+
+The glimpse which Felix had caught of these two
+poor, unappreciated old men, living contentedly from
+hand to mouth, gayly propping each other up when one
+or the other weakened, had strangely affected him. If,
+as he reasoned, such battered hulks, stranded these
+many years on the dry sands of incompetency, with no
+outlook for themselves across the wide sea over which
+their contemporaries were scudding with all sails set
+before the wind of success--if these castaways, their
+past always with them and their hoped-for future forever
+out of their reach, could laugh and be merry, why
+should not he carry some of their spirit into his relations
+with the people among whom his lot was now
+thrown?
+
+That these people had all been more than good to
+him, and that he owed them in return something more
+than common politeness now took possession of his
+mind. Few such helping hands had ever been held
+out to him. When they bad been, the proffered palm
+had generally concealed a hidden motive. Hereafter
+he would try to add what he could of his own to the
+general fund of good-fellowship and good deeds.
+
+He would continue his nightly search--and he had
+not missed a single evening--but he would return
+earlier, so as to be able to spend an hour reading to
+Masie before she went to bed, or with his other friends
+and acquaintances of "The Avenue"--especially with
+Kitty and John. He had been too unmindful of them,
+getting back to his lodgings at any hour of the night,
+either to let himself in by his pass-key--all the lights
+out and everybody asleep--or to find only Kitty or
+John, or both, at work over their accounts or waiting
+up for Mike or Bobby or for one of their wagons detained
+on some dock. And since Kling had raised his
+salary, enabling him not only to recover his dressing-
+case, which then rested on his mantel, but to take his
+meals wherever he happened to be at the moment--he
+had seldom dined at home--a great relief in many ways
+to a man of his tastes.
+
+Kitty, though he did not know it, had demurred
+and had talked the matter over with John, wondering
+whether she had neglected his comfort. When
+she had questioned him, he had settled it with a pat
+on her shoulders. "Just let me have my way this
+time, my dear Mrs. Cleary," he had said gently but
+firmly. "I am a bad boarder and cause you no end
+of trouble, for I am never on time. And please keep
+the price as it is, for I don't pay you half enough for all
+your goodness to me."
+
+Now under the impulse of his new resolution, and
+rather ashamed of his former attitude in view of all
+her unremitting attentions, he resumed his place at
+her table. Nor did he stop here. He taught her to
+broil a chop over her coal fire by removing the stove
+lid--until then they had been fried--and a new way
+with a rasher of bacon, using the carving-fork instead
+of a pan. The clearing of the famous coffee-pot
+with an egg--making the steaming mixture anew
+whenever wanted instead of letting the dented old
+pot simmer away all day on the back of the stove--
+was another innovation, making the evening meal just
+that much more enjoyable, greatly to the delight of
+the hostess, who was prouder of her boarder than of
+any other human being who had come into her life,
+except John and Bobby.
+
+These renewed intimacies opened his eyes to another
+phase of the life about him, and he soon found himself
+growing daily more interested in the sweet family
+relations of the small household.
+
+"What do I care for what we haven't got," Kitty
+said to him one night when some economies in the
+small household were being discussed. "I'm better
+off than half the women who stop at my door in their
+carriages. I got two arms, and I can sleep eight hours
+when I get the chance, and John loves me and so does
+Bobby and so does my big white horse Jim. There
+ain't one of them women as knows what it is to work
+for her man and him to work for her." All the other
+married couples he had seen had pulled apart, or lived
+apart--mentally, at least. These two seemed bound
+together heart and soul.
+
+More than once he contrived to stop at the Studio
+Building, where both of the old fellows were almost
+always to be found sitting side by side, and, picking
+them up bodily, he had set them down on hard chairs
+in a rathskeller on Sixth Avenue, where they had all
+dined together, the old fellows warmed up with two
+beers apiece. This done, he had escorted them back,
+seen them safely up-stairs, and returned to his lodgings.
+
+It was after one of these mild diversions that, before
+going to his room, he pushed open the door of the
+Clearys' sitting-room with a cheery "May I come in,
+Mistress Kitty?"
+
+"Oh, but I'm glad to see ye!" was the joyous answer.
+"I was sayin' to myself: 'Maybe ye'd come in before
+he went.' Here's Father Cruse I been tellin' ye about--
+and, Father, here's Mr. O'Day that's livin' wid us."
+
+A full-chested man of forty, in a long black cassock,
+standing six feet in his stockings, his face alight with
+the glow of a freshly kindled pleasure, rose from his
+chair and held out his hand. "The introduction should
+be quite unnecessary, Mr. O'Day," he exclaimed in
+the full, sonorous voice of a man accustomed to public
+speaking. "You seem to have greatly attached these
+dear people to you, which in itself is enough, for there
+are none better in my parish."
+
+Felix, who had been looking the speaker over, taking
+in his thoughtful face, deep black eyes, and more especially
+the heavy black eyebrows that lay straight above
+them, felt himself warmed by the hearty greeting and
+touched by its sincerity. "I agree with you, Father,
+in your praise of them," he said as he grasped the
+priest's hand. "They have been everything to me since
+my sojourn among them. And, if I am not mistaken,
+you and I have something else in common. My people
+are from Limerick."
+
+"And mine from Cork," laughed the priest as he
+waved his hand toward his empty chair, adding: "Let
+me move it nearer the table."
+
+"No, I will take my old seat, if you do not mind.
+Please do not move, Mr. Cleary; I am near enough."
+
+"And are you an importation, Father, like myself?"
+continued Felix, shifting the rocker for a better view
+of the priest.
+
+"No. I am only an Irishman by inheritance. I was
+brought up on the soil, born down in Greenwich village
+--and a very queer old part of the town it is. Strange
+to say, there are very few changes along its streets
+since my boyhood. I found the other day the very
+slanting cellar door I used to slide on when I was so
+high! Do you know Greenwich?"
+
+He was sitting upright as he spoke, his hands hidden
+in the folds of his black cassock, wondering meanwhile
+what was causing the deep lines on the brow of this
+high-bred, courteous man, and the anxious look in the
+deep-set eyes. As priest he had looked into many
+others, framed in the side window of the confessional--
+the most wonderful of all schools for studying human
+nature--but few like those of the man before him;
+eyes so clear and sincere, yet shadowed by what the
+priest vaguely felt was some overwhelming sorrow.
+
+"Oh, yes, I know it as I know most of New York,"
+Felix was saying; "it is close to Jefferson Market and
+full of small houses, where I should think people could
+live very cheaply"; adding, with a sigh, "I have
+walked a great deal about your city," and as suddenly
+checked himself, as if the mere statement might lead
+to discussion.
+
+Kitty, who had been darning one of John's gray
+yarn stockings--the needle was still between her thumb
+and forefinger--leaned forward. "That's the matter
+with him, Father, and he'll never be happy until he
+stops it," she cried. "He don't do nothin' but tramp
+the streets until I think he'd get that tired he'd go to
+sleep standin' up."
+
+Felix turned toward her. "And why not, Mrs.
+Cleary?" he asked with a smile. "How can I learn
+anything about this great metropolis unless I see it
+for myself?"
+
+"But it's all Sunday and every night! I get that
+worried about ye sometimes, I'm ready to cry. And
+ye won't listen to a thing I say! I been waitin' for
+Father Cruse to get hold of ye, and I'm goin' to say
+what's in my mind." Here she looked appealingly to
+the priest. "Now, ye just talk to him, Father, won't
+ye, please?"
+
+The priest, laughing heartily, raised his protesting
+hands toward her. "If he fails to heed you, Mrs.
+Cleary, he certainly won't listen to me. What do you
+say for yourself, Mr. O'Day?"
+
+Felix twisted his head until he could address his
+words more directly to his hostess. "Please keep on
+scolding me, my dear Mrs. Cleary. I love to hear you.
+But there is Father Cruse, why not sympathize with
+him? He tramps to some purpose. I am only the
+Wandering Jew, who does it for exercise."
+
+Kitty held the point of the darning-needle straight
+out toward Felix. "But why must you do it Sundays,
+Mr. O'Day? That's what I want to know."
+
+"But Sunday is my holiday."
+
+"Yes, and there's early mass. Ye'd think he'd come,
+wouldn't ye, Father?"
+
+One of O'Day's low, murmuring laughs, that always
+sounded as if he had grown unaccustomed to letting
+the whole of it pass his lips, filtered through the room.
+
+"You see what a heathen I am, Father," he exclaimed.
+"But I am going to turn over a new leaf. I shall honor
+myself by visiting St. Barnabas's some day very soon,
+and shall sit in the front pew--or, perhaps, in yours,
+Mrs. Cleary, if you will let me--now that I know who
+officiates," and he inclined his head graciously toward
+the priest. "I hope the service is not always in the
+morning!"
+
+"Oh, no, we have a service very often at night, sometimes
+at eight o'clock."
+
+"And how long does that last?"
+
+"Perhaps an hour."
+
+"And so if I should come at eight and wait until you
+are free, you could give me, perhaps, another hour of
+yourself?"
+
+"Yes, and with the greatest pleasure. But why at
+those hours?" asked the priest with some curiosity.
+
+"Because I am very busy at other times. But I want
+to be quite frank. If I come, it will not be because I
+need your service, but because I shall want to see YOU.
+Your church is not my church, and never has been, but
+your people--especially your priests--have always had
+my admiration and respect. I have known many of
+your brethren in my time. One in particular, who is
+now very old--a dear abbe, living in Paris. Heaven
+is made up of just such saints."
+
+The priest clasped his hands together. "We have
+many such, sir," he replied solemnly. The acknowledgment
+came reverently, with a gleam that shone from
+under the heavy brows.
+
+Felix caught its brilliance, and the sense of a certain
+bigness in the man passed through him. He had been
+prepared for his quiet, well-bred dignity. All the
+priests he had known were thoroughbreds in their manner
+and bearing; their self-imposed restraint, self-effacement,
+absence of all unnecessary gesture, and
+modulated voices had made them so; but the warmth
+of this one's underlying nature was as unexpected as
+it was pleasurable.
+
+"Yes, you have many such," O'Day repeated simply
+after a slight pause during which his thoughts seemed
+to have wandered afar. "And now tell me," he
+asked, rousing himself to renewed interest, "where
+your work lies--your real work, I mean. The mass is
+your rest."
+
+The priest turned quickly. He wondered if there
+were a purpose behind the question. "Oh, among my
+people," he answered, the slow, even, non-committal
+tones belying the eagerness of his gesture.
+
+"Yes, I know; but go on. This is a great city--
+greater than I had ever supposed--greater, in many
+ways, than London. The luxury and waste are appalling;
+the misery is more appalling still. What sort of
+men and women do you put your hands on?"
+
+"Here are some of them," answered the priest, his
+forefinger pointing to Kitty and John.
+
+"We could all of us do without churches and priests,"
+ventured Felix, his eyes kindling, "if your parishioners
+were as good as these dear people."
+
+"Well, there's Bobby," laughed the priest, his face
+turned toward the boy, who was sound asleep in his
+chair, Toodles, the door-mat of a dog, sprawled at his
+feet.
+
+"And are there no others, Father Cruse?"
+
+The priest, now convinced of a hidden meaning in
+the insistent tones, grew suddenly grave, and laid his
+hand on O'Day's knee. "Come and see me some time,
+and I will tell you. My district runs from Fifth Avenue
+to the East River, from the homes of the rich to the
+haunts of the poor, and there is no form of vice and no
+depth of suffering the world over that does not knock
+daily at my study door. Do not let us talk about it
+here. Perhaps some day we may work together, if you
+are willing."
+
+Kitty, who had been listening, her heart throbbing
+with pride over Felix, who had held his own with her
+beloved priest, and still fearing that the talk would lead
+away from what was uppermost in her mind--O'Day's
+welfare--now sprang from her chair before Felix could
+reply. "Of course he'll come, Father, once he's seen
+ye."
+
+"Yes, I will," answered Felix cordially. "And it
+will not be very long either, Father. And now I must
+say good night. It has been a real pleasure to meet
+you. You have been a most kindly grindstone to a
+very dull and useless knife, and I am greatly sharpened
+up. After all, I think we both agree that it is rather
+difficult to keep anything bright very long unless you
+rub it against something still brighter and keener.
+Thank you again, Father," and with a pat of his fingers
+on Kitty's shoulder as he passed, and a good night to
+John, he left the room on his way to his chamber above.
+
+Kitty waited until the sound of O'Day's footsteps
+told her that he had reached the top of the stairs and
+then turned to the priest. "Well, what do ye think of
+him? Have I told ye too much? Did ye ever know the
+beat of a man like that, livin' in a place like this and
+eatin' at my table, and never a word of complaint out
+o' him, and everybody lovin' him the moment they
+clap their two eyes on him?"
+
+The priest made no immediate answer. For some
+seconds he gazed into the fire, then looked at John as
+if about to seek some further enlightenment, but changing
+his mind faced Kitty. "Is his mail sent here?"
+
+"What? His letters?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"He don't have any--not one since he's been wid us."
+
+"Anybody come to see him?"
+
+"Niver a soul."
+
+The priest ruminated for a moment more, and then
+said slowly, as if his mind were made up: "It does not
+matter; somebody or something has hurt him, and he
+has gone off to die by himself. In the old days such men
+sought the monasteries; to-day they try to lose themselves
+in the crowd."
+
+Again he ruminated, the delicate antennae of his
+hands meeting each other at the tips.
+
+"A most extraordinary case," he said at last. "No
+malice, no bitterness--yet eating his heart out. Pitiful,
+really; and the worst thing about it is that you can't
+help him, for his secret will die with him. Bring him
+to me sometime, and let me know before you come so
+I may be at home."
+
+"You don't think there's anything crooked about
+him, Father, do you?" said John, who had sat tilted
+back against the wall and now brought the front legs
+of his chair to the floor with a bang.
+
+"What do you mean by crooked. John?" asked the
+priest.
+
+"Well, he blew in here from nowheres, bringin' a
+couple of trunks and a hat-box, and not much in 'em,
+from what Kitty says. And he might blow out again
+some fine night, leavin' his own full of bricks, carting
+off instead some I keep on storage for my customers,
+full of God knows what!--but somethin' that's worth
+money, or they wouldn't have me take care of 'em.
+There ain't nothin' to prevent him, for he's got the
+run of the place day and night. And Kitty's that dead
+stuck on him she'll believe anything he says."
+
+Kitty wheeled around in her seat, her big strong fist
+tightly clinched. "Hold your tongue, John Cleary!"
+she cried indignantly. "I'd knock any man down--
+I don't care how big he was--that would be a-sayin'
+that of ye without somethin' to back it up, and that's
+what'll happen to ye if ye don't mend your manners.
+Can't ye see, Father, that Mr. Felix O'Day is the real
+thing, and no sham about him? I do, and Kling does,
+and so does that darlin' Masie, and every man, woman,
+and child around here that can get their hands on him
+or a word wid him. Shame on ye, John! Tell him so,
+Father Cruse!"
+
+The priest kept silent, waiting until the slight family
+squall--never very long nor serious between John and
+Kitty--had spent itself.
+
+"Well, I'm not sayin' anything against Mr. O'Day,
+Kitty," broke in John. "I'm only askin' for information.
+What do you think of him, Father? What's he
+up to, anyhow? There ain't any of 'em can fool ye.
+I don't want to watch him--I ain't got no time--and
+I won't if he's all right."
+
+The priest rose from his chair and stood looking
+down at Kitty, his hands clasped behind his back.
+"You believe in him, do you not?"
+
+"I do--up to the handle-and I don't care who
+knows it!"
+
+"Then I would not worry, John Cleary, if I were you."
+
+"Well, what does she know about it, Father?"
+
+"What every good woman always knows about
+every good man. And now I must go."
+
+
+
+
+Chapter VII
+
+
+
+As was to be expected, Kitty's first words to O'Day
+on the following morning related to his meeting with
+Father Cruse. "Ye'll not find a better man anywhere,"
+she had said to him, "and there ain't a trouble
+he can't cure."
+
+Felix had smiled at her enthusiasm for her idol and
+comforted her by saying that it had given him distinct
+pleasure to meet him, adding: "A big man with a big
+soul, that priest of yours, Mistress Kitty. I begin to
+see now why you and your husband lead such human
+lives. Yes--a fine man."
+
+But no closer intimacy ensued, nor did he pursue
+the acquaintance--not even on the following Sunday,
+when Kitty urged him, almost to importunity, to go
+and hear the Father say mass. He was not ready as
+yet, he said to himself, for friendships among men of
+his own intellectual caliber. In the future he might
+decide otherwise. For the present, at least, he meant
+to find whatever peace and comfort he could among
+the simple people immediately around him--meagrely
+educated, often strangely narrow-minded, but possessing
+qualities which every day aroused in him a
+profounder admiration.
+
+With the quick discernment of the man of the world
+--one to whom many climes and many people were
+familiar--he had begun to discover for himself that
+this great middle class was really the backbone of the
+whole civil structure about him, its self-restraint,
+sanity, and cleanliness marking the normal in the
+tide-gauge of the city's activities; the hysteria of the
+rich and the despair of the poor being the two extremes.
+
+Here, as he repeatedly observed, were men absorbed
+in their several humble occupations, proud of their
+successes, helpful of those who fell by the wayside,
+good citizens and good friends, honest in their business
+relations, each one going about his appointed task and
+leaving the other fellow unmolested in his. Here, too,
+were women, good mothers to their children and good
+wives to their husbands, untiring helpmates, regarding
+their responsibilities as mutual, and untroubled as yet
+by thoughts of their own individual identities or what
+their respective husbands owed to them.
+
+This was why, instead of renewing his acquaintance
+with Father Cruse, he preferred to halt for a few
+minutes' talk with some one of Kitty's neighbors
+--it might be the liveryman next door who had been
+forty years on the Avenue, or one of the shopkeepers
+near by, most of whom were welcome to Kitty's
+sitting-room and kitchen, and all of whom had shared
+her coffee. Or it might be that he would call at Digwell's,
+whose undertaker's shop was across the way and
+whose door was always open, the gas burning as befitted
+one liable to be called upon at any hour of the
+day or night; or perhaps he would pass the time of
+day with Pestler, the druggist; or give ten minutes
+to Porterfield, listening to his talk about the growing
+prices of meat.
+
+Had you asked his former associates why a man of
+O'Day's intelligence should have cultivated the acquaintance
+of an undertaker like Digwell, for instance,
+whose face was a tombstone, his movements when on
+duty those of a crow stepping across wet places in a
+cornfield, they would have shaken their heads in disparaging
+wonder. Had you asked Felix he would have
+answered with a smile: "Why to hear Digwell laugh!"
+And then, warming to his subject, he would have told
+you what a very jolly person Digwell really was, if
+you were fortunate enough to find him unoccupied in
+his private den, way back in the rear of his shop.
+How he had entertained him by the hour with anecdotes
+of his early life when he was captain of a baseball
+team, and what fun he had gotten out of it, and
+did still, when he could sneak away to help pack the
+benches.
+
+Had you inquired about Pestler, the druggist, there
+would have followed some such reply as: "Pestler? Did
+you say? Because Pestler is one of the most surprising
+men I know. He has kept that same shop, he tells me,
+for twenty-two years. Of course, he knows only a
+very little about drugs--just enough to keep him out
+of the hands of the police--but then none of you are
+aware, perhaps, that Pestler is also a student? You
+might think, when you saw only the top of his fuzzy,
+half-bald head sticking up above the wooden partition,
+that he was putting up a prescription, but you
+would be wrong. What he is really doing, with the aid
+of his microscope, is dissecting bugs, and pasting them
+on glass slides for use in the public schools. And he
+plays the violin--and very well, too! He often entertains
+me with his music."
+
+Sanderson, the florist, was another denizen who interested
+him. To look at Sanderson tying ribbons on
+funeral wreaths, no one would ever have supposed that
+there was rarely a first night at the opera at which he
+was not present, paying for his ticket, too, and rather
+despising Pestler, who got his theatre tickets free because
+he allowed the managers the use of his windows
+for advertisements. Felix forgave even his frozen
+roses whenever the Scotchman, having found a sympathetic
+listener, launched out upon his earlier experiences
+among opera stars, especially his acquaintance
+with Patti, whom he had known before she became
+great and whom he always spoke of as devotees do of
+the Madonna--with bated breath and a sigh of despair
+that he would never hear her again.
+
+Then, too, there was Codman. O'Day was always
+enthusiastic over Codman. "I have taken a great
+fancy to that fishmonger, and a fine fellow he is," he
+said one night to Kitty and John. "His shop was shut
+when I first called on him, but he was good enough
+to open it at my knock, and I have just spent half an
+hour, and a very delightful half-hour, watching him
+handle the sea food, as he calls it, in his big refrigerator.
+I got a look, too, at his chest and his arms, and
+at his pretty wife and children. She is really the best
+type of the two. American, you say, both of them,
+and a fine pair they are, and he tells me he pulled a
+surf-boat in your coast-guard when he was a lad of
+twenty, then took up fishing, and then went into
+Fulton Market, helping at a stall, and now he is up
+here with two delivery wagons and four assistants and
+is a member of a fish union, whatever that is. It's
+astonishing! And yet I have met him many a time
+pushing his baby-carriage around the block."
+
+"Yes," Kitty answered, putting on a shovel of coal,
+"and I'll lay ye a wager, Mr. O'Day, that Polly Codman
+will be drivin' through Central Park in her carriage
+before five years is out; and she deserves it, for
+there ain't a finer woman from here to the Battery."
+
+"I am quite sure of it, Mistress Kitty. That is where
+the American comes in--or, perhaps it is the New
+Yorker. I have not been here long enough to find
+out."
+
+Of all these neighbors, however, it was Timothy Kelsey,
+the hunchback, largely because of his misfortunes
+and especially because of his vivid contrast to all the
+others, who appealed to him most. Tim, as has been
+said, kept the second-hand book-shop, half-way down
+the block on the opposite side of the street. He was but
+a year or two older than O'Day, but you would never
+have supposed it had Tim not told you--and not then
+unless you had looked close and followed the lines of
+care deep cut in his face and the wrinkles that crowded
+close to his deep, hollowed-out eyes. When he was a
+boy of two, his sister, a girl of six, had let him drop
+to the sidewalk, and he had never since straightened
+his back. The customary outlets by which fully
+equipped men earn their living having been denied
+Tim, he had passed his boyhood days in one of the
+small, down-town libraries cataloguing the books.
+With this came the opportunity to attend the auction
+sales when some rare volume was to be bid for, he representing
+the library. A small shop of his own followed
+in the lower part of the town, and then the one
+a little below Kling's, where he lived alone with only
+a caretaker to look after his wants.
+
+Kelsey had arrived one morning shortly after Felix
+had entered Kling's service, carrying a heavily bound
+book which he laid on a glass case under Otto's nose.
+"Take a look at it, Otto," he said, after pausing a moment
+to get his breath, the volume being heavy.
+"There is more brass than leather on the outside, and
+more paint than text on the inside. I have two others
+from the same collection. It is in your line rather than
+in mine, I take it. What do you think of it? Could
+you sell it?"
+
+Kling dropped his glasses from his forehead to the
+bridge of his flat nose. "Vell! Dot is a funny-looking
+book, Tim. Dot is awful old, you know."
+
+"Yes, seventeenth century, I think," replied Tim.
+
+"Vot you tink, Mr. O'Day? Ain't dot a k'veer book?
+Oh, you don't have met my new clerk, have you, Tim?
+Vell dot's funny, for he lives over at Kitty's. Vell, dis
+is him--Mr. Felix O'Day. Tim Kelsey is an olt friend
+of mine, Mr. O'Day. You must have seen dot k'veer
+shop vich falls down into de cellar from de sidevalk--
+vell, dat's Tim's."
+
+Felix smiled good-naturedly, bowed to Kelsey, and
+taking the huge, brass-bound volume in his hands,
+passed his fingers gently across the leather and then
+over the heavy clamps, turning the book to the light
+of the window so as to examine the chasing the closer.
+Tim, who had been watching him, remarked the ease
+with which he handled the volume and the care with
+which he ran his eye along the edges of the inside of
+the back before. paying the slightest attention to the
+quality of the vellum or to the title-page.
+
+"Did you say you thought it was seventeenth century,
+Mr. Kelsey?" Felix asked thoughtfully.
+
+"Yes, I should say so."
+
+"I would put it somewhat earlier. The binding is
+wholly tool-work, much older than the brasses, which,
+I think, have been renewed--at least the clamps--
+certainly one of them is of a later period. The vellum
+and the illuminated text"--again he scrutinized the
+title-page, this time turning a few of the inside leaves--
+"is before Gutenberg's time. Handwork, of course,
+by some old monk. Very curious and very interesting.
+And you say there are two others like this one?"
+
+The hunchback, whose big, shaggy head reached but
+a very little above the case over which the colloquy was
+taking place, stretched himself upon his toes as if to see
+Felix the better. "You seem to know something of
+books, sir," he remarked in a surprised tone. "May
+I ask where you picked it up?"
+
+Again Felix smiled, a curious expression lurking
+around his thin lips--a way with him when he intended
+to be non-committal. He was now more interested in
+the speaker than in the object before him, especially in
+the big dome head and sunken eyes, shaded by bushy
+eyebrows, the only feature of the man which seemed to
+have had a chance to grow to its normal size. He had
+caught, too, a certain high-pitched note, one of suffering
+running through the hunchback's speech--often
+discernible in those who have been robbed of their full
+physical strength and completeness.
+
+"Oh, I don't know, Mr. Kelsey. There are, as you
+know, but few old clamp books like this in existence.
+There are some in the Bibliotheque in Paris, and a good
+many in Spain. I remember handling one some years
+ago in Cordova. When you have seen a fine example
+you are not apt to forget it. Why do you sell it?"
+
+Kelsey settled down upon his heels--the upper half
+of his misshapen body telescoping the lower--and
+shoved both hands into his pockets. "I did not come
+here to sell it"--there was a touch of irony in his voice--
+"I came to find out whether Kling could sell it. Do
+you think YOU could?"
+
+"I might, or I might not. Only a few people about
+here, so I understand, can appreciate this sort of
+thing."
+
+"What is it worth?" He was still eying him closely.
+People who praised his things were those who never
+wanted to buy.
+
+"Not very much," replied Felix.
+
+"Oh, but I thought you said it was very rare?"
+
+"So it is--almost too rare--and almost too old. If
+it had been done fifty or more years later, on one of
+Gutenberg's presses, Quaritch might give you two
+thousand pounds for it. Hand-work--which ought
+really to be more valuable than machine-work--is
+worth pence, where the other sells for pounds. One of
+Gutenberg's Bibles sold here a year ago for three
+thousand guineas, so I am told. What are the other
+two like?"
+
+"No difference--a clasp is gone from one. The other
+is--" He stopped, his mien suddenly changing to one
+of marked respect, even to one of awe. "Will you do
+me a favor, sir?"
+
+"With pleasure"--again the same quiet smile. He
+had read the financial workings of the bookseller's
+mind with infinite amusement and decided to see more
+of him. "What can I do for you?"
+
+"I want you to come over with me to my shop. You
+won't object, will you, Otto? I won't keep him a
+minute."
+
+"Let me come a little later, sir, say about nine o'clock.
+I have work here until six and an engagement, which
+is important, until nine. You are open as late as
+that?"
+
+"Oh, I am always open, or can be," Kelsey answered.
+"What would I shut up shop for except to keep out
+the rats--human and otherwise? I live in my place,
+and, as I live alone, nobody ever disturbs me--nobody
+I want to see--and I do want you, and want you very
+much. Well, then, come at nine, and if the blinds
+are up, ring the bell." And so the acquaintance began.
+
+
+And yet, interesting as he found these diversions
+with his neighbors, there were moments when, despite
+his determination to be cheerful and to add his quota to
+the general fund of good-fellowship, he had to summon
+all his courage to prevent his spirit sinking to its lowest
+ebb. It was then he would turn to the thing that lay
+nearest to hand, his work--work often so irksome to
+him that, but for his sense both of obligation and of
+justice to his employer and his love for Masie, he would
+have abandoned it altogether.
+
+A possible relief came when through the protests of
+a customer he had begun to realize the clearer Kling's
+deficiencies and had, in consequence, cast about for
+some plan of helping him to do a larger and more remunerative
+business.
+
+Several ways by which this could be accomplished
+were outlined in his mind. The disorder everywhere
+apparent in the shop should first come to an end. The
+present chaos of tables, chairs, bureaus, and sideboards,
+heaped higgledy-piggledy one upon the other--the
+customers edging their way between lanes of dusty
+furniture--must next be abolished. So must the
+jumble of glass, china, curios, and lamps. This completed,
+color and form would be considered, each
+taking its proper place in the general scheme.
+
+To accomplish these results, all the unsalable, useless,
+and ugly furniture taking up valuable space must be
+carted away to some auction room and sold for what
+it would bring. Light, air, and much-needed room
+would then follow, and prices advanced to make up
+for the loss on the "rattletrap" and the "rickety."
+Stuffs which had been poked away in worthless bureau
+drawers for years, as being too ragged even to show,
+were next to be hauled out, patched, and darned, and
+then hung on the bare white walls, concealing the
+dirt and the cracks.
+
+And these improvements, strange to say--Kling
+being as obstinate as the usual Dutch cabinetmaker,
+and as set in his ways--were finally carried out;
+slowly at first, and with a rush later when every
+customer who entered the door began by complimenting
+Otto on the improvement. Soon the sales increased
+to such an extent and the stock became so
+depleted that Kling was obliged to look around for
+articles of a better and higher grade to take its place.
+
+At this juncture a happy and unforeseen accident
+came to his aid. A bric-a-brac dealer with a shop in
+Jersey City filled with some very good English and
+Italian patterns and a fine assortment of European
+gatherings--most of them rare, and all of them good--
+fell ill and was ordered to Colorado for his health. His
+wife had insisted on going with him, and thus the whole
+concern, including its good-will--worthless to Kling--
+was offered to him at half its value.
+
+O'Day spent the entire morning crawling in and out
+of the interstices of the choked-up Jersey City shop;
+Masie, as his valuable assistant, propped up with Fudge
+on a big table until he had finished. The next day the
+bargain was made. Mike, Bobby, the two Dutchies,
+and both Kitty's teams were then called in and the
+transfer began.
+
+It was when this collection of things really worth
+having were being moved into their new home under
+Felix's personal direction that Masie announced to
+him an important event. They were on the second
+floor at the time, overlooking Hans and Mike, who had
+just brought up-stairs the first of the purchase, a huge,
+high-backed gilt chair, stately in its proportions--
+Spanish, Felix thought--with a few renovations about
+the arms and back, but a good specimen withal. The
+chair had evidently excited her imagination, reminding
+her, perhaps, of some of the pictures in Tim Kelsey's
+fairy books, for after looking at it for a moment she
+began clapping her hands and whirling about the
+room.
+
+"I've thought of such a lovely thing, Uncle Felix!
+Let's play kings and queens! I will sit in this chair
+and will dress Fudge up like a page and everybody will
+come up and courtesy, or I will be the fairy princess and
+you will be my beauty prince, and--"
+
+Felix, who was holding up the heavy end of a piece of
+tapestry while the two men were clearing a place for it
+behind the chair, called out, "When's all this to
+happen, Tootcoms?"--one of his pet names; he had
+a dozen of them.
+
+"Next Saturday."
+
+"Why next Saturday?"
+
+"Because then I'm eleven years old, and you know
+that a great many fairy princesses are never any older."
+
+Down went the tapestry. "Your birthday! You
+blessed little angel! Eleven years old! My goodness,
+how time flies! Pretty soon you will be in long dresses,
+with your hair in a knot on the top of your head. You
+never told me a word about it!"
+
+"No, but I do now. And I am just going to have a
+party--a real party. And I am going to invite everybody,
+all the girls I know and all the boys and all the
+old people."
+
+Felix had her beside him now, her fresh young cheek
+against his. "You don't tell me! Well! I never heard
+anything like it! And what will your father say?"
+
+Her face fell. "Don't let's tell him! Let's have a
+surprise."
+
+Felix shook his head. "I am afraid we could never
+do that, unless we locked him up in the cellar and did
+not give him a thing to eat until everything was ready.
+Oh, just think how he would beg for mercy!"
+
+Masie rubbed her cheek up and down that of Felix
+in disapproval. "No, you wouldn't be so mean to poor
+Popsy."
+
+"Well, then, suppose--suppose--" and he held her
+teasingly from him to note the effect of his words--
+"suppose we make him go away--way off somewhere,
+to buy something--so far away that he could not come
+back until the next day. How would that do?"
+
+"No, that won't do--not a little bit! I've got a
+better plan. You go right down-stairs this minute and
+tell him it's all fixed, and that I'm going out this very
+afternoon to invite everybody myself."
+
+Felix made a wry fate. "Suppose he sends me about
+my business?"
+
+"He won't. He thinks you are the most WONDERFUL
+man in the world--he told Mr. Kelsey so; I heard him--
+and he won't refuse you anything--oh, Uncle Felix"--
+both arms were around his neck now, always her last
+argument--"I do so want a birthday party and I want
+it right here in this room."
+
+Felix smoothed back the hair from her pleading eyes
+and kissed her tenderly on the forehead. For a moment
+there was silence between them, he continuing to
+smooth back her hair, she cuddling the tighter, her usual
+way. She always let him think a while and it always
+came out right. But he had made up his mind. It had
+been years since a birthday of his own had been celebrated;
+nor had he ever helped, so far as he could
+recollect, to celebrate the birthday of any child.
+Yes, Masie should have her birthday, if he could
+bring it about, and it should be the happiest of
+all her life.
+
+Suddenly he rose, releasing his neck from her grasp,
+and ran his eyes around the almost bare interior--the
+big chair being the only article, so far, in place. "It will
+make a grand banquet hall, Masie," he said, as if speaking
+more to himself than to her. "Let me see!" He
+walked half the length of the floor and began studying
+the walls and the bare rafters of the ceiling. These last
+had once been yellow-washed, age and dust having
+turned the kalsomine to an old-gold tint, reminding him
+of a ceiling belonging to a Venetian palace.
+
+"Yes," he continued, with the same abstracted air,
+his head upturned, "there's a good place for hanging a
+big lamp, if there is one in the new lot, and there are
+spots where I can hang twenty or more smaller ones.
+I will cover the side walls with stuffs and embroideries
+and put those long Italian settees against--yes, Tweety-
+kins, it will come out all right. It will make a splendid
+banquet hall! And after the party we will leave it just
+so. Fine, my child! And I have an idea, too--a brilliant
+idea. Hans, ask Mr. Kling to be good enough to
+come up here!"
+
+With the surrender of her Uncle Felix, Masie resumed
+her spinning around the room and kept it up until the
+father's bald head showed clear above the top of the
+stairs.
+
+"Masie has had one brilliant idea, Mr. Kling, and
+I have another. I will tell you mine first." It was
+wonderful how thoroughly he understood the Dutchman.
+
+"Vell, vot is it?" Otto had sniffed something unusual
+in the atmosphere and was on the defensive.
+When there was only one to deal with he sometimes
+had his way; never when they were leagued together.
+
+"I propose," continued O'Day, "to turn this whole
+floor into the sort of a room one could live in--like
+many of the great halls I have seen abroad--and I
+think we have enough material to make a success of it,
+plenty of space in which to put everything where it
+belongs. Leave that big chair where I have placed it,
+throw some rugs on the floor, nail the stuffs and tapestries
+to the walls, fasten the brackets and sconces and
+appliques on top of them, filled with candles, and hang
+the lanterns and church lamps to the rafters. When I
+finish with it, you will have a room to which your
+customers will flock."
+
+Kling, bewildered, followed the play of O'Day's fingers
+in the air as if he were already placing the ornaments
+and hangings with which his mind was filled.
+
+"Vell, vot ve do vid de stuff dot's comin'--all dem
+sideboards and chairs and de pig tables? Ve ain't got
+de space."
+
+"Half of them will go here, and the balance we will
+pile away on the top floor. When these are sold then
+we'll bring down the others--always keeping up the
+character of the room. That is my idea. What do you
+think of it?"
+
+The shopkeeper hesitated, his fat features twisted
+in calculation. Every move of his new salesman had
+brought him in double his money. The placing of his
+goods so that a customer would be compelled to crawl
+over a table in order to see whether a chair had three
+whole legs or two, dust and darkness helping, had always
+seemed to him one of the tricks of the trade and
+not to be abandoned lightly.
+
+"You mean dot ve valk 'round loose in de middle,
+and everyting is shoved back de Vall behind, so you
+can see it all over?"
+
+Felix smothered a smile. "Certainly, why not?"
+
+"Vell, Mr. O'Day, I don't know." Then, noticing
+the quickly drawn brows of his clerk's face and the
+shadow of disappointment: "Of course, ve can try it,
+and if it don't vork ve do it over, don't ve?"
+
+Masie slipped her arm through O'Day's and began
+a joyous tattoo with her foot. She knew now that Felix
+had carried the day.
+
+"And now for Masie's idea, Mr. Kling."
+
+"Oh, dere is someting else, eh? I tought dere
+vould be ven you puts your two noddles togedder--
+Vell, vot is dot all about, eh?"
+
+"She is to have a birthday. She will be eleven years
+old next Saturday."
+
+"By Jeminy, yes, dot's so! I forgot dot, Masie.
+Yes, it comes on de tventy-fust. Vy you don't tell me
+before, little Beesvings?"
+
+"Yes, next Saturday; only four days off," continued
+Felix, forging ahead to avoid any side-tracking
+of his main theme. "And what are you going to do for
+her? Not many more of them before she will be out of
+the window like a bird, and off with somebody else."
+
+Otto ruminated. He loved his daughter, even if he
+did sometimes forget her very existence. "Oh, I don't
+know. I guess ve buy her sometings putty--vot you
+like to have, Beesvings? Or maybe you like to go to de
+teater vid Auntie Gossburger. I get de tickets."
+
+The child disengaged her hand from O'Day's arm,
+pushed back her hair and tiptoed to her father. "I
+want a party, Popsy--a real party," she whispered,
+tipping his chin back with her fingers, so he could look
+at her through his spectacles--not over them, like an
+ogre.
+
+"Vere you have it?" This came in a bewildered
+way, as if the pair had the big ballroom at Delmonico's
+in the back of their heads.
+
+"Here, in this very place," broke in Felix, "after I
+get it in order."
+
+Kling, gently freeing himself from Masie's hold,
+stared at his clerk. "Dot vill cost a lot of money, don't
+it?"
+
+"No, I do not think so."
+
+"Vell, who is coming? De childer all around?"
+
+"Everybody is coming--big, little, and middle-sized,"
+answered Felix. The cat was all out of the bag now.
+
+"Vell, dot's vot I said. You don't can get someting
+for nodding. You must have blenty to eat and
+drink."
+
+"No. Some simple refreshment will do--sandwiches,
+cake, and some ice-cream. I'll take care of that myself,
+if you'll permit me."
+
+"Vell, now stop a minute vunce--here is anudder
+idea. Suppose ve make it a Dutch treat--everybody
+bring sometings. Ve had vun last vinter at Budvick's,
+de upholsterer, ven he vas married tventy-five years. I
+give de apples--more as half a peck."
+
+Felix broke into a hearty, ringing laugh--one of the
+few either Masie or his employer had ever heard escape
+his lips.
+
+"We will let you off without even the apples this
+time," he said, when he recovered himself. "They
+are not coming to get something to eat this time. I will
+give them something better."
+
+"And you say everybody is comin'. Who is dot
+everybody?"
+
+"Just leave it all to me, Mr. Kling. And give yourself
+no concern. I am going to use everything we have:
+all our cups and saucers, no matter whether they are
+Spode, Lowestoft, or Worcester; all the platters, German
+beer mugs, candlesticks--even that rare old tablecloth
+trimmed with church lace. This is an entertainment
+to be given by a distinguished antiquary in honor
+of his lovely daughter"--and he bowed to each in
+turn--"the whole conducted under the management
+of his junior clerk, Mr. F. O'Day, who is very much at
+your service, sir."
+
+
+
+
+Chapter VIII
+
+
+
+Bright and early the following morning Felix began
+work, and for the next two days took entire charge of
+the room, walking up and down its length, an absolute
+dictator, brooking no interference from any one.
+When Mike's frowsy head or Hans's grimy hands
+appeared above the level of the landing from the floor
+below, steadying with their chins some new possession,
+it was either, "here, in the middle of the room, men!"
+or, if it were big and cumbersome, "up-stairs, out of
+the way!" This had gone on until the banquet hall
+was one conglomerate mass of mixed chattels from the
+Jersey shop, Kling's old stock being stowed in some
+other part of the building. Then began the picking
+out. First the doubtful, but rich in color, tapestries,
+then the rugs--some fairly good ones--stuffs, old and
+new, and every available rag which would hold together
+were spread over the four walls and the front windows.
+The heavier and more decorative pieces of furniture
+came next--among them a huge wooden altar which
+had never been put together and which was now backed
+close against the tapestries and hanging rugs in the
+centre of the long wall. Two Venetian wedding-chests,
+low enough to sit upon, were next placed in position,
+and between them three Spanish armchairs in faded
+velvet and one in crinkly leather, held together by
+big Moorish nails of brass. Above these chests and
+chairs were hung gilt brackets holding church candles,
+Spanish mirrors so placed that the shortest woman in
+the party could see her face, and big Italian disks of
+dull metal. The walls were wonderful in their rich
+simplicity, and so was the disposition of the furniture,
+Felix's skilful eye having preserved the architectural
+proportions in both the selection and placing of the
+several articles.
+
+More wonderful than all else, however, was the great
+gold throne at the end of the room, on which Masie was
+to sit and receive her guests and which was none other
+than the big cardinal's chair, incrusted with mouldy
+gilt, that had first inspired her with the idea of the
+party. This was hoisted up bodily and placed on an
+auctioneer's platform which Mike had found tilted
+back against the wall in the cellar. To hide its dirt
+and cracks, rugs were laid, pieced out by a green drugget
+which extended half across the floor, now swept of
+everything except two refreshment tables.
+
+Next came the ceiling. What Felix did to that ceiling,
+or rather what that ceiling did for Felix, and how
+it looked when he was through with it is to this very
+day a topic of discussion among the now scattered
+inhabitants of "The Avenue." Masie knew, and so
+did deaf Auntie Gossburger, who often spent the day
+with the child. She, with Masie, had been put in
+charge of the china and glass department, and when
+the old woman had pulled up from the depths of a
+barrel first one red cup without a handle and then a
+dozen or more, and had asked what they were for,
+Felix had seized them with a cry of joy: "Oil cups!
+They fit on the tops of these church lamps. I never
+expected to find these! Mike! Go over to Mr. Pestler's
+and tell him to send me a small box of floating
+night-tapers--the smallest he has. Now, Tootcums,
+you wait and see!"
+
+And then the step-ladder was moved up, and Mike
+and one of the Dutchies passed up the lamps to Felix,
+who drove the hooks into the rafters--twenty-two of
+them--and then slid down to the floor, taking in the
+general effect, only to clamber up again to lengthen
+this chain, or shorten that, so that the whole ceiling,
+when the cups were filled and the tapers lighted, would
+be a blaze of red stars hung in a firmament of dull,
+yellow-washed gold.
+
+The final touch came last. This was both a surprise
+and a discovery. Hans had found it flattened out on
+the top of a big, circular table, and was about to tear
+it loose when Felix, who let nothing escape his vigilant
+eye, seized its metal handle, whereupon the mass
+sagged, tilted, straightened, and then rounded out into
+a superb Chinese lantern of yellow silk, decorated
+with black dragons, with only one tear in its entire
+circumference, and that one Auntie Gossburger darned
+so skilfully that nobody noticed the hole. This, Felix,
+after much consideration, swung to the rafter immediately
+over the throne, so that its mellow light
+should fall directly on the child's face.
+
+Kling, while these preparations were in progress,
+was in a state of mind bordering on the pathetic. Felix
+had made him promise not to come up until the room
+was finished, but every few hours his head would be
+thrust up over the edge of the stairs, his eyes screwed
+up in his fat face, an expression of wonder, not unmixed
+with anxiety, flitting across his countenance. Then he
+would back down-stairs, muttering to himself all the
+time; his chief cause of complaint being the hiding of
+so many things his customers might want to buy and
+the displaying of so many others at which they might
+only want to look!
+
+There was, however, even after the decorations
+seemed complete, a bare corner to be filled with something
+neither too big, nor too small, nor too insistent in
+color or form. Felix went twice over the stock, old and
+new, twisted and turned, and was about to give up
+when he suddenly called to Masie, his face lighting
+under the glow of a fresh inspiration:
+
+"I have it now! Come, Tootcums, with me! Mr.
+Sanderson will help us out." All of which came true;
+for Mr. Sanderson, ten minutes later, had bent his head
+close to the child's lips to hear the better, and had said:
+"Only two? Why, Masie, you can have the lot." And
+that was how the bare corner was filled with three great
+palms--the biggest he had in his shop--and the grand
+salon of the Grande Duchesse Masie Beeswings de
+Kling at last made ready for her guests.
+
+This done, Felix made a final inspection of the room,
+adding a touch here and there--shifting a piece of
+pottery or redraping the frayed end of a square of tapestry
+--and finding that everything kept its place in the
+general effect, without a single discordant note, drew
+Masie to a seat beside him on one of the old Venetian
+chests. Here, with his arms about the enthusiastic
+child, he laid bare the next and to him the most important
+number on the programme.
+
+And in this he wrought another upheaval, one almost
+as great as had taken place in the room. The
+time-honored custom of all birthday parties entailing
+upon the invited the giving of presents as proof of
+affection, was not, he hinted gently, to be observed
+upon this occasion. "It is Masie who is to give the
+presents," he whispered, holding her closer, "and
+not her guests."
+
+The child at first had protested. The long procession
+of guests coming up to hand her their gifts, and
+her fun next day when looking them over--knowing
+how queer some of them would be--had been part of
+her joyful anticipation, but Felix would not yield.
+
+"You see, Masie, darling," he coaxed, "now that you
+are going to be a real princess," he was smoothing
+back her curls as he spoke, "you are going to be so
+high up in the world that nobody will dare to give
+you any presents. That is the way with all princesses.
+Kings and queens are never given presents
+on their birthdays unless their permission is asked, but,
+just because they ARE kings and queens, they give presents
+to everybody else. And then again, Masie, dear,
+if you stop to think about it, people really get a great
+deal more fun out of giving things than they do of
+having things given to them."
+
+She succumbed, as she always did, when her "Uncle
+Felix," with his voice lowered to a whisper, his lips held
+close to her ear, either counselled or chided her, and a
+new joy thrilled through her as he explained how his
+plan was to be carried out.
+
+Kling lifted up his hands in protest when he heard
+of O'Day's innovation, but was overruled and bowled
+over before he had framed his first sentence. It was
+the sentiment, Felix insisted, which was to be considered,
+the good feeling behind the gift, not the cost
+of it. He and Masie had worked it all out together,
+and please not to interfere.
+
+But Kling did interfere, and right royally, too, when
+he found time to think it over. Some one of the old
+German legends must have worked its way through
+the dull crust of his brain, bringing back memories of
+his childhood. Perhaps his conscience was pricked by
+his clerk's attitude. Whatever the cause, certain it is
+that he crept up-stairs a few hours before his house
+was to be thrown open to Masie's guests, and, finding
+the banquet hall completely finished and nobody about,
+Felix and Masie having gone out together to perfect
+some little detail connected with the gifts, walked
+around in an aimless way, overwhelmed by the beauty
+and charm of the interior as it lay before him in the
+afternoon light.
+
+On his way down he met the deaf Gossburger coming
+up.
+
+"Dot is awful nice!" he shouted. "I couldn't believe
+dot was possible! Dot is a vunderful--VUNderful
+man! I don't see how dem rags and dot stuff look
+like dot ven you get 'em togedder anodder vay. And
+now dere is vun thing I don't got in my head yet: Vot
+is it about dese presents?"
+
+The old woman recounted the details as best she
+could.
+
+"And dot is all, is it, Auntie Gossburger? Only
+of pasteboard boxes vid candies in 'em, and little pieces
+paper vid writings on 'em dot Mr. O'Day makes? Is
+dot vot you mean?"
+
+The old woman nodded.
+
+Kling turned suddenly, went down-stairs with his
+head up and shoulders back, called Hans to keep shop,
+and put on his hat.
+
+When he returned an hour later, he was followed
+by a man carrying a big box. This was placed behind
+Masie's throne and so concealed by a rug that even
+Felix missed seeing it.
+
+
+That everybody had accepted--everybody who had
+been invited--"big, little, and middle-sized"--goes
+without saying. Masie had called at each house herself,
+with Felix as cavalier--just as he had promised her.
+And they had each and every one, immediately abandoned
+all other plans for that particular night, promising
+to be there as early as could be arranged, it being
+a Saturday and the shops on "The Avenue" open an
+hour later than usual--an indulgence counterbalanced
+by the fact that next day was Sunday and they could
+all sleep as long as they pleased.
+
+And not only the neighbors, but Nat Ganger and
+Sam Dogger accepted. Felix had gone down himself
+with Masie's message, and they both had said they
+would come--Sam to be on hand half an hour before
+the appointed hour of nine so as to serve as High Lord
+of the Robes, Masie having determined that nobody
+but "dear old Mr. Dogger" should show her how to
+put on the costume he had given her.
+
+As for these two castaways, when they did enter
+the gorgeous room on the eventful night they fairly
+bubbled over.
+
+"Don't let old Kling touch it," Ganger roared out
+as soon as he stepped inside, before he had even said
+"How do you do?" to anybody. "Keep it as an exhibit.
+Better still, send circulars up and down Fifth
+Avenue, and open it up as a school--not one of 'em
+knows how to furnish their houses. How the devil did
+you-- Oh, I see! Just plain yellow-wash and the reflected
+red light. Looks like a stained-glass window in
+a measly old church. Where's Sam. Oh, behind that
+screen. Well come out here and look at that ceiling!"
+
+Sam didn't come out, and didn't intend to. He
+was busy with the child's curls, which were bunched
+up in the fingers of one hand, while the other was pressing
+the wide leghorn hat into the precise angle which
+would become her most, the Gossburger standing by
+with the rest of the costume, Masie's face a sunburst
+of happiness.
+
+"And now the long skirt, Mrs. Bombagger, or whatever
+your name is. That's it, over her head first and
+then down along the floor so she will look as if she was
+grown up. And now the big ostrich-plume fan--a
+little seedy, my dear, and yellow as a kite's foot, but
+nobody'll see it under that big, yellow lantern. Now
+let me look at you! Nat, NAT! where are you, you
+beggar, stop rummaging around that dead stuff and
+come behind here and look at this live child! yes,
+right in here. Now look! Did you ever in all your
+born days see anything half so pretty?" the outburst
+ending with, "Scat, you little devil of a dog!"
+when Fudge gave a howl at being stepped upon.
+
+Masie, as she listened, plumed her head as a pigeon
+would preen its feathers, stood up to see her train sweep
+the floor, sat down again to watch the stained satin
+folds crumple themselves about her feet, and was at
+last so overcome by it all that she threw her arms
+around Sam, to his intense delight, and kissed him
+twice, and would have given Nat an equal number
+had not Felix called to him that the guests were beginning
+to arrive.
+
+As to these guests, you could not have gotten their
+names on one side of Kitty's order-book, nor on both
+sides, for that matter. There was brisk, bustling
+Bundleton the grocer in a green necktie, white waistcoat,
+and checked trousers, arm and arm with his thin
+wife in black silk and mitts; there was Heffern the dairyman
+in funeral black, relieved by a brown tie, and his
+daughter, in variegated muslin, accompanied by two
+young men whom neither Kling nor Felix nor the Gossburger
+had ever heard of or seen before, but who were
+heartily welcomed; there were fat Porterfield the
+butcher in his every-day clothes, minus his apron, with
+his two girls, aged ten and fourteen, their hair in pigtails
+tied with blue ribbons; there were Mr. and Mrs.
+Codman, all in their best "Sunday-go-to-meetings,"
+with their little daughter Polly, named after the
+mother, pretty as a picture and a great friend of
+Masie--most distinguished people were the Codmans,
+he looking like an alderman and his wife the personification
+of good humor, her rosy cheeks matching the
+tint of her husband's necktie.
+
+There was Digwell the undertaker in his professional
+clothes, enlivened by a white waistcoat and red scarf,
+quite beside himself with joy because nobody had died or
+was likely to die so far as he had heard, thus permitting
+him to "send dull care to the winds!"--his own way of
+putting it. There was Pestler the druggist in an up-to-date
+dress suit as good as anybody's--almost as good
+as the one Felix wore, and from which, for the first time
+since he landed, he had shaken the creases. There was
+Tim Kelsey, in the suit of clothes he wore every day,
+the only difference being the high collar instead of the
+turned-down one, the change giving him the appearance
+of a man with a bandaged neck, so narrow were his poor
+shoulders and so big was the fine head overtopping it.
+There were Mike and Bobby and the two Dutchies
+and Sanderson, who came with his hands full of roses
+for Masie, and a score of others whose names the scribe
+forgets, besides lots and lots of children of all sizes and
+ages.
+
+And there were Kitty and John--and they were both
+magnificent--at least Kitty was--she being altogether
+resplendent in black alpaca finished off by a fichu of
+white lace, her big, full-bosomed, robust body filling it
+without a crease; and he in a new suit bought for the
+occasion, and which fitted him everywhere except
+around the waist--a defect which Kitty had made good
+by means of a well-concealed safety-pin in the back.
+
+It was for Kitty that Felix had been on the lookout
+ever since the guests began to arrive, and no sooner did
+her rosy, beaming face appear behind that of her husband,
+than he pushed his way through the throng to
+reach her side. "No, not out here, Mistress Kitty,"
+he cried. Had she been of royal blood he could not
+have treated her with more distinction. "You are to
+stand alongside of Masie when she comes in; the child
+has no mother, and you must look after her."
+
+"No mother! Mr. O'Day! God rest your soul, she
+won't need to do without one long, she's that lovely.
+There'll be plenty will want to mother, and brother her,
+too, for that matter. My goodness, what a place ye
+made of it! Look at them lamps, all fireworks up
+there, and that big chair! I wonder who robbed a
+church to get it! Well--well---WELL! John! did ye
+ever see the like? Otto, ye ought to rent this place
+out for a chowder-party ball. Well, well, I NEVER!"
+
+The comments of some of the others, while they
+voiced their complete surprise, were less enthusiastic.
+Bundleton, after shaking hands with Felix and Kitty,
+and then with Kling, dropped his wife and made a
+tour of the room without uttering a sound of any kind
+until he reached Felix again, when he remarked gravely:
+"I should think it would worry you some to keep
+the moths out of this stuff," and then passed on to
+tell Kling he must look out "them lamps didn't spill
+and set things on fire."
+
+Porterfield, as was to be expected, was distinctly
+practical. "Awful lot of truck when you get it all
+together, ain't it, Mr. O'Day? I was just tellin' my
+wife that them two chairs up t'other side of the room
+wouldn't last long in my parlor, they're that wabbly.
+But maybe these Fifth Avenue folks don't do no
+sittin'--just keep 'em in a glass case to look at."
+
+Pestler was more discerning. He had come across
+an iridescent glass jar, and was edging around for an
+opportunity to ask Kling the price without letting
+Felix overhear him--it being an occasion, he knew, in
+which Mr. O'Day would feel offended if business were
+mentioned. "Might do to put in my window, if it
+didn't cost too much," he had begun, and as suddenly
+stopped as he caught Felix's eyes fastened upon him.
+
+There were others, however, whose delight could
+not be repressed. Tim Kelsey, after the proper
+greetings were over, had wandered off down the room,
+stopping to examine each article in its place on the walls.
+Finally some pieces of old Delft caught his eye. He
+made a memorandum of two in a little book he took
+from his inside pocket, and later on, when a break
+in the surrounding conversation made it possible, remarked
+to Felix: "They seem to get everything in the
+new Delft but the old delicious glaze. On a wall it
+doesn't matter, but you don't feel like putting real old
+Delft on a wall. I like to stroke it, as I would a friend's
+hand."
+
+These inspections and comments over, and that peculiar
+timidity which comes over certain classes lifted
+out of their customary environment and doing their
+best to become accustomed to new surroundings having
+begun to wear away under the tactful welcome of
+Felix, and the hour having arrived for the grand ceremony
+of gift-giving, the throne was pushed back,
+Masie called from behind her screen, and O'Day's
+wicker basket filled with the presents was laid by the
+side of the big chair.
+
+Kling and Kitty were now beckoned to and placed
+on the left of the throne, Felix taking up his position
+on the right.
+
+The stir on the platform caused by these arrangements
+soon attracted everybody's attention and a sudden
+hush fell upon the room. What was about to
+happen nobody knew, but something important, or
+Mr. O'Day would not have stepped to its edge, nor
+would Otto have been so red in the face, nor Kitty so
+radiant.
+
+Felix raised his hand to command supreme silence.
+
+"Masie wishes me," he began in his low, even voice,
+"to tell you that she has done her best to remember
+every one, and that she hopes nobody has been forgotten.
+These little trifles she is about to give you are
+not gifts, but just little mementos to express her thanks
+for your kindness in coming to her first party. She bids
+me tell you, too, that her love goes out to every one of
+you on this the happiest night of her life and that she
+welcomes you all with her whole heart."
+
+He turned, stepped back a pace, made the radiant
+child a low bow, held out his hand, and led her into full
+view of the audience, the rays of the big lantern softening
+the tones of the quaint, picturesque costume which
+concealed her slight figure, transforming the child of
+eleven into the woman of eighteen.
+
+For at least ten seconds, and that is a long period of
+time when your heart is in your mouth and you are
+ready to explode with uncontrollable delight, not a
+sound of any kind broke the silence, no handclap of
+welcome, no murmur of applause; just plain, simple
+astonishment, the kind that takes your breath away.
+That Kling's little girl stood before them, nobody believed.
+O'Day had fooled them with this new vision,
+just as he had bewitched them by the glamour of the
+decorated room. Only when a few simple words of welcome
+fell from her lips were the flood-gates opened.
+Then a shout went up which set the candles winking--
+a shout only surpassed in volume and good cheer when
+Felix began handing up the little packages from Masie's
+basket. And dainty little packages they were, filled
+with all sorts of inexpensive souvenirs that she and
+Felix (not much money between the two of them) had
+picked up at Baxter's Toy Shop on Third Avenue, all
+suggested by some peculiarity of the recipient, all kindly
+and good-natured, and each one enlivened by a quotation
+or some original line in Felix's own handwriting.
+
+During the whole delightful ceremony Otto had
+stood on the left of his daughter, his heart thumping
+away, his face growing redder every minute, his eyes
+intent on each guest elbowing a way through the crowd
+as Masie handed them their gifts, noting the general
+happiness and the laughter that followed the reading
+of the lines, wondering all the time why no one
+was offended at the size and, to him, worthlessness
+of the several offerings.
+
+When it was all over and the basket empty, he
+jumped down from the platform, his fat back bent in
+excitement, tossed aside the rug, lifted the big box,
+placed it beside the gilt throne, and raised his puffy
+hands to command attention: "Now listen, everybody!
+I got someting to say. Beesvings don't have all dis to
+herselluf. Now it is my turn. Come up closer so I get
+hold of you. Vait, and I git back on de platform.
+Here, you olt frent of mine, Dan Porterfield, here is a
+new butcher-knife sharpener for you, to sharpen your
+knives on ven you cuts dem bifsteaks. And, Heffern,
+come close; here is a silver-plated skimmer for dot
+cream you make, and a pig fan for your daughter. And
+Polly Codman--git out of de way dere, and let Polly
+Codman come up!--here, Polly, is a pair of gloves for
+you and a muffler for Codman, and here is more gloves
+and neckties and--I got a lot more; I didn't got much
+time and I bought dem all in a hurry--and dey are all
+from me and Masie and don't you forgit dot. I ain't
+never been so happy as I am to-night, and you vas
+awful good to come and see my little girl dot don't got
+no mudder. And you must all tank Mr. O'Day for de
+great help he vas. Now dot's all I got to say."
+
+He drew his hand across his eyes, made an awkward
+bow, and sat down. Everybody gasped in amazement.
+Many of them had known him for years, ever since he
+moved into "The Avenue"--twenty years, at least--
+but nobody had ever seen him as he was to-night.
+That he had in his intended generosity overlooked half
+of his friends made no difference. Those who received
+something showed it for weeks afterward to everybody
+who came. Those who had nothing forgave him in
+their delight over the good-will he had shown to the
+others. Even Felix, who had been watching him soften
+and thaw out under the warmth of the child's happiness,
+and who thought he knew the man and his nature, was
+astounded, and showed it by grasping for the first time
+his employer's hand, looking him in the eyes as he said,
+"I owe you an apology, sir," a proceeding Otto often
+pondered over, its meaning wholly escaping him.
+
+But the great surprise of the evening, in which even
+Felix had had no share, was yet to come. He had
+carried out his promise to provide the simple refreshments,
+and a table had been set apart for their serving.
+The sandwiches made at the bakeshop a block below
+had already arrived and been put in place, and he was
+about to announce supper, when he became aware that
+a mysterious conference was being held near the top of
+the stairs, in which Kitty, Polly Codman, and Heffern's
+daughter Mary, were taking part. He had already
+noticed, with some discomfiture, the absence of a number
+of male guests, half of them having left the room
+without presenting themselves before Masie to bid her
+good night, and was about to ask Kitty for an explanation,
+when a series of thumping sounds reached
+his ear; something heavy was being rolled along the
+floor beneath his feet. As the noise increased, Kitty
+and her beaming coconspirators craned their necks over
+the banisters and a welcoming roar went up. Bundleton's
+head now came into view, a wreath of smilax
+wound loosely around his neck, followed by one of his
+men carrying a keg of beer; another shouldering a sawhorse,
+a wooden mallet, and a wooden spigot; and
+still a third with a basket of stone mugs.
+
+"Come, folks and neighbors, everybody have a glass
+of beer with me!" shouted Bundleton.
+
+Up went the sawhorse before you would wink your
+eye! Down went the keg across its arms, the smilax
+around it! Bang went the bung! In went the wooden
+spigot! And out flew the white froth!
+
+Another roar now went up, accompanied by great
+clapping of hands. It was Codman's head this time,
+a cook's cap resting on his ears, his hands bearing a
+great dish athwart which lay a cold salmon that the
+baker had cooked for him that morning. Close behind
+came Pestler with a tray filled with boxes of
+candy, and next Sanderson with a flattish basket piled
+high with carnations, each one tied as a boutonniere;
+and Porterfield with a bunch of bananas; and so on
+and so on--each arrival being received with fresh roars
+and shouts of welcoming approval. Last of all came
+Kitty, her face one great, pervading, all-embracing
+laugh, her own big coffee-pot filled to the brim and
+smoking hot on a waiter, her boy Bobby following,
+loaded down with cups and saucers.
+
+Supper over--and it was a mighty feast, with everybody
+waiting on everybody else, Kitty busiest of all,
+filling each cup herself--Digwell the undertaker, who
+had really been the life of the party, remarked in a
+voice loud enough to be heard half-way across the
+room that it was a pity there was no piano, as a party
+could not be a real party without a dance. At this
+Kling, who was having a mug with Codman, rose from
+his seat, stepped to the top of the stairs and, looking
+over the crowd, called for four strong men, "right
+avay, k'vick!" Codman, Pestler, Mike, and Digwell
+responded, and before anybody knew where they had
+gone, or what it was all about, up came an old-fashioned
+spinet, which Kling remembered had been hidden
+behind a Martha Washington bedstead on the floor
+below.
+
+"All together, men!" shouted Codman, and it was
+picked up bodily, whirled into position, dusted off in a
+jiffy, and ready for use.
+
+At this Pestler sprang to his feet, shouted he was
+coming back in a minute, rushed to the stairway, went
+down three steps at a time, bolted through the front
+door, across the street, up into his bedroom, and back
+again, all in one breath, waving his violin triumphantly
+over his head as he entered.
+
+And then it was that the real fun began. And then
+it was that virtue had its own reward, for not a living
+soul in the room could play a note on the spinet except
+the tallest and spookiest and, to all appearances, the
+stupidest of the two young men, whom the Heffern
+girl had brought and who turned out to have once
+been the star pianist in some dance-hall on the Bowery.
+And the scribe remarks, parenthetically and in all seriousness,
+that the way that lank, pin-headed young
+man revived the soul of that old, worn-out harpischord,
+digging into its ribs, kicking at its knees with both
+feet, hand-massaging every one of the keys up, down,
+and crossways, until the ancient fossil fairly rattled
+itself loose with the joy of being alive once more, was
+altogether the most astounding miracle he has ever
+had to record. And Pestler with his violin was not
+far behind.
+
+Everything had now broken loose.
+
+At the first note, up jumped Kitty, caught John
+around the neck, and went whirling around the room.
+At the second note, up jumped Codman, made a dive
+for Polly, missed her in the mix-up and, grabbing Mrs.
+Digwell instead, went sailing down the room as if he
+had done nothing else all his life. At the third note,
+away went Sanderson and Bundleton, Heffern, everybody
+but the two castaways and Tim Kelsey, who beat
+juba on their knees, old Sam Dogger playing a tattoo
+all by himself with two knife-handles and a plate. Some
+danced with their own wives; some with anybody's
+wife or daughter or child--a grand hullabaloo, down
+the middle, across, back, and up again, until everybody
+was exhausted and fell in a heap into Felix's Spanish
+chairs, or on his Venetian wedding-chests, or wherever
+else they could find resting-places in which to catch
+their breaths.
+
+And now comes the crowning touch of all--the last
+of the evening's surprises, and one remembered the
+longest because of its simplicity and its beauty!
+
+When everybody was resting, out stepped Felix, the
+light of the overhead candles falling on his pale, thoughtful
+face, white shirt-front, and faultless suit of black
+which fitted his well-knit, handsome frame like a glove,
+and with him the Grande Duchesse Masie de Kling, the
+child bowing and smiling as she passed, the wide leghorn
+hat shading her face from the light of the lanterns above,
+her long train caught, woman-fashion, over her arm.
+Then, with a low word to the pin-headed young man,
+followed by a downward wave of his palm to denote
+the time, and the child's fingers firm in his own, Felix
+led her through an old-fashioned, stately minuet, telling
+her in an undertone just what steps to take.
+
+
+It was Sunday morning before the merry party broke
+up and streamed out through Kling's lower shop, and so
+on into the street. Everybody had had the time of their
+lives. Such remarks as "Would ye have believed it
+of Otto?" or, "Wasn't Masie the sweetest thing ye ever
+saw?" or, "Just think of Mr. O'Day fixing up that old
+junk room the way he did--ye can't beat him nowheres!"
+or, "Oh, I tell ye, Otto struck it rich when
+he took him on!", were heard on all sides.
+
+So loud were the laughter and chatter, the good
+nights and good-bys, that big Tom McGinniss moved
+over from the opposite curb.
+
+"Halloo, John!" cried the policeman. "I thought I
+couldn't be mistaken. And Kitty, that you with your
+coffee-pot? I just come up from Lexington Avenue and
+heard the row, wondering what was up. Is it up-stairs
+ye were? WHAT! Dutchy givin' a ball? Oh, ye can't
+mean it! No, thank ye, Kitty, it will be too late for ye
+all--I'll drop in to-morrow night. Well, take care of
+yourselves," and he disappeared in the darkness.
+
+Felix watched the throng disperse, bade Kitty and
+John good night, and, turning sharply, directed his
+steps toward Madison Square. Here he sank upon a
+bench, away from the glare of an overhead lamp. For
+some minutes he sat without moving, his mind wholly
+absorbed with the events of the preceding hours. The
+roar and crush of the room came back to him. He
+caught again the light in Masie's eyes as she followed
+his lead in the dance and the mob of happy faces
+crowding to her side, and then with a shudder he confronted
+the gaunt sorrow that had hourly dogged his
+steps. An overpowering sense of depression now took
+possession of him. Pushing back his hat as if to give
+himself more air, he was about to resume his walk
+when he became conscious that something had stirred
+at the far end of the seat.
+
+Straightening his broad shoulders, his quick, alert
+manner returning, he moved nearer, his eyes searching
+the gloom. A newsboy, a little chap of seven or eight,
+his papers under him, lay fast asleep.
+
+For an instant he watched the rise and fall of the
+boy's breath, adjusted the short, patched coat about
+the little fellow's knees, and then slid back to his end
+of the bench.
+
+"Same old grind," he said to himself, "no home--
+no money--cold--maybe hungry. Never too young
+to suffer--never too old to eat your heart out. What
+a damnable world it is!"
+
+Rising to his feet, he felt in his pocket for a coin,
+widened the pocket of the waif's jacket, and slipped it
+in. The boy stirred, tightened his grasp on his papers,
+and lay still.
+
+Felix looked down at him for a moment, turned,
+and with lightened steps continued his walk.
+
+"Well, thank God," he said as he neared "The
+Avenue," "Masie was happy one night in her life."
+
+
+
+
+Chapter IX
+
+
+
+That the memories of Masie's birthday party should
+have been revived again and again, and that the several
+incidents should have been discussed for days thereafter
+--every eye growing the brighter in the telling--
+was to have been expected. Kitty could talk of nothing
+else. The beauty of the room; the charm of
+Masie's costume; Kling's generosity; and last, O'Day's
+bearing and appearance as he led the child through the
+stately dance, looking, as Kitty expressed it, "that fine
+and handsome you would have thought he was a lord
+mayor," were now her daily topics of conversation.
+
+Masie was equally enthusiastic, rushing down-stairs
+the next morning to throw her arms around his neck
+with an "Oh, Uncle Felix, I never, NEVER, NEVER was
+so happy in all my life!"
+
+Kling was still more jubilant. The success of Masie's
+banquet room had established him at once among
+bric-a-brac dealers as a competitor quite out of the
+ordinary. His old customers came in flocks, walking
+about with gasps of astonishment. Before the week
+was out, a masonic lodge had bought the throne, a
+seaside resort the big Chinese lantern, and two of the
+four Spanish chairs had found a home in a millionaire's
+library.
+
+Moreover--and this was all the more remarkable in
+view of his early training--a certain deference became
+apparent in the Dutchman's manner not only toward
+Felix but toward his customers. He no longer received
+them in his shirt-sleeves. He bought some new clothes
+and sported a collar, necktie, and hat, duplicating those
+worn by Felix as near as his memory served.
+
+Still more remarkable were the changes wrought
+among the neighbors in their attitude toward O'Day.
+Until then they had, in their independent fashion,
+treated him like any of the other men who came in
+and out their several stores, pleased with his interest
+in the business, but quickly forgetting him as they became
+reabsorbed in the affairs of the day. Now, as
+they told him what a good time they had had on the
+birthday, they raised their hats. Porterfield went so
+far as to tell the radiant Kitty that her boarder was a
+"Jim Dandy," and that if she should lay her hands
+on another to "trot him out."
+
+Kitty of course had expected these triumphs, but
+that it was she who had made them possible, and
+that but for her own individual efforts Felix might
+still be wandering around the streets in search of bed
+and board, apparently never crossed her mind. He
+would have been just as splendid, she said to herself,
+and just as much of a man no matter who had helped
+and no matter where his feet had landed.
+
+If O'Day were aware of the changes of public opinion
+going on around him, there was nothing in either
+his manner or in his speech to show it. When they
+complimented him on the way in which he had utilized
+Otto's old stock, producing so wonderful an interior,
+he would remark quietly that it was nothing to his
+credit. He had always loved such things; that it
+came natural to some people to put things to rights,
+and that any one could have done as much. It was
+only when some one alluded to Masie that his face
+would light up. "Yes, charming, was she not? Such
+a wonderful little lady, and so good!"
+
+That which did please him--please him immensely--
+was the outcome of a visit made some days after the
+party by old Nat Ganger.
+
+"Regular Aladdin lamp," Nat shouted, slamming
+Kling's door behind him. "One rub, bang goes the
+rubbish, and up comes an Oriental palace. Another
+rub and little devils swarm over the walls and ceilings
+and begin hanging up stuffs and lamps. Another rub,
+and before you can wink your eye, out steps a little
+princess, a million times prettier than any Cinderella
+that ever lived. Wonderful! WONDERFUL!
+
+"Where is the darling child anyway. Can't I see her?
+I got away from Sam, telling him I was going to look
+up another frame for one of my pictures. Here it is.
+All a lie, every bit of it. It's Sam's picture. Not
+mine. I wrapped it up so he wouldn't know, but I
+came to see that darling child all the same, for I've got
+a surprise for her. But first I want you to see this
+picture. Here, wait until I untie this string. It's one
+of Sam's Hudson Rivery things. Palisades and a
+steamboat in the foreground, and an afternoon sky.
+Easy dodge, don't you see? Yellow sky and purple
+hill, and short streak for the steamboat and its wake,
+and a smear of white steam straggling behind. Sam
+does 'em as well as anybody. Sometimes he puts in
+a pile or two in the foreground for a broken dock and
+a rowboat with a lone fisherman squatting on the hind
+seat. Then he asks five dollars more. Always get
+more you know for figures in a landscape."
+
+He had unwrapped the canvas by this time, and
+was holding it to the light of the window that Felix
+might see it better.
+
+Felix studied it carefully, even to the cramped signature
+in the corner, "Samuel Dogger, A. N. A."; and
+with an appreciative smile said: "Very good, I should
+say. Yes, very good."
+
+"Good! It's really very bad, and you know it. So
+do I. But you're too much of a gentleman to say so.
+Can't be worse, really, but 'puttying up' is down by the
+heels, and there hasn't been an old master from Flushing,
+Long Island, or Weehawken, New Jersey, lugged
+up our stairs for a month;--two months, really. We
+had one last week from a dealer down-town which
+turned out to be genuine after Sam had looked it over.
+And, of course, Sam wouldn't touch it and sent for the
+auctioneer and told him so. And the beggar made
+Sam hunt for the signature and Sam found it at the
+top of the canvas instead of at the bottom. One of the
+early Dutchmen Sam said it was. Some kind of a
+Beck or a Koven. And would you believe it, the very
+next day the fellow got a whacking price for it from a
+collector up in one of the side streets near the Park. So
+Sam has gone back to the early American school. This
+means that he's getting down to his last five-dollar bill,
+and I want to tell you that I'm not far from it myself.
+I'd have been dead broke if I hadn't sold two Fatimas.
+One in pink pants and the other a flying angel in
+summer clothes to fit an alcove in an up-town barroom
+over the cigar-stand.
+
+"But my money isn't Sam's money," he went on
+without pausing, "and Sam won't touch a penny of it.
+Never does unless I fool him on the sly. And I've
+come up here to fool him now, and fool him bad. I
+want you to hold on to this bust--wait until I get it
+out of my pocket." Here he pulled out a small bronze,
+a head of Augustus, beautifully wrought.
+
+"If you buy the picture, I'll throw in the ancient
+Roman," and he laid it on the counter.
+
+"And I want you to write Sam a note, asking him if
+he can't look around for one of his masterpieces, something
+say ten by fourteen; wanted for a customer who
+only buys good things. That any little landscape
+with water in it will do. Remember, don't leave out
+the water. Then Sam will come thumping down-stairs
+with the note, and I'll be awfully astonished and we'll
+talk it over, and I'll pull this out from under a pile
+of stuff where I'll hide it as soon as I get home. Then
+I'll say: 'Well, I'm going up-town and have Mr. O'Day
+look at it, and maybe it will suit him, and that if it
+does, I'll make him pay fifty dollars for it.' How do
+you think that will work?"
+
+Felix, who had been looking into the old fellow's eyes,
+reading his mind in their depths, seeing clear down into
+the heart beneath, now picked up the bronze and
+began passing his hand over it.
+
+"Very lovely," he said at last, "and a marvellous
+paten. Where did you get it?"
+
+"Spoken like a gentleman and a man of honor, and
+this time you tell the truth. It's just what you say
+--marvellous. I swapped a twenty by thirty for it.
+Will you take it?"
+
+Felix shook his head, a smile playing about his lips.
+
+"I would if I wanted to be unfair. Here, take your
+bronze and leave the picture. I will find a frame for
+it, and have one of the men give it a coat of varnish."
+
+"And you'll write the note?"
+
+"Is that necessary?"
+
+"Of COURSE, it's necessary. You don't know Sam.
+He's as cunning as a weasel and can get away before
+you know it. Got to fool him. I always do. Told
+him more lies in one minute this morning than a horse
+can trot. Will you write the note?"
+
+Felix laughed. "Yes, just as soon as you go."
+
+"And you won't hold on to the bronze?"
+
+"No, I won't hold on to the bronze."
+
+"And you can get fifty dollars for this unexampled
+work of art? That, of course, is the ASKING price. Ten
+would do a whole lot of good."
+
+"I cannot say positively, but I will try."
+
+"All right. And now where's that darling child?"
+
+A laugh rang out from the top of the stairs, the laugh
+of a child overjoyed at meeting some one she loves,
+followed by "do you mean me?"
+
+"Of course, I mean you, Toddlekins. Come down
+here and let me give you a big hug. And I've got a
+message for you from that dried-up old fellow with
+the shaggy head. He sent you his love--every bit of
+it, he said. And he's found some more gewgaws he's
+going to bring up some day. Told me that, too."
+
+Masie had reached the floor and was running toward
+him with her hands extended, Fudge springing in front.
+
+The old painter caught her up in his arms, lifting
+her off her little feet, and as quickly setting her down,
+his eyes snapping, his whole face aglow. The joy bottled
+up in the child seemed to have swept through him
+like an electric current.
+
+"And wasn't it a beautiful party?" she burst out
+when she found her breath. "And wasn't Uncle Felix
+good to make it all for me?" She had moved to O'Day's
+side and had slipped her hand in his.
+
+"Yes, of course, it was," roared Ganger. "Why, old
+Sam Dogger was so excited when he went to bed, he
+didn't sleep a wink all night. He's thought of nothing
+else but parties ever since. He's getting up one for
+you. Told me so this morning."
+
+The child's eyes dilated.
+
+"What sort of a party?"
+
+"Oh, a dandy party, but it's not going to be at night.
+It's going to be in the daytime. All out in the blessed
+sunshine and under the trees. And everybody is going
+to be invited--everybody who belongs."
+
+The child's brow clouded. "Everybody who belongs?
+Why, can't Uncle Felix come?"
+
+"Certainly, he can come. He 'belongs.'"
+
+"And--Fudge?"
+
+"What, that little devil of a dog? Yes, he can
+come, if he promises to behave himself," and he shook
+his head at the culprit. "And all the chippies can
+come. Lots of 'em, and perhaps a couple of robins, if
+they haven't gone away south. And there's a big
+Newfoundland dog, or was before he was stolen, that
+could have swallowed this gentleman down at one
+gulp, but he won't now. HE 'belonged' and always has.
+And, of course, you 'belong' and so does Sam and so do
+I. We go out every other week and sit under these
+very same trees. Sam paints the branches wiggling
+down in the water, and I do leaky boats. When I
+get the picture home, I put Jane Hoggson fishin' in
+the stern.
+
+Masie rolled her eyes.
+
+"And you don't take her with you?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"'Cause she don't 'belong.' Great difference
+whether you belong or not. Jane Hoggson couldn't
+'belong' if she was to be born all over again."
+
+O'Day now joined in. He had been watching Masie,
+noting the lights and shadows which swept over her
+face as the old painter chattered away. He always
+welcomed any plan for giving her pleasure, and was
+blessing Ganger in his heart for providing the diversion.
+
+"And where is all this to take place, Mr. Ganger?"
+Felix asked at last.
+
+"Up on the Bronx. A place you know nothing of
+and wouldn't believe a word about if I should tell
+you--not 'til you see it yourself. It's as full of birds
+and butterflies as England along the Thames, or one
+of those ducky little streams out of Paris. And it
+only costs five cents to get there and five cents to get
+back. And you won't be more than a few hours away
+from your shop. Fine, I tell you, you'll never forget it."
+
+Again Felix broke in.
+
+"I have not a doubt of it, but when is all this to
+take place?"
+
+Ganger gave a little start and grew suddenly grave.
+
+"Well, as to that, you see the day is not yet fixed,
+not precisely. In a week maybe, or it may be two
+weeks. This is Sam's party, you know, and he hasn't
+completed all his arrangements--that is, he hadn't
+completed them when I left him this morning. And,
+of course, a lot has to be done to make everything
+ready"--here he nodded at Masie--"for little princesses
+and great ladies in plumes and satins. But it
+is certainly coming off. Old Sam told me so, and he
+means every word of it. And he was to let you know
+when. That's it, he was to LET YOU KNOW. That's
+another thing he told me to tell you."
+
+The child's name was now called from the top of the
+stairs, and the Gossburger's head craned itself over the
+hand-rail. Fudge opened with a sharp bark, and
+Masie, with an air kiss to Ganger, raced up the steps,
+the dog at her heels, shouting as she ran: "Tell
+Mr. Dogger I send him a kiss, and I thank him ever
+so much, and won't he please come and see me very
+soon."
+
+When she had disappeared, the old fellow leaned
+forward, gazed knowingly at Felix, and in soft-pedal
+tones said:
+
+"You see, Sam couldn't say EXACTLY when the party
+was to take place because--well, because he hasn't
+heard a word about it, and won't until I get back. It
+is my party, not Sam's, and I've got to break it to him
+gently. And I've got to fool him about the party,
+make him think it's his party, or he'll think I'm holding
+it over him because I've got a little more money than
+he has, just as I intend to fool him about the picture.
+I couldn't say, when you asked me, when the day
+was to be fixed, because I've told lies enough to that
+dear child. But I know just what Sam will do when
+I tell him about his party; he'll stand on his head
+he'll be so happy. You see if, when I unwrapped the
+picture, you had talked ten dollars right out, why
+then I was going to make it next Saturday; that is,
+to-morrow. But you hemmed and hawed so, I had
+to make it 'some day soon.' Of course, I never expected
+the fifty; ten will be enough for car-fare all
+around and some beer and sandwiches, that's all we
+ever have. That's why I chucked in Augustus to make
+sure. Well, see what you can do, and don't forget to
+write the note and I'll do the rest of the lying." And
+chuckling to himself he hurried away.
+
+As the door swung wide, a slim man bustled past
+him, and, spying Felix, moved briskly to where he
+stood. He had just ten minutes to spare, he announced,
+and was looking for a present for his wife; "something
+in the way of fans, old ones, and not over five dollars."
+
+Felix, who had raised the lid of the case and was
+stowing Dogger's masterpiece inside to keep it out of
+harm's way, his mind wholly occupied with the two
+old painters and their tenderness toward each other,
+roused himself to answer:
+
+"Yes, half a dozen. Not at your price, though, not
+old ones. Here are two fairly good specimens," and
+he handed them out and laid them on the glass before
+him.
+
+The man leaned forward and peered into the case.
+
+"That's a picture of the Palisades, isn't it?" He had
+ignored the fans.
+
+"Yes, so I understand."
+
+"Oh, I knew it first time I put my eyes on it. I'm
+in the real-estate business. I've got a lot of cottage
+sites along that top edge. Is it for sale?"
+
+"It will be when it's cleaned and varnished and I
+have it framed."
+
+"Belong to you?"
+
+"No; it belongs to a man who has left it for sale.
+He went out as you came in."
+
+"What does he want for it?"
+
+"He would be satisfied with ten dollars, even less,
+because he needs the money. I want fifty."
+
+"You want to make the rest?"
+
+"No, it all goes to him."
+
+"Well, what do you stick it on for?"
+
+"Because if it isn't worth that, it isn't worth anything."
+
+"Take it out and let me have a look at it. Yes,
+just the spot. That whitish streak and that little puff
+of steam is where they're breaking stone. Make a
+good advertisement, wouldn't it, hanging up in your
+office? You can show the owners just where the land
+lies, and you can show a customer just what he's going
+to own."
+
+A brisk bargaining then followed, he determined to
+buy, and Felix to maintain his price. Before the ten
+minutes were out, the bustling man had forgotten all
+about the fan he was in search of for his wife and,
+having assured himself that it was all oil-paint, every
+square inch of it, had propped it up against an ancient
+clock, standing back to see the effect, had haggled on
+five, then ten, then twenty-five, and had finally surrendered
+by laying five ten-dollar bills on the glass
+case. After which he tucked the picture under his
+arm, and without a word of any kind disappeared
+through the street-door.
+
+And that is why the note which Felix had promised
+to write Dogger was sent by messenger instead of by
+mail within five minutes after the picture and the
+buyer had disappeared. And that is why, too, all the
+preliminary subterfuges were omitted, and the substitute
+contained the announcement which follows:
+
+"Dear Mr. Dogger:
+
+"I have just sold your Palisade picture for fifty
+dollars. The amount is at your service whenever you
+call.   "Yours truly,
+               "Felix O'Day."
+
+
+That, too, is why Dogger was so overjoyed that he
+beat the messenger back to Kling's, skipping over the
+flag-stones most of the way till he reached the Dutchman's
+door, where, as befitted a painter whose genius
+had at last been recognized, he slowed down, entering
+the store with a steady gait, a little restrained in his
+manner, saying, as he tried to cram down his joy, that
+it was a mere sketch, you know, something that he
+had knocked off out-of-doors; that Nat had liked it
+and had, so he said, taken it up to have it framed.
+That, of course, he could not afford ever to repeat the
+sale price--not for a ten by fourteen of that quality,
+but that most of his rich patrons were still out of
+town, and so it came in very well.
+
+And, oh, yes, he had almost forgotten! He and
+Nat were going up to Laguerre's, on the Bronx, to an
+old French cafe, where they often lunched and painted;
+that Nat had suggested just as he left the studio that
+it would be a good thing if Felix and that dear child
+Masie would go with them, and that they would go
+Saturday, which was to-morrow, if that would suit
+O'Day and Masie. And if that wouldn't suit, why
+then they'd go the very first day that did, say Sunday
+or Monday, the sooner the better.
+
+To all of which Felix, reading every thought that
+lurked behind the moist eyes of the tender-hearted old
+fraud, had replied that, if he had the choosing, to-morrow,
+of all the days in the year, would be the very
+day he would select, and that he and Masie would
+be ready any hour that he and Mr. Ganger would
+be good enough to call for them.
+
+At which the old painter took himself off in high
+glee.
+
+And an altogether delightful and a very happy party
+it was. Sam, as host-in-chief, sparing no expense, his
+first act being to pre-empt a summer-house covered
+with vines, already tinged by the touches of autumn's
+fingers; and his second to insist in a loud voice on chairs
+and table-cloths, instead of a sandwich spread out on a
+bench, as had been their custom, followed by a demand
+for olives and a small bottle of red wine, to say nothing
+of a double brace of chops, and all with the air of a
+multimillionaire ordering a cold bottle and a hot bird
+at Delmonico's. And Nat, grown ten years younger
+--a mere boy in fact--showed Masie how to throw
+little leaden weights down the throat of a small cast-iron
+frog, and Felix mixed the salad and served it,
+Masie changing the dishes and running back to the
+house for fresh ones, while Fudge, in frenzied glee,
+scurried over the soft earth as if he had suddenly been
+seized with St. Vitus's dance. And then, when there
+was not a crumb of anything left even for the chippies,
+they all stretched themselves flat on the grass in the
+warm Indian summer weather, the two old fellows entertaining
+the child with all the stories they could
+think of, Felix looking on, replenishing his pipe from
+time to time, his own spirit soothed and comforted by
+the happiness around him.
+
+Even Kitty noticed the new light in his eyes when
+they all came back, for Felix brought the two old
+painters into her sitting-room so that they might renew
+an acquaintance they had made on the night of the
+ball and "become better known to a woman of distinction,"
+as he laughingly put it, which so delighted
+the dear soul that that night she said to her husband:
+
+"He'll stop trampin' pretty soon, I think, John.
+Somethin's soaked into him in the last day or two.
+It's them old painters, I think, that's helpin' him.
+He come in a while ago with that child clingin' to
+him and them two mossbacks followin' behin', and
+his face was all ironed out, and I could see a song
+trembling on his lips all ready to burst out. Pray
+God it'll last!"
+
+
+
+
+Chapter X
+
+
+
+While it was true that Felix, since Masie's party,
+had gained the complete good-will of his neighbors,
+there were, strange as it may seem, certain individuals
+who, while they acknowledged the charm of his personality,
+resented his quiet reserve. What nettled
+them most was his not having told them at once who he
+was and why he had come to Kling's, and why he had
+stayed on wrapped in mystery. They considered themselves,
+so to speak, as defrauded of something which
+was their right and said so in plain terms.
+
+"Well, I hope it won't be a pair of handcuffs they'll
+surprise him with some day"; or, "When that pal of
+his turns up, then you'll see fun," being some of the
+suggestions frequently made over counters, to be answered
+by his loyal adherents with a "Well, I don't
+care what ye say. I ain't never come across no man
+any better than Felix O'Day since I lived here, and
+that's no lie."
+
+There were others, too, who refused to believe
+any good of the self-contained, reticent stranger. The
+nephew of somebody's brother-in-law, who lived in
+Lexington Avenue, was one. He had been promised,
+by the cousin of somebody else, the position of clerk
+with Otto Kling, and although Otto had never heard
+of it, he WOULD have heard of it and the nephew been
+duly installed but for "a galoot who SAID his name
+was O'Day."
+
+And another thing. What was a fellow, who would
+work under a Dutchman like Kling, for only enough
+to pay his board, doing with a dress suit, anyhow?
+The fact was that O'Day was either here "on the
+quiet" to escape his creditors, while his friends were
+trying to patch things up for his return, or he was
+an English valet who had stolen his master's clothes.
+
+A new rumor now filled the air. O'Day, was a spy
+sent by some foreign government to look after important
+interests, like that Russian who had been employed
+in a publishing house, where he wrote articles for an
+encyclopaedia, only to be recognized later, whereupon
+he had disappeared and was never seen again. Tim
+Kelsey had known him. In fact, he had visited often
+Tim's bookstore at night, just as O'Day was visiting it,
+and where a lot of other queer-looking people could be
+found if anybody would "take the trouble to knock at
+Kelsey's door and peer in through the tobacco smoke
+some night."
+
+All this gossip rolled off Kitty's mind as rain from
+a tin roof. Only once did she rise up in anger with a
+"Get out of my place! I'll not have ye soiling the
+air with yer dirty talk. Get out, I say! Ye don't
+know a gentleman when ye see him, and ye never
+will."
+
+It was when these rumors as to her lodger's identity
+were thickest and when Kitty's heart had begun to
+fear that his despondency was returning, his nightly
+prowls having been resumed, that a hansom cab stopped
+in front of her door.
+
+It was one of her busy days, the sidewalk being
+blocked up with twenty or more trunks, parcels, cribs,
+and baby-carriages on their way, by the aid of Mike,
+the big white horse, and John, to the Ferry for shipment
+to Lakewood. Kitty was in charge of the quarter-deck,
+her head bare, her sleeves rolled above her elbows,
+showing her plump, ruddy arms, her cheeks and eyes
+aglow with the crisp air of the morning. October had
+set in, and one of those lung-filling, bracing days--the
+sky swept by dancing clouds, dragging their skirts in
+their flight--was making glad the great city.
+
+Kitty loved its snap and tang. She loved, too, the
+excitement aroused by her duties, and was never so
+happy as when there were but so many minutes to
+catch a train--a fact she never ceased to impress upon
+everybody about her, she knowing all the time that she
+would so manage the loading as to have five minutes
+to spare.
+
+"In with those hand-bags, Mike--in the front, where
+that Saratoga trunk won't smash 'em. Now that crib
+--no--not loose! Get that strap around it; do ye
+want to have to pick it up before ye get half-way to
+the tunnel? Hurry up, John, dear! Hold on--give me
+the other handle of that--look at it now, big as a
+chicken-coop! Them Fifth Avenue ladies will be livin'
+in these things if they keep on."
+
+These orders and remarks, fired in rapid succession,
+were interrupted to her great annoyance by the driver
+of the hansom cab, who, impatient at the delay, had
+touched his horse lightly with the whip, bringing the
+big wheels to a stop in front of the huge trunk which
+Kitty was anathematizing.
+
+"Go on wid ye! Drive on, I tell ye !" she cried,
+opening fire on the driver.
+
+"Gentleman wants to--"
+
+"Well, I don't care what the gentleman wants. This
+stuff's got to go aboard that wagon."
+
+Here the passenger's head was thrust forward.
+
+"Can you--"
+
+"Yes, of course I can, and glad to, no matter what it
+is--but not this minute. Don't ye see what I'm up
+against?"
+
+The hansom was backed its full length, the passenger
+watching Kitty's movements with evident amusement.
+
+Two strong hands, one Kitty's and the other John's
+--mostly John's--lifted the chicken-coop of a trunk
+bodily, rested it for an instant on the forward wheel,
+and with another "all together" jerk sent it rolling
+into the wagon. This completed the loading.
+
+The passenger craned his head again.
+
+"I am staying in Gramercy Park, and want--"
+
+Kitty, who had been stretching her neck to its full
+length to catch his words, straightened up. "Ye'll
+have to get out. I'm no long-distance telephone, and
+the racket of them horse-cars is enough to set a body
+crazy."
+
+The passenger laughed, stretched out a leg, gathered
+the other beside it, and stepped to the sidewalk. "You
+seem to understand your business, my good woman,"
+he began, unbuttoning his overcoat to get at the inside
+pocket of his cutaway.
+
+"Why shouldn't I? I been at it these twenty years."
+
+She had taken him in now, from his polished silk hat,
+gray hair, and red cheeks down to his check trousers,
+white spats, and well-brushed shoes. Her own face
+was by this time wreathed in smiles; she saw the man
+was a gentleman who had intended only to be courteous.
+"Is that what ye came to tell me?" she cried.
+
+"No, but I would have done so if I had ever watched
+you work. Oh, here it is," he continued, drawing out
+his pocketbook. "I want you to--" he stopped and
+looked at her from over the rims of his gold spectacles--
+"but I may not have hold of the right person. May I
+ask if you belong here?"
+
+Her head went up with a toss, her eyes dancing.
+"Of course ye can ask anything ye please, but I'll tell
+ye right off I don't belong here. Every blessed thing
+here belongs to me and my man John."
+
+The passenger broke into a laugh. He had evidently
+found a rara avis, and was enjoying the discovery to the
+full. American types always interested him; this sample
+of Irish-New York was a revelation.
+
+"Go on," smiled Kitty, "I'm waitin'."
+
+"Well, take this order to No. 3 Gramercy Park, and
+they will give you my two boxes, a shirt case, a roll of
+steamer-rugs, and some golf-sticks in a leather pouch,
+five pieces in all. Get them down to the Cunard dock
+by eleven, and my servant will be there to take charge
+of them. The steamer sails at twelve. Is that clear?"
+
+She reached for the paper and began checking off
+the number of the apartment, number of pieces, dock,
+and hour. This was all that interested her.
+
+"It is--clear as mud--and they'll be on time. And
+now, who's to pay?"
+
+"I am, and--" He stopped suddenly, staring in
+blank amazement at Felix, who had just emerged from
+the side door and was stopping for a word with one of
+John's drivers. "My God!" he muttered in a low
+voice, as if talking to himself. "I can't be mistaken."
+
+Felix nodded a good morning to Kitty and, with
+an alert, quick stride crossed the sidewalk diagonally,
+and bent his steps toward Kling's.
+
+The Englishman followed him with his gaze, his open
+pocketbook still in his hands. "Is that gentleman a
+customer of yours?" Had he seen a dead man suddenly
+come to life he could not have been more astounded.
+
+"He is, and pays his rent like one."
+
+"Rent? For what?" The customer seemed completely
+at sea.
+
+"For my up-stairs room. He's my lodger and I
+never had a better."
+
+The Englishman caught his breath. "Do you know
+who he is?" he asked cautiously.
+
+"Of course I do! Do you happen to know him?"
+John had moved up now and stood listening.
+
+"Not personally, but, unless I am very much mistaken,
+that is Sir Felix O'Day."
+
+"Ye ain't mistaken, you're dead right--all but the
+'Sir.' That's somethin' new to me. It's MR. Felix
+O'Day around here, and there ain't a finer nor a better.
+What do ye know about him?" Her voice had softened
+and a slight shade of anxiety had crept into it.
+John craned his head to hear the better.
+
+"Nothing to his discredit. He has had a lot of
+trouble--terrible trouble--more than anybody I know.
+I heard he had gone to Australia. I see now that he
+came to New York. Well, upon my soul, Sir Felix
+living over an express office!"
+
+He handed her a bill, waited until John had fished up
+the change from the trousers pocket, repeated, in an
+absent-minded way: "Sir Felix living here! Good
+God! What next?" and, beckoning to the driver,
+stepped inside the hansom and drove off.
+
+Kitty looked at her husband, her color coming and
+going. "What did I tell ye, John, dear? And ye
+wouldn't believe a word of it."
+
+John returned Kitty's look. He, too, was trying to
+grasp the full meaning of the announcement. "Are ye
+going to tell him ye know, Kitty?" Neither of them
+had the slightest doubt of its truth.
+
+"No, I ain't," she flashed back. "Not a word--nor
+nobody else. When Mr. Felix O'Day gits ready to tell
+us, he will."
+
+"Will ye tell Father Cruse?" he persisted.
+
+"I don't know that I will. I'll have to think it over.
+And now, John, remember!--not a word of this to any
+livin' soul. Do ye promise?"
+
+"I do." He hesitated, another question struggling
+to his lips, and then added: "What's up wid him, do
+ye think, Kitty?"
+
+"I don't know, John, dear. I wish I did, but
+whatever it is, its breakin' his heart."
+
+
+
+
+Chapter XI
+
+
+
+The discovery of her lodger's title made but little
+difference to Kitty, nor did it raise him a whit in her
+estimation. At best, it only confirmed her first impression
+of his being a gentleman--every inch of him.
+She may have studied the more closely her lodger's
+habits, noting his constant care of his person, the way
+in which he used his knife and fork, the softness and
+cleanliness of his hands--all object-lessons to her, for
+she broke out on her husband the day after her talk
+with the Englishman in the hansom cab with:
+
+"I want to tell ye that ye'll have to stop spatterin'
+yer soup around after this, John, dear. I'm going to
+have a clean table-cloth on every day, and a clean
+napkin for him, and as I'm doin' the washing myself
+ye've got to help an' not muss things. First thing ye
+know he'll sour on what we are giving him and be
+goin' off worse than ever, trampin' the streets till all
+hours of the night." At which John had stretched his
+big frame and with a prolonged yawn, his arms over
+his head, had remarked: "All right, Kitty, you're boss.
+Sir or no sir, he's got no frills about him--just plain
+man like the rest of us."
+
+Neither would his title, had they known it, have
+made the slightest difference to any one of the habitues
+who gathered in Tim Kelsey's book-shop.
+
+Who Felix was, or what he had done, or what he was
+about to do, were questions never considered, either by
+Kelsey or by his friends. That he was part of the driftwood
+left stranded and unrecognized on the intellectual
+shore was enough. All that any of them asked for was
+brains, and Felix, even before the first evening had
+ended, had uncovered a stock so varied, and of such
+unusual proportions, and of so brilliant a character
+that he was always accorded the right of way whenever
+he took charge of the talk.
+
+And a queer lot they were who listened, and a queer
+lot they had to be, to enjoy Kelsey's confidence. "Men
+are like books," he would often say to Felix. "It is
+their insides I care for, no matter how badly they are
+bound. The half-calf or all-morocco sort never appeal
+to me. Shelf fellows seldom handled, I call
+them, and a man who is not handled and rubbed up
+against, with a corner worn off here and there, is like
+a book kept under glass. Nobody cares anything about
+it except as an ornament, and I have no room for
+ornaments."
+
+That is why the door was kept shut at night, when
+some half-calf rapped and Tim would get a look at
+his binding through the shutter and tiptoe back, closing
+the door of the inner room behind him.
+
+Among Kelsey's collection was old Silas Murford, the
+custom-house clerk--a fat, stupid-looking old fellow
+whose chin rested on his shirt-front and whose middle
+rested on his knees, the whole of him, when seated,
+filling Tim's biggest chair. Tim prized this volume
+most, for when Silas began to talk, the sheepish look
+would fade out of his placid face, his little pig eyes
+would vanish, and the listener would discover to his
+astonishment that not only was this lethargic lump of
+flesh a delightful conversationalist but that he had
+spent every hour he could spare from his custom-house
+in a study of the American system of immigration--
+and had at his tongue's end a mass of statistics about
+which few men knew anything.
+
+Crackburn, an authority on the earlier printers, then
+in charge of the prints in the Astor Library, and who,
+for diversion, ground lenses on the sly, was another
+prize document. And so was Lockwood, the lapidary,
+famous as a designer of medals and seals; and many
+more such oddities. "Fine old copies," Kelsey would
+say of them, "hand-printed, all of them; one or two,
+like old Silas, extremely rare."
+
+That he considered Felix entitled to a place in his
+private collection had been decided at their first meeting.
+"Met a mask with a man behind it," he had announced
+to his intimates that same night. "Got a fine
+nose for what's worth having. Located that chant
+book as soon as he laid his hands on it. I didn't get
+any farther than the skin of his face and you won't,
+either. He has promised to come over, and when you
+have rubbed up against him for half an hour, as I did
+this morning, you will think as I do."
+
+Since that time, Felix had spent many comforting
+hours in Kelsey's little back room. Sometimes he
+would drop in about nine and remain until half past
+ten; at other times, it would be nearer midnight
+before he would turn the knob.
+
+As for the shop itself, nothing up and down "The
+Avenue" was quite as odd, quite as ramshackly, or
+quite as picturesque. What the public saw, on either
+side of the down-two-steps entrance, was a bench with
+slanting shelves, holding a double row of books and
+two patched glass windows, protecting disordered
+heaps of prints, stained engravings, and old etchings,
+the whole embedded in dust.
+
+What the owner's intimates saw, once they got inside
+and continued to the end of the building, was
+a low-ceiled room warmed by an old-fashioned Franklin
+stove and lighted by a drop covered by a green shade.
+All about were easy chairs, a table or two, a sideboard,
+some long shelves loaded down with books, and an iron
+safe which held some precious manuscripts and one or
+two early editions.
+
+When the room was shut the shop was open, and
+when the shop was shut, the shutters fastened, and
+the two benches with their books lifted bodily and
+brought inside, the little back room, smoke-dried as
+an old ham, and as savory and inviting, once you got
+its flavor, was ready for his guests.
+
+On one of these rare nights when the room was
+full, it happened that the same fifteenth-century chant
+book, which had brought Tim and Felix together, was
+lying on the table. The discussion which followed
+easily drifted into the influence of the Roman Catholic
+church on the art of the period; Felix maintaining
+that but for the impetus it gave, neither the art
+of illumination nor any of the other arts would at the
+time have reached the heights they attained.
+
+"This missal is but an example of it," he continued,
+drawing the battered, yellow-stained book toward him.
+"Whatever these old monks, with their religious fervor,
+touched they enriched and glorified, whether it were
+an initial letter, as you see here, or an altar-piece; and
+more than that, many of them painted wonderfully
+well."
+
+"And a narrow-minded, bigoted lot they were,"
+broke in Crackburn. "If they'd had their way there
+would not have been a printing-press in existence.
+If you are going to canonize anybody, begin with
+Aldus Minutius."
+
+"Only a difference in patrons," chimed in Lockwood,
+"the difference between a pope and a doge."
+
+"And it's the same to-day," echoed Kelsey, taking
+the book from O'Day's hand, to keep the leaves from
+buckling. "Only it's neither pope nor doge, but the
+money king who's the patron. We should all starve
+to death but for him. I've been waiting for Mr. O'Day
+to hunt one down and make him buy this," he added,
+closing the book carefully. "Nobody else around here
+appreciates its rarity or would give a five-dollar bill
+for it."
+
+"Go slow," puffed old Silas, hunched up in his chair.
+"Money kings are good in their way, and so perhaps
+were popes and doges, but give me a plain priest every
+time. You wonder, Mr. O'Day, what those great
+masters in art could have done without the protection
+of the church. I wonder what the poor of to-day
+would do without their priests. Go up to 28th Street
+and look in at St. Barnabas's. Its doors are open
+from before sunrise until near midnight. When you
+are in trouble, either hungry or hunted, and most of
+the poor are both, walk in and see what will happen.
+You'll find that a priest in New York is everything
+from a policeman to a hospital nurse, and he is always
+on his job. When nobody else listens, he listens; when
+nobody else helps, he holds out a hand. I haven't
+lived here sixty years for nothing."
+
+"When you say 'listen,'" asked Felix, whose attention
+to the conversation had never wavered, "do you
+refer to the confessional?"
+
+"I do not. That's the least part of it. So are the
+mass and the candles and choir-boys and the rest of
+the outfit, all very well in their way, for Sundays and
+fast-days, but just so much stage scenery to me, though
+its heaven to the poor devils who get color and music
+and restful quiet in contrast to their barren homes.
+But praying before the altar is only one-quarter of
+what these priests are doing every hour of the day
+and night. It's part of my business to follow them
+around, and I know. Hand me a light, Tim, my
+pipe's out."
+
+Felix, being nearest the box, struck a match and
+held it close to Silas's bowl, a cloud of smoke rising between
+them. When it had cleared, O'Day remarked
+quietly: "Don't stop, Mr. Murford; go on, I am
+listening. You have, as you said, only told us one-
+quarter of what these priests are doing. Where do
+the other three-quarters come in?"
+
+Silas rapped the bowl against the arm of his chair
+to clear it the better, and, twisting his great bulk toward
+O'Day, said slowly: "If I tell you, will you listen
+and keep on listening until I get through?"
+
+Felix bowed his head in acquiescence. The others,
+knowing what a story from Silas meant, craned their
+necks in his direction.
+
+"Well! One night last winter--over on Avenue A,
+snow on the ground, mind you, and cold as Greenland--
+a row broke out on the third floor of a tenement house.
+In the snow on the sidewalk shivered a half-naked girl.
+She was sobbing. Her father had come in from his
+night shift at the gas house, crazy drunk, a piece of
+lead pipe in his hand.
+
+"Two or three people had stopped, gazed at the girl,
+and passed her by. Tenement-house rows are too
+common in some districts to be bothered over. A
+policeman crossed the street, peered up the stairway,
+listened to the screams inside, looked the sobbing
+girl over, and kept on his way, swinging his club. A
+priest came along--one I know, a well-set-up man,
+who can take care of himself, no matter where.
+He touched the girl's arm and drew her inside the
+doorway, his head bent to hear her story. Then he
+went up--in jumps--two steps at a time--stumbling
+in the dark, picking himself up again, catching at the
+rail to help him mount the quicker, the screams overhead
+increasing at every step. When he reached the
+door, it was bolted on the inside. He let drive with
+his shoulder and in it went. The girl's mother was
+crouching in the far corner of the room, behind a
+heavy sofa. The drunken husband stood over her,
+trying to get at her skull with the piece of lead pipe.
+
+"At the bursting in of the door the brute wheeled
+and, with an oath, made straight for the priest, the
+weapon in his fist.
+
+"The priest stepped clear of the door-jamb, moved
+under the single gas-jet, drew out his crucifix, and held
+it up.
+
+"The drunkard stood staring.
+
+"The priest advanced step by step. The brute
+cowered, staggered back, and fell in a heap on the floor."
+
+"Magnificent," broke out Lockwood. "Superb!
+And well told. You would make a great actor,
+Murford."
+
+"Perhaps," answered Silas with a reproving look,
+"but don't forget that it HAPPENED."
+
+"I haven't a doubt of it," exclaimed Felix quietly,
+"but please go on, Mr. Murford. To me your story
+has only begun. What happened next?"
+
+Silas's eyes glistened. Lockwood's criticism had gone
+over his head; he was accustomed to that sort of thing.
+What pleased him was the interest O'Day had shown
+in his pet subject--the sufferings of the poor being one
+of his lifelong topics of thought and conversation.
+
+"The confessional happened next," replied Silas.
+"Then a sober husband, a sober wife, and a girl at
+work--and they are still at it--for I got the man a job
+as night-watchman in the custom-house, at Father
+Cruse's request."
+
+Felix started forward. "You surely don't mean
+Father Cruse of St. Barnabas's?" he exclaimed eagerly.
+
+"Exactly."
+
+"Was it he who burst in that door?"
+
+"It was, and there isn't a tramp or a stranded girl
+within half a mile of where we sit that he doesn't
+know and take care of. So I say you can have your
+money kings and your popes and your doges; as for
+me, I'll take Father Cruse every time, and there's
+dozens just like him."
+
+Felix pushed back his chair, reached for his hat,
+said good night in his usual civil tone, and left the
+shop, Murford merely nodding at him over the bowl
+of his pipe, the others taking no notice of his departure.
+It was the way they did things at Kelsey's.
+There were no great welcomings when they arrived
+and no good-bys when they parted. They would meet
+again the next night, perhaps the next morning--and
+more extended courtesies were considered unnecessary.
+
+All the way back to Kitty's the erect figure of Father
+Cruse, holding the emblem of his faith in that dimly
+lighted room stood out clear. He wondered why he
+had not seen more of the man whose courage and faith
+he himself had dimly recognized at their first meeting,
+and determined to cultivate his acquaintance at once.
+Long ago he had promised Kitty to do so. He would
+keep that promise by timing his visit so as to reach
+St. Barnabas's when the service was over. The balance
+of the evening could then be spent with the father.
+
+He glanced at his watch and a glow of satisfaction
+spread over his face as he noted the hour. Kitty would
+be up, and he would have the opportunity of delighting
+her with the details of the tribute Murford had
+paid her beloved priest. The more he pictured the
+effect upon her, the lighter grew his heart.
+
+He began before the knob of the sitting-room had
+left his hand and had gone as far as: "Oh I heard
+something about a friend of yours who--" when she
+checked him by rising to her feet and exclaiming:
+
+"Hold on a minute and listen to me first. I have
+something that belongs to ye. I found it after ye'd
+gone out, and ran after ye. I thought ye'd miss
+it and come back. I wonder ye didn't. Ye see I was
+tidyin' up yer room, and yer brush dropped down
+behind the bureau; and when I pushed it out from
+the wall I found this under the edge of the carpet.
+Ye better keep these little things in the drawer." Her
+hand was in the capacious pocket of her apron as she
+spoke, her plump fingers feeling about its depths. "Oh,
+here it is," she cried. "I was gettin' nigh scared ter
+death fer fear I'd lost it. Here, give me your cuff and
+I'll put it in fer ye."
+
+"What is it? A cuff button?" he asked, controlling
+his disappointment but biding his time.
+
+"Yes, and a good one."
+
+"I'm sorry, Mistress Kitty, but it cannot be mine,"
+he returned with a smile. "I have but one pair, and
+both buttons are in place, as you can see," and he held
+out his cuffs.
+
+"Well, then, who can this one belong to? Take a
+look at it. It's got arms on one button and two letters
+mixed up together on the other," and she dropped it
+into his hand.
+
+Felix held the sleeve-links to the light, smothered a
+cry and, with a quick movement of his hands, steadied
+himself by the table.
+
+"Where did you get this?" he breathed rather than
+spoke.
+
+"I just told ye. Down behind the bureau where ye
+dropped it, along with your hair-brush."
+
+Felix tightened his fingers, straining the muscles of
+his arms, striving with all his might to keep his body
+from shaking. He had his back to her, his face toward
+the lamp, and had thus escaped her scrutiny. "I
+haven't lost it," he faltered, prolonging the examination
+to gain time and speaking with great deliberation.
+
+"Ye haven't! Oh, I am that disappointed! And
+ye didn't drop it? Well, then, who did drop it?" she
+cried, looking over his shoulder. She had been thinking
+all the evening how pleased he would be when she returned
+it, and in her chagrin had not noticed the
+mental storm he was trying to master.
+
+"And ye're sure ye didn't drop it?" she reiterated.
+
+"Quite sure," he answered slowly, his face still in
+the shadow, the link still in his hand.
+
+"Well, that's the strangest thing I ever heard! We
+don't have nobody--we ain't never had nobody up in
+that room with things on 'em like that. The fellow
+that John and I fired didn't have no sleeve-buttons."
+
+"Perhaps somebody else may have dropped it," he
+answered, sinking into a chair. He was devouring her
+face, trying to read behind her eyes, praying she would
+go on, yet fearing to prolong the inquiry lest she should
+discover his agitation.
+
+"No, there ain't nobody," she said at last, "and if
+there was there wouldn't-- Stop! Hold on a minute,
+I got it! You've bin here six months or more, ain't
+ye?"
+
+Felix nodded, his eyes still fastened on her own. A
+nod was better than the spoken word until his voice
+obeyed him the better.
+
+"An' ye ain't had a soul in that room but yerself
+since ye've been here? Is that true?"
+
+Again Felix nodded.
+
+"Of course it's true, whether ye say it or not. What
+a fool I was to ask ye! I got it now. That sleeve-
+link belongs to a poor creature who slept in that room
+three or four days before ye come and skipped the
+next morning."
+
+Felix's fingers tightened on the arm of the chair. For
+the moment it seemed to him as if he were swaying
+with the room. "Some one you were kind to, I suppose,"
+he said, lifting a hand to shade his face, the
+words coming one at a time, every muscle in his body
+taut.
+
+"What else could we do? Leave the poor thing out
+in the cold and wet?"
+
+"It was, then, some one you picked up, was it not?"
+The room had stopped swaying and he was beginning
+to breathe evenly again. He saw that he had not betrayed
+himself. Her calm proved it; and so did the
+infinite pity that crept into her tones as she related
+the incident.
+
+"No, some one Tom McGinniss picked up on his
+beat, or would have picked up hadn't John and I come
+along. And that wet she was, and everything streamin'
+puddles, an' she, poor dear, draggled like a dog in the
+gutter."
+
+Felix's sheltering hand sagged suddenly, exposing for
+a moment his strained face and wide-open eyes.
+
+"I didn't understand it was a woman," he stammered,
+turning his head still farther from the light of
+the lamp.
+
+"Yes, of course, it was a woman, and a lady, too.
+That's what I've been a-tellin' ye. Here, take my seat
+if that light gets into your eyes. I see it's botherin'
+ye. It's that red shade that does it. It sets John
+half crazy sometimes. I'll turn it down. Well, that's
+better. Yes, a lady. An' she wet as a rat an' all
+the heart out of her. An' that link ye got in yer
+hand is hers and nobody else's. John and I had been
+to evening service at St. Barnabas's, an' we hung on
+behind till everybody had gone so as to have a word
+with Father Cruse, after he had taken off his vestments.
+We bid him good night, come out of the 29th
+Street door, and kept on toward Lexington Avenue.
+We hadn't gone but a little way from the church, when
+John, who was walking ahead, come up agin Tom
+McGinniss. He was stooping over a woman huddled
+up on them big front steps before you get to the corner.
+
+"'What are you doin', Tom?' says John.
+
+"'It's a drunk,' he says, 'an I'll run her in an' she'll
+sleep it off and be all the better in the mornin'.'
+
+"'Let me take a look at her, Tom,' says I; an' I got
+close to her breath and there was no more liquor inside
+her than there is in me this minute.
+
+"'You'll do nothin' of the kind, Tom McGinniss,'
+says I. 'This poor thing is beat out with cold and
+hunger. Give her to me. I'll take her home. Get hold
+of her, John, an' lift her up.'
+
+"If ye'd 'a' seen her, Mr. O'Day, it would have torn
+ye all to pieces. The life and spirit was all out of her.
+She was like a child half asleep, that would go anywhere
+you took her. If I'd said, 'Come along, I'm goin'
+to drown ye,' she'd 'a' come just the same. Not one
+word fell out of her mouth. Just went along between
+us, John an' I helpin' her over the curbs and gutters
+until she got to this kitchen, an' I sat her down in that
+chair, close by the stove, and began to dry her out,
+for her dress was all soaked in the mud and streamin'
+with water. I got some hot coffee into her, an' found a
+pair of John's old shoes, an' put 'em on her feet till I
+had dried her own, an' when she got so she could speak
+--not drunk, mind ye, nor doped; just dazed like as if
+she had been hunted and had given up all hope. She
+said like a sick child speakin': 'You've been very kind,
+and I'm very grateful. I'll go now.'
+
+"'No, ye won't,' I says; 'ye'll stay where ye are.
+Ye don't leave this place to-night. Ye'll go up-stairs
+and git into my bed.' She looked at me kind o' scared-
+like; then she looked at John an' our big man Mike
+who had come in while I was dryin' her out, but I
+stopped that right away. 'No, ye needn't worry,' I
+said, 'an' ye won't. Ye're just as safe here as ye would
+be in your mother's arms. Ye ain't the first one my man
+John an' I have taken care of, an' ye won't be the last.
+Take another sip o' that hot coffee, an' come with me.'
+
+"Well, we got her up-stairs, an' I helped her undress,
+an' when I unhooked her skirt an' it fell to the floor,
+I saw what I was up aginst. She had the finest pair
+of silk stockings on her feet ye ever seen in your life,
+and her petticoat was frills up to her knees. She said
+nothin' an' I said nothin'. 'Git in,' I said, an' I
+turned down the cover and come out. The next
+mornin' the boys had to get over to Hoboken, an' I
+was up before daylight and then back to bed again.
+At seven o'clock I went to her room and pushed in the
+door. She was gone, an' I've never seen her since. That
+cuff-link's hers. Take it up-stairs with ye an' put it
+in the wash-stand drawer. I'll lose it if I keep it down
+here, an' she's bound to come back for it some day.
+What time is it? Twelve o'clock, if I'm alive! Well,
+then, I'm goin' to bed, and you're goin', too. John's
+got his key, and there's his coffee, but he won't be
+long now."
+
+Felix sat still. Only when she had finished busying
+herself about the room making ready to close the
+place for the night did he rouse himself. So still was
+he, and so absorbed that she thought he had fallen
+asleep, until she became aware of a flash from under
+the overhanging brows and heard him say, as if speaking
+to himself: "It was very good of you. Yes, very
+good--of you--to do it, and--I suppose she never came
+back?"
+
+"She never did," returned Kitty, drawing a chair
+away from the heat of the stove, "and I'm that sorry
+she didn't. I'll fix the lights when ye've gone up.
+Good night to ye."
+
+"Good night, Mrs. Cleary," and he left the room.
+
+In the same absorbed way he mounted the stairs,
+opened his own door and, without turning up the gas,
+sank heavily into a chair, the link still held fast in his
+hand. A moment later he sprang from his seat, stepped
+quickly to the gas-jet, turned up the light, and held one
+of the small buttons to the flame, as if to reassure himself
+of the initials; then with a smothered cry fell
+across the narrow bed, his face hidden in the quilt.
+
+For an hour he lay motionless, his mind a seething
+caldron, above which writhed distorted shapes who hid
+their faces as they mounted upward. When these
+vanished and a certain calm fell upon him, two figures
+detached themselves and stood clear: a woman cowering
+on a door-step, her skirts befouled with the slime
+of the streets, and a priest with hand upraised, his
+only weapon the symbol of his God.
+
+
+
+
+Chapter XII
+
+
+
+The morning brought him little relief. He drank
+his coffee in comparative silence and crossed the street
+to his work with only a slight bend of his head toward
+Kitty, who was helping Mike tag some baggage. She
+noticed then how pale he was and the wan smile that
+swept over his face as she waved her hand at him in
+answer, but she was too busy over the trunks to give
+the subject further thought.
+
+Masie was waiting for him in the back part of the
+shop, which, by the same old process of moving things
+around, had been fitted up into a sort of private office
+for Kling, two high-back settles serving for one wall,
+three bureaus for another, while some Spanish chairs,
+a hair-cloth sofa studded with brass nails, an inlaid
+table, and a Daghestan rug helped to make it secluded
+and attractive. Kling liked the new arrangement because
+he could keep one eye on his books and the other
+on the front door, thus killing two birds with one stone.
+Masie loved it because when Felix had so many customers
+that he could neither talk nor play with her, it
+served her as a temporary refuge--as would a shelter
+until the rain was over--and Felix delighted in it because
+it kept Kling out of the way, the good-natured
+Dutchman having often spoiled a sale by what Felix
+called "inopportune remarks at opportune moments."
+
+Although Masie's business on this particular morning
+was nothing more important than merely saying good-by
+to her "Uncle Felix" before she went to school, her
+wee stub of a nose had, until she saw him cross the
+street, been flattened against the glass of her father's
+front door, her two eager, anxious eyes fixed on Kitty's
+sidewalk. Felix was over an hour late, something
+which had never happened before and something which
+could not have happened now unless he had either
+overslept himself--an unbelievable fact, or was ill--a
+calamity which could not be thought of for a moment.
+
+While a nod and a faint smile had done for Kitty,
+and a "No, I was not very well last night," had sufficed
+for Kling, whose eyebrows made the inquiry--he never
+finding fault with O'Day for lapses of any kind--the
+case was far different when it came to Masie. The
+little lady had to be coaxed into one of the easy chairs
+in the improvised office and comforted with an arm
+around her shoulder, to say nothing of having her hair
+smoothed back from her face, followed by a kiss on
+her white forehead, before her overwrought anxieties
+were allayed.
+
+That he was not himself was apparent to every one.
+Masie was still sure of it when she bade him good-by,
+and Kling became convinced of it long before the day
+was over. As the afternoon wore on, however, he grew
+calmer. His indomitable will began to reassert itself.
+His manner became more alert, and his glance clearer.
+
+When he found himself able to think, he determined
+that his first move must be to find Carlin, and that
+very night. It had been some weeks since he had
+visited the ship-chandler. He had tried the latch several
+times, and would have repeated his visits had not
+a bystander told him that Carlin was in the country
+fitting out a yacht for one of his customers and would
+not be back for a month. The time was now up.
+
+And yet, when he thought it all over, could he,
+in view of this new phase of the case, seek Carlin's
+help and advice? What might be better--and his
+heart gave a bound--would be to see Father Cruse.
+The woman whom Kitty had picked up might be one
+of his waifs, who, overcome by fatigue or illness after
+leaving the church, had fallen on the door-step where
+the policeman had found her.
+
+At six o'clock he left the shop with a formal good
+night to Kling, a hasty, almost abrupt good-by to
+Masie, and, without a word of any kind to Kitty, whose
+quiet scrutiny he dreaded, bent his steps to a small
+eating-room in the basement of one of the old-time
+private houses in Lexington Avenue, where he sometimes
+took his meals. At seven o'clock he was threading
+his way through the crowds in Third Avenue,
+searching the face of every one he met. At eight
+o'clock, his impatience growing, he turned into 28th
+Street and mounted the short flight of steps in front of
+St. Barnabas's. The tones of the organ, as well as the
+illumined stained-glass windows and the groups of people
+around the swinging doors of the vestibule, showed
+that a service was being held. These, however, were
+the only evidences that a body of people had met to
+pray inside, both pavements outside being filled with
+hurrying throngs, as were the barrooms opposite,
+crowded with loud-talking men lining the bars, with
+here and there a woman at a table.
+
+Passing through the vestibule doors, he entered the
+church and found a seat near the entrance. Father
+Cruse, in full vestments, was officiating. He was before
+the altar at the moment, his back to the congregation.
+Most of them were working people who had
+only their evenings free, and for whom these services
+were held: girls from the department stores, servants
+with an evening out, trainmen from the Elevated, off
+duty for an hour or two, small storekeepers whose
+places closed early, with their wives and children beside
+them, all under the spell of the hushed interior. Some
+prayed without moving, their heads bowed; others
+kept their eyes fixed on the priest. One or two had
+their faces turned toward the choir-loft, completely
+absorbed in the full, deep tones that rolled now and
+then through the responses.
+
+Nothing of all this impressed Felix at first. He
+had always regarded the Roman Catholic church as
+embodying a religion adapted only to the ignorant
+and the superstitious. But, as he looked about on
+the rapt body of worshippers, he suddenly wondered
+if there were not something in its beliefs, forms, and
+ceremonies that he had hitherto missed.
+
+The wonder grew upon him as he watched the worshippers,
+his eyes resting now on a figure of a woman
+on her knees before the small altar at his left, her half-
+naked baby flat on its back beside her; and again that
+of an unkempt gray-haired man, his clothes old and
+ragged, his body bent, his lips trembling in supplication.
+All at once, and for the first time in his life, he began
+to realize the existence of a something all-powerful, to
+which these people appealed, a something beneficent
+which swept their faces free of care, as a light drives
+out darkness, and sent them home with new hope and
+courage. Religion had played no part in his life.
+From his boyhood he had made his fight without it.
+Had they tried and failed and, disheartened in their
+failure, sought at last for higher help, realizing that
+no one man was strong enough to make the fight of
+life alone?
+
+As he asked himself these questions, the personality
+of the priest began to exert its influence over him. He
+followed his movements, the dignity and solemnity with
+which he exercised his functions, the reverential tones
+of his voice, the adoration shown in his every act and
+gesture. And as he watched there arose another question
+--one he had often debated within himself: Were
+these people about him calmed and rested by the magnetic
+personality of the big-chested, strong-armed man;
+were they aided by the seductions of music, incense,
+and color, including the very vestments that hung
+from his broad shoulders; or did the calm and rest
+and aid proceed from a source infinitely higher, more
+powerful, more compelling, as had been shown in the
+case of the would-be murderer cowed by the sight of
+a sacred emblem? And if there were two personalities,
+two influences, two dominant powers, one of man
+and the other of God, which one had he, Felix O'Day,
+come here to invoke?
+
+At this mental question, the more practical side of
+his nature came to the fore.
+
+"Neither of them," he said firmly to himself, "neither
+God nor priest." What he had come for had nothing
+to do with religion or with its forms. A woman had
+been found lying on a door-step near this church, who
+might have attended the same evening service. If so,
+Father Cruse might have seen her--no doubt knew her,
+in fact, must have both seen and recognized her. She
+was the kind of woman whom Murford said Father
+Cruse helped. What he was here for was to ask the
+priest a simple, straightforward question. This over,
+he would continue on his way.
+
+Then a sudden check arose. How was he to describe
+this woman? He had not dared probe Kitty for any
+further details than those she had given him. To waste
+therefore, the valuable time of Father Cruse with no
+more information than he at present possessed would
+be as inconsiderate as it was foolish.
+
+With this new view of the difficulty confronting him,
+he reached for his hat, so as to be ready at the first
+break in the service to tiptoe noiselessly out. He would
+then go back to Kitty and, without exciting her suspicions,
+learn something more of the outward appearance
+of the object of her tender sympathy.
+
+As he was about to leave the pew, the tones of a
+tiny bell were heard through the aisles. Instantly a
+deep, almost breathless, silence fell upon the church.
+The penitents, who were on their knees beneath the
+clusters of candles lighting the side chapels, remained
+motionless; those in the seats bowed their heads, their
+foreheads resting on the backs of the pews.
+
+As he listened with lowered head, a dull, scuffling
+sound was heard near the swinging doors of the vestibule,
+as if some one were being roughly handled. Then
+an angry voice, "she shan't go in!" followed by high-
+pitched, defiant tones: "Get out of my way. I shan't
+go in, shan't I? I'd like to see you or anybody else
+keep me out! This place is free, and so am I. Jim
+hasn't showed up, and I'm going to wait for him here.
+I've got a date."
+
+She was abreast of Felix now, a girl of twenty,
+maudlin drunk, her hat awry, her hair in a frowse,
+her dress open at the neck.
+
+She steadied herself for a moment, and became conscious
+of Felix, who had risen, horror-stricken, from
+his seat.
+
+"Jim ain't showed up. He is all right, and don't
+you forget it. Them guys wanted to give me the
+grand bounce, but I got a date, see?"
+
+She reeled on up the aisle until she reached the steps
+of the altar. There she stood, swaying before the
+lights, repeating her cry: "They dassen't touch me.
+I got a date, I tell you!"
+
+Father Cruse, without turning, continued his ministrations
+with the same composure he would have
+maintained at a baptism had its solemnity been disturbed
+by the cry of a child. By this time, several
+women, appalled by the sacrilege, left their seats and
+moved toward her, begging, then commanding, her to
+stop talking, all fearing to add to the noise yet not
+daring to let it continue, until they gently but firmly
+pushed her through the door at the end of the church
+and so on into the street.
+
+Felix had followed every movement of the girl with
+an intensity that almost paralyzed his senses. He had
+looked into her bloodshot eyes, noted the hard lines
+drawn around the corners of her mouth, the coarse,
+painted lips, dry hair, and sunken cheeks. He had
+heard her harsh laugh and caught the glint of her
+drunken leer. A cold shiver swept through him. It
+was as if he had stepped on a flat stone covering a grave
+which had tilted beneath his feet, revealing a corpse
+but a few months buried. Had he been anywhere else
+he would have sunk to the floor--not to pray, but
+to rest his knees, which seemed giving out under
+him.
+
+When service was over, he made his way down the
+aisle, waited until the last of the worshippers had had
+their final word with their priest, and, with a respectful
+bend of the head in recognition, followed Father
+Cruse into the sacristy.
+
+"You remember me?" he said in a hoarse, constrained
+voice when the priest turned and faced him.
+
+"Yes, you are Mr. O'Day--Kitty Cleary's friend, and
+I need not tell you how glad I am to see you," and he
+held out a cordial hand.
+
+"I have come as I promised you I would. Can you
+give me half an hour?"
+
+"With the greatest pleasure. My duties are over
+just as soon as I put these vestments away. But I am
+sorry you came to-night, for you have witnessed a most
+distressing sight."
+
+Felix looked at him steadily. "Do such things happen
+often?" he asked, his voice breaking.
+
+"Everything happens here, Mr. O'Day," replied the
+priest gravely; "incredible things. We once found a
+baby a month old in the gallery. We baptized him and
+he is now one of our choir-boys. But, forgive me," he
+added with a smile, "such sights are best forgotten and
+may not interest you." He was studying his visitor
+as a doctor does a patient, trying to discover the seat
+of the disease. That Felix was not the same man he
+had met the night at Kitty's was apparent; then he
+had been merely a man with a sorrow, now he seemed
+laboring under a weight too heavy to bear.
+
+Felix drew back his shoulders as if to brace himself
+the better and said: "Can we talk here?"
+
+"Yes, and with absolute privacy and freedom. Take
+this chair; I will sit beside you." It was the voice of
+the father confessor now, encouraging the unburdening
+of a soul.
+
+Felix glanced first around the simple room, with its
+quiet and seclusion, then stepped back and closed the
+sacristy door, saying, as he took his seat: "There is no
+need, I suppose, of locking it?"
+
+"Not the slightest."
+
+For a moment he sat with head bowed, one hand
+pressed to his forehead. The priest waited, saying
+nothing.
+
+"I have come to you, Father Cruse, because I need
+a man's help--not a priest's--a MAN'S. If I have made
+no mistake, you are one."
+
+The fine white fingers of the priest were rising and
+falling ever so slightly on the velvet arm of the chair on
+which his hand rested, a compound gesture showing
+that both his brain and his hand were at his listener's
+service.
+
+"Go on," he said gently and firmly. "As priest or
+man, Mr. O'Day, I am ready."
+
+Felix paused; the priest bent his head in closer attention.
+He was accustomed to halting confessions,
+and ready with a prompting word if the sinner faltered.
+
+"It is about my wife."
+
+The words seemed to choke him, as if the grip of
+a long-held silence had not yet quite relaxed its
+hold.
+
+"Not ill, I hope?"
+
+"No, she is not ill."
+
+The priest leaned forward, a startled look on his face.
+"You surely don't mean she is dead?"
+
+O'Day did not answer.
+
+Father Cruse settled back into the depths of his
+chair. "She has left you, then," he said in a conclusive
+tone.
+
+"Yes--a year ago."
+
+He stopped, started to speak, and, with a baffled
+gesture, said: "No, you might better have it all. It
+is the only way you will understand; I will begin at
+the beginning."
+
+The priest laid his hand soothingly on O'Day's wrist.
+"Take your time. I have nothing else to do except
+to listen and--help you if I can."
+
+The touch of the priest had steadied him. "Thank
+you, Father," he said simply, and went on.
+
+"A year ago, as I have said, my wife left me and
+went off with a man named Dalton. Later I learned
+she was here, and I came over to see what I could do
+to help her."
+
+Father Cruse raised his eyebrows inquiringly.
+
+"Yes, just that--to help her when she needed help,
+for I knew she would need it sooner or later. She was
+not a bad woman when she left me, and she is not now,
+unless he has made her so. She is only an easily persuaded,
+pleasure-loving woman, and when my father
+was forced into bankruptcy and we all suffered together,
+she blamed me for giving up what money I
+had in trying to straighten out his affairs; and then
+our infant daughter died, and that so upset her mind
+that when Dalton came along she let everything go.
+That is one solution of it--the one which her friends
+give out. I will tell you the truth. It is that I was
+twenty years older than she, that she loved me as a
+young girl loves an older man who had been brought
+up almost in her own family, for our properties adjoined,
+and that when she woke up, it was to find
+out that I was not the man she would have married
+had she been given a few more years' time in which
+to make up her mind.
+
+"When she ran away I lost my bearings. I used
+to sit in my room in the club for hours at a time,
+staring at the morning paper, never seeing the print;
+thinking only of my wife and our life together--all of
+it, from the day we were married. I recalled her childish
+nature, her fits of sudden temper always ending in
+tears, and her wilfulness. Then my own responsibility
+loomed up. To let this child go to the devil would
+be a crime. When this idea became firmly set in my
+mind, I determined to follow her no matter what she
+had done or where she had gone.
+
+"I had meant to go to Australia and look after
+sheep--I knew something about them--but I changed
+my plans when I overheard a conversation at my club
+and concluded that Dalton had brought her here--
+although the conversation itself was only the repetition
+of a rumor. Since then I have found out that they are
+both here, or were some six months ago.
+
+"You can understand, now, why I am living at Mrs.
+Cleary's and working in Mr. Kling's store. I had
+but a few pounds left after paying my passage and
+there was no one from whom I could borrow, even if
+I had been so disposed; so work of some kind was
+necessary. It may be just as well for me to tell you,
+too, that nobody at home knows where I am, and that
+but two persons in New York know me at all. One is a
+man named Carlin, who served on one of my father-
+in-law's vessels, and the other is his sister Martha, who
+was a nurse in my wife's family.
+
+"Dalton, so I understood, had considerable money
+when he left, enough to last him some months, and
+until yesterday I have hunted for them where I thought
+he would be sure to spend it, in the richer cafes and
+restaurants, outside the opera-houses and the fashionable
+theatres--places where two strangers in the city
+would naturally spend their evenings, and a woman
+loving light and color as she did would want to go.
+
+"All these theories were upset last night when Mrs.
+Cleary gave me some details of a woman she had picked
+up near your church. She found her, it seems, some
+months ago--last April, in fact--on the steps of a
+private house near your church--here on 29th Street
+--took her home and made her spend the night there.
+In the morning she disappeared without any one seeing
+her. Yesterday, while moving the bureau in my room,
+Mrs. Cleary found a sleeve-link on the carpet; she
+thought it was one I had dropped. I have it in my
+trunk. It is one of a pair my wife gave me on my
+birthday, the year we were married. I missed it from
+my jewel case after she left, and thought somebody
+had stolen it. Now I know that my wife must have
+taken it, and then dropped it at Mrs. Cleary's. So
+I came here tonight hoping against hope--it was so
+many months ago--to get some further information
+regarding her. Then I remembered that I had not
+asked Mrs. Cleary what the woman looked like, and
+I was about to return home, when that poor girl
+staggered in, and I got a look at her face. I lost my
+hold on myself then and--"
+
+He sprang to his feet and began striding across the
+room, his eyes blazing, one clinched fist upraised: "By
+God! Father Cruse, I know something of Dalton's
+earlier life and of what he is capable. And I tell you
+right here, that if he has brought my wife to that,
+I shall kill him the moment I set my eyes on him.
+To take a child of a woman, foolish and vain as she
+was--stupid if you will--and--" he halted, covered
+his face in his hands, and broke into sobs.
+
+During the long recital Father Cruse had neither
+spoken nor moved. He was accustomed to such outbursts,
+but it had been many years since he had seen
+so strong a man weep as bitterly. Better let the
+storm pass--he would master himself the sooner.
+
+A full minute elapsed, and then, with a groan that
+seemed to come from the depths of his being, O'Day
+lifted his head, brushed the hot tears from his eyes, and
+continued:
+
+"You must forgive me, for I am utterly broken up.
+But I can't go on any longer this way! I have got to
+let go--I have got to talk to somebody. That dear
+woman with whom I live is kindness itself and would
+do anything she could for me, but somehow I cannot
+tell her about these things. I may be wrong about it--
+but I was born that way. You know black from white
+--you live here right in the midst of it--you see it every
+day. Mr. Silas Murford told me the other night at
+Kelsey's that you knew everybody in this neighborhood,
+and so I came to you. Help me find my
+wife!"
+
+Father Cruse drew his chair closer and laid his hand
+soothingly on O'Day's knee.
+
+"It is unnecessary for me to tell you I will help you,"
+he answered in his low, smooth voice: "And now let
+us get to work systematically and see what can be
+done. I will begin by asking you a few questions.
+What sort of a looking woman is your wife?"
+
+Felix straightened himself in his chair, felt in his
+inside pocket, and took from it a colored photograph.
+"As you see, she is rather small, with fair hair, blue
+eyes, and a slight figure--the usual English type. She
+has very beautiful teeth--very white--teeth you would
+never forget once you saw them; and she has quite
+small ears and, although the picture does not show
+this, small hands and feet."
+
+"And how would she dress now? This evidently was
+taken some years ago. I mean, what was her habit
+of dress? Would it be such as an Englishwoman would
+wear?"
+
+Felix pondered. "Well, when Lady Barbara left she
+had--"
+
+An expression of surprise on the priest's face cut
+short the sentence. O'Day looked at him in a startled
+way; then he recalled his words.
+
+"Pardon me, but it is only fair that you should
+know that Lady Barbara is the daughter of Lord Carnavon,
+and that since my father's death they call me
+Sir Felix. I have never used the title here and may
+never use it anywhere. I would have assumed some
+other name when I arrived here, except that I could
+not bring myself to give up my own and my father's
+--he never did anything to disgrace it. He was caught
+in a trap, that is all, and I signed away everything I
+could to help him out. He stood by me when I was
+in India, and when he had a shilling he gave me half.
+I would rather have died, much as my wife blamed
+me, than not to have done what I did.
+
+"And I would do it all over again, although I did
+not realize how big the load was until settling-day
+came. Dalton was at the bottom of it all. He floated
+the company. There was a story going around the
+clubs that he had got me into squaring it all up, knowing
+that I would be done for, and he could get away
+with her easier, but I never believed it. He has come
+into his own, if this wretched, suffering woman that
+Mrs. Cleary picked up is my wife; and I will come
+into mine"--here his eyes flashed--"if he has dragged
+her down and--"
+
+Father Cruse again laid his quieting fingers this time
+on Felix's wrist.
+
+"He has not dragged her down, Mr. O'Day. Of that
+you may be sure. A woman of her class doesn't go to
+pieces in a year. When she reaches the end of her
+means she will either seek work or she will go to one of
+the institutions to wait until she can hear from her
+people at home. I have known--"
+
+Felix shook his head with an impatient movement.
+"You don't know her," he exclaimed excitedly, "nor
+do you know her family. Her father has shut his door
+against her, and would step across her body if he found
+it on the sidewalk rather than recognize her. Nor
+would she ask him for a penny, nor let him or me or any
+one else know of her misery."
+
+Again the priest sat silent. He did not attempt to
+defend his theory--some better way of calming his
+visitor must be found. He merely said, as if entirely
+convinced by O'Day's denial: "Oh, well, we will let
+that go, perhaps you know best"; and then added,
+his voice softening, "and now one word more, before
+we go into the details of our search, so that no complications
+may arise in the future. You, of course, are
+hunting for Lady Barbara to reinstate her as your wife
+if--"
+
+O'Day sprang from his chair and stood over the
+priest. The suggestion had come as a blow.
+
+"I will take her back!"
+
+The priest looked up in astonishment. "Yes, is it
+not so?"
+
+The answer came between closed teeth. "I did not
+expect that of you, Father Cruse, I thought you were
+bigger--MUCH bigger. Can't you understand how a
+man may want to stand by a woman for herself alone
+without dragging in his own selfishness and-- No, I
+forgot--you cannot understand--you never held a
+woman in your arms--you do not realize her many
+weaknesses, her childishness, her whims, her helplessness.
+But take her back? NEVER! That chapter in
+my life is dosed. My hunt for her all these months
+has been to save her from herself and from the scoundrel
+who has ruined her. When that is done I shall
+pick up my life as best I can, but not with her."
+
+For some seconds the priest did not speak. Then
+he said gently, again avoiding any disagreement. "Let
+us hope that so happy an ending to all your sufferings
+is not far off, my dear Mr. O'Day. And now another
+question before we part for the night, one I perhaps
+ought to have asked you before. Are you quite positive
+that Kitty's visitor was your wife?"
+
+He had reserved this hopeful suggestion--one he
+himself believed in--for the last. It would help lift
+the dead weight of bitter anxiety which was sure to
+overwhelm his visitor in the wakeful hours of the
+night.
+
+Felix moved impatiently, like one combating a
+physician's cheering words. "It must have been she,
+who else could have dropped the sleeve-link?"
+
+"Several people. Excuse me if I talk along different
+lines, but I have had a good deal of experience
+in tracing out just such things as this, and I have
+always found it safest to be sure of my facts before
+deducing theories. It is not all clear to me that Kitty's
+woman dropped the links. And even if she did, the
+fact is no proof that the woman is your wife."
+
+"But the links are mine. There is no question of it--
+my initials and arms are cut into them." The impatience
+was gone and a certain curiosity was manifesting
+itself.
+
+"Quite true, and yet you once thought the links
+were stolen. So let us presume for the present that
+they were stolen and that this woman either bought
+them, or was given them, or found them."
+
+Felix began pacing the floor, a gleam of hope illumining
+the dark corners of his heart. The interview,
+too, had calmed him--as do all confessions.
+
+The priest settled back in his seat. He saw that
+the crisis had passed. There might be another outburst
+in the future, but it would not have the intensity
+of the one he had just witnessed. He waited until
+Felix was opposite his chair and then asked, in a low
+voice: "Well, may I not be right, Mr. O'Day?"
+
+Felix paused in his walk and gazed down at the
+priest. "I don't know," he answered slowly. "My
+head is not clear enough to think it out. Mrs. Cleary
+might help unravel it. She saw her and will remember.
+Shall I sound her when I go home--not to excite her
+suspicions, of course, but so as to find out whether her
+visitor were large or small--details like that?"
+
+"No, I will ask her, and in a way not to make her
+suspect. She will think I am hunting for one of my
+own people. It is wiser that she should not know yet
+what you have told me. I would rather wait for the
+time when this poor creature, whoever she is, needs a
+sister's tenderness. She will get it there, for no finer
+woman lives than Kitty Cleary."
+
+A sigh of intense relief escaped Felix. "And now
+tell me where you will begin your hunt?" he asked,
+one of his old search-light glances flashing from beneath
+his brows.
+
+"Nowhere in particular. On the East Side, perhaps,
+where I have means of knowing what strangers come
+and go. Then among my own people here. I shall
+know within twenty-four hours whether she has been
+in the habit of attending evening service--that is,
+within the last six months. A woman of the poorer
+class would be difficult to locate, but there should not
+be the slightest trouble in picking out one who, less
+than a year ago, occupied your wife's social position--
+no matter how badly she were dressed."
+
+Felix stood musing. He had reached the limit of the
+help he had come for.
+
+"And what can I do to assist?"
+
+"Nothing. Go home, and when I need you I will
+send word. Good night."
+
+
+
+
+Chapter XIII
+
+
+
+Had Felix continued his visits to Stephen Carlin's
+shop, he might have escaped many sleepless hours and
+saved himself many weary steps.
+
+Fate had doubtless dealt him one of those unlucky
+cards which we so often find in our hands when the
+game of life is being played. If, for instance, the book
+to the right, holding the lost will, had been opened
+instead of the book to the left; or if we had caught
+the wrecked train by a minute or less; or had our
+penny come up heads instead of coming up tails: how
+many of the ills of life would have been avoided? And
+so I say that had Felix continued his visits to Stephen
+as he should have done, he would, one December afternoon,
+have found the ship-chandler standing in the
+door, spectacles on his nose, checking off a wagon-load
+of manila rope which had just been discharged
+on his pavement, stopping only to nod to the postman
+who had brought him a letter. The delay in
+breaking the seal was due entirely to the fact that a
+coil of light cordage, used aboard the yachts he was
+accustomed to fit out, had just been reported as missing,
+and so the unopened letter was tossed on top a
+barrel of sperm-oil to await his convenience. But it
+was when Stephen caught sight of the small cramped
+writing scrawled over the cheap yellow envelope, the
+stamp askew, his own name and address crowded in
+the lower left-hand corner, that the supreme moment
+really arrived, for at that instant--had Felix been there
+--he would have seen Carlin slit the covering with his
+thumb-nail, lay aside his invoice, and drop on the first
+seat within reach, to steady himself.
+
+Indeed, had Felix on this same December afternoon
+surprised him even an hour later, say at six o'clock,
+which he could very well have done, for Carlin did
+not close his shop until seven, he would have come
+upon him with the same letter in his hand, his whole
+mind absorbed in its contents, especially the last paragraph:
+"Be here at seven o'clock, sharp; don't ring
+the bell below, just rap twice and I shall know it is
+you. I have to be very careful who I let in."
+
+
+It had been several weeks since Carlin had heard
+from his sister. She had called at the store on her
+return from Canada, where she had spent the summer,
+and he had helped her find a small suite of rooms on a
+side street off St. Mark's Place, which she subsequently
+occupied, but since then she had never crossed his
+threshold. At first she had kept him advised of her
+nursing engagements--the days when her work carried
+her out of town, or the addresses of those who
+needed her in the city. These brief communications
+having entirely ceased, he had decided in his anxiety
+to look her up and, strange to say, on that very night.
+That his hand trembled and his rough, weather-browned
+face became tinged with color as he read her letter to
+the end, turning the page and reading the whole a second
+time, would have surprised anybody who knew
+the stern, silent old sailor. His clerk, a thin, long-necked
+young man wearing a paper collar and green
+necktie, noticed his agitation and guessed wrong--Carlin
+being a confirmed old bachelor. And so did the
+driver of the wagon, who had to wait for his receipt
+and who, wondering at Stephen's emotion, would have
+asked what the letter was all about had not the ship-chandler,
+after consulting his watch, crammed the
+envelope into his side pocket, jumped to his feet, and
+shouted to the Paper Collar to "roll the stuff off that
+sidewalk and get everything stowed away, as he was
+going up to St. Mark's Place."
+
+
+Here and there in the whir of the great city a restful
+breathing-spot is found, its stretch of grass dotted with
+moss-covered tombs grouped around a low-pitched
+church. At certain hours the sound of bells is heard and
+the low rhythm of the organ throbbing through the
+aisles. Then lines of quietly dressed worshippers stroll
+along the bordered walks, the children's hands fast in
+their mothers' the arched vestibule-door closing upon
+them.
+
+Most of these oases, like Trinity, St. Paul's, and St.
+Mark's, differ but little--the same low-pitched church,
+the same slender spire, the same stretch of green with
+its scattered gravestones. And, outside, the same old
+demon of hurry, defied and hurled back by a lifted hand
+armed with the cross.
+
+Of these three breathing-spaces, St. Mark's is, perhaps,
+a little greener in the early spring, less dusty in
+the summer heat, less bare and uninviting in the winter
+snow. It is more restful, too, than the others, a place
+in which to sit and muse--even to read. Out from
+its shade and sunshine run queer side streets, with
+still queerer houses, rising two stories and an attic,
+each with a dormer and huge chimney. Dried-up old
+aristocrats, these, living on the smallest of pensions,
+taking toll of notaries public, shyster lawyers, peddlers
+of steel pens, die-cutters, and dismal real-estate agents
+in dismal offices boasting a desk, two chairs, and a map.
+
+Stephen's course lay in the direction of one of these
+relics of better days--a wide-eyed house with a pieced-out
+roof, flattened like an old woman's wig over a
+sloping forehead, the eyebrows of eaves shading two
+blinking windows. A most respectable old dowager of
+a building, no doubt, in its time, with the best of
+Madeira and the choicest of cuts going down two steps
+into its welcoming basement. That was before the
+iron railings were covered with rust and before the
+three brownstone steps leading to the front door were
+worn into scoops by heavy shoes; before the polished
+mahogany doors were replaced by pine and painted a
+dull, dirty green; before the banisters with their mahogany
+rail were as full of cavities as a garden fence
+with half its palings gone; and before--long before--
+some vulgar Paul Pry had cut a skylight in the hipped
+roof, through which he could peer, taking note of whatever
+went on inside the gloomy interior: each of these
+several calamities but so much additional testimony
+to its once grand estate, and every one of them but
+so many steps in its downward career.
+
+For it had become anything but a happy house--
+this old dowager dwelling of the long ago. Indeed, it
+was a very mournful and most depressing house, and
+so were its tenants. In the basement was a barber
+who spent half his time lounging about inside the small
+door, without his white jacket, waiting for customers.
+On the first-floor-back there was a music-teacher
+whose pupils were so few and far between that only
+the shortest of lessons at the longest of intervals were
+recited on her piano; on the second-floor-front was a
+wood-engraver who took to photography to pay his
+rent. On the second-floor-back was a dressmaker who
+could not collect her bills; while in the rear was a
+laundress who washed for the tenants. Lastly, there
+was Mrs. Martha Munger, Stephen Carlin's sister,
+who occupied the third floor both front and back, over
+the laundress's quarters, the one chimney serving
+them both.
+
+While the evil eye of the skylight, despite its dishonorable
+calling, might have been put to some good
+use during the day, it can be safely said that it was of
+no earthly, and for that matter of no heavenly, use
+during the night. Nor did anything else in the way of
+illumination take its place. My Lady Dowager's patrons
+were too poor or too stingy to furnish even a
+single burner up and down the three flights. The excuse
+was that the rays of the arc-light, blazing away on the
+opposite side of the street, were not only powerful
+enough to shine through the weather-beaten hall
+door covering the entrance but, still further, to illuminate
+the rickety staircase--the very staircase up
+which Stephen Carlin was now groping in answer to
+Martha's letter.
+
+She had heard his heavy tread on the creaky steps,
+and was watching for him with the door ajar--an
+inch at first, and then wide open, her kerosene lamp
+held over the railing to give him light.
+
+"Oh, but I'm glad you've come, Stephen. I was getting
+worried. I was afraid maybe you didn't get the
+letter. It's black dark outside, isn't it?" and she
+glanced at the cheap clock on the mantel behind her.
+"Come in, the kettle was boiling over when I heard
+you. I'll talk to you in a minute."
+
+He followed with only a pressure of her hand, and,
+without a word of greeting, seated himself near a table.
+In the same quiet, silent way he watched her as she
+busied herself about the apartment, lifting the kettle
+from the stove, adjusting the wick of the lamp which
+had begun to smoke from the draft of the open door,
+taking from a shelf two cups and saucers and from a
+tin bread box a loaf and some crackers.
+
+When, in one of her journeys to and fro, she passed
+where the light of the lamp fell full upon her round face,
+framed in its white cap and long strings, he gave a
+slight start. There were dark circles below her eyes
+and heavy lines near the corners of her mouth--signs
+he had not seen since the month she had spent in the
+Marine Hospital when the plague was stamped out.
+He noticed, too, that her robust figure, with its broad
+shoulders and capacious bosom, restful pillow to many
+a new-born baby, seemed shrunken--not in weight,
+but in its spring, as if all her alertness (she was under
+fifty) had oozed out. It was only when she had completed
+her labors and taken a chair beside him, her
+soft, nursing hand covering his own, that his mind reverted
+to the tragedy which had brought him to her side.
+Even then, although she sat with her face turned
+toward his, her eyes reading his own, some moments
+passed before either of them spoke. At last, in a
+wondering, dazed way, she exclaimed: "Have you,
+in all your life, Stephen, ever heard anything like
+it?"
+
+Carlin shook his head. The letter had given him the
+facts, and no additional details could alter the situation.
+It was as if a dead body were lying in the next room
+awaiting interment; when the time came he would
+step in and look at it, ask the hour of burial, and
+step out again.
+
+"I came as soon as I'd read your letter," he said
+slowly examining one by one his rough fingers bunched
+together in his lap. "We got chuck-a-block on Second
+Avenue or I'd have been here before. Why didn't you
+let me know sooner?" As he spoke he shifted his gaze
+to the wrinkles in her throat--a new anxiety rising as he
+noticed how many more had gathered since he saw
+her last.
+
+"She wouldn't have it, and I want to tell you that
+you've got to be careful, as it is. And mind you don't
+speak too sudden to her."
+
+In answer he craned his head as if to see around the
+jamb of the door leading into the smaller room and,
+lowering his voice, whispered: "Is she here now?"
+
+"No, but she will be in a few minutes; she's often
+late, she waits until it's dark."
+
+"How long has she been here with you?"
+
+"About two weeks."
+
+"Two weeks! You didn't tell me that."
+
+"She wouldn't let me. She is having trouble enough
+and I have to do pretty much as she wants."
+
+He ruminated for a moment, this time scrutinizing
+the palms of his hands, seemingly interested in some
+callous spots near the thumb-joint, and then asked:
+"How did she find you?"
+
+"By God's mercy and nothing else. I was sitting
+in a Third Avenue car and there she was opposite. I
+couldn't believe my eyes, she was that changed! She
+would have been off the dock, I believe, if she hadn't
+found me. She has run away from Dalton now, and is
+so scared of him she trembles every time some one
+comes up the stairs. That's why I wrote you not to
+ring. He has nothing left. He kept a-hounding her
+to write to her father and nigh drove her crazy; so she
+left him."
+
+"Does she know Mr. Felix is here?" He had finished
+with the callous spots and was cracking every horny
+knuckle in his fingers as he spoke, as if their loosening
+might help solve the problem that vexed him.
+
+"No, I haven't dared tell her. She would be off the
+dock for sure then. She is more afraid of him than she
+is of Dalton."
+
+"Mr. Felix won't hurt her," he rejoined sharply.
+
+"Yes, but she knows she'd hurt HIM if he finds out
+how bad she's off. She'd rather he'd think she's living
+like she used to do. Oh, Stephen--Stephen, but
+it's a bad, bad business! I'm beat out wondering
+what ought to be done."
+
+She pushed back her chair, and began walking up
+and down the room like one whose suffering can find
+no other relief, pausing now and then to speak to him
+as she passed. "I tried to get her to listen. I told
+her Mr. Felix might be coming over from London. I
+had to put it to her that way, but she nearly went
+out of her mind, stiffened up, and began to put on such
+a wild look that I had to stop. Have you heard from
+him lately?"
+
+"No, I wrote and wrote and could get no answer.
+Then I went up to where he boarded, and the woman
+told me he'd been gone some months--she didn't
+know where. He left no word, and she forgot to get
+the name of the express that came for his trunk. He
+is down with sickness somewheres, or he'd have
+showed up. He was not himself at all when I last saw
+him--that's long before you got back from Canada.
+He's done nothing but walk the streets since he come
+ashore."
+
+Stephen stopped, as if it were too painful for him
+to continue, looked around the room, noting its bareness,
+and asked, with a break in his voice: "Where
+do you put her?"
+
+"In the little room. She wouldn't take mine and
+she won't let me help her. She got work at first on
+14th Street, in that big store near the Square, and
+worked there for a while, that was when she was with
+Dalton. But Dalton drove her out. And when she
+was near dead, with nothing to eat, some people picked
+her up and she stayed with them all night--she never
+told me where. That was last spring. She stood it for
+some months living from hand to mouth, she working
+her fingers to the bone for him, until she was afraid of
+her life and left him again. She was going she didn't
+know where when I looked at her 'cross the car and she
+saw me.
+
+"'Martha!' she cried, and was on the seat next me,
+my two arms about her. She was sobbing like a lost
+child who has found its mother again. There were two
+other women in the car, and they wanted to help, but
+I told them it was only my baby back again. We were
+near 10th Street at the time and I got her out and
+brought her here and put her to bed-- Listen! Keep
+still a moment! That's her step! Yes, thank God,
+she's alone! I'm always scared lest he should come
+with her. Get in there behind the curtain!"
+
+Martha had lifted the lamp again as she spoke, and
+was holding it over the banister, one hand down-stretched
+toward a woman whose small white fingers
+were clutching the mahogany rail, pulling herself up
+one step at a time.
+
+"Don't hurry, my child. It's a hard climb, I know.
+Give me the box. I began to get worried. Are you
+tired?"
+
+"A little. It has been a long day." She sighed as
+she passed into the room, the nurse following with a
+large pasteboard box.
+
+"It's good to get back to you," she continued, sinking
+into a chair near the mantel and unfastening her
+cloak. "The stairs seem to grow steeper every time I
+come up. Thank you. Just hang it behind the door.
+And now my hat, please." She lifted the cheap black
+straw from her head, freeing a fluff of light-golden hair,
+and with her fingers combed it back from her forehead.
+
+"And please bring me my slippers. I have walked
+all the way home, and my poor feet ache."
+
+The nurse stooped for the hat, patted the thin
+shoulders, and went into the adjacent room for the
+slippers, whispering to Carlin on her way back to
+keep hidden until she called. He was still standing
+concealed by the folds of the calico curtain dividing
+the apartment, a choke in his throat as he watched
+the frail woman, her sharpened knees outlined under
+the folds of the black dress and, below it, the edge of a
+white petticoat bespattered with mud, the whole
+figure drooping as if there were not strength enough
+along its length to hold the body upright. What
+shocked him even more were the deep-sunken eyes
+and the hollows in the cheeks and about the brows.
+All the laugh and sparkle of the once joyous, beautiful
+girl he had known were gone. Only the gentle voice
+was left.
+
+Martha was now back, kneeling on the floor, untying
+the shabby shoes, rubbing the small, delicately
+shaped feet in her plump hands to rest and warm them.
+"There, my lamb, that's better," he heard her say, as
+she drew on the heelless slippers. "I'll have tea in a
+minute. The kettle's been boiling this hour." Then,
+as though it were an afterthought: "Stephen wants
+to see you, so I told him maybe you would let him.
+Shall I tell him to come?"
+
+"Your brother, you mean? The one who lives here
+in New York?" she asked listlessly.
+
+"Yes, he's never forgotten you. And--"
+
+"Some day I will see him, Martha. I shall be better
+soon, and then--"
+
+She stopped and stared at Carlin, who misunderstanding
+Martha's words, had drawn aside the calico
+curtain and was advancing toward her, bowing as he
+walked, the choke still in his throat. "I hope your
+ladyship is not offended," he ventured. "It was all
+one family once, if I may say so, and there is only
+Martha and me."
+
+She had straightened as she saw him coming and
+then, remembering that she was in Martha's room,
+and he Martha's brother, she held out her hand. "No,
+Stephen, I am very glad. I was only a little startled.
+It is a long time since I saw you, but I remember you
+quite well, and you have not changed. A little grayer
+perhaps. When was it?"
+
+"When I came back from Calcutta, your ladyship,
+and the Rover was wrecked. Your father ordered
+the crew home. I was first mate, your ladyship remembers,
+and had to look after them. Some six years
+agone, I take it."
+
+"Yes, it all comes back to me now," she answered
+dreamily "six years--is it not more than that?"
+
+"No, your ladyship. Just about six."
+
+She paused, rested her head on her hand, and looked
+at him intently from beneath the wave of hair that had
+dropped again about her brow, and asked: "Why
+do you still call me 'your ladyship' Stephen?"
+
+"Well, I don't know, your ladyship. Mebbe it's
+because I've always been used to it. But I won't if
+your ladyship doesn't want me to."
+
+"Never mind, it does not matter. It has been so
+long since I have heard it that it sounded odd, that was
+all." She roused herself with an effort and added, in a
+brighter tone, changing the topic: "It was very good of
+you to come to see Martha. She has me to look after
+now, and I am afraid she gets unhappy at times. You
+cannot think how good she is to me--so good--so good!
+I often wake in the night dreaming I am a child again
+and stretch out my hand to her, just as I used to do
+years ago when she slept beside me. She often speaks
+of you. I am glad you came to-day."
+
+Carlin had been standing over her all the time, his
+rough pea-jacket buttoned across his broad chest, his
+ruddy sailor's face with its fringe of gray whiskers,
+bushy eyebrows, and clear, steady gaze in vivid contrast
+to her own shrinking weakness.
+
+"It ain't altogether Martha," he exclaimed in tones
+suddenly grown deliberate. "It's you, your ladyship,
+that I particular came to see. You ain't fit to take
+care of yourself, and there ain't nobody but me and
+Martha that I can lay hands on now to help--nobody
+but just us two. I'm not here to judge nobody. I
+know what's happened and what you're going through,
+and you've got to let me lend a hand. If I lived to
+be a hundred I could never forget his lordship's kindness
+to me, and things can't go on as they are with
+you. There is a way out of it if you only knew it."
+
+She threw back her head quickly. "Not my
+Father?"
+
+"No, not your father. Although his lordship
+would haul down his colors mighty quick if once he
+saw you as I do now. But there are others who
+would be glad to take a hand at the wheel and help
+you steer out of all this misery. You ain't accustomed
+to it and you don't deserve it, and I'm going
+to put a stop to it if I can." This last came with
+still greater emphasis--the first mate was speaking
+now.
+
+"Thank you, Stephen. You and Martha are very
+much alike. She has the loyalty of an old servant, and
+you have the loyalty of an old friend. But we must all
+pay for our mistakes--" she halted, drew in her breath,
+and added, picking at her dress, "--and our sins.
+Everybody condemns us but God. He is the only one
+who forgets, when we are sorry."
+
+"Not so many remember as you may think, your
+ladyship. Some of 'em have forgotten--forgotten everything
+--and are standing by ready to catch a line
+or man a boat."
+
+"Yes, there are always kind people in the world."
+
+"Well, there mayn't be such an awful lot of 'em as
+you think, but I know one. There's Mr. Felix, for
+instance, who--"
+
+She sprang to her feet, her hands held out as a
+barrier, and stood trembling, staring wildly at him, all
+the blood gone from her cheeks. "Stop, Stephen!
+Not another word. You must not mention that name
+to me. I cannot and will not permit it. I have listened
+too long already. I am very grateful for your
+kindness and for your offers to me, but you must not
+touch on my private affairs. I am earning my own living,
+and I shall continue to do so. And now I would
+like to be alone."
+
+"But, your ladyship, I've got something to tell you
+which--"
+
+Martha stepped between them. "I think, Stephen,
+you'd better not talk to her ladyship any more. You
+might come some other night when she's more rested.
+You see she's had a very bad day and--"
+
+Stephen's voice rang out clear. "Not say anything
+more, when--"
+
+Martha dug her fingers into his arm. "Hush!" she
+whispered hoarsely, her lips close against his hairy
+cheek. "She'll be on the floor in a dead faint in a
+minute. Didn't I tell you not to mention his name?"
+
+She stepped quickly to the side of her charge, who
+had walked falteringly toward the window and now
+stood peering into the darkness through the panes of
+the dormer.
+
+"It's only Stephen's way, child, and you mustn't
+mind him. He doesn't mean anything. He hasn't seen
+much of women, living aboard ship half his life. It's
+only his way of trying to be kind. And you see he's
+known you from a baby, same as me--and that's why
+he lets out."
+
+She had folded the pitiful figure in her arms, her
+hand patting the bent shoulders. "But we'll get on
+together, my lamb--you and me. And we'll have
+supper right away-- And I must ask you, Stephen,
+to go, now, because her ladyship is worn out and I'm
+going to put her to bed."
+
+Carlin picked up his hat and stood fingering the rim,
+trying to make up his mind whether he should force
+the truth upon her then or obey orders and wait. The
+training of long years told.
+
+"Well, just as you say, your ladyship, I won't stay
+if you don't want me, but don't forget I'm within call,
+not more than a half-hour away. All Martha's got
+to do is to send a postal card and I'm here. I'm sorry
+I hurt your feelings. God knows I didn't mean to!
+Martha knows what I wanted to tell you. You'll have
+to come to it sooner or later. Good night. I hope your
+ladyship will be rested in the morning. Good night,
+Martha. You know you can write when you want me.
+Good night again, your ladyship."
+
+He opened the door softly, closed it behind him
+without a sound, placed his hat on his head, and, reaching
+out for the hand-rail, felt his way in the dark down
+the rickety stairs and out onto the sidewalk.
+
+Once there, he looked up and down the street as if
+undecided, turned sharply, and bent his steps toward
+Second Avenue, muttering to himself over and over
+again as he walked: "I got to find Mr. Felix. I got
+to find Mr. Felix."
+
+
+
+
+Chapter XIV
+
+
+
+Felix O'Day's runaway wife, despite the many quiet
+hours spent in Martha's room, near St. Mark's Place,
+had not told her old nurse all her story. She had
+wept her heart out on the dear woman's shoulder
+and had cuddled close in her arms, giving her scraps
+and bits of her unfortunate history, with side-lights
+here and there on a misery so abject and so terrifying
+that the dear nurse had hugged the frail figure all
+the tighter, seeing only the wound and knowing nothing
+of the steps that had led up to the final blow or
+the anger that hastened it.
+
+Martha had known, of course, that there had been
+bankruptcy and ruin; that Oakdale, the ancestral
+estate of the O'Days--theirs for two centuries, with
+all its priceless old furniture, tapestries, pictures, and
+porcelains--had, after the owner's death, been sold at
+public auction; that Fernlodge, Mr. Felix's own home,
+had gone in the same way; that Lady Barbara,
+for some reason, had returned to her father, Lord
+Carnavon; that the girl baby had died; and that
+"Mr. Felix," as she always called him, had gone to
+London where he had taken up his abode at his club.
+Lady Barbara herself had given these details in a letter
+written a couple of weeks after the death of the child,
+Martha being in Toronto at the time.
+
+Martha had also learned, through a letter from the
+head gardener's wife, that after a few months' stay,
+Lady Barbara had left her father's house because of a
+fierce scene with Lord Carnavon, who had sent for his
+carriage, conducted her into it, and given directions
+to his coachman either to set his daughter down on the
+main road, outside his gates, or to take her to the
+nearest public house.
+
+She had learned, too, that her former charge, after
+having eloped with Dalton, had dropped entirely out of
+sight and, so far as her own knowledge was concerned,
+had never come to light again until, with a cry of joy,
+Lady Barbara sank sobbing on her shoulder in that
+Third Avenue car.
+
+Much of this information had been gathered from
+newspaper clippings that her old uncle, living in London,
+had mailed to her. More particulars had come
+in a letter from James Muldoon, one of the grooms
+at Oakdale, who gave a most pitiful and graphic account
+of the way the London dealers crowded about the
+old porcelains in the ebony cabinets, and of the prices
+paid by the Earl of Brinsmore, who bought most of
+the pictures, half of the old Spanish furniture, as well
+as the largest but one of the great tapestries, to enrich
+the new mansion he was then building in London and in
+which James Muldoon was happy to say he had been
+promised a place.
+
+In still other letters, open references had also been
+made to a much discussed speculation, entangling
+many of those whom Martha had formerly known,
+followed by a grand financial explosion in which some
+of the same people had been badly injured. In connection
+with these disasters mention was likewise
+made of a certain Mr. Dalton, who had disappeared
+shortly after, leaving rather a bad name behind him,
+altogether undeserved, according to many of the
+papers, he always having been a "financier of the
+highest standing." This last ball of gossip was rolled
+Martha's way by her nephew, who was a clerk in a
+solicitor's office off the Strand and who had mailed
+an editorial on the matter to his uncle, who promptly
+forwarded it to Martha. She had read it carefully
+to the end and had put it in her drawer without at first
+grasping the full meaning of the fact that, but for the
+activities of this same Mr. Dalton, her dear mistress
+and her dear mistress's husband, Felix O'Day, and her
+dear mistress's father-in-law, the late Sir Carroll O'Day,
+would still be in possession of their ancestral estates
+and in undisturbed enjoyment of whatever happiness
+they, individually and collectively, could get out of life.
+
+What the dear woman never knew, and it was just
+as well that she did not, were the special happenings
+which ended in the overwhelming catastrophe.
+
+It really began with a tea basket, holding enough
+for two, which was opened one lovely afternoon under
+the big willows skirting that little strip of land bordering
+the backwater at Cookham-on-Thames. My lady
+at the time was wearing a wide leghorn hat with blue
+ribbons that matched her eyes and set off the roses in
+her fair English cheeks. Her companion was in white
+flannels--a muscular, well-set-up young man of thirty,
+fifteen years younger than her husband and with twice
+his charm--one of those delightful companions who
+possess the rare quality of making an hour seem but
+five minutes. A gay party had dropped down the
+river in her father's launch, which had been tied up at
+Ferry Inn, and Dalton had insisted on taking my lady
+for just a half-hour's poling in a punt, Felix and the
+others preferring to take their tea at the Inn--plans
+readily agreed to and carried out, except that the
+half-hour prolonged itself into two whole ones.
+
+Then there had come a week-end at Glenmore Castle
+and a garden party outside London, and then five-o'clock
+teas at half a dozen private houses, including
+one or two meetings a trifle more secluded. And all
+quite as it should be, for a most desirable and valuable
+guest was this same Mr. Guy Dalton, a man received
+everywhere with open arms, as "one of the rising men
+of the time, my dear sir," a financier of distinction,
+indeed, and a promoter of such skill that he had only
+to issue a prospectus, or wink knowingly on the street,
+or take you aside at the club and whisper confidentially
+to you, when everything he had issued, winked at,
+or whispered about would go up with a rush, and
+countless men and women--a goodly number were
+women--would be hundreds, nay, thousands of pounds
+the richer before the week was out.
+
+That his own buoyant imagination, as well as that
+of those who followed his lead, should have been
+stretched to the utmost was quite within the possibilities
+when one recollects that the basis of all this wealth
+was crude rubber, a substance of pronounced elasticity.
+This, too, accounts for the vim and suddenness of the
+final recoil attending the final collapse--a recoil which
+smashed everything and everybody within its reach.
+
+There were "words," of course, between Dalton and
+some of his victims. There always are "words" when
+the ball bounces back and you catch it full in the eye.
+And for salves and soothing plasters there were the
+customary explanations regarding the state of the
+market, the tightness of money, the non-arrival of
+important details, the delaying of despatches owing to
+a break in the cable, together with offers of heavy discounts,
+and increased allotments of stock for renewed
+subscriptions. But the end came, just as it always does.
+
+And so did the aftermath, as was shown by the advertisements
+in the auction columns of the daily papers
+and the motley mob of hungry, perspiring dealers,
+pawing over the household gods; and, more disastrous
+still, because of its rarity, Felix's brave fight to save his
+father's name, the whole struggle ending in his own
+ruin.
+
+As for the very pretty young woman who had been
+wearing the hat with blue ribbons, it may be as well
+to remark that when the milk in the heart of a woman
+has become slightly curdled, it is to be expected that,
+under certain exciting influences, the whole will turn
+sour. When to this curdling process is added the
+loss of her child and her fortune, calamities made all
+the more insupportable by reason of an interview
+lasting an hour in which her two hot hands were held
+in those of a sympathetic man of thirty, her cheeks
+within an inch of his lips, the quickest--in fact, the
+only way--yes, really the only way, to prevent any
+further calamity is to put your best gown in your best
+dressing-case, catch up your jewels, and exchange your
+husband's roof for that of your father's. And this is
+precisely what my lady did do, and there in her father's
+house she stayed, despite the entreaties of her own
+and her father's friends.
+
+"And why not?" she had argued, with flashing
+eyes: "I am without a shilling of my own, owing to the
+Quixotic ideas of my husband, who, without thinking of
+me, has beggared himself to pay his father's debts.
+And that, too, just when I need to be comforted most.
+He does not care how I suffer; and now that my father
+has offered me a home, I will lead my own life, surrounded
+by the few friends who have loved me for
+myself alone."
+
+That the eminent financier--it might be better perhaps
+to say the LATE eminent financier--was one of those
+same unselfish beings who had "loved her for herself
+alone," and that he had, at once and without the delay
+of an hour, flown to her side followed as a matter
+of course, as did the gossip, men and women in and
+about the clubs and drawing-rooms nodding meaningly
+or hinting behind their hands.
+
+"Rather rough on O'Day," the men had agreed.
+"That comes of marrying a woman young enough to be
+your daughter." "She ought to have known better,"
+was the verdict of the women. "So many other ways
+of getting what you want without making a scandal,"
+this from a duchess from behind her fan to a divorcee.
+But few words of sympathy for the deserted husband
+escaped any of them and, except from his old servants,
+Felix allowed himself to receive none.
+
+He had made no move to win her back. To him
+she was, at the worst, only the same wilful and spoiled
+child she had always been, while he was over twenty
+years her senior. What he hoped for was that her
+common sense, her breeding, and her pride would
+come to the rescue, and that after her pique had spent
+itself, she would become once more the loving wife.
+
+And it is quite possible that this hope might have
+been realized had it not been for one of those unfortunate
+and greatly to be regretted concurrences which
+so often precede if they do not precipitate many of
+life's catastrophes.
+
+One of Lord Carnavon's grooms was the unfortunate
+match that caused this explosion. He had been
+sent down to Dorsetshire for a horse and, in an out-of-
+the-way inn in one corner of the county, had stumbled
+--early the next morning--into a cosey little sitting-room.
+When he came to his senses--he never recovered
+the whole of them until he was safe once more
+inside his lordship's stables--he told, with bulging
+eyes and bated breath, what he had seen. Whereupon
+the head coachman forthwith informed his wife, who
+at once poured it into the ears of the housekeeper, who,
+being jealous of my lady, fearing her dominance, lost
+no time in amplifying the details to Lord Carnavon.
+That gentleman had walked his library the rest of the
+night and, on my lady's return from Scotland, two
+mornings later (she had "spent the night with her
+aunt"), had denounced her in tones so shrill that every
+word was heard at the end of the long gallery; the
+tirade, to his lordship's amazement, being cut short by
+his daughter's defiant answer: "And why not, if I love
+him?"
+
+All of which accounts for the infamous order roared
+five minutes later by the distinguished nobleman to
+his coachman, who, having known her ladyship from
+a child and loved her accordingly, had not set her
+down on the main road, but had taken her to a cottage
+on an adjoining estate--her second change of
+roofs--from whence Dalton carried her off next day
+to Ostend, a refuge she had herself selected, the season
+there being then at its height.
+
+Had either of them kept a diary, it is safe to say
+that the delirious hours which filled that first week
+at Ostend would have been checked off in gold letters.
+Neither of them had ever been so blissfully happy,
+nor so passionately enamoured of the other, nor so
+overjoyed that the dreary past, with all its misunderstandings,
+calumnies, and injustice, had been wiped
+out forever.
+
+There had, of course, been a few colorless moments.
+On a certain Saturday, for instance, the eminent ex-financier,
+having lost his head after the manner of
+some born gamblers, had, at the Casino, played the
+wrong number--a series of wrong numbers, in fact--
+an error which resulted in his pushing a crisp bundle
+of Bank of England notes--almost all he had with
+him--toward the spidery hands of a suave gentleman
+with rat eyes and bloodless face, who gathered them
+up with a furtive, deadly smile.
+
+The gold Letters might have been omitted here, and,
+in their stead, my lady could have made a common
+pinhole to remind her, if she ever cared to remember,
+that it was on that very night that her passionately
+enamoured lover had helped her unfasten from her
+throat a string of pearls which O'Day had given her,
+and which, strange to say, for a woman so injured,
+so maligned, and so misunderstood, she, with Dalton's
+advice, had carried off when she deserted both her
+husband and her husband's bed and board. And
+she might have inserted just below the pinhole the
+illuminating note that, after unfastening the string,
+Dalton had forgotten to return it.
+
+And then there had come an August morning--the
+following Monday, to be exact--when, his coffee untasted,
+he had sat staring at a paragraph in the financial
+column of a London paper, not daring to lay it down
+for fear she would pick it up. It gave a full and detailed
+account of the discovery of a series of certificates
+bearing duplicate numbers, said duplicates claiming to
+be the genuine shares of the Bawhadder Rubber Co.,
+Ltd. It also hinted at a searching investigation about
+to be made by a financial committee of the highest
+standing at its next regular meeting, but a few days off.
+More important still was a crisp editorial, charging the
+directors of the aforesaid company, and particularly
+its promoter--name withheld--with irregularities of
+the gravest import.
+
+And it was on this same Monday morning--another
+pinhole, made with a big black pin would serve best
+here--before the stone-cold coffee and the dry, uneaten
+toast had been sent away, that there had arrived a
+most important telegram (that is, Dalton had SAID it
+had arrived) ordering him back to London on business
+of the UTMOST IMPORTANCE. So urgent were the
+summons that he was forced to leave at once--so he
+explained to the manager of the hotel--and as madame
+wished to avoid the night journey by way of Ostend
+--the channel being almost always rough, even in
+summer, and she easily disturbed--he had decided
+to take the shorter and more comfortable route, and
+would the urbane and obliging gentleman please
+secure two tickets to London by way of Calais and
+Dover? This would give them a day in Paris at
+the house of a friend, and the next morning would
+see them safely landed in London, in ample time for
+the business in question.
+
+The pins can be dispensed with now; so can the
+pencil and so can any special entries. Henceforth life
+for these two exiles was to be one long toboggan slide,
+with every post they passed marking a lower level.
+The sled with its occupants made no stop at Paris nor
+did it go by way of Calais nor did it reach Dover. It
+swooped on down to Havre, the steamer sailing an
+hour after the train arrived, crossed the ocean at full
+speed, and dumped its two passengers one hot August
+night in front of a cheap and inconspicuous hotel on
+the East Side, New York, where Mr. and Mrs. Stanton,
+from Toronto, Canada, would he at home, should anybody
+call--which, it is quite safe to say, nobody ever
+did.
+
+No, nothing of all this did the heart-broken woman
+tell the tender old nurse, who had carried her in her
+arms many a night, and who was now willing to
+sacrifice everything she possessed to give her mistress
+one hour of peace.
+
+Nor did she tell of the shock which she, a woman of
+quality, had received when she entered the two cheaply
+furnished rooms, her only shelter for months, and which,
+to a woman accustomed from babyhood to a luxurious
+home and the care of attentive and loyal servants, had
+affected her more keenly than anything that had yet
+happened.
+
+Neither did she confide into the willing ears of the
+sympathetic woman the details of her gradual awakening
+from Dalton's spell as his irritability, cowardice,
+and selfishness became more and more apparent.
+Nor yet of her growing anxiety as their resources
+declined; an anxiety which had so weighed upon her
+mind that she could neither sleep nor rest, despite
+his continued promises of daily remittances that never
+came and his rose-colored schemes for raising money
+which never materialized.
+
+Neither did she uncover the secret places of her
+own heart, and tell the old nurse of the fight she had
+made in those earlier days when she had faced the
+situation without flinching; nor of her stubborn
+determination to still fight on to the end. She had
+even at one time sought to defend him against herself.
+All men had their weaknesses, she had reasoned; Guy
+had his. Moreover, the crash had been none of his
+doing. He had been deceived by false reports instigated
+by his enemies, including her own father-in-law and--
+yes, her husband as well, who could have avoided the
+catastrophe had he followed Guy's advice, and persuaded
+Sir Carroll O'Day to hold on to his shares.
+How, then, could she desert him, poor as he was and
+with the world against him? She had been untrue to
+everything else. Could she not redeem herself by
+being at least true to her sin?
+
+What she did tell Martha, and there was the old
+ring in her voice as she spoke, was of her refusal to
+yield to Dalton's presistent entreaties to write to her
+father for sufficient money to start him in a new
+enterprise which, with "even his limited means"--
+thus ran the letter she was to copy and sign--"was
+already exceeding his most sanguine expectations,
+and which, with a few thousand pounds of additional
+capital, would yield enormous returns." And she
+might have added that so emphatic had been her
+refusal that, for the first time in all their intercourse,
+Dalton's eyes had been opened to something he had
+never realized in her before, the quality of the blood
+that runs in some Englishwomen's veins--this time
+the blood of the Carnavons, who for two centuries
+had been noted for their indomitable will.
+
+Her defiance had seemed all the more remarkable
+to him because as he well knew their combined resources
+were dwindling. She had, in fact, only a few
+finger-rings left, together with some cheap trinkets;
+among them a pair of sleeve-buttons then in her cuff's,
+a pair which she had given Felix and which she found
+in her jewel-box the day after she left him, and which
+she had determined to return until she realized how
+small was their value.
+
+The rest of her sad story came by fits and starts.
+
+With her head on Martha's shoulder she told of the
+horror of that rainy April night when, with agonized
+hands against her hot cheeks, she had heard him
+stumbling up the narrow stairs staggering drunk,
+lunging through the door, and falling headlong at
+her feet. Of the deadly fear born in her, for the first
+time in her life, she, helpless and alone, without a
+human being to whom she could appeal, not daring
+to disclose her own identity lest graver results might
+follow; he, prostrate before her, naked to his inmost
+bone, with all his perfidy exposed. Of his cursing
+her conscientious scruples and family pride, her
+milk-and-water principles, demanding again that she
+should write her father and that very night, ending
+his entreaties with a blow of his fiat hand on her
+cheek which sent her reeling toward her narrow bed.
+
+She had watched her chance, caught up her hat and
+cloak, and had slipped down-stairs, avoiding the crowd
+about the side-door, and had then fled as if for her life,
+to be found an hour later by an expressman's wife, who
+had put her to bed with a kindness and tenderness she
+had not known since she left her husband's roof.
+
+Then there had followed a long, weary day's search
+for work, ending at last in defeat when, disheartened
+and footsore, she had dragged herself once more up the
+hotel stairs, with another tightening of her resolution
+to fight it out to the end.
+
+Greatly to her surprise, Dalton had received her
+with marked politeness. He had begged her forgiveness,
+pleading that his nerves had been upset by
+his financial troubles. With his arm around her, he
+had told her how young and pretty she still was, and
+how sad it made him when he thought he had ruined
+her life and brought her all these weary miles from
+home, his contrition being apparently so genuine,
+that she had determined to trust him once more, and
+would have told him so had she not gone into her
+room to change her dress, only to find that he had
+pawned the few remaining trinkets and articles of
+wearing-apparel she possessed, in order to try his
+luck in a neighboring pool-room.
+
+She had realized, then, where she stood. There was
+but one thing for her to do and that was to hunt again
+for work. She had been an expert needlewoman in her
+better days and this knowledge might earn her their
+board.
+
+With this in her mind, she had consulted a woman,
+living on the floor above, who had often spoken to her
+when they passed each other on the stairs, and who
+was employed in a department store on 14th Street
+near Broadway, the result being that Stiger & Company
+had given "Mrs. Stanton" a place in the repair
+shop, her wages being equal to her own and Dalton's
+board. This had continued all through the summer,
+her earnings keeping the roof over their heads, Dalton
+leaving her for days at a time, his invariable excuse
+for his absence being that he was "trying to get
+employment."
+
+Finally--and again her eyes burned, and the color
+mounted to her hot cheeks as she reached this part
+of her story--there had come that last awful, unforgettable
+December night.
+
+She had come home from work and had put on a
+thin silk wrapper, too well worn for pawning, when
+the door of their little sitting-room was opened and
+Dalton entered, bringing two men with him. One
+of them kept his hat on as he talked, the other slouched
+his from his head after he had taken a seat and had had
+a chance to look her over. The three had come upon
+her suddenly, and she, realizing her dishabille, had
+risen hastily, excusing herself, when Dalton, who was
+half tipsy, stepped between her and her bedroom door.
+
+"No, you'll stay here," he had cried; "you're
+prettier as you are. I never saw you so fetching.
+Don't mind them, they're friends of mine. We've
+ordered up something to drink."
+
+She had stood trembling, looking from one to the
+other, her heart hammering wildly. No man had ever
+addressed her with such insolence and before such company.
+What she feared was that something would
+snap in her and she fall fainting to the floor.
+
+"I will change my dress," she had answered firmly,
+speaking slowly to hide her terror. She was Lord
+Carnavon's daughter now.
+
+"No, I tell you, Barbara--I--"
+
+There was something in her eyes that told him he
+had reached the limit of her forbearance. Beyond
+that there was danger.
+
+She had glided past him, shut and locked her bedroom
+door, struggled with bungling fingers into her walking-dress,
+pinned on her hat, thrown an old silk waterproof
+around her shoulders, had slid back the bolt of her
+chamber opening into the hall, crept down the steps,
+and fled.
+
+Ten minutes later Martha's arms were about her,
+and she sobbing on her old nurse's shoulder.
+
+
+
+
+Chapter XV
+
+
+
+The day following Stephen's visit was one of many
+spent by Lady Barbara in working at "home," as she
+called the simple apartment in which Martha had
+given her shelter.
+
+With the aid of a shop-girl whose mother Martha
+had known, she had found employment at Rosenthal's,
+on upper Third Avenue. There had been need of an
+expert needlewoman in a department recently opened,
+and Mangan, in charge of the work, had taken her name
+and address. The repairing of rare laces had been one
+of her triumphs when a girl, she having placed an inset
+in the middle of an old piece of Valenciennes which had
+deceived even the experts at Kensington Museum.
+And so, when one of Rosenthal's agents had looked up
+her lodgings, had seen Martha, and noted "Mrs.
+Stanton's" quiet refinement, he had at once given her
+the place. She had retained, with Martha's advice, the
+name that Dalton had assumed for her on her arrival
+in New York, and Rosenthal's pay-roll and messengers
+knew her by no other.
+
+These days at home bad been gradually extended,
+her employer finding that she could work there more
+satisfactorily, and of late the greater part of each week
+had been spent in the small suite of rooms in St. Mark's
+Place--much to Martha's delight, who had arranged
+her own duties so as to be with her mistress. The good
+woman had long since given up night-nursing, and the
+few patrons dependent upon her during the day had had
+to be content with an "exchange," which she generally
+managed to obtain, there being one or two of the
+fraternity on whom she could call.
+
+And these days, in spite of the sorrow hovering over
+her charge, Martha never found wholly unhappy.
+They constantly reminded her of the good times at
+Oakdale when she used to bring in her young mistress's
+breakfast. She could recall the dainty, white egg-shell
+china, the squat silver service bearing the Carnavon
+arms, and the film of lace which she used to throw
+around her ladyship's shoulders, lifting her hair to give
+it room. The butler would bring the tray to the door,
+and Martha would carry it herself to the bedside,
+where she would be met with the cry, "Must I get up?"
+or the more soothing greeting of, "Oh, you good Martha
+--well, give me my wrapper!"
+
+The delicate porcelain and heirloom silver were missing
+now, and so was the filmy lace, but the tired mistress,
+could sleep as long as she pleased, thank Heaven!
+and the same loving care be given her. And the
+meal could be as nicely served, even though the thick
+cup cost but a penny and the tea was poured from
+an earthen pot kept hot on the stove.
+
+Martha's deft hands relieved her mistress, too, of
+many other little necessary duties, such as the repair
+of her clothes; having them carefully laid out for the
+morning so that the nap might be prolonged and time
+be given for the care of the beautiful hair and frail
+hands; helping her dress; serving her breakfast, and
+getting her ready for the day's work. These services
+over, Martha would move the small pine table close to
+the sill of the window, where the light was better,
+spread a clean white towel over its top, and sit beside
+her while she sewed.
+
+This restful, almost happy, life had been rudely
+shaken, if not entirely wrecked, by Stephen's visit.
+Up to that time, Lady Barbara--who had been nearly
+three weeks with Martha--had not only delighted in
+her work, but had shown an enviable pride in keeping
+pace with her employer's engagements, often working
+rather late into the night to finish her allotment on
+time.
+
+The particular work uppermost in her mind on the
+night Stephen had called was the repairing of a costly
+Spanish mantilla which had been picked up in Spain
+by one of Rosenthal's customers. Through the carelessness
+of a packer, it had been badly slashed near the
+centre--an ugly, ragged tear which only the most skilful
+of needles could restore. Mangan, some days before,
+had given it to her to repair with special instructions
+to return it at a given time, when he had agreed to
+deliver it to its owner. It was with a sudden gripping
+of her heart, therefore, that Martha on her return
+from an errand at noon had found the mantilla,
+promised for that very afternoon at three o'clock,
+lying neglected on the table, Lady Barbara sitting by
+the window with listless hands and drooping head. She
+grew still more anxious when at the appointed hour
+Rosenthal's messenger rapped at the door and stood
+silently waiting, his presence voicing the purpose of
+his mission, and she heard her mistress say, without
+an attempt at explanation: "I am sorry, tell Mr.
+Mangan, but the Spanish mantilla is not finished.
+Some of the other pieces are ready, but you need not
+wait. I cannot stop now, even to do them up properly,
+but I will bring the mantilla myself to-morrow. Please
+say so to Mr. Mangan."
+
+The extreme lassitude of her manner only added to
+Martha's anxiety and, as the afternoon wore on, she
+watched Lady Barbara's every move with ever-increasing
+alarm. Now and then her poor mistress
+would drop her needle, turn her face to the window,
+and look out into vacancy, her mouth quivering as
+if with some inward thought which she had neither
+the will nor the desire to voice aloud.
+
+As the hours lengthened, this mental absorption and
+growing physical weariness were followed by a certain
+nervous tension, so pronounced that the nurse, accustomed
+to various forms of feminine breakdowns,
+had already determined what remedies to use should
+the symptoms increase.
+
+That Stephen's visit was responsible for this condition,
+she now no longer doubted. What she had
+intended as a relief had only complicated the situation.
+And yet in going over all that had happened
+and all that was likely to happen, she became more than
+ever convinced that either his visit must be repeated,
+or that she alone must make the announcement that
+had trembled on Stephen's lips. She had recognized,
+almost from the first, that despite the relief her mistress
+had enjoyed in the little apartment some strong,
+masculine hand and mind were needed to stem the
+tide of further disaster. Her own practical common
+sense also told her that their present way of living
+was far too precarious to be counted upon. Lady
+Barbara's position with Rosenthal was but temporary.
+At any moment it might be lost, and then would follow
+another dreary hunt for work, with all its rebuffs, and
+sooner or later the delicately nurtured woman would
+succumb and go under in a mental or physical collapse,
+the hospital her only alternative.
+
+None of these forebodings, it must be said, had filled
+Lady Barbara's mind. As long as she continued under
+Martha's care she could rest in peace, free from the
+dread of the drunken step on the stair or the rude
+bursting in of her chamber door. Free, too, from other
+deadly terrors which had pursued her, and of which she
+could not even think without a shudder, for try as
+she could she never forgot Dalton's willingness to
+turn their home into a gamblers' resort.
+
+That he would force her to return to him for any
+other purpose she did not believe. He had no legal
+hold upon her--such as an Englishman has upon his
+wife--and, as he had pawned everything of value she
+possessed and most of her clothes, she could be of no
+further use to him, except by applying to her father
+or to her friends for pecuniary relief. This, as she
+had told him, she would rather die than do, and from
+the oaths he had muttered at the time she was convinced
+he believed her.
+
+All she wanted now was to earn her bread, help
+Martha with her rent, and, when the day's work was
+over, creep into her arms and rest.
+
+And yet, while it was true that Stephen's visit had
+been responsible for her nervous breakdown, it was not
+for the reason that Martha supposed. His reference
+to her private affairs had of course offended her, and
+justly so, but there was something else which hurt her
+far more--a something in the old ship-chandler's
+manner when he spoke to her which forced to the
+front a question ever present in her mind, whatever
+her task and however tender the ministrations of the
+old nurse; one that during all her sojourn under this
+kindly roof had haunted her, like a nightmare.
+
+And it was this. What did the look mean that she
+sometimes surprised in Martha's eyes--the same look
+she had detected in Stephen's? Were they looks of
+pity or were they--and she shuddered--looks of scorn?
+This was the nightmare which had haunted her, the
+problem she could not fathom.
+
+And because she could not fathom it, she had passed
+a wakeful night, and this long, unhappy day. This
+mystery must end, and that very night.
+
+When the shadows fell and the evening meal was
+ready, she put away her work, smoothed her hair
+and took her seat beside the nurse, eating little and
+answering Martha's anxious, but carefully worded
+questions in monosyllables. With the end of the
+meal, she pushed back her chair and sought her bedroom,
+saying that, if Martha did not mind, she would
+throw herself on her bed and rest awhile.
+
+She lay there listening until the last clink of the
+plates and cups and the moving of the table told her
+that the evening's work was done and the things put
+away; then she called:
+
+"Martha, won't you come and sit beside me, so that
+you can brush out my hair? I want to talk to you.
+You need not bring the lamp, I have light enough."
+
+Martha hurried in and settled herself beside the
+narrow bed. Lady Barbara lifted her head so that
+the tresses were free for Martha's hands, and sinking
+back on the pillow said almost in a whisper: "I have
+been thinking of your brother, and want your help.
+What did he mean when he said that things could not
+go on as they were with me? And that he was going
+to put a stop to them if he could?"
+
+Martha caught herself just in time. She was not
+ready yet to divulge her plans for her mistress's relief,
+and the question had taken her unawares. "He never
+forgets, my lady, what he owes your people," she answered
+at last. "And when he saw you, he was so
+sorry for you he was all shrivelled up."
+
+She had the mass of blonde hair in her fingers now,
+the comb in hand prepared to straighten out the
+tangle.
+
+For a moment Lady Barbara lay still, then turning
+her cheek, her eyes fixed on Martha's, she said in firmer
+tones: "You are to tell me the truth, you know; that
+is why I sent for you."
+
+"I have told it, my lady."
+
+"And you are keeping nothing back?"
+
+"Nothing."
+
+The thin hand crept out and grasped the nurse's
+wrist.
+
+"Then you are sure your brother does not despise
+me, Martha?"
+
+"MY LADY! How can you say such a thing!" exclaimed
+Martha, dropping the comb.
+
+"Well, everybody else does--everybody I know--
+and a great many I never saw and who never saw me.
+And now about yourself--and you must tell me
+frankly--do you hate me, Martha?"
+
+"Hate you, you poor Lamb"--tears were now choking
+her--"you, whom I held in my arms?-- Oh, don't
+talk that way to me--I can't stand it, my lady! Ever
+since you were a child, I--"
+
+"Yes, Martha, that is one reason for my asking you.
+You did love me as a child--but do you love me as a
+woman? A child is forgiven because it knows no
+better; a woman DOES know. Tell me, straight from
+your heart; I want to know; it will not make any difference
+in the way I love you. You have been everything
+to me, father, mother--everything, Martha.
+Tell me, do you forgive me?"
+
+"I have nothing to forgive, my lady," she answered,
+her voice clearing, her will asserting itself. "You have
+always been my lady and you always will be. Maybe
+you'd better not talk any more--you are all tired out,
+and--"
+
+"Oh, yes, I will talk and you must Listen. Don't
+pick up my comb. Never mind about my hair now.
+I know very well that there is not a single human being
+at home who would not shut the door in my face. Some
+of them do not understand, and never will, and I
+should never try to explain my life to them. I have
+suffered for my mistakes and made myself an outcast,
+and nobody has any compassion for an outcast. That
+is why I sit and wonder about Stephen, and why I
+have sat all day and wondered about you, and whether
+I ought to run away, for I could not stay here if you
+felt about me as I know those people feel at home. I
+want you to love me, Martha. Oh! yes, you prove it.
+You do everything for me, but way down deep in your
+heart, how do you feel? Do you love me as you always
+did?--LOVE, Martha, not just pity, or feeling sorry like
+Stephen, or blaming me like the others? Yes, yes, yes,
+I know it, but I have wanted you to tell me. I am so in
+the dark. There, there, don't cry! Just one thing more.
+What did your brother mean when be said there were
+others who would lift me out of my misery?"
+
+Again the old servant, brushing away her tears,
+hesitated to reply. She had sent for Stephen to answer
+this very question, and her mistress had practically
+driven him from the room. How, then, was she to
+meet it?
+
+"He meant Mr. Felix, and if you had only listened,
+my lady, be would have--"
+
+"Yes, I knew he did--although he did not dare say
+it," she cried with sudden intensity, sinking deeper back
+in her pillow as if to protect herself even from Martha.
+"I did not listen, for I never want to hear his name
+again. He drove me to what I did. He let me leave
+his house without so much as a word of regret, and not
+one line did he write me the whole time I was at
+my father's. Two months, Martha! TWO--WHOLE--MONTHS!"
+The words seemed to clog in her throat.
+"All that time he hid himself in his club, abusing me
+to every man he met. Somebody told me so. What
+was I to do? He had turned over to his father every
+shilling he possessed and left me without a penny--or,
+worse still, dependent on my father, and you know
+what that means! And then, when I could stand it
+no longer and went home, he sailed for South Africa
+on a shooting expedition."
+
+Martha listened patiently. The outburst was not
+what she had expected, but she knew the unburdening
+would help in the end. She slid one plump hand
+under the tired head, and with the other stroked back
+the mass of hair from the damp forehead--very
+gently, as she might have calmed some fevered
+patient.
+
+"May I finish what Stephen tried to tell you, my
+lady?" she crooned, still stroking back the hair. "And
+may I first tell you that Mr. Felix never went to
+Africa?"
+
+"Oh, but he did!" she cried out again. "I know
+the men he went with. He was disgusted with the
+whole business--so he told one of his friends--and
+never wanted to see me or England again."
+
+"You are sure?"
+
+"Yes, I heard about it in Ostend when--" She did
+not finish the sentence.
+
+The nurse's free hand now closed on Lady Barbara's
+thin fingers, with a quiet, compelling softness, as if
+preparing her for a shock.
+
+"Mr. Felix--came here--to New York--my lady--
+and is here now--or was some weeks ago--doing nothing
+but walk the streets." The words had come one by
+one, Martha's clasp tightening as she spoke.
+
+The wasted figure lifted itself from the pillow and sat
+bolt upright.
+
+"MARTHA! What do you mean!"
+
+"Yes, right here in New York, my lady."
+
+"It isn't so! Her hands were now clutching Martha's
+shoulders. "Tell me it isn't so! It can't be so!"
+
+"It's the blessed God's truth, every word of it!
+He and Stephen have been looking for you day and
+night."
+
+"Looking for me? Me! Oh, the shame of it, the
+shame!" Then with sudden fright: "But he must not
+find me! He shall not find me! You won't let him
+find me, will you, Martha?" Her arms were now tight
+about the old woman's neck, her agonized face turning
+wildly toward the door, as if she thought that
+Felix were already there. "You don't think he wants
+to kill me, do you?" she whispered at last, her face
+hidden in the nurse's neck.
+
+Martha folded her own strong arms about the shaking
+woman, warming and comforting her, as she had
+warmed and comforted the child. She would go through
+with it now to the end.
+
+"No, it's not you he wants to kill," she said firmly,
+when the trembling figure was still.
+
+Lady Barbara loosened her grasp and stared at her
+companion. "Then what does he want to see me for?"
+she asked, in a dazed, distracted tone.
+
+"He wants to help you. He never forgets that you
+were his wife. He'll have his arms around you the moment
+he gets his eyes on you, and all your troubles will
+be over."
+
+"But I do not want his help and I won't accept his
+help," she exclaimed, drawing herself up. "And I
+won't see him if he comes! You must not let me see
+him! Promise me you won't! And he must not
+find"--she hesitated as if unwilling to pronounce the
+name--"he must not find Mr. Dalton. There has
+been scandal enough. You do not think he wants to
+find Mr. Dalton, too, do you, Martha?" she added
+slowly, as if some new terror were growing on her.
+
+"That's what Stephen thinks--find him and kill
+him. That's why he wanted you to listen last night.
+That's why he wants to get you and Mr. Felix together.
+Mr. Dalton won't stay here if he knows Mr. Felix is
+looking for him. He's too big a coward."
+
+Lady Barbara shivered, drew her gown closer, and
+sank to the bed again, gazing straight before her.
+"Yes, that is what will happen, Martha--he would kill
+him. I see it all now. That is what would have happened
+to our gardener who ruined the gatekeeper's
+daughter, if the man had not left England. She was
+only a girl--hardly grown; yes, it all comes back to me.
+I remember what my husband did." She was still
+speaking under her breath, reciting the story more to
+herself than to Martha, her voice rising and falling,
+at times hardly audible. "Nothing--happened then--
+because my husband--did not find the man."
+
+She faced the nurse again. "You won't let him come
+here, will you, Martha?"
+
+"He'll come, my lady, if Stephen can get hold of
+him," came the positive reply. "He had a room in a
+lodging-house not far from here, but he left it, and
+Stephen doesn't know where he's gone. But he'll turn
+up again down at the shop, and then--"
+
+"But you must not let him come," she burst out.
+
+Again she sat upright. "I won't have it--please--
+PLEASE! I will go away if you do, where nobody will ever
+find me. I could not have him see me--see me like
+this." She looked at her thin hands and over her
+shabby gown. "Not like THIS!"
+
+"No, you won't go away, my lady." There was a
+ring of authority now in the nurse's voice. "You'll
+stay here. It's the only way out of this misery for you.
+As for Mr. Felix and that scoundrel who has ruined
+you, Mr. Felix will take care of him. But I'm going to
+let Mr. Felix in, if the dear Lord will let him come.
+Mr. Felix loves you and--"
+
+Her body stiffened. "He never loved me. He
+only loved his father," she cried angrily, and again she
+sank back on her pillow. "All my misery came from
+that."
+
+Martha bent closer. "You never got that right, my
+lady," she returned firmly. "You mustn't get angry
+with me, for I got to let it all out." She was the nurse
+no longer; no matter what happened, she would unburden
+her heart. "Mr. Felix isn't like other men.
+He stood by his father and helped him when he was in
+trouble, just as he'll stand by and help you, just as
+he helps everybody--Tom Moulton's daughter for one,
+that he picked up on the streets of London and sent
+home to her mother. If he'd killed Sam Lawson, who
+ruined her, he'd have given him what he deserved; and
+if he kills this man Dalton, he won't give him half what
+he deserves or what's coming to him sooner or later.
+Dalton isn't fit to live. He got Sir Carroll O'Day all
+tangled up so that his character and all his money was
+hanging by a thread, and then, when Mr. Felix gave up
+what he had to save Sir Carroll, Dalton coaxed you
+away. You didn't know that, did you? But it's true.
+That man Dalton ruined Mr. Felix's father. Oh, I
+know it all--and I have known it for a long time.
+Stephen told me all about it. No, don't stop me, my
+lady! I'm your old Martha, who's nursed you and
+sat by you many a night, and I'll never stop loving
+you as long as I live. I don't care what you do to
+me or what you have done to yourself. Your leaving
+Mr. Felix was like a good many other things you used
+to do when you were crossed. You would have your
+way, just as your father will have his way, no matter
+who is hurt. What Lord Carnavon wants, he wants,
+and there is no stopping him. Anybody else but
+his lordship would have hushed the matter up, instead
+of ruining everybody. But that's all past
+now; I don't love you any less for it; I'm only sorrier
+and sorrier for you every time I think of it. Now
+we've got to make another start. Stephen'll help
+and I'll work my fingers to the bone for you--and
+Mr. Felix'll help most of all."
+
+Except for the gesture of surprise when Dalton's
+part in the ruin of her husband's father was mentioned,
+Lady Barbara had listened to the breathless outburst
+without moving her head. Even when the words cut
+deepest she had made no protest. She knew the nurse's
+heart, and that every word was meant for her good.
+Her utter helplessness, too, confronted her, surrounded
+as she was by conditions she could neither withstand
+nor evade.
+
+"And if he comes, Martha," she asked in a low, resigned
+voice, "what will happen then?"
+
+"He'll get you out of this--take you where you
+needn't work the soul out of you."
+
+"Pay for my support, you mean?" she asked, with
+a certain dignity.
+
+"Of course; why not?"
+
+"Never--NEVER! I will never touch a penny of his
+money--I would rather starve than do it!"
+
+"Oh, it wouldn't be much--he's as poor as any of us.
+When Stephen saw him last, all he had was a rubber
+coat to keep him warm. But little as he has you'll get
+half or all of it."
+
+"Poor as--any of us! Oh, my God, Martha!" she
+groaned, covering her face with her hands. "I
+never thought it would come to that--I never
+thought he could be poor! I never thought be would
+suffer in that way. And it is my fault, Martha--
+all of it! You must not think I do not see it! Every
+word you say is true--and every one else knows that
+it is true. It was all vanity and selfishness and stubbornness,
+never caring whom I hurt, so that I had the
+things I wanted. I put the blame on my husband a
+while ago because I did not want you to hate me too
+much. All the women who do wrong talk that way,
+hoping for some comforting word in their misery.
+But it is I who am to blame, not he. I talk that way
+to myself in the night when I lie awake until I nearly
+lose my mind. Sometimes, too, I try to cheat myself
+by thinking that all these terrible things might
+not have happened had God not taken my baby.
+But I don't know. They might have happened
+just the same, my head was so full of all that was
+wicked. When I think of that, I am glad the baby died.
+It could never have called me mother. Oh, Martha,
+Martha, take me in your arms again--yes, like that--
+close against your breast! Kiss me, Martha, as you
+used to do when I was little! You do love me, don't
+you? And you will promise not to let my husband see
+me? And now go away, please, and leave me alone.
+I cannot stand any more."
+
+
+
+
+Chapter XVI
+
+
+
+The talk with Father Cruse, while it had calmed and,
+to a certain extent, reassured Felix, had not in any way
+swerved him from his determination to find his wife
+at any cost.
+
+The only change he made in his plans was one of
+locality. Heretofore, with the exception of his visits
+to Stephen--long since discontinued now that he
+feared she was an outcast--he had mingled with the
+throngs crowding the Great White Way ablaze with
+light or had haunted the doors of the popular
+theatres and expensive restaurants, and the waiting-rooms
+of the more fashionable hotels. After
+this it must be the byways, places where the poor or
+worse would congregate: cheap eating-houses; barrooms,
+with so-called "family rooms" attached; and
+always the streets at a distance from those trodden by
+the rich and prosperous classes. Father Cruse might
+have been right in his diagnosis, and the sleeve-button
+might form but a minor link in the chain of events
+circling the problem to the solution of which he had
+again consecrated his life, but certain it was that the
+clew Kitty had discovered had only strengthened his
+own convictions. If the woman whom Kitty had
+picked up some months before, and put to bed, were
+not his wife, she must certainly have been near her
+person; which still meant not only poverty but the
+possibility of Dalton's having abandoned her. Possibly,
+too, this woman, whose outside garments had
+contrasted so strangely with her more sumptuous
+underwear, might have been an inmate of the same
+house in which his wife was living--some one, perhaps,
+in whom his wife had had confidence. Perhaps
+--no! That was impossible. Whatever the depths
+of suffering into which his wife had fallen, she had
+not yet reached the pit--of that he was convinced.
+If he were mistaken--at the thought his fingers tightened,
+and his heavy eyebrows and thin, drawn lips
+became two parallel straight lines--then he would know
+exactly what to do.
+
+These convictions filled his mind when, having bid
+good-by to Kitty--who knew nothing of his interview
+with the priest--he buttoned his mackintosh close up
+to his throat, tucked his blackthorn stick under his arm,
+and, pressing his hat well on his head, bent his steps
+toward the East Side. A light rain was falling and
+most of the passers-by were carrying umbrellas. Overhead
+thundered the trains of the Elevated--a continuous
+line of lights flashing through the clouds of mist.
+Underneath stretched Third Avenue, its perspective
+dimmed in a slowly gathering fog.
+
+As he tramped on, the brim of his soft hat shadowing
+his brow, he scanned without ceasing the faces of those
+he passed: the men with collars turned up, the women
+under the umbrellas--especially those with small feet.
+At 28th Street he entered a cheap restaurant, its bill
+of fare, written on a pasteboard card and tacked on
+the outside, indicating the modest prices of the several
+viands.
+
+He had had no particular reason for selecting this
+eating-house from among the others. He had passed
+several just like it, and was only accustoming himself
+to his new line of search; for that purpose, one
+eating-house was as good as another.
+
+Drawing out a chair from a table, he sat down and
+ran his eye over the interior.
+
+What he saw was a collection of small tables, flanked
+by wooden chairs, their tops covered with white cloths
+and surmounted by cheap casters, a long bar with the
+usual glistening accessories, and a flight of steps which
+led to the floor above. His entrance, quiet as it had
+been, had evidently attracted some attention, for a
+waiter in a once-white apron detached himself from a
+group of men in the far corner of the room and, picking
+up, as he passed, a printed card from a table,
+asked him what he would have to eat.
+
+"Nothing--not now. I will sit here and smoke."
+He loosened his mackintosh and drew his pipe from his
+pocket, adding: "Hand me a match, please."
+
+The waiter looked at him dubiously. "Ain't you
+goin' to order nothin'?"
+
+"Not yet--perhaps not at all. Do you object to my
+smoking here?"
+
+"Don't object to nothin', but this ain't no place to
+warm up in, see!"
+
+Felix looked at him, and a faint smile played about
+his lips--the first that had lightened them all day.
+"I shan't ask you to start a fresh fire," he said in a
+decided tone; "and now, do as I bid you, and pass me
+that box of matches."
+
+The man caught the tone and expression, placed the
+box beside him, and joined the group in the rear. There
+was a whispered conference, and a stout man wearing
+a dingy jacket disengaged himself from the others and
+lounged toward Felix.
+
+"Nasty night," he began. "Had a lot of this
+weather this month. Never see a December like it."
+
+"Yes, a bad night. Your servant seemed to think I
+was in the way. Are you the proprietor?"
+
+"Well, I am one of them. Why?"
+
+"Nothing--only I hoped to find you more hospitable."
+
+"Oh, smoke away--guess we can stand it, if you can.
+Dinner's over"--he looked at the big clock decorating
+the white wall--"but they'll be piling in here after the
+theatres is out. You live around here?"
+
+"No, not immediately."
+
+"Looking for any one?"
+
+Felix gave a slight start and, from under his narrowed
+lids, shot one of his bull's-eye flashes.
+
+The man caught the flash and, misinterpreting it,
+bent down and said in a hoarse whisper: "Come from
+the central office, don't you?"
+
+Felix took a long puff at his pipe. "No, I am only a
+very tired man who has come in out of the wet to rest
+and smoke," he answered, with a dry smile, "but if it
+will add to your comfort and improve your hospitality
+in any way, you can send your waiter back here and I
+will order something to eat."
+
+The stout man laid his hand confidently on Felix's
+shoulder. "That's all right, pard--I ain't worryin',
+and don't you. There's nothin' doin', and I'm a-givin'
+it to you straight."
+
+Felix nodded in dismissal, rested his elbows on the
+table, and again puffed away at his brierwood. Being
+mistaken for a central office detective might or might
+not be of assistance. At present, he would let matters
+stand.
+
+As he smoked on, the room, which had been almost
+entirely empty of customers, began filling up. A
+reporter bustled in, ordered a cup of coffee, and, clearing
+away the plates and casters, squared his elbows
+and attacked a roll of paper. Two belated shop-girls
+entered laughing, hung their wet waterproofs
+on a hook behind their chairs, and were soon lost in the
+intricacies of the printed menu. Groups of three and
+four passed him, beating the rain from their hats and
+cloaks, the women stamping their wet feet.
+
+The sudden influx from the outside, bringing in the
+wet and mud of the streets, had started innumerable
+puddles over the clean, sanded floor. The man wearing
+the dingy white jacket craned his head, noticed
+the widening pools, opened a door behind the bar
+leading to the cellar below, and shouted down, in a
+coarse voice, "Here, Stuffy, git busy--everything
+slopped up," and resumed his place beside the group
+of men, their talk still centred on the stranger in the
+mackintosh, who could be seen scrutinizing each
+new arrival.
+
+Something in the poise and dignity of the object of
+their attention as he sat quietly, paper in hand, a curl
+of blue smoke mounting ceilingward from his pipe,
+must also have impressed the newcomers, for no one
+of them drew out any of the empty chairs immediately
+beside him, although the room was now comparatively
+crowded. Finally, the man who answered to the name
+of "Stuffy" appeared from the direction of the group
+near the bar, and made his way toward Felix. He
+carried a broom and a bucket, from which trailed a
+mop used for swabbing wet floors. When he reached
+O'Day's table, he dropped to his knees and attacked a
+sluiceway leading to a miniature lake, fed by the umbrellas
+and waterproofs belonging to the two girls
+opposite.
+
+"Got to ask ye to move a little, sir," he said in
+apology.
+
+"Hold on," replied Felix, in considerate tones, "I
+will stand up and you can get at it better. Bad night
+for everybody." He was on his feet now, his long
+mackintosh hanging straight, his hat still on his head,
+and in his hand the blackthorn stick, which he had
+picked up from beside the table as he rose.
+
+The man stared at the mackintosh, the hat, and the
+cane, and sprang to his feet. "I know ye!" he cried
+excitedly. "Do you know me?"
+
+Felix studied him closely. "I do not think I do,"
+he answered, frowning slightly.
+
+"Well, ye ought to. I ain't never forgot ye, and I
+never will. You give me a meal once and a dollar to
+keep me going."
+
+O'Day's brow relaxed. "Yes, now I do. You are
+the man whose wife left him, and who tried to steal
+my watch."
+
+"That's it--you got it. You didn't give me away.
+Say, I been straight ever since. It's been tough, but I
+kep' on--I work here three nights in the week and I
+got another job in a joint on Second Avenue. Say--"
+he added, glancing furtively over his shoulder. Then
+finding his suspicions confirmed, and the attention of
+the group fastened on him, he began to push the broom
+vigorously, muttering in jerks to Felix: "This ain't
+no place for ye--git into trouble sure--what yer doin'
+here?--They're onto ye, or the bunch wouldn't have
+their heads together--don't make no difference who's
+here, everybody gits pinched--I can't talk--they'll
+git wise and fire me."
+
+Felix's lip curled and an amused expression drifted
+over his face. His jaws set, the muscles forming little
+ridges about his ears.
+
+"I will attend to that later," he said, in a firm voice.
+"Keep on with your work."
+
+He shook the ashes from his pipe, resumed his seat,
+and leaned carelessly forward with his elbows on his
+thighs, his former protege, now deep in his work, squeezing
+the wet rag into the bucket, and using the broom
+where the mud was thickest. When the swabbing-up
+process brought the man within speaking distance again
+Felix leaned still further forward and asked:
+
+"What sort of a place is this--a restaurant?"
+
+The man turned his head. He was again on his
+knees, and had drawn nearer. He was now wiping the
+same spot so as to be within reach of Felix's ear.
+
+"Downstairs--yes," he returned in a low voice. "Upstairs
+--in the rear--across a roof--" He glanced again
+at the group and stopped.
+
+"A gambling house?"
+
+"No--a pool-room. That's why I give ye the tip."
+
+Felix ruminated, the man polishing vigorously.
+"What kind of people come here?"
+
+"The kind ye see--and crooks."
+
+"Do you know them all?"
+
+"Why not? I been workin' here two months. Had
+two raids--that's why I posted ye. It's the chop-house
+game now, with a new deal all around, but they're
+onto it--so a pal of mine tells me."
+
+Again Felix ruminated. "Women ever come here?"
+
+"Oh, yes, up to ten o'clock or so--telephone operators,
+shop-girls--that kind. Two of 'em are over there
+now; they work in Cryder's store Christmas and New
+Year's, and they get taken on extra."
+
+"Any others?"
+
+"You mean fancies?"
+
+"No--straight, decent women, who may live around
+here and who come regularly in for their meals."
+
+"Oh, yes--but they don't stay long. And then"--
+he nodded toward the group--"they don't want 'em
+to stay--no money in grub. Just a bluff they've put
+up."
+
+"Have you come across your wife since I saw you?"
+
+"No, and don't want to. I've got all over that.
+A man's a damn fool to get crazy over a woman, and a
+bigger damn fool to keep worryin' when she goes back
+on him. They ain't wuth it, none on 'em."
+
+"What became of the man she went off with?"
+
+"Got tired and chucked her, after he made a tank of
+her. That's what they all do."
+
+"Have you ever tried to find her?"
+
+"What for?"
+
+"You might do her some good."
+
+"Cut it out! Nuthin' doin'! She was rotten when
+she left me, and she's rotten now. Bums round a
+Raines joint over here on Twenty-eighth Street. Pick
+up anybody. Came staggerin' into the church full of
+booze, so a pal o' mine told me, and got half-way down
+the aisle before they could fire her. Drop in there
+sometime when you go by and ask the sexton if I'm
+a-lyin'. No more of that for me, I'm through. There
+ain't but one place for that kind, and that's Blackwell's
+Island, and that's where they fetch up. I went
+through hell afore I saw you because of her, and I'm
+just pullin' out and I want to stay out."
+
+He raised his head, glanced furtively again at the
+group by the bar, and in a low whisper muttered:
+
+"I've got to go now. They'll get onto me next."
+
+"Never mind those men. They cannot harm you,"
+Felix answered, and was about to add some word of
+sympathy, when he checked himself. It would only
+hurt him the more, he thought. He said instead, his
+voice conveying what his lips would have uttered:
+
+"Do you like it here?"
+
+"Got to."
+
+Felix pushed back his chair, stood erect, and with
+a gesture as if his mind had been made up said: "Would
+you care to do something else?"
+
+The man dropped his broom and straggled to his feet.
+"Can ye give me somethin'? I been a-tryin' everywhere,
+but this kind o' work hoodoos a man, and they
+won't give me no ref'rence 'cause I don't git more'n
+my board and they don't want to lose me. And then"
+--here he winked meaningly--"I know a thing or
+two. But, say, do ye mean it? I'll go anywhere you
+want."
+
+Felix felt in his pocket, drew out a card, and pencilled
+his address. "Come some night--say about eight
+o'clock. It's not far from here. I am glad you pulled
+yourself together and went to work. That is a good
+deal better than the business you tried to follow when
+we first met,"--and one of his dry smiles flickered
+about his mouth. "And now, good night," and he
+held out his hand.
+
+The man drew back. It was a new experience. "You
+mean it?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, give me your hand. Now that you are decent
+I want to shake it. That is the only way we can help
+each other."
+
+Kitty was poring over her accounts when Felix arrived
+at the express-office and made his way to her
+sitting-room. She had had a busy day, the holiday
+season always bringing a rush of extra work, and her
+wagons had been kept going since daylight. The trend
+of travel was to Long Island and Jersey towns, the
+goods being mainly for the Christmas and New Year's
+festivities. John was away--somewhere between the
+Battery and Central Park--and so were Mike and
+Bobby, the boy having been pressed into service now
+that his vacation had begun.
+
+"Are you too busy to talk to me, Mistress Kitty?"
+he said, stripping off his mackintosh and hanging it
+where its drip would do no harm.
+
+"Too busy! God rest ye. Mr. O'Day! I'm never
+too busy to eat, sleep, look after John and Bobby, and
+listen to what ye've got to say. Hold on till I put
+these bills away. There ain't one of 'em'll be paid till
+after New Year--not then, if the customer can help it.
+They'll all spend their own money or somebody else's.
+There!"--and she laid the pile on a shelf behind her.
+"Now, go on--what's it ye want? Come, out with it;
+and mind, I've said 'Yes, and welcome' before ye've
+asked it."
+
+O'Day, from his seat near the stove, studied her face
+for a moment, his own brightening as he felt the warmth
+of her loyalty. "Don't promise too much till you
+hear me out. I am looking for a job."
+
+Kitty turned quickly, her eyes two round O's, all the
+ruddiness gone from her cheeks. "Mr. O'Day! Why!
+Why!--and what's Otto done to ye? I'll go to him
+this minute and--"
+
+Felix laughed gently. "You will do nothing of the
+kind. Mr. Kling is all right and so am I. I want the
+job for a tramp who tried to hold me up one night, and
+who is now scrubbing the floor in a rather disreputable
+public house on Third Avenue."
+
+Kitty let out all her breath and brought her plump
+hands down on her plump knees, her body rocking as
+she did so. "Oh, is that it? What a start ye give me!
+I thought ye and Kling had quarrelled. Sure, I'll
+take your tramp if ye say so. We want a man to wash
+the wagons, and help Mike clean up. John fired the
+macaroni we had last month and I didn't blame him.
+What can yer man do?"
+
+"Not much."
+
+"What do ye know about him?"
+
+"Nothing, except that he tried to rob me."
+
+"And what do ye want me to take him on for?
+To have him get away some night with a Saratoga
+trunk and--"
+
+"No, to KEEP him from getting away with it. He's
+been on the ragged edge of life for some months, if I
+read him aright, and has all he can do to keep his footing.
+I found him a while ago by the merest accident,
+and he is still holding on. A week with you and your
+husband will do him more good than a legacy. He
+will get a new standard."
+
+"What's he been doin' that he's up against it like
+this?" she asked, ignoring the compliment.
+
+"Trying to forget a wife who went back on him--
+so he tells me."
+
+"Has he done it?"
+
+"Yes. If you can believe him. She has become a
+drunkard."
+
+"Well--that's about the worst thing can happen to
+a man--if he's telling ye the truth. What's become
+of her?"
+
+"He did not say. All I know is that he has not seen
+her since she went away."
+
+"Maybe he didn't want to," she flashed back. "Did
+ye get out of him whose fault it was?"
+
+Felix, whose remarks had been addressed to the red-hot
+coals in the stove, glanced quickly toward Kitty,
+but made no answer.
+
+"Ye don't know, that's it, and so ye don't say
+I'll tell ye that it's the man's fault more'n half the
+time."
+
+"And what makes you think so, Mistress Kitty?"
+he asked, trying to speak casually, not daring to look
+at her for fear she would detect the tremor on his lips,
+wondering all the time at her interest in the subject.
+
+"It ain't for thinkin', Mr. O'Day, it's just seein'
+what goes on every day, and it sets me crazy. If a man's
+got gumption enough to make a girl love him well
+enough to marry him, he ought to know enough to
+keep it goin' night and day--if he don't want her to
+forget him. Half of 'em--poor souls!--are as ignorant
+as unborn babes, and don't know any more what's
+comin' to them than a chicken before its head's cut off.
+She wakes up some mornin' after they've been married
+a year or two and finds her man's gone to work without
+kissin' her good-by--when he was nigh crazy before
+they were married if he didn't get one every ten minutes.
+The next thing he does is to stay out half the night,
+and when she is nigh frightened to death, and tells him
+so with her eyes streamin', instead of comfortin' her,
+he tells her she ought to have better sense, and why
+didn't she go to sleep and not worry, that he was of age
+and could take care of himself--when all the time she is
+only lovin' him and pretty near out of her mind lest
+he gets hurted. And last he gets to lyin' as to where he
+HAS been--maybe it's the lodge, or a game in a back
+room, or somethin' ye can't talk about--anyhow, he
+lies about it, and then she finds it out, and everything
+comes tumblin' down together, and the pieces are all
+over the floor. That runs on for a while, and pretty
+soon in comes a dandy-lookin' chap and tells her she's
+an abused woman--and she HAS been--and he begins
+pickin' up the scraps and piecin' them together, tellin'
+her all the time the pretty things the first man told her
+and which, fool-like, she believes over agin, and then
+one fine day she skips off and the husband goes round,
+tearin' his hair with shame or shakin' his fist with
+rage, and says she broke up his home, and if she ever
+sets foot on his doorstep again he'll set the dogs on her,
+or let her starve before he'd give her a crumb. Don't it
+make you laugh? It does me. And you should see
+'em swell round and air their troubles when most
+everybody knows just what's happened from the beginnin'!
+If it was any of my business, I'd let out and
+tell 'em so.
+
+"What my John knows, I know; and what I know,
+he knows. There's never been a time, and there
+ain't one now, when I'm beat out and my bones are
+hangin' stiff in me--and I get that way sometimes
+even now--that I don't go to John and say, 'John,
+dear, get yer arms around me and hold me tight, I'm
+that tired,' and down goes everything, and he's got my
+head on his shoulder and pattin' my cheeks, and up I
+get all made over new, and him too. That's the way
+we get on, and that's the way they all ought to get
+on if--"
+
+She paused, stretching her neck as if for more air.
+
+"God save me! Will ye hear me run on? And ye
+sittin' there drinkin' it all in, not known' a word about
+the women and carin' less. Ye've got to forgive me,
+for I'm like John's alarm-clock in this wife business,
+and when I'm wound up I keep strikin' until I run
+down. Whew! What a heat I got myself into! Now
+go on, Mr. O'Day. What'll I pay him, and when's he
+comin?"
+
+Felix waved his hand deprecatingly. "And so you
+never think, Mistress Kitty, that it may be the woman's
+fault?"
+
+"Yes, sometimes it is. Faults on both sides, maybe.
+If it's the woman's fault, it always begins when she lets
+her man do all the work. Look up and down 'The
+Avenue' here! Every wife is helpin' her husband in
+his business, and every wife knows as much about it
+as the man does. That ain't the way up around Central
+Park. Half of 'em ain't out of bed till purty nigh
+lunch-time. I've heard 'em all talk; and worse yet,
+they glory in it. What can ye expect when there ain't
+five of 'em to a block who knows whether her husband
+has made a million in the past year or whether he's
+flat broke, except what he tells her? No wonder, when
+trouble comes, they shift husbands as they do their
+petticoats, and try it over again with a new one!"
+
+"And if she takes this last plunge, when will she
+wake up to her mistake?" asked Felix, in a low voice.
+
+"Oh, ye can't always tell. It'll generally run on for
+a while until she starts up and stares about her like
+she's been in a trance or a nightmare, and then the
+dear God help her after that, for nobody else can--
+nor will! That's the worst of it--NOR WILL! John was
+readin' out to me the other night about the Red Cross
+Society for pickin' up wounded off the battle-field, and
+carryin' them in where they can be patched up again
+and join their companies when they get well. Why
+don't they have a Red Cross for some of the poor girls
+and wives who are hurted--hundreds of 'em lyin' all
+over the lot--and patch 'em up and bring 'em back
+to their homes? Now I'm done."
+
+"No! Not yet. One more question. After the
+last nightmare, what?"
+
+"The gutter--or worse--that's what! And when
+it's all over, most people say: 'Served her right--she
+had a happy home once, why didn't she stay in it?'
+And somebody else says: 'She was always wild and
+foolish--I knew her as a girl.' And some don't say a
+blessed word because they couldn't dirty their clean
+lips with her name-the hypocrites!--and so they cart
+off her poor body and dump it in a lot back of Calvary
+cemetery. Oh, I know 'em, and that's what makes me
+get hot under the collar every time I get talkin' as
+I've been to-night!--And now let's quit it. If yer
+dead-beat wants a job, and we can keep him from
+stealin' the tires off the wagon and the shoes off my
+big Jim, he can come to work in the mornin', and
+John will pay him a dollar a day and he can sleep over
+the stables. And if he's decent, he can come in here
+once in a while and I'll warm him up with a cup of
+coffee. I'm glad to take him on just because ye
+want it--and ye knew that before I said it, for there's
+nothin' I wouldn't do for ye, and ye know that, too.
+Listen! That's John drivin' in, and I'm going out to
+meet him."
+
+
+
+
+Chapter XVII
+
+
+
+To the fears already possessing Lady Barbara a new
+one had now been added, freezing her blood and leaving
+her prostrate and helpless, like a plant stricken by an
+icy blast.
+
+There had been no sleep for her after Martha's revelations
+regarding the presence of Felix in town, and
+turn as she would on her pillow, she could not escape
+the dread of one hideous possibility--her meeting him
+face to face, uncovering to his penetrating gaze her
+shame.
+
+That he had had any other purpose in pursuing her
+across the sea than to humiliate and punish her, she
+did not believe. No man, certainly no man as proud
+as her husband, would forgive a woman who had trailed
+his ancestral name in the mud, and made his family
+life a byword in clubs and drawing-rooms. That
+Martha believed he could still love her was natural.
+Such good souls, women of the people, who had always
+led restrained and wholesome lives, would believe
+nothing else, but not a woman of her own class. She
+had only to recall a dozen instances where the bonds of
+marriage had been broken, with all the attendant
+scandal and misery, to be convinced of what would
+befall her were she and Felix to meet.
+
+Her one hope was that her husband, baffled in his
+search, had left the city, and that neither Martha nor
+Stephen would ever see him again. Their inability
+to find him of late might mean that he had given up
+the search, having found no trace of her during all the
+months in which he had been trying to find her. Or
+it might mean that he, too, had succumbed to the
+same poverty which she had endured and, being no
+longer able to maintain himself in the great city, had
+sought work elsewhere.
+
+As the thought of this last possibility suddenly took
+possession of her, her heart gave a great bound of relief,
+and in the quiet that ensued, a certain tenderness for
+the man whom she had wronged began to well up
+within her. She recalled their early life and his unfailing
+generosity. Never in all the years she had known
+him had he refused her the slightest thing which could,
+in any way, add to her happiness. Indeed, he had often
+denied himself many of the luxuries to which a man of
+his tastes and training was entitled, in order to add to
+her store. Nor had he ever restrained her in her
+whims or her extravagance, and never, in any way,
+had he curtailed her freedom. She had been free to
+come and free to go, and with whom she pleased. Her
+intimacy with Dalton had been proof of all this, as
+well as her friendships with various men to whose companionship
+many another husband might have objected.
+"All right, Barbara," was his invariable reply; "you
+will get over your youth one of these days, and then
+you and I will settle down."
+
+Even when the financial crash had come, he had
+begged her to go with him to Australia, where he had
+important family connections, and where he could
+build up his fortunes anew. It was by no means
+certain, he had told her, that he was entirely ruined.
+His father's estate, when all the debts were paid,
+might still leave a surplus. There was some land
+just outside of London, too, on the line of suburban
+improvement, and this, with the title which had come
+to him with his father's death, would doubtless, after
+a few years, enable them to return to England and
+resume their former position. She remembered very
+well the night he had pleaded with her, and she remembered,
+too, with a gripping at her heart, her own
+contemptuous answer, and her departure the next
+morning for her father's roof. And then the lie she
+had told!--that Felix had bluntly announced to her
+his plan for raising sheep in Australia, ordering her to
+get ready to go with him at once.
+
+She recalled, too, this time with burning cheeks, a
+certain unsigned letter, in an unknown hand, which
+had reached her after her flight with Dalton, describing
+her husband as stunned and dazed by the blow, the
+writer denouncing her for her desertion, and warning
+her of the retribution in store for her if she remained
+with a man like the one on whom she had staked her
+future happiness. She had laughed at its contents and
+tossed it across the table to Dalton, who had read it
+with a smile, caught it between a pair of tongs and,
+lighting a match, held it over the flame until it was
+consumed.
+
+Then--as, tortured by these recollections, she lay
+staring at the dark--Martha's prediction, based on
+Stephen's, belief, that Felix would kill Dalton at sight,
+rose up in her mind, and with it came another great
+fear--one that, for a moment, stopped her heart from
+beating and left her numb. In the quick succession of
+blows that Martha had dealt, she had not fully grasped
+this part of the story. Now she did. That her husband
+was capable of it she fully believed. Quiet, reticent
+men like Felix--men who had served their country
+both in India and Egypt--men who never boasted,
+who never discussed their intentions or plans until they
+were carried out, were the men to take the law into
+their own hands when their honor was involved, no
+matter who was hurt. Such a catastrophe would not
+only bring to light her own misery, but the unavoidable
+publicity would tarnish still further the good name of
+her people at home. Even were only an attempt on
+Dalton's life made, and an official investigation held--
+as she was convinced would be the case--the scandal
+would be almost as bad. Rather than have this occur
+she would make any sacrifice, even that of humiliating
+herself on her knees before Felix--begging his forgiveness,
+not for the sake of the man she now feared and
+detested, but for the sake of her father at home, and
+to shield her own identity. She feared, too, for Felix.
+He, of all men, should be saved from committing such
+an act.
+
+With this a sudden resolve born of her fears and
+shattered nerves took possession of her. She would
+not only see her husband whenever he came, but she
+would send word in the morning to Stephen to redouble
+his search, leaving no stone unturned until he
+was found.
+
+Nothing of all this did she say to Martha, who helped
+her dress, watching the dark circles beneath the eyes.
+Breakfast over, she silently took her seat by the window,
+drew from the big paper box at her feet her several
+pieces of lace, including the mantilla, and began to
+work.
+
+As she held up to the light the ragged tear in the
+Spanish lace, and noted the width and length of the
+gash in its delicate texture, her heart sank. She saw
+at a glance that she could not finish it before closing
+time, even if she devoted the whole day to its repair.
+Better complete, thought she, the other and smaller
+pieces--one a fichu of Brussels lace, and the others
+some embroidered handkerchiefs on which she was to
+place monograms. These she would finish and take to
+Mangan. When he saw how tired she was, he would
+accept her excuses and give her another day for the
+large and more important piece. She did not have to
+leave the house until four o'clock, and as Martha was
+to be out most of the day, she could work on without
+distraction of any kind.
+
+When, at noon, Martha left her, with a caressing
+pat of the hand, promising to be back in time for
+supper, the anxious, weary woman picked up her
+needle again, her fingers darting in and out like shuttles,
+her shoulders aching with the strain, her mind still
+intent on the problems which had tortured her all
+night, and only rousing herself when the clock in a
+neighboring tower struck four. Then she gathered up
+her work, wrapped the whole in the same sheet of
+tissue-paper in which the several pieces had been
+packed, and, adjusting her hat and cloak, started for
+Rosenthal's.
+
+Mangan, who was in charge of the department, had
+been waiting for her in a small room off the repair shop,
+and as he caught sight of her frail figure making her
+way toward him, rose to greet her. "Well, I'm glad
+you've come," he began, as she reached his desk.
+"Brought that Spanish piece, didn't you? Ought to
+have had it last night."
+
+She tried to smile, but his face was too forbidding.
+"No, I am sorry to say that--"
+
+"You didn't! What have you done with it?"
+
+"I could not finish it. I have brought everything
+else. I will have it for you in the morning."
+
+Mangan looked at her curiously, a smirk of suspicion
+crossing his narrow fox face. "Oh! You'll bring it
+to-morrow, will you?" he sneered. "Well, do you
+know that to-morrow's New Year's Eve and that this
+mantilla's got to be delivered to-night? They have
+been telephoning all day for it. To-morrow, eh?
+Well, don't that make you tired! It does me."
+
+An indignant protest quivered through her, but she
+dared not show resentment. Only within the last few
+months had she been subjected to these insults, and
+only her helplessness had compelled her to bear them.
+
+"I am very sorry," she answered simply, and with
+a certain dignity. "I have not been very well. I have
+done all I could. The damage was greater than I expected.
+Some of the threads must be entirely restored."
+
+"What time to-morrow?" Every kind of excuse
+known to the shop-worker had been poured into his
+ears. Very few of them contained a particle of truth.
+
+"Before noon, if I can; certainly by four o'clock."
+
+"Four o'clock?" he roared. He had already made
+up his mind that she was lying, but there was no use
+in his telling her so, nor would any time be gained by
+taking the work from her and handing it over to another
+employee.
+
+"Four means eight, I guess. What's the matter
+with ten o'clock? I got to have that sure, and no
+monkeying. Can't you brace up and jam it through?"
+
+"I will try." Her cheeks were burning under the
+sting of his coarse lashes.
+
+"Try! You bet you'll try! Better get home right
+away. Give me that bundle--I'll have it checked up,
+so you won't lose no time."
+
+She bit her lip, her whole nature in revolt, but she
+made no reply. Too much was at stake for her to show
+anger at such coarseness. She had no rights that he
+was bound to respect. She was only one of his work-girls,
+and her short experience had shown her that but
+few of her associates received better treatment from
+him.
+
+"Thank you," was all she said as, with downcast eyes,
+she picked her way through the crowded workroom,
+down the long, steep staircase reserved for employees
+and so on to the street. There she caught a Third
+Avenue car and sank into a seat near the door, encroaching
+upon her small reserve of pennies to reach
+home the sooner. She saw but too clearly that not
+only did her present position depend on her returning
+the mantilla at the earliest possible moment, but that,
+exhausted as she was, she must utilize the few remaining
+minutes of daylight as well as the earlier
+hours of the morning to keep her promise. To work
+long at night she knew was impossible. She had not
+the eyes to follow the intricacies of the meshes with
+no other light than that afforded by Martha's kerosene
+lamp. She had tried it before, and had been forced to
+stop.
+
+When she reached the cross street leading to Martha's
+door, she hurried from the car, caught her skirts in her
+hand, a habit of hers when nervously hurried, and, summoning
+up all her strength, sped on, mounting the
+narrow, rickety steps with but a pause for breath on
+the last landing. Once there, she took her latch-key
+from her pocket and unlocked the door, leaving it on the
+jar, as she knew Martha might come in at any moment.
+
+As she entered the humble apartment, its restful
+seclusion, after her experience with Mangan, sent a
+thrill of thankfulness through her. One after another
+the several objects passed in review--the kettle singing
+on the stove, its ample bed of coals warming the
+room; her own tiny chamber, leading out of the one
+large room, with its small iron bedstead and white
+cotton quilt; the table with its lamp; the pine shelves
+with the few pieces of china, and even the big paper
+box in which her work was delivered and later returned
+to the shop, either by wagon or special messenger, and
+which Martha, before she had gone out, had placed on
+a chair near the door to keep it out of the dust. All
+told her of peace and warmth and comfort.
+
+She lighted the lamp, picked up the box containing
+the mantilla, and half raised the lid, intending to place
+the contents on her sewing-table, but, catching sight
+of the kettle again, she let the box lid drop from her
+hands. She was chilled from the ride in the car, the
+water was boiling, and it would take but a minute to
+make herself a cup of tea. This would give her renewed
+strength for her task. Hardly had she drained
+her cup when she became conscious of a step on the
+stairs--a steady, firm step. Not Martha's nor that of
+the boy. Nor that of the expressman who often sought
+Martha's apartment.
+
+As it approached the landing, a sickening faintness
+assailed her.
+
+She had heard that step before.
+
+It was Felix!
+
+Her hour of trial had come!
+
+He would find the door ajar, stride into the room
+with that quiet, self-contained manner of his; and she
+must face him and stand ashamed!
+
+For a brief instant she wavered, her resolution of
+the morning, to throw herself at his feet, put to flight
+by a sense of some impending terror. Should she
+spring forward and shut the door before he reached it,
+refusing to admit him until Martha came, or should she
+creep noiselessly into her room and lock herself in,
+remaining silent until he should leave the premises,
+believing no one at home? While she stood, half
+paralyzed with fear, the door moved gently, almost
+stealthily, swinging back half its width, and a man in
+cape-coat, and slouch hat drawn dose over his eyes,
+stepped into the room.
+
+Lady Barbara gave a piercing shriek, sprang from
+her seat, and staggered back, grasping a chair to
+keep her from falling. "How dare you, Guy Dalton,
+to--"
+
+The intruder loosened the top button of his cape,
+watching, meanwhile, the terrified woman, and, with a
+sneer, said: "Oh, stop that, will you? I've had enough
+of it. You thought you could get away, did you?
+Well, you can't, and the sooner you find that out the
+better for you." He glanced coolly around the room.
+"So this is where you are, is it?--a rotten hole, anyhow.
+You might better have stayed where you were. Does
+Rosenthal pay you enough to keep this up, or is somebody
+else footing the bills? Now, you get your things
+on and be quick about it."
+
+She had been edging toward her bedroom door all
+this time, her eyes glaring into his with the fierceness
+of a cornered animal, muttering as she stepped--one
+word at a time: "You--have--no--right--to--come
+--in--here."
+
+"I haven't, haven't I? I'd like to know who has a
+better right?" he returned angrily.
+
+"No, you have not." She was moving an inch at a
+time, keeping a chair between herself and Dalton, her
+eyes watching his every expression, her right hand
+stretched along the wall.
+
+"Still at it, are you? Well, get through, and hurry
+up. I'll go where I please, and you'll come when I want
+you. Everybody is inquiring for you down at the
+house, and I promised them you would be back to-night,
+and you will. You were a fool to leave. It's a lot
+better than this. From what I heard last night, from
+one of Rosenthal's girls, I thought you had moved into
+something palatial."
+
+She had reached the bedroom door now, and her
+hand was on the knob.
+
+"Yes--that's right," he said, mistaking her purpose,
+"get into your wraps, and--"
+
+The door closed with a sudden bang, and the inside
+bolt was pushed tight.
+
+Dalton stood with his hands in his pockets. "Oh,
+that's the game, is it?" he called, in a loud voice. He
+saw he had been outwitted, and an oath escaped him.
+He saw, too, that the door was a heavy one, and the
+effort to force it might bring in the neighbors. "Well,
+there's no hurry. I can wait," he added savagely, "but
+if you know what's good for you, you'll come out now."
+
+She had sunk down on her bed, hardly daring to
+breathe. Her only hope now lay in Martha, and she
+might not come back for an hour.
+
+Dalton sauntered away from the door and began
+an inspection of the room. The box on the chair came
+first. He lifted the lid and drew out the mantilla.
+"Rather good, this--wonder how she got hold of it--
+Oh, yes, I see, she must be repairing it. There are her
+work-basket and the spools of black silk."
+
+He turned to the box again and read the name of
+"Rosenthal" stencilled on the bottom. "So that is
+what she is doing--they did not tell me what she
+worked at." He spread out the mantilla again and
+looked it over carefully. Then a smile of cunning
+crossed his face. "Just what I want," he said, folding
+it up and tucking it inside his capacious cape.
+
+He now made a tour of the room, his tread like that
+of a cat, lifted the plates on the dresser as if in search
+of something behind them, rummaged through the
+work-basket, opening and turning the leaves of a book
+lying on the table. So occupied was he that he did
+not hear Martha's noiseless step nor know that she
+had entered the room.
+
+For a moment she stood watching his every movement.
+The man she saw was well-knit and rather
+handsome, not much over thirty, with clean-shaven
+face, drooping eyelids, and a hard-set lower jaw. She
+had a suspicion that it might be Dalton, but was not
+sure, never having seen him but once, when he was
+much younger.
+
+"Who do you want to see?" she asked at last, in a
+firm voice.
+
+Dalton wheeled sharply, and took her in with one
+comprehensive glance. He had always prided himself
+on never having been outwitted or taken unawares, and
+that Lady Barbara could lock herself in her room, and
+that this woman could creep up behind him unobserved,
+rather nettled him.
+
+"I don't know that it is any of your business, my
+good woman," he answered, his insolence increasing
+as he noticed how mild and inoffensive she appeared
+to be; "but if it makes any difference to you, I will
+tell you that I am waiting for my wife."
+
+"Where is she?" Martha's voice was clear and
+incisive, with a ring of determination through it that,
+for the moment, disconcerted him.
+
+Dalton pointed to the bedroom door.
+
+Martha stepped across the room and tried the knob.
+"Open the door, Lady Barbara. It's Martha. Who
+is this man?"
+
+The bolt shot back and Barbara's frightened face
+peered out. "Oh, thank God you have come!" she
+moaned, her teeth chattering. "It is Mr. Dalton. I
+ordered him from the room, and he would not go,
+and--"
+
+"Oh, it's Mr. Guy Dalton, is it?" Martha cried,
+facing him. "The man who's been a curse to you ever
+since you met him. I know every crook and turn of
+you--you ought to be ashamed of yourself to treat a
+woman as you have treated Lady Barbara O'Day.
+Now, sir, this is my room and you can't stay in it a
+minute longer. There's the door!"
+
+Dalton laughed a dry, crackling laugh. "You are
+a regular virago, are you not, my dear woman?" he
+said. "Quite refreshing to hear your defense of a
+woman on whom I have spent every shilling I had.
+Now, do not get excited--cool down a bit, and we will
+talk it over--and while we are at it, please make me a
+cup of tea. It is about my hour. When my wife comes
+to her senses, as she will in a minute, she will get over
+her tantrums and think better of it."
+
+Martha strode straight toward him until her capacious
+body was within a few inches of his shirt-front,
+her hands tightly clinched. "Don't make any mistake,
+Mr. Dalton. Your airs won't go here. My brother
+Stephen looks after me and after Lady O'Day, and he
+and another man you wouldn't care to meet are looking
+after you."
+
+She called to her mistress: "Lock and bolt that
+door on you, and don't open it until I tell you."
+
+Again she confronted Dalton, her contempt for
+him increasing as she caught the wave of anxiety that
+swept his face at her reference to the men who would
+help her. "Now, you can have just one minute to
+leave this room, Mr. Dalton," she cried, throwing back
+the door. "If you're over that time, the policeman on
+the block will help you down-stairs."
+
+Dalton hesitated. The allusion to Stephen, whoever
+he might be, and to the other man, disturbed him.
+That the woman knew more of his history than she
+was willing at that time to tell was evident. That she
+was entirely in earnest, and meant what she said, and
+that it would be more than dangerous for him to defy
+her, should she appeal to the police for help, were
+equally evident.
+
+"Of course, my dear woman," he said, with assumed
+humility, his eyes glistening with anger, "if you do not
+want me to stay, I suppose I shall have to go. I did
+not come to make any fuss; I only came to take my
+wife home where I can take care of her. She seems to
+think she can get along without me. All right--I
+am willing she should try it for a while. She has my
+address, which is more than I had when she left me
+without a word of any kind."
+
+He slid his hand under his cape to assure himself
+that the mantilla was safe and out of sight, picked up
+his hat, and stepped jauntily out, saying as he went
+down the staircase: "Next time, she will come to me.
+Do you hear? Tell her so, will you?"
+
+
+
+
+Chapter XVIII
+
+
+
+Sometimes on life's highway we meet a man who
+reminds us of one of those high-priced pears seen in
+fruiterers' windows: wholesome, good to look at, without
+a speck or stain on their smooth, round, rosy
+skins--until we bite into them. Then, close to their
+hearts, we uncover a greedy, conscienceless worm,
+gnawing away in the dark--and consign the whole to
+the waste-barrel.
+
+Dalton, despite his alluring exterior, had been rotten
+at heart from the time he was sixteen years of age,
+when he had lied to his father about his school remittances,
+which the old man had duplicated at once.
+
+That none of his associates had discovered this was
+owing to the fact that no one had probed deeper than
+the skin of his attractiveness--and with good reason:
+it was clean, good to look at, bright in color, a most
+welcome addition to any dinner-table. But when the
+drop came--and very few fruits can stand being
+bumped on the sidewalk--the revelation followed
+all the quicker, simply because bruised fruit rots in a
+day, as even the least qualified among us can tell.
+
+And the bruises showed clearer as time went on.
+The lines in his once well-rounded, almost boyish
+face grew deeper and more strongly marked, the eyes
+shrank far back beneath the brows, the lips became
+thinner and less mobile, the hair was streaked with
+gray, and the feet lacked their old-time spring.
+
+With these there had come other changes. The
+smile which had won many a woman was replaced
+by a self-conscious smirk; the debonair manner which
+had charmed all who met him was now a mere bravado.
+His dress, too, showed the strain. While his collar
+and neckwear were properly looked after, and his face
+was clean-shaven, other parts of his make-up, especially
+his shoes and hat, were much the worse for wear.
+
+This, then, was the man who, with thoughts intent
+on his last and most degrading makeshift, was forging
+his way up Second Avenue, the mantilla--the veriest
+film of old Salamanca lace--pressed into a small wad
+and stuffed in his inside pocket.
+
+
+And now, while we follow him on his way up-town,
+it may be just as well for us to note that up to this
+precise moment our devil-may-care, still rather handsome
+Mr. Dalton, with the drooping eyelids and cold,
+hard lips, had entirely failed to grasp the idea that,
+in so far as public and private morals were concerned,
+he had in the last thirty minutes fallen to the level
+of a common sneak-thief.
+
+His own reasoning, in disproof of this theory, was
+entirely characteristic of the man. While the pawning
+of one's things was of course unfortunate and
+might occasion many misunderstandings and much
+obloquy, such an act was not necessarily dishonest,
+because many gentlemen, some of high social position,
+had been compelled to do the same thing. He himself,
+yielding to force of circumstances, had already
+pawned a good many things--his wife's first, and then
+his own--and would do it again under similar conditions.
+That the article carefully hidden in his pocket
+belonged to neither one of them, did not strike him
+as altering the situation in the slightest. The mantilla
+was of no value to him, nor, for that matter, to
+Lady Barbara. He would pawn it not alone for the
+sake of the money it would bring him, to tide him over
+his troubles until he could recover his losses--only
+a question of days, perhaps hours--but because, by
+means of the transaction, he would be enabled to
+restore harmony to a home which, through the obstinacy
+of a woman on whom he had squandered
+every penny he possessed in the world, had been
+temporarily broken up.
+
+Should she rebel and refuse to join him--and she
+unquestionably had that right--he would carry out
+a plan which had come to him in a flash when he
+first picked it up. He would pawn it for what it would
+bring and, watching his chance some day when Lady
+Barbara was out at work, force his way into the apartment,
+slip the pawn-ticket where it could easily be
+found--behind the china or in among her sewing
+materials--and with that as proof, charge her with
+having stolen the lace, threatening her with exposure
+unless she yielded. If she relented, he would destroy
+the ticket and let the matter drop; if she continued
+obstinate, he would charge her companion with being
+an accessory. The woman was evidently befriending
+Lady Barbara for what she could get out of her.
+Neither of them was seeking trouble. Between the
+two he could accomplish his purpose.
+
+What would happen in the meanwhile, when she
+tried to account for its loss to Rosenthal, never caused
+him the slightest concern. She, of course, could concoct
+some story which they would finally believe.
+If not, they could deduct the value of the lace from
+her earnings.
+
+He had the best of motives for his action. Their
+board bill was overdue. He was harassed by the want
+of even the small sums of money needed for car-fare,
+and of late it had become very evident that if they
+were to keep their present quarters--and he was afraid
+to try for any others--he must yield at once to the
+proprietor's pressing suggestion to "patch up his
+differences with his wife," and have her come home and
+once more take charge of the suite of rooms; the
+owner arguing that as Mr. and Mrs. Stanton were
+known to be "family people," a profitable little game
+free from police interruption might be carried on,
+the surplus to be divided between the "house and
+Mrs. Stanton's husband."
+
+That she should decline again to be party to any
+such plan seemed to him altogether improbable, since
+all she had to do to insure them both comfort was to
+return home like a sensible woman, put on the best
+clothes she possessed--the more attractive the better,
+and she certainly was fetching in that wrapper--and be
+reasonably polite to such of his friends as chose to
+drop in evenings for a quiet game of cards.
+
+Moreover, she owed him something. He had made
+every sacrifice for her, shared with her his every shilling,
+making himself an exile, if not a fugitive, for
+her sake, and it was time she recognized it.
+
+With the recall of these incidents in his checkered
+career a new thought blazed up in his mind--rather
+a blinding thought. As its rays brightened he halted
+in his course, and stood gazing across the street as
+if uncertain as to his next move. Perhaps, after all,
+it would be best NOT to pawn the mantilla. An outright
+sale would be much better. If this were impossible,
+it would be just as well to destroy the ticket
+and postpone his scheme for regaining possession of
+her person. While something certainly was due him--
+and she of all women in the world should supply it--
+forcing her to carry out the landlord's plan, now that
+he thought it over, might result in a certain kind of
+publicity, which, if his own antecedents were looked
+into, would be particularly embarrassing. She might
+--and here a slight shiver passed through him--she
+might, in her obstinacy, threaten him with the forged
+certificates, a result hardly possible, for no letters of
+any kind had reached her, none so far as he knew;
+neither had he ever discussed the incident with her, for
+the simple reason that women, as a rule, never understood
+such things. And yet how could he, as a financier,
+have tided over an accounting which, if allowed to go
+on, would have wiped out the savings of hundreds
+who had trusted him and whom he could not desert
+in their hour of need, except by some such desperate
+means? Of course, if he had to do it all over again,
+he would never have locked up the stock-book in his
+own safe. That was a mistake. He ought to have left
+it with the treasurer. Then he could have shifted
+the responsibility.
+
+Just here, oddly enough, he began to think of
+Felix--that cold-blooded, unimaginative man, who
+knew absolutely nothing about how to treat a woman,
+and, for that matter, knew nothing about anything else
+in so far as the practical side of life was concerned.
+The fool--here his brow knit--had not only broken
+up the final deal, in which everything had been fixed
+with Mullhallsen, the German banker, for an additional
+loan, but he had unearthed and compared
+certain certificates, in his fight to protect an obstinate
+old father. Worse still, he had taken himself off to
+Australia to starve, instead of saving what he could
+out of the wreck. Had he only listened to advice,
+the whole catastrophe might have been averted.
+
+And this fool would have ruined his wife as well,
+had not he--Dalton--stepped in and saved her from
+burying herself in the wilderness.
+
+As the memory of the scene with Felix when the
+stock-book was unearthed passed through his mind,
+his hand instinctively sought the bulge in his coat-pocket.
+He must get rid of it and at once. Just as
+the certificates had proved to be dangerous, so might
+this lace.
+
+With this idea of his own peril possessing his mind
+his whole manner changed. The air of triumph shown
+in his step and bearing when he left Marta's door,
+due to his discovery of the fugitive and the terror his
+presence had inspired, was gone. The old spectre
+always pursuing him stepped again to his side and
+linked arms. His slinking, furtive air returned, and
+a certain well-defined fear, as if he dreaded being
+followed, showed itself in every glance.
+
+Suddenly he caught sight of a well-patronized retreat,
+owned and operated by a Mrs. Blobbs, the
+Polish wife of an English cheap John, and with a
+quick sliding movement, he paused in front of the
+narrow door. He had already taken in, from under
+his hat, the single gas-jet lighting up its collection of
+pinchbeck jewelry, watches, revolvers, satin shoes, fans,
+and other belongings of the unfortunate, and after
+peering up and down the street, he slipped in noiselessly,
+his countenance wearing that peculiar, shame-faced
+expression common to gentlemen on similar
+missions. That it was not his first experience could
+be seen from the way he leaned far over the counter,
+dropped the filmy wad, and then straightened back--
+the gesture meaning that if any other customer should
+come in while his negotiations were in progress, he
+was not to be connected in any way with the article.
+
+"Something rather good," he said, pointing to the
+black roll.
+
+The proprietress, a square-built woman, solid as
+a sack of salt, her waist-line marked by a string tightened
+just above a black alpaca apron, her dried-apple
+face surmounted by a dingy lace cap topped with
+a soiled red ribbon, eyed him cautiously, and remarked,
+after loosening out the mantilla: "Dem teater gurls
+only vant such tings, and dey can pay nuddin'. No,
+I vouldn't even gif fife tollars. Petter dake it somevares
+else."
+
+Dalton hesitated, turning the matter over in his
+mind. The transfer would bring him the desired
+pawn-ticket, but the five dollars was not sufficient to
+help him tide over the most pressing of his difficulties.
+He had borrowed double that sum two nights before,
+from the barkeeper of a pool-room where he occasionally
+played, and he dared not repeat his visit
+until he could carry him the money.
+
+The male Blobbs, the taller and more rotund of
+the two shopkeepers--especially about the middle--
+now strolled in, leaned over the counter, and picking
+up the lace, held it to the overhead light. Looked at
+from behind, Blobbs was all shirt-sleeves and waist-coat,
+the back of his flat head resting like a lid on
+his shoulders. Looked at from the front, Blobbs
+developed into a person with shoe-brush whiskers
+bristling against two yellow cheeks, the features being
+the five dots a child always insists upon when drawing
+a face. Dalton saw at a glance that it was Mrs.
+Blobbs, and not Mr. Blobbs, who was in charge of
+the shop, and that any discussions with him as to
+the price would be useless.
+
+"You're an Hinglishnan, I take it," came from
+the lowest dot of the five, a blurred and uncertain
+mouth.
+
+Dalton colored slightly and nodded.
+
+"Well, what I should adwise ye to do is to take
+this 'ere lace to some of them hold furnitoor shops.
+I know what this is. I 'ate to see a chap like ye put
+to it like this, that's why I tell ye. 'Ard on your woman,
+but--there's a shop hup on Fourth Avenue where
+they buy such things. A Dutchman by the name of
+Kling, right on the corner--you can't miss it. Take
+it hup to 'im and tell 'im I sent ye--we often 'elps
+one another."
+
+Dalton crumpled up the black wad, slid the package
+under his coat, and without a word of thanks left the
+shop.
+
+This was not the first time Blobbs had sent Kling
+a customer. Indeed, there had always been more or
+less of a trade between the two establishments. For,
+while Mrs. Blobbs had a license and could advance
+money at reasonable rates, her principal business was
+in old-clothes and ready-to-wear finery. Being near
+"The Avenue" and well known to its denizens, many
+of their outgrown and out-of-fashion garments had
+passed across her counter. Here the young man who
+pounded away on Masie's piano, the night of her
+birthday party, borrowed, for a trifle, his evening suit.
+Here Codman had exchanged a three-year-old overcoat,
+which refused to be buttoned across his constantly
+increasing girth, for enough money to pay for
+the velvet cuffs and collar of the new one purchased on
+Sixth Avenue. Here Mrs. Codman bought remnants
+of finery with which to adorn her young daughter's
+skirts when she went to the ball given by the Washington
+chowder party. Here, too, was where the undertaker
+sold the clothes of the man who stepped off a
+ten-story building in the morning and was laid out that
+same night in Digwell's back room, his friends depositing
+a fresh suit for him to be buried in, telling the
+undertaker to do with the old one as he pleased. And
+to this old-clothes shop flocked many another denizen
+of side streets, who at one time or another had reached
+crises in their careers which nothing else could relieve.
+
+Mrs. Blobbs's curt refusal to receive the lace only
+added fuel to the blazing thought that had flared up
+in Dalton's mind when he recalled the certificates.
+Holding on to them had caused one explosion. The
+mantilla might prove another such bomb. He dared
+not leave it at home and he could not carry it for an
+indefinite time on his person. If the man Kling
+would pay any decent price for it, he could have it
+and welcome.
+
+With the grim spectre still linking arms with him
+he hurried on, making short-cuts across the streets,
+until he arrived at Kling's corner. At this point he
+paused. His terror must not betray him. Shaking
+himself free of the spectre, he assumed his one-time
+nonchalant air, entered the store and walked down the
+middle aisle, between the lines of sideboards, bureaus
+and high desks drawn up in dress parade. Over the
+barricade of the small office he caught the shine of
+Otto's bald head, the only other live occupant, except
+Fudge, who had crept out from behind a bureau, and
+bounded back with a growl. Fudge had sniffed around
+the legs of a good many people, and might have written
+their biographies, but Dalton was new to him.
+Few thieves had ever entered Kling's doors.
+
+"I have just left your old friends, Mr. and Mrs.
+Blobbs," he began gayly, "who have advised me to
+bring to you rather a rare piece of lace belonging to
+my wife. Fine, isn't it?" He loosened the bundle
+and shook out the folds of the mantilla.
+
+Otto put on his glasses, felt the texture of the piece
+between his fingers, and spread out the pattern for
+closer examination. "Yes, dot's a good piece of lace.
+Vot you vant to do vid it? Dere's a hole in it, you
+see," and he thrust a pudgy finger into the gash.
+
+"Yes, I know," returned Dalton, who, with his eye
+still on the dog, had been crushing it together so that
+the tear might not show; "but that is easily remedied.
+I want to sell it. Mr. Blobbs tells me it is worth
+a hundred dollars."
+
+"Is dot so? Vell--vell--a hundred tollars! Dot's
+a good deal of money." He had begun to wrap it up,
+tucking in the ends. "No--dot Fudge dog don't bite--
+go away, you. T'ank you for lettin' me see it, tell Mr.
+Blobbs, but I don't vant it at dot price. And I doan
+know I vant it at any price. Dey doan buy dem t'ings
+any more."
+
+Dalton saw that the mantilla had favorably impressed
+the dealer. He had caught the look of pleasure
+when the lace was first unrolled, reading the man's
+brain as he had often read the brains of the men at
+home who listened to some rose-colored prospectus.
+These experiences had taught him that there was always
+a supreme moment when one must stop praising
+an article for sale, whether it were a rubber concession
+from an African chief or a pound of tea over a grocer's
+counter. This moment had arrived with Kling.
+
+"I agree with you," he said smilingly. "The valuation
+was Mr. Blobbs's, not mine. I told him I should
+be glad to get half that amount--or even less."
+
+Otto took the bundle and loosened the roll again.
+"I got a little girl, Beesving--dot was her dog make
+such foolishness--who likes dese t'ings. But dot is
+not business, for I doan sell it again once I gif it to
+her. I joost put it around her shoulders for a New
+Year's gift. Maybe if you--" He re-examined it
+closely, especially the tear, which had partly yielded
+to Lady Barbara's deft fingers and tired eyes. "Vell,
+I tell you vot I do, I gif you tventy tollars."
+
+"That, I am afraid, will not answer my purpose,"
+said Dalton. "Perhaps, however, you will loan me
+thirty dollars on it and hold the lace for a week or so,
+and I will pay you back thirty-five when some money
+that is due me comes in?"
+
+Otto looked at him from under his bushy eyebrows.
+"Ve don't do dot kind of business. If I buy--I buy.
+If I sell--I sell. Sometimes I pay more as a t'ing is
+vorth. Sometimes I pay less. I have a expert vid
+me who knows vat dis is vorth, but he is busy vid a
+customer on de next floor, and I doan sent for him.
+If you vant de tventy tollars you can have it. If you
+doan, den take avay de lace. I got a lot of t'ings to
+do more as to talk about it. Ven you see Blobbs,
+you tell him vat I say."
+
+Dalton's mind worked rapidly. To take the money
+would clean off his debt and leave him a margin which
+he might treble before midnight.
+
+"Give me the money," he said. "It is not one-third
+of its value, but I see that it is all I can do."
+
+Otto smiled--the smile of a man who had hit the
+thing at which he aimed--felt in his inside pocket,
+drew out a great flat pocketbook, and counted out
+the bills.
+
+Dalton swept them up as a winner at baccarat
+sweeps up his coin, apparently without counting them,
+stuffed the crumpled bank-notes into his pocket, and
+started for the door.
+
+Half-way down the long shop he halted opposite a
+sideboard laden with old silver and glass and, to show
+that he was not in a hurry, paused for an instant,
+picking up a cut-glass decanter with a silver top,
+remarking casually, as he laid it back, "Like one I
+have at home," continuing his inspection by holding
+aloft a pipe-stem glass, to see the color the better.
+
+As he resumed his walk to the door, Felix, with
+Masie and a customer ahead of him, was just descending
+the rear stairs from the "banquet hall" above.
+He thus had a full view of the store below. Something
+in the way with which the bubble-blown glass was
+handled attracted O'Day's attention. He had seen
+a wrist with a movement like that, the poised glass
+firmly held in an outstretched hand. Where, he could
+not tell; at his own table, perhaps, or possibly at a
+club dinner. He remembered the quick, upward toss,
+the slender receptacle held high. He leaned far forward,
+and watched the nervous step and halting gait.
+Had Masie and the customer not been ahead of him,
+he would have hurried past them and called to the
+man to stop--not an unusual thing with him when
+his suspicions were aroused. Instead, he waited until
+he was well down the stairs, then strolled carelessly
+toward the door, intending to make some excuse
+to accost the man on the sidewalk. Not that he had
+any definite conviction regarding his likeness to the
+man he wanted; more to satisfy his conscience that
+he had permitted no clew to slip past him.
+
+What made him hesitate was the way the slouch-hat
+shaded the intruder's face, the gas-jets not revealing
+the features. Only the end of the chin was visible,
+and the round of the lower cheek showing above the
+heavy cape-collar of the overcoat.
+
+Dalton by this time had reached the street-door,
+which he closed gently behind him, holding it for an
+instant to prevent its making a noise. Felix lunged
+forward, reopened it quickly, and gazed out into the
+night. Dalton had vanished as completely as if the
+earth had swallowed him.
+
+Another man, who had kept his eyes on O'Day as
+he peered into the dark, an undersized, gaunt-looking
+man, sidled toward Felix and pulled at his coat sleeve.
+"I ain't too early, am I? You said eight o'clock?"
+
+Felix looked at him keenly. "Oh, yes, I remember--
+no, you are all right. How long have you been here?"
+
+"About half an hour."
+
+"Did you notice which way that man went who
+has just shut the door?"
+
+The tramp looked about him in a helpless way. "I
+wasn't lookin'. I was a-watchin' you--waitin' for
+you to come out--but I got on to him when he went
+in awhile ago."
+
+"Then you have seen him before?"
+
+"Of course I've seen him before. He plays pool
+where I've been a-workin'."
+
+Felix bent closer. "Do you know his name?"
+
+"Sure! His name's Stanton. He's been puttin'
+sompin' to soak, I guess. I heard last week he was
+up against it. Do you know him?"
+
+Felix remained silent a moment, checking his own
+disappointment, and then answered slowly: "I
+thought I did, but I see I am mistaken. Come inside
+the store where it is warmer. I have secured you a
+job, and will take you with me when I have finished
+here."
+
+
+
+
+Chapter XIX
+
+
+
+Had a spark of human feeling been left in Dalton's
+body, it would have been kindled into a flame of sympathy,
+could he have seen Lady Barbara when she
+opened the box early next morning, and stood trembling
+over the loss of the mantilla.
+
+Her first hope was that she had inadvertently taken
+it to Rosenthal's with the other pieces of lace, and
+that Mangan had found it when he checked up her
+work. Then a cold chill ran through her, her anxiety
+increasing every moment. Had she dropped it in the
+street? Had the woman who jostled her on the way
+up the long staircase to the workroom, picked up her
+package when she stumbled? Perhaps some one had
+crept in during the night and, finding the box near
+the door, had caught up the mantilla and escaped
+without being detected? Could she herself have
+dragged it into her bedroom, entangled in the folds
+of her skirt? Was it not near the window, or in her
+basket, or behind the door, or--
+
+Martha, with a shake of her head, put all these
+theories to flight.
+
+"No, it isn't in your room at all, and it isn't anywhere
+else around here; and nobody's been in here
+from the outside; and they couldn't get in if they
+tried, for I bolted the door when we went to bed.
+The only person who has had the run of the place is
+Mr. Dalton, and he--"
+
+"Martha!"
+
+"Well, I wasn't here when he first came, but when
+I opened the door he was peeking behind the china."
+
+"But I had not been inside my room a minute
+before I heard your voice. How could he have taken
+it? You don't think--"
+
+"I don't say what I think, because I don't know,
+but he's mean enough to do anything he could to hurt
+you. How long had he been talking to you when I
+came in?"
+
+"Just long enough for me to run past him and lock
+myself in."
+
+"And how long do you think it would take him to
+steal it, if he thought nobody was looking?"
+
+"But he could not have stolen it, Martha; he was
+on the other side of the room. The box is by the door
+where I left it; you can see it for yourself. Oh what
+shall I do? Where could I have dropped it? It must
+be at the store in that bundle. Mr. Mangan said I
+need not wait, and I did not see him open it. He has
+found it by this time and he is waiting for me. I will
+go right away and see him. Anybody could make a
+mistake like that. He must--he WILL understand when
+I explain it all. Get my cloak and hat, please, Martha.
+I will take the car up and back, and you can have my
+coffee ready for me upon my return. I won't be half
+an hour. Oh! how awful it is, how awful! If I had
+only found it out last night! I had meant to work,
+but I could not after what happened. Mr. Mangan was
+very much put out yesterday, and I know he will be
+furious to-day. No, you need not come with me,"
+and she was gone.
+
+Martha closed the door, walked to the window, and
+stood looking through the panes until the slight figure
+had reached the street, where she caught up her skirt,
+to free her steps the better, and started on a run for
+the car line. When the fragile form was lost in the
+whirl of the traffic, Martha walked slowly to the table
+and sank into a chair, her elbows resting on its top,
+her face in her hand.
+
+The next instant she was on her feet examining
+Lady Barbara's work-basket, wondering what Dalton
+had found in it, wondering, too, why he had looked
+through it. Crossing to the dresser, she moved the
+plates and cups, as he had done, searching for a possible
+note, or perhaps for a duplicate key of their former
+apartment which he might have left for Barbara,
+and then moved toward the door of the smaller chamber,
+behind which her mistress had lain shivering. Her
+eye now fell on the box, the lid awry. She remembered
+that this lid had been in that same position when
+she had ordered the intruder from the room, and that,
+at the time, she had thought it strange that Lady
+Barbara, always so careful, had not fastened it to
+keep the dust from its contents. Stooping closer, she
+examined the various articles. She noted that one
+sleeve of the lace blouse had been lifted from its place,
+while the other sleeve remained snug where her mistress
+had tucked it. In pulling out one of the upper
+pieces, this sleeve must have been caught in its meshes
+and dragged clear. This could only have been done
+by the mantilla which, she distinctly remembered,
+had been laid neatly on top the afternoon before, so as
+to be ready for work in the morning.
+
+"He's got it," she exclaimed in an excited tone,
+replacing the lid. "I'll stake my life he stole it, the
+dirty cur! He's done it to get even with her. She'll
+be back in a little while, half distracted. There is
+going to be trouble, plenty of it. I'll have Stephen
+here right away, and we'll talk it over. I can take
+care of her when she's inside these rooms, but what if
+that man waylays her on the street and raises a row,
+and she goes back to him to smooth over things? This
+has got to stop. She won't live the month out if he
+gets to hounding her again, and now he's found out
+where she is, I shan't have a moment's peace. What
+a hang-dog face he's got on him! And he's a coward,
+too, or he wouldn't have slunk out when I ordered him.
+And he had it on him all the time! I wonder what he'll
+do with it. Hold it over her, I expect; maybe take
+it to Rosenthal's with some lie about her, so they will
+discharge her and she come back to him.
+
+"Maybe--" Here she stopped, and grew suddenly
+grave. "Maybe he'll-- No, I don't think he'd dare
+do that, but I've got to get Stephen, and I'll go for
+him this minute. Going's quicker than a letter, and
+I'll leave word down-stairs where I'm gone, so she'll
+know when she comes in, and I'll fix her coffee so she
+can get it."
+
+Hurrying into her own room, she began changing
+her dress, putting on her shoes, taking her night cloak
+and big, flare bonnet from the hook behind the door,
+talking to herself as she moved.
+
+"It's getting worse all the time, instead of getting
+better. God knows what's to become of her! She's
+most beat out now, and can't stand much more; and
+she's the best of the lot, except Mr. Felix, for she's
+clean inside of her, and only her heart is to blame--
+and that father of hers, Lord Carnavon, with his dirty
+pride, and this scoundrel she's wrecking her life on,
+and all the fine ladies at home who turned up their
+noses at her when half of them are twice as bad--oh,
+I know 'em--you can't fool Martha Munger! I've
+been too long with 'em. And this poor child who--
+Oh! I tell you this is a bad business, and it's getting
+worse--yes, it's getting worse. Rosenthal isn't going
+to stand losing that piece of lace, without its costing
+somebody some money. Stephen's got to come and
+be around evenings while I'm out. And I'll go with
+her to Rosenthal's and fetch her back home, so that
+man Dalton can't frighten the life out of her."
+
+She put the coffee-pot where it would keep hot,
+and laid the cups and saucers ready for her mistress.
+This done, she shut the door, and made her way down-stairs.
+"Tell Mrs. Stanton when she comes in," she
+said to the old woman who acted as janitor, "that
+I've gone to see my brother, and that I'll be back just
+as soon as I can."
+
+All hopes which had cheered Lady Barbara on her
+way to Rosenthal's, even when she climbed the long
+stairs and was ushered into Mangan's small office,
+died out of her heart when she saw the manager's face.
+She had anticipated an outburst of anger, followed by
+a brutal tirade over her carelessness in wrapping up
+the mantilla with the other pieces and leaving it behind
+her the night before. Instead, he came forward to
+meet her--his lean, nervous body twitching with
+expectation.
+
+"Well, this is something like! Didn't think you'd
+turn up for an hour. Let's have it." This with a low
+chuckle--the nearest he ever got to a laugh.
+
+"Something dreadful has happened, Mr. Mangan,"
+she began, stumbling over her words, her knees shaking
+under her. "I thought I had wrapped the mantilla
+up with the pieces I brought you last night, but I
+see now that--"
+
+"You thought! Say, what are you giving me?
+Ain't you got it?"
+
+"I have not, and I don't know what has become of
+it. It was not in the box this morning, and--"
+
+"IT WASN'T IN THE BOX THIS MORNING!" he roared. "See
+here, what kind of a damn fool do you take me for?"
+He wheeled suddenly, caught her by the wrist, dragged
+her clear of the door, and shut it behind her.
+
+"Now, Mrs. Stanton," he said, in cold, incisive
+tones, "let's you and I have this out, and I want to
+tell you right here that I believe you're lying, and I've
+been suspecting it for some time. Now, make a clean
+breast of it. You've pawned it, haven't you?"
+
+"I--pawn it? You think I-- I won't allow you to
+speak to me in that way. I--"
+
+"Oh, cut that out, it won't wash here. Now, listen!
+I've got to get that mantilla, see? And I'm going to
+get it if I go through every pawn-shop in town with a
+fine-tooth comb. I orter to have had better sense than
+to let you take it out of the shop. Now open up, and
+I'll help you straighten out things. Where is it?
+Come, now--no side-tracking."
+
+She had sunk down on the chair, her fingers tightly
+interlocked, his words stunning her like blows. Their
+full meaning she missed in her dazed condition. All she
+knew was that, in some way, she must defend herself.
+
+"Mr. Mangan, will you please listen to me? I have
+not pawned it, and I would never dream of doing such
+a thing. I can only think that some one has taken it
+from the box--I don't know who. I came to you the
+moment I discovered the loss. I thought perhaps I
+had wrapped it up with the other pieces I brought you
+last night, or that I had dropped it in the street on my
+way here. And, yet, none of these things seemed possible
+when I began to think about it. I will do all I can
+to pay for it. You can take its value from my work
+until it is all paid."
+
+Mangan, who had been pacing the floor, hearing
+nothing of her explanation--his mind intent upon his
+next move--dragged a chair next to hers.
+
+"Now, pull yourself together for a minute, Mrs.
+Stanton. I'm not going to be ugly. I'm going to make
+this just as easy as I can for you. You've got a lot
+of common sense, and you're some different from the
+women who handle our stuff. I've seen that, and that's
+why I've trusted you. Now, think of me a little.
+That mantilla don't belong to Rosenthal's. It belongs
+to a big customer who lives up near the Park, and who
+left it here on condition we had it mended on time.
+It's worth $250 if it's worth a cent, and it's worth a
+lot more to me, because I lose my job if I don't get
+hold of it to-day. It's a New Year's present and has
+got to be sent home to-night. Now, don't that make
+things look a little different to you? And now, one
+thing more, and I'm going to put it up to you, just
+between ourselves, and nobody will get onto it--
+nobody around here. If it's a matter of ten or fifteen
+dollars, I've got the money right here in my clothes.
+And you can slip out and I'll keep close behind, and
+you can go in and get it, and I'll bring it back here,
+and that's all there will be to it. Now, be decent to me.
+I've been decent to you ever since you come here.
+Ain't that so?"
+
+Lady Barbara had now begun to understand. This
+man was accusing her of lying, if not of theft, while
+she sat powerless before him, incapable of speech.
+Once, as the horror of his suspicion rose before her,
+she felt a wild impulse to cry out, even to throw herself
+on his mercy--telling him her story and Martha's
+suspicions. Then the recollection of the cunning of
+the man, his vulgarity, his insincerity, slowly steadied
+her. Her secret must be kept, and she must not anger
+him further.
+
+"Perhaps, Mr. Mangan, if you came with me to
+my rooms, and saw my old--" she paused, then added
+softly, "the old woman I live with, and I showed you
+where the box is always kept and the way the door
+opens, perhaps you could help us to find out how it
+could have happened."
+
+Mangan rose and pushed back his chair. "Well,
+you are the limit!" he gritted between his teeth.
+"I guess I'm in for it. The old man will be howling
+mad, and I don't blame him."
+
+He walked to his desk, picked up his telephone, and,
+in a restrained voice, said: "Send Pickert up here.
+I'm in my office. Tell him there's something doing."
+
+Lady Barbara rose from her chair and stood waiting.
+She did not know who Pickert was nor whether her
+pleading had moved Mangan, who had now resumed
+his seat at the desk, piled high with papers, one of
+which he was studying closely.
+
+"And you don't think it will do any good if you
+come to my room?"
+
+Mangan shook his head.
+
+"And shall I wait any longer?" she continued.
+The words were barely audible. She knew her dismissal
+had come and that she must face another
+dreary hunt for new work.
+
+Mangan did not raise his head. "Sit down. I'll
+tell you when I'm through."
+
+The door opened and a thick-set man, in a brown
+suit and derby hat, stepped in.
+
+Mangan wheeled his chair and fronted the two.
+"This woman, Pickert, is carried on our pay-roll as
+Mrs. Stanton. She's got a room off St. Mark's Place.
+Here's the number. About a week ago I gave her a
+lace mantilla to fix, something good--worth over $200
+--and every day she's been coming here with a new lie.
+Now she says she's lost it. She's either got it down
+where she lives or she's pawned it. I've done what I
+could to save her, but she sticks to it. Better take
+some one from the office, down-stairs, with you. Maybe
+when she thinks it over she'll come to her senses.
+Take her along with you. I'm through."
+
+As the man stepped forward, Lady Barbara sprang
+away from his touch. "You do not mean you are
+going to let this man take me--Mr. Mangan, you must
+not, you shall not! You would not commit that outrage.
+Do you mean--?"
+
+Pickert made a gesture of disgust, his fingers outspread.
+"Keep all that for the captain. It won't cut
+any ice here, and you'd better not talk. Now come
+along, and don't make any fuss. If it's a mistake,
+you can clear it up at the station-house. I ain't going
+to touch you. You keep ahead until you get to the
+street-door. I'll be right behind, and meet you on
+the sidewalk."
+
+Lady Barbara drew herself up proudly. "I won't
+allow it!" she cried; "what I told you--"
+
+Pickert swaggered closer. "Drop that, will you?
+I got my orders. You heard 'em, didn't you? Will
+you go easy, or shall I have to--" and he half dragged
+a pair of handcuffs from his side pocket. "Now, you
+do just as I tell you; it'll all come right, and there
+won't nobody know what's goin' on. You get to
+hollerin' and mussin' up things and there'll be trouble,
+see? Open that door now, and walk out just as if
+everything was reg'lar."
+
+
+
+
+Chapter XX
+
+
+
+The routine of Felix's daily life had been broken
+this morning by the receipt of a letter. The postman
+had handed it to him as he crossed the street from
+Kitty's to Kling's, the tramp who was sweeping the
+sidewalk having pointed him out.
+
+"That's him," cried the tramp. "That's Mr. O'Day.
+Catch him before he gets inside his place, or you'll
+lose him. Here, I'll take it."
+
+"You'll take nothin'. Get out of my way."
+
+"For me?" asked Felix, coloring slightly as the
+postman accosted him.
+
+"Yes, if you're Mr. O'Day."
+
+"I'm afraid I am. Thank you. If you have any
+others, bring them here to Mr. Kling's, where I can
+always be found during the day."
+
+He glanced at the seal and the address, but kept
+it in his hands until he reached Kling's counter, where
+he settled into a chair, and with the greatest care slit
+the envelope with his knife. A year had passed since
+he had received a letter, nor had he expected any.
+
+He read it through to the end, turning the pages
+again, rereading certain passages, his face giving no
+hint of the contents, folded the sheets, put them back
+in the envelope, and slid the whole into his inside
+pocket. After a little he rose, stood for a moment
+watching Fudge, who, now that Masie had gone to
+school, had taken up his customary place in the window,
+his nose pressed against the pane. Then, as if some
+sudden resolve had seized him, he walked quickly to
+the rear of the store in search of his employer.
+
+Otto was poring over his books, his bald head
+glistening under the rays of the gas-jet, which he had
+lighted to assist him in his work, the morning being
+dark.
+
+"I have been wanting to talk to you for some time,
+Mr. Kling, about Masie," he began abruptly. "I may
+be going home to England, perhaps for a few weeks,
+perhaps longer, and I should like to take her with me.
+I have a sister who would look after her, and the trip
+would do her a world of good. I have been wanting
+to do this for a long time, but I am a little freer now
+to carry out the plan I had for her. And so I have
+come to propose it to you."
+
+Otto listened gravely, his fat features frozen into
+calm. This clerk of his had made him many startling
+propositions, and every surrender had brought
+him profit. But turning over Beesving to him meant
+something so different that the father in him stood
+aghast. Yet his old habit of deference did not desert
+him when at last he spoke:
+
+"Vell, vat vill I do? You knew I don't got notin'
+but Beesving. Don't she get everytin' vere she is?
+I do all de schoolin' and de clothes and Aunty Gossburger
+look after her. Vhen she gets older maybe
+perhaps she vould like a trip. And den maybe ve
+both go and leave you here to mind de shop in de
+summer-time. But now she's notin' but jus' Beesving,
+vid her head full of skippin' aroun'. No, I don't tink
+I can do dat for you. I do most anytin' for you, but
+my little girl, you see, dat come pretty close. Dat
+make a awful hole in me if Beesving go avay. No,
+you mustn't ask me dot."
+
+"Not if it were for her good?"
+
+"Yes, vell, of course, but how do I know dot?
+And vot you vant to go avay for? Dot's more vorse
+as Beesving. Ain't I pay you enough? Maybe you
+vants a little interest in de business? I vas tinkin'
+about dat only yesterday. Ve vill talk about dot
+sometimes."
+
+Felix laughed gently.
+
+"No, I don't wish any interest in the business.
+You pay me quite enough for the work I do, and I am
+quite willing to continue to serve you as long as I can.
+But Masie should not be brought up in these surroundings
+much longer. Perhaps you would be willing to
+send her to a good school away from here, if I could
+arrange it. Either here or in England."
+
+Otto threw up his hands; he was becoming indignant,
+his mind more and more set against Felix's proposition.
+
+"Vell, but vat's de matter vid de school she has
+now? She is more dan on de top of all de classes. De
+superintendent told me so ven he vas in here last veek
+buying Christmas presents. I sold him dat old chair
+you got Hans to put a new leg on. You remember dot
+chair. Vell, dat vas better as a new von vhen Hans got
+trough. Hadn't been for you, dot old chair vould be
+kicking around now, and I vouldn't have de fifteen
+dollars he paid me for it. I vish sometimes you look
+around for more chairs like dot."
+
+Felix nodded in assent, reading the Dutchman's
+obstinate mind in the shopkeeper's sudden return to
+business questions. If Masie's future was to be
+helped, another hand than his own must be stretched
+out. He turned on his heel, and was about to regain
+his chair, when Otto, craning his head, called out:
+
+"Dot's Father Cruse comin' in. You ask him now
+vonce about dis goin' avay bizness. He tell you same
+as me."
+
+The priest was now abreast of Felix, who had
+stepped forward to greet him, Otto watching their
+movements. The two stood talking in a low voice,
+Felix's eyes downcast as if in deep thought, the priest
+apparently urging some plan, which O'Day, by his
+manner, seemed to favor. They were too far off, and
+spoke too low, for Otto to catch the drift of the talk,
+and it was only when Felix, who had followed the
+priest outside the door, had returned that he called,
+from his high seat under the gas-jet: "Vell, vat did
+Father Cruse say?"
+
+Felix drew his brows together. "Say about what?"
+he asked, as if the question had surprised him.
+
+"About Beesving. Didn't you ask him?"
+
+"No, we talked of other things," replied Felix and,
+turning on his heel, occupied himself about the shop.
+
+Across the street meanwhile Kitty's own plans had
+also gone astray this winter's morning--so many of
+them, in fact, that she was at her wits' end which way
+to turn. A trunk had been left at the wrong address,
+and John had been two hours looking for it. Bobby
+had come home from school with a lump on his head
+as big as a hen's egg, where some "gas-house kid,"
+as Bobby expressed it, "had fetched him a crack."
+Mike, on his way down from the Grand Central,
+knowing that John was away with the other horse
+and Kitty worrying, had urged big Jim to gallop,
+and, in his haste, had bowled over a ten-year-old boy
+astride of a bicycle, and, worse yet, the entire outfit
+--big Jim, wagon, Mike, boy, bicycle, and the boy's
+father--were at that precise moment lined up in front
+of the captain's desk at the 35th Street police station.
+
+The arrest did not trouble Kitty. She knew the
+captain and the captain knew her. If bail were needed,
+there were half a dozen men within fifty yards of where
+she stood who would gladly furnish it. Mike was careless,
+anyhow, and a little overhauling would do him
+good.
+
+What did trouble her was the tying up of big Jim
+and her wagon at a time when she needed them most.
+Nobody knew when John would be back, and there
+was the stuff piling up, and not a soul to handle it.
+She stood, leaning over her short counter, trying to
+decide what to do first. She could not ask Felix to
+help her. He was tired out with the holiday sales.
+Nor was there anybody else on whom she could put
+her hands. It was Porterfield's busy time, and Codman
+had all he could jump to. No, she could not
+ask them. Here she stepped out on the sidewalk to
+get a broader view of the situation, her mind intent
+on solving the problem.
+
+At that same instant she saw Kling's door swing
+wide and Father Cruse step out, Felix beside him.
+The two shook each other's hands in parting, Felix
+going back into the shop, and Father Cruse taking the
+short-cut across the street to where Kitty stood--an
+invariable custom of his whenever he found himself
+in her neighborhood.
+
+Instantly her anxiety vanished. "Look at it!"
+she cried enthusiastically. "Can you beat it? There
+he comes. God must 'a' sent him!" Then, as she ran
+to meet him: "Oh, Father, but it's better than a pair
+o' sore eyes to see ye! I'm all balled up wi' trouble.
+John's huntin' a lost trunk. Bobby's up-stairs with
+a slab o' raw beef on his head. Mike's locked up for
+runnin' over a boy. And my big Jim and my wagon
+is tied up outside the station, till it's all straightened
+out. Will ye help me?"
+
+"I am on my way now to the police station," said
+the priest in his kindest voice.
+
+"Oh, then, ye heard o' Mike?"
+
+"Not a word. But I often drop in there of a morning.
+Many of the night arrests need counsel outside the
+law, and sometimes I can be of service. Is the boy
+badly hurt?"
+
+"No, he hollered too loud when the wheel struck
+him, so they tell me. He's not half as bad as Bobby,
+I warrant, who hasn't let a squeak out o' him. Will
+ye please put in a word for me, Father? I can't leave
+here or I'd go meself. I don't care if the captain holds
+on to Mike for a while, so he lets me have big Jim and
+the wagon. John will be up to go bail as soon as he
+gets back, if the captain wants it, which he won't, when
+he finds out who Mike is. Oh, that's a good soul! I
+knew ye'd help me. An' how did ye find Mr. Felix?"--
+a new anxiety now filling her mind.
+
+The priest's face clouded. "Oh, very well; he
+spent last evening with me."
+
+"Oh, that was it, was it? An' were ye trampin'
+the streets with him, too? It was pretty nigh daylight
+when he come in. I always know, for he wakes me
+when he shuts his door."
+
+The priest, evidently absorbed in some strain of
+thought, parried her question with another: "And
+so the boy was not badly hurt? Well, that is something
+to be thankful for. Perhaps I may know his
+people. I will send Mike and the wagon back to you,
+if I can. Good-by." And he touched his hat, passing
+up the street with his long, even stride, the skirt of
+his black cassock clinging to his knees.
+
+
+The arrest, so far as could be seen from Mike's general
+deportment, had not troubled that gentleman in
+the least. He had nodded pleasantly to the captain,
+who, in return, had frowned severely at him while the
+father of the boy was making the complaint; had
+winked good-naturedly at him the moment the accuser
+had left the room; had asked after Kitty and John,
+motioned to him to stay around until somebody put in
+an appearance to go bail, and had then busied himself
+with more important matters. A thick-set man,
+in a brown suit and derby hat, accompanied by an
+officer and another man, had brought in a frail woman,
+looking as if life were slowly ebbing out of her; and
+the four were in a row before his desk. The usual
+questions were asked and answered by the detective
+and the clerk--the nature of the charge, the name
+and address of the party robbed, the name and address
+of the accused--and the entries properly made.
+
+During the hearing, the frail woman had stood with
+bent head, dazed and benumbed. When her name
+was asked, she had made no answer nor did she give
+her residence. "I am an Englishwoman," was all
+she had said.
+
+Mike, now privileged to enjoy the freedom of the
+room, had been watching the proceedings with increasing
+interest, so much so that he had edged up
+to the group, as close as he dared, where he could get
+the light full on the woman. When the words, "I
+am an Englishwoman," fell from her lips, he let out
+an oath, and slapped his thigh with the fiat of his hand.
+"Of course it is! I thought I know'd her when she
+come in. English, is she? What a lot o' lies they do
+be puttin' up. She never saw England. She's a dago
+from 'cross town. Won't Mrs. Cleary's eyes pop
+when I tell her!"
+
+The group in front of the captain's desk disintegrated.
+The woman, still silent, was led away to the cell.
+Rosenthal's clerk, who had made the charge for the
+firm, had come round to the captain's side of the desk
+to sign some papers. Pickert and the officer had
+already disappeared through the street-door. At this
+juncture the priest entered. His presence was noted
+by every man in the room, most of whom rose to their
+feet, some removing their hats.
+
+"Good-morning, captain," he said, including with
+his bow the other people present. "I have just left
+Mrs. Cleary, who tells me that one of her men is in
+trouble. Ah! I see him now. Is there anything that
+I can do for him?"
+
+"Nothing, your reverence; the boy's not much hurt.
+I don't think it was Mike's fault, from the testimony,
+but it's a case of bail, all right."
+
+"I am afraid, captain, she is not worrying so much
+about our poor Mike here as she is about the horse
+and wagon. These she needs, for Mr. Cleary is away,
+and there is no one to help her. Perhaps you would be
+good enough to send an officer with Mike, and let them
+drive back to her?"
+
+"I guess that won't be necessary, your reverence.
+See here, Mike, get into your wagon and take it back
+to the stable, and bring somebody with you to go bail.
+We didn't want the wagon, only there was no place
+to leave it, and we knew they would send up for it
+sooner or later. It's outside now."
+
+"Thank you, captain. And now, Mike, be very
+sure you come back," exclaimed the priest, with an
+admonishing finger; "do you hear?" He always liked
+the Irishman.
+
+Mike grinned the width of his face, caught up his
+cap, and made for the door. The priest watched him
+until he had cleared the room, then, leaning over the
+desk, asked: "Anything for me this morning, captain?"
+
+"No, your reverence, not that I can see. Two
+drunks come in with the first batch, and a couple of
+crooks who had been working the 'elevated'; and a
+woman, a shoplifter. Got away with a piece of lace--
+a mantilla, they called it, whatever that is. She's
+just gone down to wait for the four o'clock delivery.
+It's a case of grand larceny. They say the lace is
+worth $250. Wasn't that about it?"
+
+Rosenthal's man bobbed his head. He had not
+lifted his hat to the priest, and seemed to regard him
+with suspicion.
+
+"What sort of a looking woman is she?" continued
+the priest.
+
+"Oh, the same old kind; they're all alike. Nothing
+to say--too smart for that. I guess she stole it, all
+right. All I could get out of her was that she was an
+Englishwoman, but she didn't look it."
+
+The priest lowered his head, an expression of suddenly
+awakened interest on his face. "May I see her?"
+he asked, in an eager tone.
+
+"Why, sure! Bunky, take Father Cruse down.
+He wants to talk to that Englishwoman."
+
+To most unfortunates, whether innocent or guilty,
+the row of polished steel bars which open and close
+upon those in the grip of the law, are poised rifles
+awaiting the order to fire. To a woman like Lady
+Barbara, these guarded a dark and loathsome tomb,
+in which her last hope lay buried. That she had not
+deserved the punishment meted out to her did not
+soothe her agony. She had deserved none of Dalton's
+cruelty, and yet she had withered under its lash. This
+was the end; beyond, lay only a slow, lingering death,
+with her torture increasing as the hours crept on.
+
+The sound of the turnkey's hand on the lock roused
+her to consciousness.
+
+"Bring her outside where I can talk to her," said
+Father Cruse, pointing to a bench in the corridor.
+
+She followed the guard mechanically, as a whipped
+spaniel follows its master, her steps dragging, her body
+trembling, her head bowed as if awaiting some new
+humiliation. She had no strength to resist. Something
+in the priest's quiet, in the way he trod beside
+her, seemed to have reassured her, for as she sank on
+the bench beside him, she leaned over, laid one hand
+on his sleeve, and asked feebly: "Are they going to
+let me go?"
+
+"That I cannot say, my good woman; I can only
+hope so." He looked toward the guard. "Better
+leave us for a while, Bunky." The turnkey touched
+his cap and mounted the narrow iron steps to the
+room above.
+
+Father Cruse waited until the footsteps had ceased
+to echo in the corridor, and then turned to Lady
+Barbara. "And now tell me something about yourself;
+have you no friends you can send for? I will see they
+get your message. The captain told me you were
+English. Is this true?"
+
+She had withdrawn her hand and now sat with
+averted face, the faint flicker of hope his presence
+had enkindled extinguished by his evasive answer.
+Only when he repeated the question did she reply,
+and then in a mere whisper, without lifting her head:
+"Yes, I am English."
+
+"And your people, are they where you can reach
+them?"
+
+She did not answer; there was nothing to be gained
+by yielding to his curiosity. Nor did she intend to
+reply to any more of his questions. He was only one
+of those kind priests who looked after the poor and
+whose sympathy, however well meant, would be of
+little value. If she told him how cruel had been the
+wrong done her, and how unjust had been her arrest,
+it would make no difference; he could not help her.
+
+"There must be somebody," he urged. He had
+read her indecision in the nervous play of her fingers,
+as he had read many another human emotion in his
+time. "There must be somebody," he repeated.
+
+"There is only Martha," she answered at last,
+yielding to his influence. "She was my nurse when I
+was a child. She is as poor as I am. She will come to
+me if you will send word to her. They would not
+listen to me at Rosenthal's when I begged them to
+bring her to the store." She lifted her head and stared
+wildly about her. "Oh, the injustice of it all--and
+the awful horror of this place! How can men do such
+things? I told them the truth, Father, I told them
+the truth. I never stole it. How could I ever steal
+anything? How dared he speak to me as he did?"
+
+She turned, straining her whole body as if in mortal
+anguish; then, with her shoulder against the hard,
+whitewashed wall, she broke at last into sobs.
+
+The priest sat still, waiting and watching, as a
+surgeon does a patient slowly emerging from delirium.
+
+"Men are seldom reasonable, my good woman,
+when they lose their property, and they often do
+things which they regret afterward. Of what were
+you accused?"
+
+His tone reassured her, and, for the first time, she
+looked directly at him. "Of stealing a mantilla which
+I had taken to my rooms to repair."
+
+"Whose was it?"
+
+"Rosenthal's, for whom I worked."
+
+"The large store near by here, on Third Avenue?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Father Cruse lapsed once more into silence, absorbed
+in a study of certain salient points of her person--
+her way of sitting and of folding her hands, her thin,
+delicately modelled frame, the pallor of her oval face,
+with its mobile mouth, the singular whiteness of her
+teeth, and the blue of her eyes, shaded by the cheap,
+black-straw hat which hid her forehead. Then he
+glanced at her feet, one of which protruded from her
+coarse skirt--no larger than a child's.
+
+When he spoke again, it was in a positive way,
+as if his inspection had caused him to adopt a definite
+course which he would now follow. "This old nurse
+of yours, this woman you called Martha, does she
+know of any one who could get bail for you? You
+can only stay here for a few hours, and then they will
+take you to the Tombs, unless some one can go bail.
+I know the Rosenthals, and they would, I think,
+listen to any reasonable proposition."
+
+"Would they let me go home, then?"
+
+"Yes, until your trial came off."
+
+She shuddered, hugging herself the closer. Her
+mind had not gone that far. It was the present horror
+that had confronted her, not a trial in court.
+
+"Martha has a brother," she said at last, "who
+has a business of some kind, and who might help. If
+you will bring her to me, she can find him."
+
+"You don't remember what his business is?" he
+continued.
+
+"I think it is something to do with fitting out ships.
+He was once a mate on one of my father's vessels
+and--"
+
+She stopped abruptly, frightened now at her own
+indiscretion. She had been wrong in wanting to send
+for Stephen, even in referring to him. Whatever befell
+her, she was determined that her people at home should
+not suffer further on her account.
+
+Father Cruse had caught the look, and his heart
+gave a bound, though no gesture betrayed him. "You
+have not told me your name," he said simply--as if
+it were a matter of routine in cases like hers.
+
+She glanced at him quickly. "Does it make any
+difference?"
+
+"It might. I do not believe you are a criminal,
+but if I am to help you as I want to do, I must know
+the truth."
+
+She thought for a moment. Here was something
+she could not escape. The assumed name had so far
+shielded her. She would brave it out as she had done
+before.
+
+"They call me Mrs. Stanton."
+
+"Is that your true name?"
+
+The Carnavons were imperious, unforgiving, and
+sometimes brutal. Many of them had been roues,
+gamblers, and spendthrifts, but none of them had ever
+been a liar.
+
+"No!" she answered firmly.
+
+Father Cruse settled back in his seat. The ring of
+sincerity in the woman's "No" had removed his last
+doubt. "You do very wrong, my good woman, not
+to tell me the whole truth," he remarked, with some
+emphasis. "I am a priest, as you see, and attached to
+the Church of St. Barnabas--not far from here. I visit
+this station-house almost every morning, seeing what
+I can do to help people just like yourself. I will go
+to Rosenthal, and then I will find your old nurse, and
+I will try to have your case delayed until your nurse
+can get hold of her brother. But that is really all I
+can do until I have your entire confidence. I am
+convinced that you are a woman who has been well
+brought up, and that this is your first experience in a
+place of this kind. I hope it will be the last; I hope,
+too, that the charge made against you will be proved
+false. But does not all this make you realize that you
+should be frank with me?"
+
+She drew herself up with a certain dignity infinitely
+pathetic, yet in which, like the flavor of some old wine
+left in a drained glass, there lingered the aroma of her
+family traditions. "I am very grateful, sir, to you.
+I know you only want to be kind, but please do not
+ask me to tell you anything more. It would only
+make other people unhappy. There is no one but
+myself to blame for my poverty, and for all I have gone
+through. What is to become of me I do not know, but
+I cannot make my people suffer any more. Do not
+ask me."
+
+"It might end their suffering," he replied quickly.
+"I have a case in point now where a man has been
+searching New York for months, hoping to get news
+of his wife, who left him nearly a year ago. He comes
+in to see me every few nights and we often tramp the
+streets together. My work takes me into places she
+would be apt to frequent, so he comes with me. He
+and I were up last night until quite late. He has nothing
+in his heart but pity for that poor woman, who he
+fears has been left stranded by the man she trusted.
+So far he has heard nothing of her. I left him hardly
+an hour ago. Now, there, you see, is a case where
+just a word of frankness and truth might have ended
+all their sufferings. I told Mr. O'Day this morning,
+when I left him, that--"
+
+She had grown paler and paler during the long
+recital, her wide-open eyes staring into his, her bosom
+heaving with suppressed excitement, until at the mention
+of Felix's name, she staggered to her feet, and
+cried: "You know Felix O'Day?"
+
+"Yes, thank God, I do, and you are his wife, Lady
+Barbara O'Day, Lord Carnavon's daughter."
+
+She cowered like a trapped animal, uncertain which
+way to spring. In her agony she shrank against the
+wall, her arms outstretched. How did this man know
+all the secrets of her life? Then there arose a calming
+thought. He was a priest--a man who listened and
+did not betray. Perhaps, after all, he could help her.
+He wanted the truth. He should have it.
+
+"Yes," she answered, her voice sinking. "I am
+Lord Carnavon's daughter."
+
+"And Felix O'Day's wife?"
+
+"And Felix O'Day's wife," came the echo, and,
+with the last word, her last vestige of strength seemed
+to leave her.
+
+The priest rose to his full height. "I was sure of
+it when I first saw you," he said, a note of triumph
+in his voice. "And now, one last question. Are you
+guilty of this theft?"
+
+"GUILTY! I guilty! How could I be?" The denial
+came with a lift of the head, her eyes kindling, her
+bosom heaving.
+
+"I believe you. There is not a moment to be lost."
+The priest and father confessor were gone now; it was
+the man of affairs who was speaking. "I will see
+Rosenthal at once, and then send for your nurse. Give
+me her address."
+
+When he had written it, he stepped to the foot of
+the stairs, and called to one of the guards. Then he
+slipped his hand under his cassock, drew out his watch,
+noted the hour, and in a firm voice--one intended to
+be obeyed--said:
+
+"Go back into your cell and sit there until I come.
+Do not worry if I am away longer than I expect, and
+do not be frightened when the key is turned on you.
+It is best that you be locked up for a while. You
+should give thanks to God, my dear woman, that I
+have found you."
+
+
+
+
+Chapter XXI
+
+
+
+The news of Mike's arrest had been received by
+kitty's neighbors with varying degrees of indifference.
+Everybody realized that, as the run-over boy had lost
+nothing but his breath--and but little of that, judging
+from his vigorous howl when Mike picked him up--
+nothing would come of the affair so long as the present
+captain ruled the precinct. Kitty and John and all
+who belonged to them were too popular around the
+station; too many of the boys had slipped in and
+slipped out of a cold night, warmed up by the contents
+of her coffee-pot.
+
+Indeed, between the captain and the denizens of
+"The Avenue," only the most friendly, amicable, and
+delightful personal relations prevailed. To the habitual
+criminal, the sneak-thief, and the hold-up, he might
+be a mailed despot swinging a mailed fist, but to the
+occasional "Monday drunk," or the man who had
+had the best or the worst of it in a fight, or to one like
+Mike who was the victim of an unavoidable accident,
+he was only a heathen idol of justice behind which
+sat a big-waisted, tightly belted man whose wife and
+daughters everybody knew as he himself knew everybody
+in return; who belonged to the same lodge, played
+poker in the same up-stairs room when off duty, and
+was as tender-hearted in time of trouble as any one
+of their other acquaintances. Not to have allowed
+Mike, a man he knew, a man who had been Kitty and
+John's driver for years, to hunt up his own bond, would
+have been as unwise and impossible as his releasing a
+burglar on straw bail, or a murderer because the dead
+man could not make a complaint.
+
+When, therefore, Mike burst into the kitchen with
+the additional information that "the cap" had let
+him go to bring back the wagon and somebody with
+"cash" enough to go bail, a general movement,
+headed by Tim Kelsey, who happened to be passing
+at the time, was immediately organized--Tim to proceed
+at once to the station-house, take the captain
+on one side, and so end the matter. Locking up Mike,
+even threatening him, was, as the captain knew, an
+invasion of the rights of "The Avenue." Nobody
+within its confines had ever been entangled in the
+meshes of the law--simply because nobody had wanted
+to break it. It was the howling boy who should have
+been locked up for getting under Mike's wheels, or his
+father who ought to have kept his son off the street.
+
+Mike listened impatiently to the discussion and,
+watching his chance, beckoned to Kitty, shut the door
+upon the two, and poured into her ear a full account
+of what he had seen and heard at the station-house.
+
+"Well, what's that got to do with it?" Kitty demanded.
+"What did she have to do with the boy?"
+
+"Nothing, don't I tell ye--she's been swipin' a department
+store, and they got her dead to rights."
+
+"Who's been swipin'? What are ye talkin' about,
+Mike? Stop it now--I've got a lot to do, and--"
+
+"The woman ye put to bed that night. The one
+ye picked up near St. Barnabas, and brought in here
+and dried her off. She skipped in the mornin' without
+sayin' 'thank ye'--why, ye must remember her!
+She was--"
+
+Kitty clapped her two palms to her face, framing
+her bulging eyes--a favorite gesture when she was
+taken completely by surprise.
+
+"That woman!" she cried, staring at Mike. "Where
+is she now? Tell me--"
+
+"I don't know--but she--"
+
+"Ye don't know, and ye come down here with this
+yarn? Don't ye try and fool me, Mike, or I'll break
+every bone in yer skin. Go on, now! How do ye
+know it's the same woman?"
+
+"I'm tellin' ye no lies. Come back with me and see
+for yerself. The cap will let ye go down and talk to
+her. I heard Father Cruse tell ye to keep an eye out
+for her if she ever came around here agin. Ye got to
+hurry or they'll have her in the Black Maria on the
+way to the Tombs. Bunky told me so."
+
+Kitty stood in deep meditation. She remembered
+that Mike had been in the kitchen when the woman
+sat by the stove. She remembered, too, that Father
+Cruse had cautioned her to send word to the rectory
+if the poor creature came again and, if there were
+not time to reach him, then to tell Mr. O'Day. That
+the priest had not run across the woman at the station-house
+was evident, or he would have sent word by
+Mike. She would herself find out and then act.
+
+"But ye must have seen Father Cruse. Did he
+send any word?"
+
+"Yes, he come in just as I was leavin'. It was him
+who told me to be sure to hurry back. See the horse
+gits some water, will ye? I got to go back."
+
+"Hold on--what did the Father say about the
+woman?"
+
+"Nothin', don't I tell ye?--he didn't see her. They'd
+locked her up before he came."
+
+"Why didn't ye tell him who it was?"
+
+"How was I a-goin' to tell him when the cap told
+me to git?"
+
+"Go on, then, wid ye! If the Father's still there,
+tell him I'm a-comin' up, and will bring Mr. O'Day
+wid me, and to hold on till I get there."
+
+She took her wraps from a peg behind the door,
+threw it wide, and joined her neighbors in the office,
+composing her face as best she could.
+
+"I've got to go over to Otto Kling's," she announced
+bluntly, without any attempt at apologies. "Some one
+of ye must go up and bail Mike out--any one of ye
+will do. Mr. Kelsey spoke first, so maybe he'd better
+go. I'd go myself and sign the bond only I'm no good,
+for I don't own a blessed thing in the world, except
+the shoes I stand in--and they're half-soled and not
+paid for; John's got the rest. I'll be there later on, ye
+can tell the captain. Mr. Codman, please send over
+one of your boys to mind my place. John ain't turned
+up and won't for an hour. That trunk went to Astoria
+instead of the Astor House, bad 'cess to it, and
+that's about as far apart as it could git. And, Mike,
+don't stand there with yer tongue out! And don't let
+Toodles go with ye. Get back as quick as ye can--
+and tell the captain to make it easy for me, that if
+the boy's badly hurt I'll go and nurse him if he ain't
+got anybody to take care of him. Git out, ye varmint
+--thank ye, Tim Kelsey, I'll do as much for you next
+time ye have to go to jail. Good-by"--and she kept
+on to Kling's.
+
+Otto's store was full of customers when Kitty strode
+in. Even little Masie had been pressed into service to
+help on with the sales, as well as one of the "Dutchies"
+whom Kling had brought up from the cellar. The
+few remaining hours of the old year were fast disappearing
+and the crowd of buyers, intent on securing
+some small remembrance for those they loved, or
+more important gifts with which to welcome the New
+Year, thronged the store and upper floor.
+
+Kitty made straight for Felix, who was leaning over
+the low counter, absorbed in the sale of some old
+silver. His disappointment over Kling's rebuff regarding
+Masie's future had been greatly lightened,
+relieved by his talk with Father Cruse an hour before,
+and he had again thrown himself into his work with
+a determination to make the last days of the year a
+success for his employer,--all the more necessary
+when he remembered his plans for the child. The customer,
+an important one, was trying to make up her
+mind as to the choice between two pieces, and Felix
+was evidently intent on not hurrying her.
+
+He had seen Kitty when she opened the door and
+approached the counter, had noticed her excitement
+when she stopped in front of him, and knew that something
+out of the ordinary had sent her to him at this,
+the busiest part of his own and her day. But his
+only sign of recognition was the lift of an eyelid and
+a slight movement of his hand, the palm turned toward
+her, a gesture which told as plainly as could be that,
+while he was glad to see her--something she was never
+in doubt of--the present moment was ill adapted to
+protracted conversation.
+
+Kitty, however, was not built on diplomatic lines.
+What she wanted she wanted at once. When she had
+something vital to accomplish she went straight at
+it, and certainly nothing more vital than her present
+mission had come her way for weeks.
+
+That the news she carried had something to do with
+O'Day's happiness, she was convinced, or Father Cruse
+would not have been so insistent. That the woman
+herself was, in some way, connected with his misfortunes,
+she also suspected--and had done so, in
+reality, ever since the night on which she gave him
+the sleeve-links. She had not said so to John; she
+had not hinted as much to Father Cruse; but she
+had never dismissed the possibility from her mind.
+
+"I'm sorry, ma'am," she said, ignoring Felix and
+going straight to the cause of the embargo, "but
+couldn't ye let me have Mr. O'Day for a few minutes?
+I've somethin' very partic'lar to say to him."
+
+"Why, Mistress Kitty--" began Felix, smiling at
+her audacity, the customer also regarding her with
+amused curiosity.
+
+"Yes, Mr. O'Day, I wouldn't butt in if I could help
+it. Excuse me, ma'am, but there's Otto just got loose,
+and--Otto, come over here and take care of this lady
+who is goin' to let me have Mr. O'Day for half an hour.
+Thank ye, ma'am, you don't know me, but I'm Kitty
+Cleary, the expressman's wife, from across the street,
+and I'm always mixin' in where I don't belong and I
+know ye'll forgive me. Otto'll charge ye twice the
+price Mr. O'Day would, but he can't help it because
+he's Dutch. Oh, Otto, I know ye!"
+
+Felix laughed outright. "Thank you, Mr. Kling,"
+he said, yielding his place to his employer, "and if you
+will excuse me, madam," and he bowed to his customer,
+"I will see what it is all about--and now, Mistress
+Kitty, what can I do for you?"
+
+Kitty backed away toward the door, so that a huge
+wardrobe shielded her from Otto and his customer.
+
+"Come near, Mr. O'Day," she whispered, all her
+forced humor gone. "I've got the woman who dropped
+the sleeve-buttons."
+
+Felix swayed unsteadily, and gripped a chair-back
+for support.
+
+"You've got--the woman-- What do you mean?"
+he said at last.
+
+"Mike saw her at the police-station. They've put
+her in a cell."
+
+"Arrested?"
+
+"Yes, for stealin'."
+
+Involuntarily his fingers brushed his throat as if
+he were choking, but no words came. He had been
+all his life accustomed to surprises, some of them
+appalling, but against this, for the instant, he had no
+power to stand.
+
+Kitty stood watching the quivering of his lips
+and the drawn, strained muscles about his jaw and
+neck as his will power whipped them back to their
+normal shape. She was convinced now of the truth
+of her suspicions--the woman was not only interwoven
+with his past, but was closely identified with his present
+anguish.
+
+She drew closer, her voice rising. "Ye'll go with me,
+won't ye, Mr. Felix?" she went on, hiding under an
+assumed indifference all recognition of his struggle.
+"Father Cruse told me if I ever come across her again,
+and there wasn't time to get hold of him, to let ye
+know."
+
+"I will go anywhere, where Father Cruse thinks
+I should, Mrs. Cleary--especially in cases of this kind,
+where I may be of use." The words had come from
+between partly closed lips; his hands were still tightly
+clinched. "And you say she was arrested--for
+stealing?"
+
+"Yes, shopliftin', they call it. Poor creatures, they
+get that miserable and trodden on they don't know
+right from wrong!"
+
+Then, as if to give him time in which to recover
+himself fully, she went on, speaking rapidly: "And,
+after all, it may only be a put-up job or a mistake.
+Half the women they pinch in them big stores ain't
+reg'lar thieves. They get tempted, or they can't find
+anybody to tell 'em the price o' things, especially
+these holiday times, and they carry 'em round from
+counter to counter, and along comes a store detective
+and nabs 'em with the goods on 'em. They did that
+to me once, over at Cryder's, and I told him I'd
+knock him down if he put his hand on me, and somebody
+come along who knew me, and they was that
+scared when they found out who I was that they bowed
+and scraped like dancin' masters and wanted me to
+take the skirt along if I'd say nothin' about it. That
+might have happened to this poor child--"
+
+"Has Father Cruse seen her?" asked Felix. No
+word of the recital had reached his ears.
+
+"No--that's why I come to ye."
+
+"And where did you say she was?" He had himself
+under perfect control again, and might have been a man
+bent only on aiding Father Cruse in some charitable
+work.
+
+"Locked up in the station-house not far from here.
+It won't take ye ten minutes to get there."
+
+Felix glanced at the big-faced clock, facing the side
+window of the store.
+
+"Yes, of course I will go, since Father Cruse wishes
+it. Thank you for bringing his message. You need
+not wait."
+
+"Needn't wait! Ye're not goin' one step without
+me. They'd chuck ye out if ye did, and that's what
+they won't do to me if the captain's in his office. Besides,
+Mike run over a boy, and Tim Kelsey is up there
+now standin' bail for him. There's no use goin' unless
+ye see her. That's what the Father wanted ye to do,
+and that ain't easy unless ye've got the run of the
+station. So, ye see, I got to go with ye whether ye want
+me or not, or ye won't get nowheres. I'll wait till ye
+get yer hat and coat."
+
+All the way to the station-house, Kitty beside him,
+Felix was putting into silent words the thoughts that
+raced through his mind.
+
+"Barbara arrested as a vulgar thief!" he kept saying
+over and over. "A woman brought up a lady--with
+the best blood of England in her veins--her father
+a man of distinction! The woman I married!"
+
+Then, as a jagged thread of light breaks away from
+a centre bolt, illuminating a distant cloud, a faint ray
+cheered him. Perhaps the woman was not Barbara.
+No one had any proof. Father Cruse had never believed
+it, and he had only argued himself into thinking
+that the woman who had dropped the sleeve-link must
+be his wife. Until he knew definitely, saw her with
+his own eyes, neither would HE believe it, and a certain
+shame of his own suspicion swept through him like a
+flame.
+
+The captain was out when the two reached the
+station. Nor was there any one who knew Kitty
+except a departing patrolman, who nodded to her
+pleasantly as she passed in, adding in a whisper the
+information that Mike and Kelsey had gone up to
+Magistrate Cassidy, who held court in the next block,
+and that she was "not to worry," as it was "all
+right."
+
+A new appointee--a lieutenant she had never seen
+before--was temporarily in charge of the station.
+
+"I'm Mrs. Cleary," she began, in her free, outspoken
+way, "and this is Mr. Felix O'Day."
+
+The new appointee stared and said nothing.
+
+"Ye never saw me before, but that wouldn't make
+any difference if the captain was around. But ye can
+find out about me from any one of yer men who knows
+me. I'm here with Mr. O'Day lookin' up a woman
+who was brought here this morning for stealin' some
+finery or whatever it was from one of these big stores--
+and we want to see her, if ye plaze."
+
+The lieutenant shook his head. "Can't see no
+prisoner without the captain's orders."
+
+Kitty bridled, but she kept her temper. "When
+will he be back?"
+
+"Six o'clock. He's gone to headquarters."
+
+"He'd let me see her if he was here," she retorted,
+with some asperity.
+
+"No doubt--but I can't." All this time he had not
+changed his position--his arms on the desk, his fingers
+drumming idly.
+
+Felix rested his hands on the rail fronting the desk.
+"May I ask if you saw the woman?"
+
+"No. I only came on half an hour ago."
+
+"Is there any one here who did see her?"
+
+Something in O'Day's manner and in the incisive
+tones of his voice, those of command not supplication,
+made the lieutenant change his position. The speaker
+might have a "pull" somewhere. He turned to the
+sergeant. "You were on duty. What did she look
+like?"
+
+The sergeant yawned from behind his hand. He
+had been up most of the previous night and was some
+hours behind his sleep schedule. Kitty's presence had
+not roused him but the self-possessed man could not
+be ignored.
+
+"You mean the girl who got Rosenthal's lace?"
+he answered.
+
+"You're dead right," returned the lieutenant obligingly.
+He had, of course, always been ready to do what
+he could for people in trouble, and was so now.
+
+"Oh, about as they all look." This time the sergeant
+directed his remarks to Felix. "We get two or three
+of 'em every day, specially about Christmas and New
+Year's. Rather run down at the heel, this one, and
+--no, come to think of it, I'm wrong--she looked different.
+Been a corker in her time--not bad now--
+about thirty, I guess--maybe younger--you can't
+always tell. Rather slim--had on a black-straw hat
+and some kind of a cloak."
+
+Kitty was about to freshen his memory with some
+remembrance of her own, and had got as far as, "Well,
+my man Mike was here and he told me that--" when
+Felix lifted a restraining hand, supplementing her
+outburst by the direct question: "Did she say nothing
+about herself?"
+
+"She did not. All we could get out of her was that
+she was English."
+
+Felix bent nearer. "Will you please describe her a
+little closer? I have a reason for knowing."
+
+The sergeant caught the look of determination,
+dallied with a tin paper-cutter, bent his head on one
+side, and pursed a pair of thick lips. It was a strain
+on his memory, this recalling the features of one of a
+dozen prisoners, but somehow he dared not refuse.
+
+"Well, she was one of the pocket kind of women,
+small and well put up but light built, you know. She
+had blue eyes--big ones--I noticed 'em partic'lar--
+and about the smallest pair of feet I ever seen on a girl.
+She stumbled down-stairs and caught her dress, and
+I remember they was about as big as a kid's. That
+was another thing set me to wondering how she got
+into a scrape like this. She could have done a lot
+better if she had a-wanted to," this last came with
+a leer.
+
+Felix clenched his teeth, and drove his nails into
+the palms of his hands. He would have throttled the
+man had he dared.
+
+"Did she make any defense?" he asked, when he
+had himself under control again.
+
+"No--there warn't no use--she owned up to having
+pinched it. Not here at the desk, but to Rosenthal's
+man who made the charge--that is, she didn't deny
+it. The stuff was worth $250. That's a felony, you
+know."
+
+Kitty saw Felix sway for an instant, and was about
+to put out a protecting hand when he turned again
+to the lieutenant.
+
+"Officer, I do not ask you to break your rules, but
+I would consider it an especial favor if you would let
+me see this woman for a moment--even if you do not
+permit me to speak to her."
+
+"Well, you can't see her." The reply came with
+some positiveness and a slight touch of irony. He had
+made up his mind now that if the speaker had a pull,
+he would meet it by keeping strictly to the regulations.
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because she ain't here. She's in the Tombs by
+this time, unless somebody went her bail up at court.
+They had her in the patrol-wagon as I come on duty."
+
+"The Tombs? That is the city prison, is it not?"
+Felix asked, hardly conscious of his own question,
+absorbed only in one thought--Lady Barbara's
+degradation.
+
+"That's what it is," answered the lieutenant with
+a contemptuous glance at Felix, followed by a curl of
+the lip. No man had a pull who asked a question like
+that.
+
+"If I went there, could I see her?"
+
+"When?"
+
+"This afternoon."
+
+"Nothin' doin'--too late. You might work it to-morrow.
+Step down to headquarters, they'll tell you.
+If she's up for felony it means five years and them kind
+ain't easy to see. Can I do anything more for you?"
+
+"No," said Felix firmly.
+
+"Well, then, move on, both of you--you can't block
+up the desk."
+
+Felix turned and left the station-house, Kitty following
+in silence, her heart torn for the man beside her.
+Never had he seemed finer to her than at this moment;
+never had her own heart stirred with greater loyalty.
+But never since she had known him had she seen him
+so shaken.
+
+"There is nothing more we can do to-day," he said,
+speaking evenly, almost coldly, when they reached
+the corner of the street. "I will see Father Cruse
+to-night and tell him of your kindness, and he can
+decide as to what is to be done. And if you do not
+mind, I will leave you."
+
+She stood and watched him as he disappeared in
+the throng. She understood her dismissal and was not
+offended. It was not her secret and she had no right
+to interfere or even to advise. When he was ready he
+would tell her. Until that time she would wait with
+her hands held out.
+
+Felix crossed the street, halted for an instant as
+if uncertain as to his course, and turned toward the
+river. He wanted to be alone, and the crowd gave
+him a greater sense of isolation. It was the first time
+in months that he had tramped the thoroughfares
+without some definite object in view. All that was
+now a thing of the past, never to be revived. His
+quest was finished. The interview with the sergeant
+had ended it all. Every item in his detailed account
+of the woman now in the Tombs tallied with Kitty's
+description of the woman with the sleeve-buttons and
+so on, in turn, with the woman who was once his wife.
+
+With this knowledge there flamed up in his heart
+an uncontrollable anger, fanned to white heat by
+hatred of the man who had caused it all. His fingers
+tightened and his teeth ground together. That reckoning,
+he said to himself, would come later, once he got
+his hands on him. If she were a thief, Dalton had
+made her so. If she were an outcast and a menace to
+society, Dalton had done it. By what hellish process,
+he could not divine, knowing Lady Barbara as he did,
+but the fact was undeniable.
+
+What then was he to do? Go back to London and
+leave her, or stay here and fight on in the effort to save
+her? SAVE HER! Who could save her? She had stolen
+the goods; been arrested with them in her possession;
+was in the Tombs; and, in a few weeks, would be lost
+to the world for a term of years.
+
+He could even now see the vulgar, leering crowd;
+watch the jury, picked from the streets, file in and
+take their seats; hear the few, curt, routine words,
+cold as bullets, drop from the lips of the callous judge,
+the frail, desolate woman deserted by every soul, paying
+the price without murmur or protest--glad that
+the end had come.
+
+And then, with one of those tricks that memory
+sometimes plays, he saw the altar-rail, where he had
+stood beside her--she in her bridal robes, her soft blue
+eyes turned toward his; he heard again the responses,
+"for better or for worse"--"until death do us part,"
+caught the scent of flowers and the peal of the organ
+as they turned and walked down the aisle, past the
+throng of richly dressed guests.
+
+"Great God!" he choked, worming his way through
+the crowd, unconscious of his course, unmindful of
+his steps, oblivious to passers-by--alone with an agony
+that scorched his very soul.
+
+
+
+
+Chapter XXII
+
+
+
+When Martha, on her return from Stephen's, had
+climbed the dimly lighted stairs leading to her apartment,
+she ran against a thick-set man, in brown clothes
+and derby. hat, seated on the top step. He had interviewed
+the faded old wreck who served as janitress
+and, learning that Mrs. Munger would be back any
+minute, had taken this method of being within touching
+distance when the good woman unlocked her
+door. She might decide to leave him outside its panels
+while she got in her fine work of hiding the thing he
+had climbed up three flights of stairs to find. In
+that case, a twist of his foot between the door and the
+jamb would block the game.
+
+"Are you the man who has been waiting for me?"
+she exclaimed, as the detective's big frame became
+discernible under the faint rays from the "Paul Pry"
+skylight.
+
+"Yes, if you are the woman who is living with Mrs.
+Stanton." He had risen to his feet and had moved
+toward the door.
+
+"I'm Mrs. Munger, if that's who you are looking
+for, and we live together. She's not back yet, so the
+woman down-stairs has just told me. Are you from
+Rosenthal's?"
+
+"I am." He had edged nearer, his fingers within
+reach of the knob, his lids narrowing as he studied
+her face and movements.
+
+"Did they find the lace--the mantilla?"
+
+"Not as I heard," he answered, noting her anxiety.
+"That's what brought me down. I thought maybe
+you might know something about it."
+
+"Didn't find it?" she sighed. "No, I knew they
+wouldn't. She was sure she had taken it up night before
+last, but I knew she hadn't. Where's my key?--
+Oh, yes--stand back and get out of my light so I can
+find the keyhole. It's dark enough as it is. That's
+right. Now come inside. You can wait for her better
+in here than out on these steps. Look, will you!
+There's her coffee just as she left it. She hasn't had a
+crumb to eat to-day. What do you want to see her
+about? The rest of the work? It's in the box there."
+
+Pickert, with a swift, comprehensive glance, summed
+up the apartment and its contents: the little table
+by the window with Lady Barbara's work-basket;
+the small stove, and pine table set out with the breakfast
+things; the cheap chairs; the dresser with its array
+of china, and the two bedrooms opening out of the
+modest interior. Its cleanliness and order impressed
+him; so did Martha's unexpected frankness. If she
+knew anything of the theft, she was an adept at putting
+up a bluff.
+
+"When do you expect Mrs. Stanton back?" he
+began, in an offhand way, stretching his shoulders as
+if the long wait on the stairs had stiffened his joints.
+"That's her name, ain't it?"
+
+"I expected to find her here," she answered, ignoring
+his inquiry as to Lady Barbara's identity. "They
+are keeping her, no doubt, on some new work. She
+hasn't had any breakfast, and now it's long past lunch-time.
+And they didn't find the piece of lace? That's
+bad! Poor dear, she was near crazy when she found
+it was gone!"
+
+Pickert had missed no one of the different expressions
+of anxiety and tenderness that had crossed her
+placid face. "No--it hadn't turned up when I left,"
+he replied; adding, with another stretch, quite as a
+matter of course, "she had it all right, didn't she?"
+
+"Had it! Why, she's been nearly a week on it.
+I helped her all I could, but her eyes gave out."
+
+"Then you would know it again if you saw it?"
+The stretch was cut short this time.
+
+"Of course I'd know it--don't I tell you I helped
+her fix it?"
+
+The detective turned suddenly and, with a thrust
+of his chin, rasped out: "And if one, or both of you,
+pawned it somewhere round here, you could remember
+that, too, couldn't you?"
+
+Martha drew back, her gentle eyes flashing: "Pawned
+it! What do you mean?"
+
+The detective lunged toward her. "Just what I say.
+Now don't get on your ear, Mrs. Munger." He was
+the thorough bully now. "It won't cut any ice with
+me or with Mr. Mangan. It didn't this morning or he
+wouldn't have sent me down here. We want that
+mantilla and we got to have it. If we don't there'll
+be trouble. If you know anything about it, now's
+the time to say so. The woman you call Mrs. Stanton
+got all balled up this morning, and couldn't say what
+she did with it. They all do that--we get half a dozen
+of 'em every week. She's pawned it all right--what
+I want to know is WHERE. Rosenthal's in a hole if we
+don't get it. If you've spent the money, I've got a
+roll right here." And he tapped his pocket. "No
+questions asked, remember! All I want is the mantilla,
+and if it don't come she'll be in the Tombs and
+you'll go with her. We mean business, and don't you
+forget it!"
+
+Martha turned squarely upon him--was about to
+speak--changed her mind--and drawing up a chair,
+settled down upon it.
+
+"You're a nice young man, you are!" she exclaimed,
+scornfully. "A very nice young man! And you think
+that poor child is a thief, do you? Do you know who
+she is and what she's suffered? If I could tell you,
+you'd never get over it, you'd be that ashamed!"
+
+She was not afraid of him; her army hospital experience
+had thrown her with too many kinds of men.
+What filled her with alarm was his reference to Lady
+Barbara. But for this uncertainty, and the possible
+consequences of such a procedure, she would have
+thrown open her door and ordered him out as she had
+done Dalton. Then, seeing that Pickert still maintained
+his attitude--that of a setter-dog with the bird
+in the line of his nose--she added testily:
+
+"Don't stand there staring at me. Take a chair
+where I can talk to you better. You get on my nerves.
+It's pawned, is it? Yes. I believe you, and I know
+who pawned it. Dalton's got it--that's who. I
+thought so last night--now I'm sure of it." She was
+on her feet now, tearing at her bonnet-string as if to
+free her throat. "He sneaked it out of that box on
+the floor beside you, when she was hiding from him in
+her bedroom."
+
+Pickert retreated slightly at this new development;
+then asked sharply: "Dalton! Who's Dalton?"
+
+"The meanest cur that ever walked the earth--
+that's who he is. He's almost killed my poor lady,
+and now she must go to jail to please him. Not if I'm
+alive, she won't. He stole that mantilla! I'm just as
+sure of it as I am that my name is Martha Munger!"
+
+Pickert's high tension relaxed. If this new clew
+had to be followed it could best be followed with the
+aid of this woman, who evidently hated the man she
+denounced. She would be of assistance, too, in identifying
+both the lace and the thief--and he had seen
+neither the one nor the other as yet. So it was the
+same old game, was it?--with a man at the bottom
+of the deal!
+
+"Do you know the pawn-shops around here?" he
+asked, becoming suddenly confidential.
+
+"Not one of them, and don't want to," came the
+contemptuous reply. "When I get as low down as
+that, I've got a brother to help me. He'll be up here
+himself to-night and will tell you so."
+
+Pickert had been standing over her throughout the
+interview, despite her invitation to be seated. He
+now moved toward a seat, his hat still tilted back
+from his forehead.
+
+"What makes you think this man you call Dalton
+stole it?" he asked, drawing a chair out from the table,
+as though he meant to let her lead him on a new scent.
+
+"Come over here before you sit down and I'll tell
+you," she exclaimed, peremptorily. "Now take a look
+at that box. Now watch me lift the lid, and see what
+you find," and she enacted the little pantomime of the
+morning.
+
+The detective stroked his chin with his forefinger.
+He was more interested in Martha's talk about Dalton
+than he was in the contents of the box. "And you
+want to get him, don't you?" he asked slyly.
+
+"Me get him! I wouldn't touch him with a pair
+of tongs. What I want is for him to keep out of here--
+I told him that last night."
+
+"Well, then, tell me what he looks like, so I can get
+him."
+
+"Like anybody else until you catch the hang-dog
+droop in his eyes, as if he was afraid people would ask
+him some question he couldn't answer."
+
+"One of the slick kind?"
+
+"Yes, for he's been a gentleman--before he got down
+to be a dog."
+
+"How old?"
+
+"About thirty--maybe thirty two or three. You
+can't tell to look at him, he's that battered."
+
+"Smooth-shaven--well-dressed?"
+
+"Yes--no beard nor mustache on him. I couldn't
+see his clothes. His big cape-coat, buttoned up to his
+chin, hid them and his face, too. He had a slouch-hat
+on his head with the brim pulled down when he went
+out."
+
+"And you say he's been living off of Mrs. Stanton
+since--"
+
+"No, I didn't say it. I said he was a cur and that
+she wouldn't go to jail to please him--that's what I
+said. Now, young man, if you're through, I am. I've
+got to get my work done."
+
+Pickert tilted his hat to the other side of his bullet
+head, felt in his side pocket for a cigar, bit off the end,
+and spat the crumbs of tobacco from his lips.
+
+"You could put me on to the mantilla, couldn't
+you?--spot it for me once I come across it?"
+
+"Of course I could, the minute I clapped my eyes
+on it."
+
+"It's a kind of lace shawl, ain't it?"
+
+"Yes. All black--a big one with a frill around it
+and a tear in one side--that's what she was mending.
+A good piece, I should think, because it was so fine and
+silky. You could squash it up in one hand, it was
+that soft. That's why she took such care of it, putting
+it back in that box every night to keep the dust out
+of it."
+
+"Well, what's the matter with your coming along
+with me?"
+
+"And where are you going to take me?"
+
+"To one or two pawn-shops around here."
+
+"Well, I'm not going with you. If I go anywhere
+it will be up to Rosenthal's. I'm getting worried. It's
+after three o'clock now. She's got no money to get
+anything to eat. She'll come home dead beat out if
+she's been hungry all this time."
+
+"Well, it's right on the way. We'll take in a few
+of the small shops, and then we'll keep on up. There
+are two on Second Avenue, and then there's Blobbs's,
+one of the biggest around here. The old woman gets
+a lot of that kind of stuff and she'll open up when she
+finds out who wants to know. I've done business with
+her--where does this fellow, Dalton, live?"
+
+"Up on the East Side."
+
+"Well, then, we are all right. He will make for
+some fence where he is not known. Come along."
+
+Martha hesitated for an instant, abandoned her
+decision, and retied her bonnet-strings; she might find
+her mistress the quicker if she acceded to his request.
+She stepped to the stove, examined the fire to see that
+it was all right, added a shovel of coal and, with Pickert
+at her heels, groped her way down the dingy stairs,
+her fingers following the handrail. In the front hall
+she stopped to say to the janitress that she was going
+to Rosenthal's and to tell Mrs. Stanton, when she
+came, that she was not to leave the apartment again,
+as Mr. Carlin was coming to see her.
+
+When they reached the corner of the next block,
+Pickert halted outside a small loan-office, told her to
+wait, and disappeared inside, only to emerge five
+minutes later and continue his walk with her up-town.
+The performance was repeated twice, his last stop
+being in front of a gold sign notifying the indigent
+and the guilty that one Blobbs bought, sold, and exchanged
+various articles of wearing-apparel for cash or
+its equivalent.
+
+Martha eyed the cluster of balls suspended above
+the door, and occupied herself with a cursory examination
+of the contents of the front window, to none
+of which, she said to herself, would she have given
+house-room had the choice of the whole collection
+been offered her. She was about to march into the
+shop and end the protracted interview when Pickert
+flung himself out.
+
+"I'm on--got him down fine! Listen--see if I've
+got this right! He wore a black cape-coat buttoned
+up close-that's what you told me, wasn't it?--and
+a kind of a slouch-hat. Been an up-town swell before
+he got down and out? That kind of a man, ain't he?
+Smooth-shaven, with a droop in his eye--speaks like
+a foreigner--English. Somethin' doin'!--Do you
+know a man named Kling who keeps an old-furniture
+store up on Fourth Avenue?"
+
+"No, I don't know Kling and I don't want to know
+him. It will be dark, and Rosenthal's 'll be shut up
+if I keep up this foolishness, and I'm going to find my
+mistress. If you can't find Dalton, I will, when my
+brother Stephen comes. Now you go your way and
+I'll go mine."
+
+He waited until she had boarded a car, then wheeled
+quickly and dashed up Third Avenue, crossing 26th
+Street at an angle, forging along toward Kling's. He
+was through with the old woman. She was English,
+and so was Dalton, and so, for that matter, was a man
+who, Blobbs had told him, had "blown in" at Kling's
+about a year ago from nobody knew where. They'd
+all help one another--these English. No, he'd go
+alone.
+
+When he reached Otto's window he slowed down,
+pulled himself together, and strolled into the store with
+the air of a man who wanted some one to help him
+make up his mind what to buy. The holiday crowd
+had thinned for a moment, and only a few men and
+women were wandering about the store examining the
+several articles. Otto at the moment was in tow of a
+stout lady in furs, who had changed her mind half a
+dozen times in the hour and would change it again,
+Otto thought, when, as she said, she would "return with
+her husband."
+
+"Vich she von't do," he chuckled, addressing his
+remark to the newcomer, "and I bet you she never
+come back. Dot's de funny ting about some vimmins
+ven dey vant to talk it over vid her husbands, and de
+men ven dey vant to see der vives. Den you might
+as vell lock up de shop--ain't dot so? Vat is it you
+vant--one of dem tables? Dot is a Chippendale--
+you can see de legs and de top."
+
+"Yes, I see 'em," replied the detective, scanning the
+circumference of Otto's fat body. "But I'm not buying
+any tables to-day, I'm on another lead--that is, if I've
+got it right and your name is Kling."
+
+"Yes, you got it right," answered Otto; "dot's my
+name. Vat is it you vant?"
+
+"And you own this store?"
+
+"And I own dis store. Didn't you see de sign ven
+you come in?" The man's manner and cock-sure air
+were beginning to nettle him.
+
+"I might, and then again, I mightn't," Pickert
+retorted, relaxing into his usual swaggering tone. "I'm
+not looking for signs. I'm looking for a piece of lace,
+a mantilla they call it, that disappeared a few days
+ago from Rosenthal's up here on Third Avenue--a
+kind of shawl with a frill around it--and I thought you
+might have run across it."
+
+Otto looked at him over the tops of his glasses, his
+anger increasing as he noticed the man's scowl of
+suspicion. "Oh, dot's it, is it? Dot's vat you come
+for. You tink I am a fence, eh?"
+
+The detective grinned derisively. "You bought a
+piece of lace, didn't you?"
+
+"I buy a dozen pieces maybe--vot's dot your
+business?"
+
+"My business will come later. What I want to
+know is whether you've got a piece with a hole in it--
+black, soft, and squashy--with a frill--a flounce, they
+call it--and I want to tell you right here that it will be
+a good deal better if you keep a decent tongue in your
+head and stop puttin' on lugs. It's business with me."
+
+Masie had crept up and stood listening, wondering
+at the stranger's rough way of talking. So had the
+tramp, whom Kitty had loaned to Otto for a few hours
+to help move some of the heavier furniture. He seemed
+to be especially interested in what was taking place,
+for he kept edging up the closer, dusting the Colonial
+sideboard close to which Kling and the man were
+standing, his ears stretched to their utmost, in order to
+miss no word of the interview.
+
+"Vell, if it's business, and you don't mean noddin,
+dot's anudder ting," replied Kling, in a milder tone,
+"maybe den I tell you. Run avay, Masie, I got someting
+private to say. Dot's right. You go talk to Mrs.
+Gossburger-- Yes," he added, as the child disappeared,
+"I did buy a big lace shawl like dot."
+
+Pickert's grin covered half his face. He could get
+along now without a search-warrant. "And have you
+got it now?"
+
+"Yes, I got it now."
+
+The grin broadened--the triumphant grin of a boy
+when he hears the click of a trap and knows the quarry
+is inside.
+
+"Can I see it?"
+
+"No, you can't see it." The man's cool persistency
+again irritated him. "I buy dot for a present and I--
+Look here vunce! Vat you come in here for an' ask
+dose questions? I never see you before. Dis is my
+busy time. Now you put yourselluf outside my place."
+
+The detective made a step forward, turned his back
+on the rest of the shop, unbuttoned his outer coat,
+lifted the lapel of the inner one, and uncovered his
+shield.
+
+"Come across," he said, in low, cutting tones, "and
+don't get gay. I'm not after you--but you gotter
+help, see! I've traced this mantilla down to this
+shop. Now cough it up! If you've bought it on the
+level, I've got a roll here will square it up with you."
+
+Otto gave a muffled whistle. "Den dot fellow vas
+a tief, vas he? He didn't look like it, for sure. Vell--
+vell--vell--dot's funny! Vy, I vouldn't have tought
+dot. Look like a quiet man, and--"
+
+"You remember the man, then?" interrupted the
+detective, following up his advantage, and again
+scraping his chin with his forefinger.
+
+"Oh, yes. I don't forgot him. Vore a buttoned-up
+coat--high like up to his chin--"
+
+"And a slouch-hat?" prompted Pickert.
+
+"Yes, vun of dose soft hats, for I tink de light hurt
+his eyes ven he come close up to my desk ven I gif him
+de money."
+
+"And had a sort of a catch-look, a kind of a slant
+in his eye, didn't he?" supplemented Pickert; "and
+was smooth-shaven and--on the whole--rather decent-looking
+chap, just getting on his uppers and not quite.
+Ain't that it?"
+
+"Yes, maybe, I don't recklemember everyting about
+him. Vell--vell--ain't dot funny? But he vasn't
+a dead beat--no, I don't tink so. An' he stole it?
+You vud never tink dot to see him. I got it in my
+little office, behind dot partition, in a drawer. You
+come along. To-morrow is New Year's"--here he
+glanced up the stairs to be sure that Masie was out
+of hearing--"and I bought dat lace for a present for
+my little girl vat you saw joost now--she loves dem
+old tings. She has got more as a vardrobe full of dem.
+Vait till I untie it. Look! Ain't dot a good vun?
+And all I pay for it vas tventy tollars."
+
+The detective loosened the folds, shook out the
+flounce, held it up to the light, and ran his thumb
+through the tear in the mesh.
+
+"Of course dere's a hole--I buy him cheaper for dot
+hole--my little Beesving like it better for dot. If it
+vas new she vouldn't have it."
+
+Pickert was now caressing the soft lace, his satisfaction
+complete. "A dead give-away," he said at
+last. "Much obliged. I'll take it along," and he
+began rolling it up.
+
+"You take it--VAT?" exclaimed Otto.
+
+"Well, of course, it's stolen goods."
+
+Kling leaned over and caught it from his hand. "If
+it's stolen goods, somebody more as you must come
+in and tell me dot. By Jeminy, you have got a awful
+cheek to come in here and tell me dot! Ven I buy,
+I buy, and it is mine to keep. Ven I sell, I sell, and
+dot's nobody's business."
+
+Pickert bit his lip. His bluff had failed. He must
+go about it in another way, if Rosenthal's customer,
+who owned the lace, was to regain possession before
+the New Year set in.
+
+"Well, then, sell it to me," he snarled.
+
+"No, I don't sell it to you. Not if you give me
+tventy times tventy tollars. And now you get out of
+here so k'vick as you can--or me and dot man over by
+dot sideboard and two more down-stairs vill trow you
+out! I don't care a tam how big a brass ting you got
+on your coat. So you dake it along vid you? Vell,
+you have got a cheek!"
+
+Pickert's underlip curled in contempt. He had only
+to step to the door and blow a whistle were a row to
+begin. But that would neither help him to trail the
+thief nor to secure the mantilla.
+
+"Now see here, Mr. Kling," he said, fingering the
+lapel of Otto's coat, "I've treated you white, now you
+treat me white. You make me tired with your hot
+air, and it don't go--see, not with me!--and now I'll
+put it to you straight. Will you sell me that mantilla?
+Here's the money"--and he pulled out a roll
+of bills.
+
+Otto was now thoroughly angry. "NO!" he shouted,
+moving toward the door of his office.
+
+"Will you help put me on to the man who sold it
+to you?"
+
+"No!" roared Kling again, his Dutch blood at
+boiling-point. "I put you on noddin--dot's your
+bis'ness, dis puttin' on, not mine." He had walked
+out of the office and was beckoning to the tramp.
+"Here, you! You go down-stairs and tell Hans to
+come up k'vick--right avay."
+
+The tramp slouched up--a sliding movement, led
+by his shoulder, his feet following.
+
+"Maybe, boss, I kin help if you don't mind my
+crowdin' in." He had listened to the whole conversation
+and knew exactly what would happen if he carried
+out Kling's order. He had seen too many mix-ups in
+his time--most of them through resisting an officer
+in the discharge of his duty. Kling, the first thing he
+knew, would be wearing a pair of handcuffs, and he
+himself might lose his job.
+
+He addressed the detective: "I saw the guy when
+he come in and I saw him when he went out. Mr.
+O'Day saw him, too, but he'd skipped afore he got
+on to his mug. He'll tell ye same as me."
+
+The detective canted his head, looked the tramp
+over from his shoes to his unkempt head, and turned
+suddenly to Kling. "Who's Mr. O'Day?" he snapped.
+
+"He's my clerk," growled Otto, his determination
+to get rid of the man checked by this new turn in the
+situation.
+
+"Can I see him?"
+
+"No, you can't see him, because he's gone out vid
+Kitty Cleary. He'll be back maybe in an hour--
+maybe he don't come back at all. He don't know
+noddin about dis bis'ness and nobody don't let him
+know noddin about it until to-morrow. Den my
+little Beesving know de first. Half de fun is in de
+surprise."
+
+The detective at once lost interest in Kling, and
+turned to the tramp again--the two moving out of
+Otto's hearing. A new and fresh scent had crossed
+the trail--one it might be wise to follow.
+
+"You work here?" he asked. He had taken his
+measure in a glance and was ready to use him.
+
+"No, I work in John Cleary's express office," grunted
+the tramp. "Mr. O'Day wanted me to come over and
+help for New Year's."
+
+"What's he got to do with you?"
+
+"He got me my job."
+
+"He's an Englishman, ain't he?"
+
+"Yes, and the best ever."
+
+"Oh, yes, of course," sneered the detective. "Been
+working here a year and knows the ropes. So you
+saw the man come in and O'Day, the clerk, saw
+him go out, did he? And O'Day sent for you to
+stay around in case any questions were asked? Is
+that it?"
+
+The tramp's lip was lifted, showing his teeth. "No,
+that ain't it by a damned sight! I know who pinched
+the goods--knowed him for months. Know his name,
+just as well as I know yours. I got on to you soon
+as you come in."
+
+The detective shot a quick glance at the speaker.
+"Me?" he returned quietly.
+
+"Yes--YOU. Your name is Pickert--ONE of your
+names--you've got half a dozen. And the guy's name
+is Stanton. He hangs out at the Bowdoin House, and
+when he ain't there he's playin' pool at Steve Lipton's
+where I used to work. Are you on?"
+
+The detective betrayed no surprise, neither over
+the mention of his own name nor that of Stanton. If
+the tramp's story were true he would have the bracelets
+on the thief before morning. He decided, however,
+to try the old game first.
+
+"It may be worth something to you if you can make
+good," he said, with a confidential shrug of his near
+shoulder.
+
+The tramp thrust out his chin with a gesture of
+disgust. "Nothin' doin'! You can keep your plunks.
+I don't want 'em. I know you fellers--I got onto
+your curves when I was on my uppers. When you
+can't get your flippers on the right man you slip
+'em on the first galoot you catch, and I want to tell
+you right here that you can't mix Mr. O'Day in this
+business, for he don't know nothin' about it, nor anything
+else that's crooked. I'll get this man Stanton
+for you if the boss will let me out for an hour. Shall
+I ask him?"
+
+Pickert examined his finger-nails for a brief moment
+--one seemed in need of immediate repairs--his mind
+all the while in deep thought. The tramp might help
+or he might not. He evidently knew him, and it was
+possible that he also knew Stanton, the name borne
+by the woman charged with the theft; or the whole
+yarn might be a ruse to give the real thief a tip, and
+thus block everything. Lipton's place he frequented,
+and the Bowdoin House he could find.
+
+"No, you stay here," he broke out. "I'll get him."
+
+He walked back to the office, the tramp following.
+"I say, Mr. Kling!" he called impudently.
+
+Otto lifted his head. He had locked up the mantilla
+and had the key in his pocket. For him the incident
+was closed.
+
+"Vell?" replied Otto dryly.
+
+"Does this man work over at Cleary's express?"
+
+"He does. Vy?"
+
+"Oh, nothing. I may want him later. And, say!"
+
+"Vell," again replied Otto.
+
+"Git wise and surprise that little girl of yours with
+something else--she'll never wear that mantilla. So
+long," and he strode out of the store.
+
+
+
+
+Chapter XXIII
+
+
+
+The short winter's day had run its course and a soft,
+aimless snow was falling--each flake a lazy feather,
+careless of its fate. The store windows were ablaze,
+and many of the houses on both sides of "The Avenue"
+were alive with newly kindled gas-jets, the street-
+lamps shedding their light over a broad highway
+blocked with slipping teams, their carts crammed to
+the utmost with holiday freight.
+
+A spirit of good-fellowship and unrestrained joyousness
+was everywhere. When a team was stalled, two
+or three men put their shoulders to the wheels; when
+a horse slipped and fell, a dozen others helped him to
+his feet. Snowballs, thrown in good humor and received
+with a laugh, filled the air. New York was getting
+ready to celebrate the night before New Year's,
+the maddest night of all the year in old Manhattan,
+when groups of merrymakers, carrying tin horns and
+jingling cow-bells, crowd the sidewalks, singing and
+shouting, forming flying wedges, swooping down on
+other wedges--strangers all--the whole ending in roars
+of laughter and "Happy New Year's," repeated again
+and again until the next collision.
+
+None of this roused Felix as, with heavy heart,
+he turned into Kitty's. Of what the morrow would
+bring forth he dared not think. Father Cruse, he
+knew, would do what he could to save Barbara, and
+the British consul--a man he had always avoided--
+might help. But nothing of all this could lighten his
+load or relieve his pain. She might be given her freedom
+for a time, or she might be turned over to one of
+the reformatories for a term of years--either course
+meant untold suffering to a woman reared as his wife
+had been. These mental tortures of the day had
+burned their way into his brain, as branding-irons burn
+into flesh, the agony seaming the lines of his face and
+deep-hollowing the eyes, forming scars that might
+take years to efface.
+
+As his fingers gripped the knob of Kitty's outside
+office, shouts of "Happy New Year" rang out from
+a group of girls showering each other with snowballs.
+
+"Pray God," he said to himself, "that it be better
+than the one which is passing," and stepped inside,
+to find Kitty in the kitchen.
+
+"I have come to talk to you," he said, speaking
+as a man whose strength is far spent. "And if you
+do not mind, I will ask you to go into the sitting-room
+where we shall not be disturbed. I have something
+to say to you. Will you be alone?"
+
+Kitty gave a start. She knew at once that some
+new development had brought him to her at this hour.
+
+"Yes, not a soul but me. John and Bobby are
+up to the Grand Central, Mike's bailed out, and yer
+tramp just come over from Otto's. They're cleanin'
+out the stables. Is it some news ye have of her?"
+
+"No--nothing more than you know. That must
+wait until to-morrow. Nothing can be done to-night."
+
+She followed him into the room, dragged out a chair
+from against the wall, waited until he had slipped off
+his mackintosh, and then seated herself beside him.
+
+"No," he repeated, passing his hand across his eyes
+as if to shut out some haunting vision. "There is
+no news. She is in a cell, I suppose. My God, what
+does it all mean!"
+
+He paused, his head averted, staring straight ahead.
+
+"You have been very kind to me, Mrs. Cleary,
+since I have been here--you and your husband. You
+may not have realized it, but I do not think I could
+have gone through the year without you--you and
+little Masie. I have come to the end now, where no
+one can help. I have tried to carry it through alone.
+I did not want to burden you with my troubles and--
+if I could prevent it, I would not now, but you will
+know it sooner or later, and I would rather tell you
+myself than have you hear it from strangers."
+
+He hesitated for an instant, looked into her eyes,
+and said slowly: "The woman you picked up in the
+street and who is now in prison, is my wife, or was,
+until a year ago."
+
+Kitty neither moved nor spoke. The announcement
+did not greatly surprise her. What absorbed her was
+the new, hard lines in his face, her wonder being that
+such suffering should have fallen upon the head of a
+man who so little deserved it.
+
+"And is that what has been breakin' yer heart all
+these months ye lived with us?"
+
+Felix moved uneasily. "Yes. There has been
+nothing else."
+
+"And she's the same one ye've been a-trampin' the
+streets to find?"
+
+Felix bowed his head in assent.
+
+"And ye kep' all this from me?" she asked, as a
+mother might reproach her son.
+
+"You could have done nothing."
+
+"I could have comforted ye. That would have
+been somethin'. Did she leave ye?"
+
+Again Felix bowed his head in answer. The spoken
+words would only add to his pain.
+
+"For another man, was it?--Yes, I see--you twice
+her age, and she a chit of a child. Ye can't do much
+for that kind once they get their heads set--no matter
+how good ye are to them. And I suppose that when
+I found her that night on the door-steps and brought
+her into the kitchen, he'd turned her into the street.
+That's it, isn't it? And then she got to stealin' to
+keep from starvin'?"
+
+"Yes, I suppose so--I do not know. I only know
+she is a criminal. That is shame enough."
+
+"And is that all ye came to tell me?" She was
+going to the bottom of it now. This man was gripped
+in the tortures of the damned and could only be helped
+when he had emptied out his heart--all of it, down
+to the very dregs.
+
+"No, there is something else. I wanted to speak to
+you about Masie. I may go back to England in a few
+days and I am not satisfied to leave her unprotected.
+She has no mother and you have no daughter--would
+you look after her for me? I have learned to love her
+very dearly--and I am greatly disturbed over her
+future and who is to look after her. Her father will
+not listen to any plans I might make for her, nor will
+he take proper care of her. He thinks he does, but
+he lets her do as she pleases. She will be a woman in
+a very short time, and I shudder when I think of the
+dangers which beset her. A shop like Kling's is no
+place for a child like Masie."
+
+Kitty had turned pale when Felix announced his
+probable departure, something to which she had not
+yet given a thought, but she heard him to the end.
+
+"I will do all I can for Masie, but that can wait.
+And now I'm goin' to talk to ye as if ye were my John,
+and ye got to be patient with me, Mr. O'Day. God
+knows I'd help ye in any way I could, but ye've got
+to help me a little so I can help ye the better. May
+I go on?"
+
+"Help! How can I help?" he asked listlessly.
+
+"By trustin' me--and I can be trusted, and so can
+John. I found out some months ago that ye were
+Sir Felix O'Day, but ye never heard me blab it to
+any livin' soul, nor did John either--not even to Father
+Cruse. I've watched ye go in and out all these months,
+and many a night, tired as I was, I didn't get to sleep,
+worryin' about ye until I'd heard ye shut yer door.
+Ye said nothin' to me and I could say nothin' to ye.
+I knew ye'd tell me when the time come and it has,
+with ye nigh crazy, and she on her way to Sing Sing.
+What she's been through since that night I brought her
+here, I don't know--but she'd 'a' broke your heart if
+ye'd seen her staggerin' weak, followin' me and John
+like a whipped dog. I thought then she had got the
+worst of it, somehow, and that she hadn't deserved
+what had been handed out to her, and John thought
+so, too. What it was I didn't know, but I've got somebody
+now who does know and who will tell me the
+truth, and I'm askin' ye to give it to me straight. If
+she was your wife she must be a lady, for ye wouldn't
+'a' married anybody else. And if she was a lady, how
+has it happened that she is locked up in the Tombs,
+and that a gentleman like ye is working at Otto's?
+And before ye answer, remember that I'm not askin'
+for meself, but for you and the poor woman ye tried
+to find to-day."
+
+His tired eyes had not left her own during the
+long outburst. He had never doubted her sincerity
+nor her kindliness, but now, as he listened, there stole
+over him a yearning, strange in one so habitually reticent,
+to share with her the secret he had hidden all
+these months--except from Father Cruse.
+
+"Yes, you shall know," he answered, with a sigh of
+relief. "It is best that somebody should know, and
+best of all that it should be you. But first tell me how
+you found out that I could use my father's title--I
+have never told anybody here."
+
+"An Englishman told me, who wanted his trunk
+taken to the steamer. He saw you cross the street.
+'That's Sir Felix O'Day,' he said, 'and he has had
+more trouble than any man I ever knew.'"
+
+"Did you check the trunk?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"That explains how my solicitor in London, whom
+I have just heard from, discovered my address. He
+mentioned a trunk-tag as his clew; he and the Englishman
+evidently met. As to the title, it was of no use
+to me here. I may use it now, at home, for he writes
+that there were several hundreds of pounds sterling
+saved out of my own and my father's wreck, together
+with a small cottage and a few acres of land near
+London. Had I known it, however, before I came here,
+it would have made no difference, nor would it have
+altered my plan. I had come here to find my wife, for
+I knew that sooner or later she would be utterly
+stranded, without a human being to whom she could
+appeal; but I never expected to find her a criminal.
+Terrible! Terrible! I cannot yet take it in. Poor
+child! What is to become of her, God only knows!"
+
+He had risen, and in his agony walked to the window,
+his updrawn shoulders tense, like those of a man standing
+by an open grave. He stood there for a moment,
+Kitty silently watching him, until, with a deep sigh,
+he came back to his chair.
+
+"I have been a fool, no doubt, to pursue this thing
+as I have, but there seemed no other way. I could
+not have lived with myself afterward, if I had not
+made the effort. I knew that you and your husband
+often wondered at the life I led, and I have often
+thanked you in my heart for your loyalty. It is but
+another one of the things that have made this home so
+dear to me. I told Father Cruse what brought me to
+New York, so that he could help me find her, and he
+has been more than kind. Many a night we have
+tramped the streets together, or have searched haunts
+that either she, or the man who ruined her, might
+frequent, or where we should meet persons who had
+seen them, but so far, you are the only person who has
+brought us near to each other.
+
+"I tell you now because it is better that you and I
+should understand each other before I sail, and because,
+too, you are a big, brave, true-hearted woman who can
+and will understand. You may not think it, but you
+have been a revelation to me, Mrs. Cleary--you and
+this home--and the neighborhood, in fact, peopled
+with clean, wholesome men and women. It has been
+a great lesson to me and a marvellous contrast to what
+had surrounded me at home. You were right in your
+surmise that my wife is a lady, and that I have been
+born a gentleman. And now I will tell you why we
+are both here."
+
+Then, in broken words, with long pauses between,
+he told her the story of his own and Lady Barbara's
+home life, and of Dalton's perfidy with all the horror
+that had followed, Kitty's body bent forward, her ears
+drinking in every word, her plump, ruddy hands resting
+in her lap, her heart throbbing with sympathy for
+the man who sat there so calm and patient, stating his
+case without bitterness, his anger only rising when he
+recounted the incidents leading up to his wife's estrangement
+and denounced the man who had planned her ruin.
+
+Only when the tale was ended did she burst out:
+"And I ain't surprised yer heart's broke! Ye've had
+enough to kill ye. The wonder to me is that ye're
+walkin' around with yer head up and your heart not
+soured. I been thinkin' and thinkin' all these months,
+and John and I have talked it over many a night; but
+we never thought it was as bad as it is. And now I'm
+goin' to ask ye a question and ye must tell me the
+truth. What are ye goin' to do next?"
+
+"See Father Cruse to-night and tell him what I
+have found out. He must do the rest. I have gone
+as far as I dared, and can go no further. I must draw
+the line at crime. In spite of it all, I would have gone
+down-stairs to see her, had she not been sent away,
+but I am glad now that I did not. She comes of a
+proud race and that would have been the last thing
+she could have borne. As it is, she thinks I am in
+Australia, and it's better that she should. She would
+have thought I had come to taunt her, and no one
+could have undeceived her. I know her--and her wilfulness.
+Poor child! She has always been her own
+worst enemy. And so, just as soon as I learn what is to
+happen to her, I shall settle my account with the man
+who has caused her ruin, and return to England--and
+I can go the easier, and pick up my old life again
+the better, if I can be assured that you will look after
+little Masie, and see that no harm comes to her."
+
+Kitty raised her hands from her lap and folded
+them across her bosom. "Let me talk a little, will ye,
+Mr. O'Day? Ye needn't worry about Masie. I'll
+take care of her--all that Kling will let me. I knew
+her mother, who died when the child was born, and a
+fine woman she was--ten times as good as Kling whom
+her father made her marry. But there's somebody
+else who needs me, and who needs ye more than Masie
+needs us, and that's yer wife. How do ye know her
+heart is not breakin' for somebody to say a kind word
+to her? Are ye goin' home and leave her like this?
+That's not like ye, and I don't want to hear ye say it.
+Do you mean that if she is put away up the river, ye
+won't stay here and--"
+
+"What for, to sit for five years waiting for her to
+come out? And what then? Have you ever seen one
+reform?"
+
+"And if she gets off, and wanders around the streets?"
+
+"Father Cruse must answer that question."
+
+"But ye came all these miles to New York to pull
+her out of the mess she had got into with that man
+who's ruined yer home, and ye out in the cold without
+a cent--and ye forgave her for that--and now that
+she's locked up with only herself to suffer, ye turn
+yer back on her and leave her to fight it out alone."
+
+"I did not forgive HER, Mrs. Cleary," he said in
+deliberate tones. "I forgave her childish nature,
+remembering the way she had been educated; remembering,
+too, that I was twice her age. Nor did I forget
+the poverty I had brought upon her."
+
+"And why not forgive her this?" She could hardly
+restrain a sob as she spoke.
+
+His lips straightened and his brows narrowed. "This
+is not due to her nature," he answered coldly, "nor to
+her bringing up. She has now committed a crime and
+is beyond reclaim. Once a thief, always a thief. I
+must stop somewhere."
+
+"But why not hear her story from her own lips?"
+she pleaded, her voice choking. "YOU hear it--not
+Father Cruse, nor me, nor anybody but YOU, who
+have loved her!"
+
+Felix shook his head. "It is kinder for me to stay
+away. The very sight of me would kill her." His
+answer was final.
+
+Kitty squared herself. "I don't believe it," she
+cried, the tears now coursing down her cheeks. "Oh,
+for the blessed God's sake don't say it--take it
+back! Listen to me, Mr. O'Day. If she ever wanted
+a friend it's now. I'd go meself but I'd do no good--
+nor nothin' I'd tell her would do her any good. It's
+a man she wants to lean on, not a woman. I can almost
+lift my John off his feet with one hand, but when
+I get into trouble I'm just so much putty, runnin' to
+him like a baby, weak as a rag, and he pattin' my cheek
+same as if I was a three-year-old. Go and get yer
+arms around her and tell her ye don't believe a word
+of it, and that ye'll stand by her to the end, and ye'll
+make a good woman of her. Turn yer back on her,
+and they'll have her in potter's field if she gets out of
+this scrape, for she can't fight long--she hasn't got
+the strength.
+
+"She could hardly get up-stairs the night I put her
+to bed--she was that tremblin', and she's no better
+to-day. Don't let yer pride shut up yer heart, Mr.
+O'Day. You are a gentleman and ye've lived like
+one, and ye've got your own and yer father's name
+to keep clean, and that poor child has dragged it in
+the mud, and the papers will be full of it, and the disgrace
+of it all dries ye up, and ye can go no further,
+and so ye cut loose and let her sink. No, don't ye get
+angry with me--if ye were my own John I'd tell ye
+the same. Listen--do ye hear them horns blowin'
+and the children shoutin'? It's New Year's Eve--
+to-morrow all the slates will be wiped clean--the past
+rubbed out and everybody'll have a new start. Make
+a clean slate of yer own heart--wipe out everything
+ye've got against that poor child. Take her in yer
+arms once more--help her come back! If God didn't
+clean His own slate once in a while and forgive us,
+none of us would ever get to heaven. Hush! Quiet
+now! Somebody's just come into the office. I'll not
+let any one in to disturb ye. Stay where ye are till I
+see. I hear a voice. WHAT! Well, as I'm alive, it's
+Father Cruse--what's he come for at this hour? Shall
+I let him in?"
+
+Felix lifted himself slowly to his feet, as would a man
+in a hospital ward who sees the doctor approaching.
+
+"Yes, let him in; I was going to look him up." He
+was relieved at the interruption. Kitty's appeal had
+deeply stirred him, but had not swerved him from his
+purpose. He had done his duty--all of it, to the very
+last. The day's developments had ended everything.
+He had no right to bring a criminal into his family.
+
+Kitty swung wide the door and Father Cruse stepped
+in. He wore his heavy cassock, which was flecked with
+snow, and his wide hat.
+
+"My messenger told me you were here, Mr. O'Day,"
+he cried out, in a cheery voice, "and I came at once.
+And, Mrs. Cleary, I am more than glad to find you here
+as well."
+
+Felix stepped forward. "It was very good of you, Father.
+I was coming down to see you in a few minutes."
+They had shaken hands and the three stood together.
+
+The priest glanced in question at Kitty, then back
+again at Felix. "Does Mrs. Cleary--"
+
+"Yes, Mrs. Cleary knows," returned Felix calmly.
+"I have told her everything. Lady Barbara--" he
+paused, the words were strangling him, "has been arrested
+--for stealing--and is now in the Tombs prison."
+
+Father Cruse laid his hand on O'Day's shoulder.
+"No, my friend, she is not in the Tombs. I took her
+to St. Barnabas's Home and put her in charge of the
+Sisters."
+
+Felix straightened his back. "You have saved her
+from it."
+
+"Yes, two hours ago. And she can stay there until
+the matter is settled, or just as long as you wish it."
+His hand was still on O'Day's shoulder, his mind intent
+on the drawn features, seamed with the furrows the
+last few hours had ploughed. He saw how he had
+suffered.
+
+Felix stretched out his hand as if to steady himself,
+motioned the priest to a chair, and sank into his
+own.
+
+"In the Sisters' Home," he repeated mechanically,
+after a moment's silence. Then rousing himself: "And
+you will see her, Father, from time to time?"
+
+"Yes, every day. Why do you ask such a question--
+of me, in particular?"
+
+"Because," replied Felix slowly, "I may be away--
+out of the country. I have just asked Mrs. Cleary to
+look after Masie and she has promised she will. And
+I am going to ask you to look after my poor wife.
+They must be very gentle with her--and they should
+not judge her too harshly." He seemed to be talking
+at random, thinking aloud rather than addressing his
+companions. "Since I saw you I have received a letter
+from my solicitor. There is some money coming to
+me, he says, and I shall see that she is not a burden to
+you."
+
+The priest turned abruptly, and laid a firm hand on
+O'Day's knee. "But you will see her, of course?"
+
+"No, it is better that you act for me. She will not
+want to see me in her present condition."
+
+Kitty was about to protest, when Father Cruse
+waved her into silence. "You certainly cannot mean
+what you have just said, Mr. O'Day?"
+
+"I do."
+
+The priest rose quickly, passed though the kitchen,
+and opened the door leading to the outer office. Two
+women stood waiting, one in a long cloak, the other
+clinging to her arm, her face white as chalk, her lips
+quivering.
+
+"Come in," said the priest.
+
+Martha put her arm around Lady Barbara and led
+her into the room.
+
+Felix staggered to his feet.
+
+The two stood facing each other, Lady Barbara
+searching his eyes, her fingers tight hold of Martha's
+arm.
+
+"Don't turn away, Felix," she sobbed. "Please
+listen. Father Cruse said you would. He brought me
+here."
+
+No answer came, nor did he move, nor had he heard
+her plea. It was the bent, wasted figure and sunken
+cheeks, the strands of her still beautiful hair in a coil
+about her neck, that absorbed him.
+
+Again her eyes crept up to his.
+
+"I'm so tired, Felix--so tired. Won't you please
+take me home to my father--"
+
+He made a step forward, halted as if to recover his
+balance, wavered again, and stretched out his hands.
+
+"Barbara! BARBARA!" he cried. "Your home is
+here." And he caught her in his arms.
+
+END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Felix O'Day, by F. Hopkinson Smith
+
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