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diff --git a/old/68894-0.txt b/old/68894-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index bf2af29..0000000 --- a/old/68894-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9232 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Twenty tales by twenty women, by -Anonymous - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Twenty tales by twenty women - From real life in Chicago - -Author: Anonymous - -Release Date: September 1, 2022 [eBook #68894] - -Language: English - -Produced by: MFR and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at - https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images - generously made available by The Internet Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWENTY TALES BY TWENTY -WOMEN *** - - - - - - - TWENTY TALES - BY - Twenty Women - - From Real Life in Chicago - - ANONYMOUS - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED - - FOR SALE ONLY - BY - NOVELTY PUBLISHING CO. - CHICAGO, ILL. - - COPYRIGHT, 1903 - BY - NOVELTY PUBLISHING CO. - - - - -CONTENTS. - - - PAGE - - PREFACE 3 - - INTRODUCTION 5 - - A WOMAN’S ANGUISH 13 - - TALE ONE—The Diary of a Chicago Girl 17 - - TALE TWO—The Life Story of a Southern Widow 33 - - TALE THREE—A Story of the Chicago Ghetto 53 - - TALE FOUR—A Woman of Thirty-eight 71 - - TALE FIVE—A Forecast 89 - - TALE SIX—A Daughter of Proud Kentucky 103 - - TALE SEVEN—My Lover’s Bequest 129 - - TALE EIGHT—The Victim of a Drug 145 - - TALE NINE—What Happened to a Girl Who Flirted 163 - - TALE TEN—Sold at a Fixed Price 173 - - TALE ELEVEN—A Story of Suicide Bridge 181 - - TALE TWELVE—Two Babes and Two Mothers 193 - - TALE THIRTEEN—Not Guilty 205 - - TALE FOURTEEN—My Lover’s Daughter 215 - - TALE FIFTEEN—As Told to a Clergyman 221 - - TALE SIXTEEN—A Story of Stage Life 231 - - TALE SEVENTEEN—A Trip Across the Lake 261 - - TALE EIGHTEEN—One Woman’s Way 269 - - TALE NINETEEN—A Story of the Levee 291 - - TALE TWENTY—A Scientific Phenomenon 305 - - - - -PREFACE. - - “It may be weeds I’ve gathered, too; - But even weeds may be as fragrant, - With some sweet memory. - As the fairest flower.” - - -Without apology this book goes forth. If it is productive of some good, -it will have fulfilled its mission. - -In presenting this work it is with a feeling of restitution. If I have -digressed from, or stormed the barricaded citadel of formal literature, -I have done so without hesitation, simply complying with an obeisance -to civility toward my fellow men. I have pictured life as a man of the -world is sometimes forced to see it, and not altogether as angels would -transcribe it. - -If the manner in which the subjects are hereinafter treated and woven -into stories, meets the approval of the public, the work will have served -to indicate the power and simplicity of truth.—THE AUTHOR. - - “All truth is precious, if not divine, - And what dilates the pow’rs must needs refine.” - - - - -INTRODUCTION. - - -“Without women, the beginning of our life would be helpless; the middle, -devoid of pleasure, and the end of consolation.” - - “The very first - Of human life must spring from woman’s breast, - Your first small words are taught you from her lips, - Your first tears quench’d by her, and your last sighs - Too often breathed out in a woman’s hearing, - When men have shrunk from the ignoble care - Of watching the last hour of him who led them.” - -In London alone there are eighty thousand fallen women, and, while the -number is infinitely smaller in Chicago, they all have a history, an -excuse to offer, and a tale to tell. - -We have resided upon this terrestrial sphere just long enough to know -that the reformation of a fallen woman rivals the labors of Hercules. All -men have a physical nature and must meet people who appeal to it. - -The conditions are such that there has arisen in society, a figure that -is certainly the most mournful, and, in some respects, the most awful, -upon which the eye of the moralist can dwell. That unhappy being, whose -very name it is a shame to speak; who counterfeits, with a cold heart, -the transports of affection and submits herself as the passive instrument -of lust; who is scorned and insulted as the vilest of her sex, and -doomed, for the most part, to disease and abject wretchedness of men, -then death. - -Who will pity her? A poor unknown, who shall be lowered into a grave of -cold clay (and possibly in the potter’s field), among slimy, creeping -things that feed on foul air and putrid masses. Not even a slab to say, -“Here lies.” - -With dreamy eyes and rum dulled brain, her companions take in the scene -without warning. They shrink not from the horrors of the charnel house or -the maggot filled grave; sin fascinates them as the cursed death giving -flame does the foolish moth. They continue to cultivate avarice, defy all -laws of nature and modesty, all rules of etiquette, and break down all -barriers which ordinarily defend pure womanhood. - - “She is a rag and a bone and a hank of hair.” - -Women of this class feel that they are social outcasts, that their sins -are as scarlet; they believe that they are past reform. - -Herself, the supreme type of vice, she is usually the most efficient -guardian of virtue. But for her, the unchallenged purity of countless -homes would be polluted, and not a few, who, in the pride of their -untested chastity, think of her with an indignant shudder, would have -known the agony of remorse and despair. - -On that one degraded and ignoble form are concentrated the passions that -might have filled the world with shame. - -She remains while creeds and civilization rise and fall, the eternal -priestess of humanity, blasted for the sins of the world. - -It is not our intention to perorate and dissertate on a theory calculated -to turn the world into a miniature heaven, for we don’t believe for the -fractional part of a moment that a general reformation of the fallen is -practicable or possible. It is not unusual that the men who deplore so -loudly the existence of soiled doves are the very men who are responsible -for their existence. - -The only practicable solution that we may be tempted to offer, would be -for society to brand the men with the stigma of its contempt, the same as -it does the women, when he sinks himself below her level in an attempt to -pervert her purity. - -If the immoral men were ostracized from polite society with the same -despatch that a weak woman is, society would be composed almost entirely -of women. - -The world’s fallen women are divided into two classes: - -The woman whose nature is depraved, who is too coarse to realize or heed -the depth of her own infamy, and the woman whose circumstances have -forced her to a life of shame. Of the former, it is useless to take heed -for she understands nothing outside of her own depravity, and looks upon -reformation as a thing to be avoided. Fortunately she constitutes but a -small percentage of the half-world. - -The reclamation of the other woman is almost as utterly impossible for -the reason that she has realized and suffered too much. We have homes of -refuge for the friendless, retreats for the fallen, and hospitals for -the poor, but after all the red tape formula for admittance has been -complied with, they dispense only the cold crusts of charity. - -Where can a woman turn, whose suffering soul is tottering on the brink -of the world’s damnation? To whom shall she turn for the tender touch of -Christian pity, the charity of a human undertaking half divine? Surely, -not to the church that “Bows the knee to pomp that loves to varnish -guilt;” not to the women of merciless hearts and useless lives who -boast of chastity because of frozen veins; not to public charities who -advertise her squalor and her shame; not to the worldly man, whose aid -is; almost invariably extended in return for favors their families know -not of, but she turns to the hell of the world’s lost souls when men no -longer find her a convenience. - -The modest woman of mental refinement finds a rival in the person with -a good figure (no matter how blatant), who is able to set the pace that -lures the men. - -Whatever her personal merits may be, her position precludes the -possibility of her re-entering social circles that would be agreeable -to her. She sees the girls about her who have smothered their moral -scruples, wearing good clothes, going to entertainments and receiving the -attentions of gentlemen who have no hesitancy in being parted from their -money, if value is received, and it is small wonder if she, too, takes -the initial step that leads to the “crib” in the “tenderloin.” - -After having established the reputation of being “game,” there is no -dearth of so called respectable men who are willing to be “kind” to her. -The men who are responsible for these conditions are not the rough men of -the lower classes, but the professional men, the men in business; many -with families and nice homes, who represent the respectable element in -the community. - -If all the ancient prudes and wind-jammers, who are so intensely -interested in the fallen, would give their support to the decent men who -give their employes living wages, instead of straining their corsets to -wedge in next to the bargain counter in the department stores, whose -scale of wages breeds prostitution and moral depravity, they might -discover in the next decade, more self-supporting, decent women, and less -fair faces flushed with lust in the glare of the red light “brothel.” - -In presenting this work to the public it is not the intention of the -author to bruise the hearts of fond parents, who may be able to recall -sad occurrences, after having read the following chapters; nor to censure -the subjects, whose life stories are told in the following narrations; -not to bring down unjust criticism on the head of any class; but rather -to point out in a measure, the reasons most apparent to a man of the -world, for licentious crime. - -If asked why I have chosen Chicago as the field from which to gather data -for this volume, my answer would be, “because of its great population”; -because to it visitors flock from every part of; the United States and -many foreign countries; because it is nearer to the center of population -than any other large city, hence more often sought by wayward girls from -the surrounding territory, and the inducements which are held out to the -pleasure-loving public, whether those in quest of enjoyment be saint or -sinner, wolf or lamb, in gay Chicago are conducive to the character of -amusement and excitement necessary to the life of those whose stories are -herein told. - -This book will claim its right to life by detailing the life story of -each one of these children of God, from the child-life in a quiet, -peaceful home in some rural hamlet, through the trials and vicissitudes -of unfortunate or misspent life. - -This book, unlike the Bible, is all written in Chicago. The twenty -disciples come from twenty different places. They, endeavoring to lose -their identity in the whirl of racy life and excitement, seek the phantom -happiness in this great city. For a time all goes well. Gaiety and mirth -mingle, and fortune conspires with pleasure to mislead the novice; then -the scenes grow old; happiness eludes the grasp; tawdry garments no -longer please the eye; the tinsel tarnishes; disappointed hope begets -despair, and then a few grains of a friendly drug or the cold waves, of -the lake offer rest and relief. The city becomes pregnant with these poor -unfortunates, tortured by regret and shame, goaded down by necessity and -the scorn of former friends. Then there is birth—this book is born. It -goes out into the world to tell the naked truth for the good of mankind. - -While this work is prepared from a truly moral standpoint, let it be -known that it is the intention to entertain as well as to instruct, to -deal with bare facts in order that the reader will thoroughly understand -the situation as it exists. - -Should the reader, while in the act of drinking in the words of these -crushed flowers, find an instance wherein, by the recital of her story, -by sheer accident or otherwise, recognize the possessor of that story, do -not, for the love of humanity, be so unkind as to say, “I told you so.” - -You may know, aye adore, some man whose fault it is that that particular -girl was placed in the position which makes the tale of her life so -miserably sad to some and yet so racy and full of color to others. If, -after having read the story of his wrong-doing, together with the pain he -has caused, he does not develop into a different sort of a man, put him -down as an iniquitous night-bird, fit to flit and hoot by night in search -of prey; one in whom a spark of manhood never glows and whose crimes and -abominations are myriad, marking him as a loathsome creature, who fears -the truth and shuns the light of day; one whose conscience is seared -beyond redemption and who possesses no conception of charity, pity, -sorrow or regret. - -It is a pitiable and cruel fact that the great source from which the -ranks of scarlet are replenished, are young women from the country, who, -disgraced in their own community, fly from home to escape the infamy and -rush to the city with anger, desperation and revolt in their hearts. Oh, -that society would punish more severely the respectable seducers and -destroyers of innocent women. - -Another lamentable fact is that those who enter into this diabolical -traffic, are seldom saved. We have avoided no labor or pains in our -researches on this subject, and we wish all who read this to mark well -our words. - -When a woman once enters a house of prostitution and leads the life of -those who dwell there, it is too late for redemption and there is no -hope for her. When a woman once nerves herself for the fatal plunge, a -change comes over her whole character and, sustained by outraged love, -transformed into hate by miscalculating but indomitable pride, revenge -and the excitement of her new environments, her fate is fixed, her doom -is sealed. - -Hence this book, “TWENTY TALES BY TWENTY WOMEN.” - - - - -A WOMAN’S ANGUISH. - - - “Sitting alone by the window, watching the moonlit street; - Bending my head to listen to the well known sounds of your feet; - I have been wondering, darling, how I could hear the pain, - When I watched with sighs and tear-wet eyes and waited your coming in - vain. - - “For I know the day approaches when you will tire of me, - When by the door I may watch and wait for the form I will not see; - When the love that is now my heaven, the kisses that make my life, - You will bestow on another, and that other will be your wife. - - “You will grow tired of serving, though you do not call it so; - You will long for a love that is pure, the love that we two know. - God knows that I loved you dearly, with a passion strong and pure, - But you will grow tired and leave me though I gave up all for you. - - “I was pure as the morning when I first looked upon your face; - I knew I never could reach you, on your high exalted place, - But I looked and loved and worshiped, as a flower might worship a star, - But your eyes shone down on me and you seemed so far, so far. - - “And then I knew that you loved me, loved me with all your heart, - But we could not stand at the altar, we were so far apart; - If a star would wed a flower, the star must drop from the sky, - Or the flower, in trying to reach it, would droop on its stalk and die. - - “And you said that you loved me dearly, and swore by the heaven above, - That the Lord and all His angels would sanction and bless our love, - And I was weak, not wicked, my love was pure and true, - And sin itself seemed a virtue, when only shared by you. - - “We have been happy together, though, under a cloud of sin; - But I know that the day approaches when my chastening will begin. - You have been faithful and tender, but you will not always be, - And I think I had better leave you while your thoughts are kind of me. - - “Oh, God! I could never bear it; it would madden my brain, I know; - So while you love me dearly, I think I had better go. - It is sweeter to feel my darling, to know as I fall asleep, - That some one will mourn and miss me, that some one is left to weep. - - “That to die as I would in the future, to fall in the street some day, - Unknown, unwept and forgotten, when you have cast me away; - Perhaps the blood of the Savior can wash my garments clean; - Perchance I may drink the water that flows through the pastures green. - - “Perchance we may meet in heaven, and walk in the streets above, - With nothing to grieve or part us, since our sinning was all through - love. - God says, ‘Love one another,’ and down to the depths of hell - Will he send the soul of a woman, because she loved and fell. - - “Perchance if we had never met, I had been spared this last regret, - This endless striving to forget; and yet, I could not bear the pain - Of never seeing you again. - Ah, leave me not, I love but thee; blessing or curse whiche’er thou be; - Oh, be as thou hast been to me, forever and forever.”’ - - And so in the moonlight he found her, as around her beautiful clay - (Lifeless and pallid as marble, for her spirit had flown away), - The farewell words she had written she held to her cold, white breast, - And the buried blade of a dagger told how she had done the rest. - - - - -TALE ONE. - -THE DIARY OF A CHICAGO GIRL. - -This story is a copy of the diary kept by a wealthy Chicago girl, who was -found dead in her room. - - “When lovely woman stoops to folly - And finds too late that men betray, - What charm can soothe her melancholy? - What art can wash her guilt away? - - “The only art her guilt to cover, - To hide her shame from every eye, - To give repentance to her lover, - And wring his bosom, is—to die.” - - -JANUARY 1. - -I, Louise Montgomery, twenty-five years of age, and in full possession of -all my faculties, do hereby affirm that I will herein chronicle all the -noteworthy happenings of my life for the period of one year. - -Little diary, I am surprised that I, having reached the mature age of -twenty-five, should become so sentimental as to wish to keep a diary. -What has prompted me I cannot say. Time may reveal it. - -The old year has just passed into eternity and the New Year has -but commenced his reign as I write. Yes, a new year with all its -possibilities. I hope at the end of this year I may look back upon it -as the one bright year of my life. I have not made a thousand good -resolutions, as I have done hitherto, but mean to meet the trials and -temptations of each day as bravely as possible. - -I am not in love yet, little diary, and I want you to bear witness to -this fact. There is a man whom you do not know, and to whom I shall -introduce you now, for if I can convert him to my way of thinking by the -end of this year, I shall not have lived in vain, and I shall have much -to tell you about him as the days go by. - -He is married, this man of whom I speak. That in itself would preclude -the possibility of my loving him now, or falling in love with him in the -future. - -He has a lovely wife and one child. He speaks of her often and dwells on -her excellent qualities, until I too love her. - -He loves her? Maybe he does, but I fear he does not, not to the fullest -extent. It must be my work of this year to teach him the error of his -way. He has never by word or action intimated that he cares for me, but -I am sensible, not conceited, and know he is—well, he likes to tell how -happy he is, too well. People who are thoroughly happy give no thought -to the opinion of the world, but live only in the sunshine of their -beloved’s presence. I think my task will be a delightful one. He is -awfully good looking, very tall and well developed, polished and withal -so interesting. It was strange how we became interested in one another -the very first night of our meeting. That Thanksgiving ball will be a -memorable one. How striking he looked in his full dress suit and how -perfectly he dances! I wonder what New Year resolutions he has made. -I mean to ask him, if he is at the dance tonight. No, I guess I won’t -either; men are conceited and he might think I had been giving him rather -more thought than mere casual acquaintance would warrant. Perhaps he -doesn’t realize his danger. Well, I must retire now to pleasant dreams. - - -JANUARY 2. - -Oh, what a grand time I had last night. I was the belle of the ball and -Mr. Forsythe said he never saw me so radiant. I felt a little as if I -ought not to allow him to say it, but I couldn’t really find a reason for -criticising him for what many others said, and then, too, if I assume -that he is doing wrong, when he may never have thought of it, I shall -spoil all my chances for doing good. I know I did look my best, for -that clinging black crepe gown is most becoming. I wonder how Nell is -progressing with her affair. Somehow she doesn’t seem to me to be looking -very happy. - - -JANUARY 6. - -I didn’t intend to neglect you so soon, my father confessor, but I have -been so busy and so tired at night that I couldn’t keep my eyes open, and -I want you to be as much of a credit to me in appearances as my own deeds -are to be. - -There has been nothing of vital importance to set down here this time. I -had a long talk with Nell Sears today and I conjectured correctly about -her being unhappy. She is engaged to Professor Kurtz, but he says it is -impossible for him to marry her publicly, as long as he teaches in the -University, for they would discharge him. That seems queer to me. I -think I shall investigate the matter for my own satisfaction, for who -knows, a Professor might propose to me sometime. He wants her to marry -him quietly, and she doesn’t want to do it I wouldn’t if I were she. A -society girl in her position would run a great risk, I think. - - -JANUARY 10. - -I had a long talk with Mr. Forsythe today. When I told him I was going -away tomorrow he looked sad, and said he should miss me very much. You -see it was this way. We met by sheer accident at the silk counter at -Field’s. He was matching some silk for his wife, and I was searching -for something suitable for a new evening gown. He helped me select an -exquisite thing, all pink and silver. I think I overstepped my limit as -to price, but I didn’t like to “haggle” when he was standing there. He -said I would be the center of attraction wherever I wore that, and some -other complimentary trifles, not worth mentioning. By the time we had -concluded our purchases it was luncheon hour and he insisted on my going -up to the tea-room with him. - -He asked me if I would write to him while I was away; that it would be -such a pleasure to hear how I was enjoying myself. I gave a reluctant -consent after he said, “If you knew how much good it would do me, you -would not refuse.” - -I wish I knew whether I did right or not. - - -JANUARY 25. - -Detroit is such a lovely city and I am having such a royal, good time, -that I have neglected thee, my little white-faced friend. - -Florence has kept me going every minute. I met a Mr. Ford last night and -of all the men I have met since coming here I like him the best. He loves -music, poetry and flowers, and we are very congenial. - -I have been here two weeks and have not kept my promise to Mr. Forsythe -to write. I must do so tonight, so farewell, my friend, for tonight. - - -FEBRUARY 1. - -I received such a delightful letter from Mr. Forsythe this afternoon. -Such poetical sentiments, such pen pictures! It was certainly the most -beautiful letter I ever received. I wonder what he could have thought of -my poor, little missive. Still it is worth something to have inspired -such a beautiful reply. I wonder how soon I ought to answer. I should -like to get another from him soon, but I wouldn’t have him know it for -the world. - - -FEBRUARY 15. - -I had another letter from Mr. Forsythe today. It was just a note -inquiring for Mrs. Madden’s address. It makes me smile. Men aren’t so -very sharp after all. As if I couldn’t see that the inquiry was only an -excuse to write to me and a gentle reminder of the fact that I owe him a -letter. - - -FEBRUARY 23. - -Well, whom do you suppose was at the ball tonight? I was never so -surprised in my life. It was a club dance and Mr. Forsythe was there. I -did not know he was in the city. Oh, what a grand waltz we had! He said -business had called him East and he thought he would stop at Detroit for -a day before going on to New York. - -Of course we know it was some one who wore a pink gown and has brown -eyes, don’t we? - -He is dear, he looked down into my eyes and said, “What beautiful -unfathomed depths your soul has, though I can get but a peep at it -through those eyes.” - -I can’t help it, I like to hear him say those things, although I ought -not to allow it and I know it. He is coming to call this afternoon. - - -FEBRUARY 25. - -Well, he was here and Florence thought he was lovely. She came in -for a few moments and then excused herself, so we had the time all -to ourselves. I don’t know how I dared to do it, but it seemed as if -something impelled me to, and I said, “Mr. Forsythe, I don’t believe you -are as happy as you say you are. If you were you would not encourage -yourself so much.” - -He was silent what seemed to me an interminable length of time and I -thought, “Now, my lady, you have spoiled your chances to do a good work, -by a word inopportunely spoken.” But I was wrong. He came over to me and -sat down beside me on the couch. He took my hand in his and said, “Miss -Montgomery, you are right, but you are the only one who has discerned it, -or at least the only one who has said so.” - -Then I told him I was sorry I had been so abrupt, but he assured me that -it was all right and that he was glad I had spoken because now he would -feel free to talk the whole matter over with me. - -He said his wife was good and kind, in fact, I don’t know that he said -anything but nice things, now that I stop to think of it. - -But, little diary, I think I have discovered the trouble. I don’t believe -she understands him. She doesn’t appreciate the depth of his nature. It -may be no fault of hers; she associates with him daily and feels herself -so much a part of him that she has ceased to analyze him. It is not that -he has ceased to be interesting to her, for she loves him devotedly, but -it is the nature of a man to desire commendation and encouragement. He -doesn’t wish it to be taken for granted that he is doing well, but wishes -to hear words, words. - -A deep bond of sympathy exists between us. I understand and he feels that -I understand. Oh, I am sure now that I can do good! - - -MARCH 1. - -Well, little diary, you and I are going to return to Chicago Wednesday, -back to our home and our work. I am not going to send Mr. Forsythe any -word, but will surprise him by appearing in person at Mrs. Carter’s party -Friday night I wonder how he will look and what he will say. - - -MARCH 7. - -The last words I wrote the other night were, “I wonder how he will -look, what he will say.” His face was a study, pleasure and surprise the -dominant emotions. He said only three words as he clasped my hand in his. -“Welcome home, Louise.” Louise! How he drew out the syllables. I never -before realized that my name was musical. I asked him how all the family -were and he said well and happy. Then he said Mrs. Forsythe was there and -he wanted us to meet. She is lovely, and as they came up to me she was -looking at him so fondly and proudly, I could see the devotion in her -eyes. I couldn’t help feeling a sharp twinge of my conscience as I stood -chatting to her, but I should not, for my intentions are the best, and if -she knew all the circumstances she would commend me, I know. - - -MARCH 16. - -Sister and I were among several guests at Mr. and Mrs. Forsythe’s box -party last night and Robert managed to have the chair next mine, and -when “the lights were dim and low” he found my hand and gave it a gentle -squeeze and said, “I want to have a long talk with you soon, without fear -of interruption, and I know of no way this can be had unless you meet me -down town and take dinner with me.” - -I asked him if he thought it was right, and he said, “You know I would -not ask you to do anything I thought was wrong.” - -So I have promised to go. I wonder what in the world he is going to tell -me. - - -MARCH 27. - -We had dinner at Rector’s at four o’clock today. Robert told me that he -loved me. I was dumbfounded and must have shown it plainly. I asked him -if he was in the habit of making love to young women. His lips quivered -and he said, “I don’t blame you for being offended, but I swear to you -that this is the first time I ever told a woman I loved her when I had -not the right to do so. I am sorry, so sorry, I have told you, for I -might have gone on suffering alone, and you would have never been the -wiser, while now I have made you unhappy, too. Can you forgive me?” - -He leaned over toward me and looked into my eyes so eagerly for an -affirmative answer that—well, how could I refuse forgiveness, and then, -you know, my work must be considered. - - -APRIL 2. - -Nell had an “All Fool’s” party last night, and such pranks as we played! -Of course Robert was not there, because only the young people were there, -and it seemed rather strange; in fact, I know I missed him, but this is -only for you to know, my faithful. Mr. Ford was there and he is awfully -nice, knows just what to do to make a girl comfortable. I am going to the -opera with him tonight. I shall enjoy it immensely with him, I know. - - -APRIL 14. - -O dear! Robert is jealous of Mr. Ford. He happened to be at the opera -that night and saw us. He says he did not mean to be too observing, but -that he loved me so well that he couldn’t keep his eyes off me, and that -Mr. Ford must be in love with me, too, from the attention he bestowed -upon me. - - -APRIL 26. - -Florence has been here since the 15th on a shopping expedition and we -have had no end of fun. She insists on my returning with her and so I -think we will go, you and I. - - -MAY 15. - -Have been here two weeks and had a wire today from Robert. He will be -here the 17th, to remain a few days. I am just wondering what I can do -with Mr. Ford while he is here, for I shall have to devote every minute -to Robert, and that won’t please Mr. Ford very well. Oh, dear! I’m always -getting my wires crossed. - - -MAY 17. - -I met Robert at the train today and before I could say a word he had put -his arm around me and kissed me, right on the lips. His first kiss, May -17th. - - -MAY 20. - -Robert was here tonight and Florence had gone to the theater, we were -left alone. He took me in his arms and kissed me again and again and -every kiss thrilled me like an electric shock. I felt the blood tingling -to the ends of my fingers. I never felt so strange in my life. I pulled -away from him as soon as I could, but, oh, those kisses. They seemed to -intoxicate me. I felt as if I had been transported to Elysian fields, -and could die happy right there with my lips pressed to his. We had such -a nice visit. He says I am his guiding star, and that everything has -gone better since he knew me. I told him that he must never forget his -wife and he assured me that he would not, could not when he had such a -sweet reminder, even if she were not always so good and kind. He said, -too, that she could not satisfy the longings in his soul which had been -there for years, until he met me. That a man must have love, sympathy and -encouragement to fill his life and make it complete. - - -JUNE 4. - -I had a telegram from New York this morning. It was from Robert asking me -to meet him there. I—shall I go or shall I not? - - -JUNE 6. - -I have decided to go. I had some shopping to do anyway, and I can do -better there than here or in Chicago. - - -JUNE 10. - -When I arrived here, Robert had a beautiful suite of rooms engaged for me -at the Fifth Avenue Hotel. He told me more about his life at home, and -its deficiencies, and that his health was failing him. I am dreadfully -worried about him, he looks badly. I wonder what I ought to do? If she -only knew how he felt and that she was the cause of it, she might do -differently, but it is such a delicate matter, I am afraid to interfere. -I pity him so much. He is coming to see me tonight. He has said no word, -but the hungry look in his eyes speaks to my heart more forcibly than -words. He will take me in his arms again tonight, and once more I shall -feel the thrill when our lips meet in one long kiss, and maybe I shall -say, “Robert, take me for your own, if it will restore you to health.” - - -JUNE 12. - -Robert came. We talked over the whole matter. I asked him if there was -anyone else in his life. He said _no_! That he had never loved anyone but -me. Then—then, I put myself in his arms and said, “Robert, take me!” He -said, “Little girl, are you sure you want to make the sacrifice?” I said, -“Yes.” I gave myself willingly for pity’s sake, not for love, because I -do not love him. Then our compact was sealed with a kiss. Our lips met, -and soon I was all his. - -How can I entrust this to you, my silent friend? How can I sully your -white pages with a relation of my conduct. The world would call me bad if -it knew. I should not be the highly respected Louise Montgomery, that I -have always been, and all because I have chosen to bring happiness to one -who was dying for love. - -I wonder if I can go back to the old scenes and feel the same; feel -that I am worthy to mingle with the old friends. Yet why should I feel -thus? If anyone is wronged it is I. It must be the imaginings of a -super-sensitive conscience, or the result of early training which makes -me feel unworthy. I wonder what our Rector would say if he could look -down into my heart and see; can it be possible that there are others in -our set who are as guilty—I must not think it, much less write it. But -after all, I do not regret. I have made a sacrifice for a worthy cause. - - -JUNE 30. - -Back home again and getting ready to go away for the summer. Have seen -Robert three times since I returned, and we seem to grow nearer and -dearer to each other. - - -JULY 10. - -Petoskey never seemed one-half so beautiful to me as it does this season. -Even the people are nicer. The men are kind and attentive but towering -over and above them all, I can see the face of the one man I love. Yes, -little diary, I love him now, he has woven himself into my very nature -even in this short time. “I could not forget you, dear Robert, if all -these men were kings and princes, for you are my prince and my king. Your -dear letters are such a comfort to me, and I am so happy in your love, -even though I know there is no future.” - -How I miss him! It is always he who thinks of the little things that go -to make up a woman’s life. - - -JULY 31. - -My sweetheart is coming today. I am counting the hours. Just three hours -and twenty minutes and I shall be with him once more. What a perfect day -this. Nature seems to reflect my joy. - - -AUGUST 1. - -We are going for a long drive today, through the fragrant pine woods. We -will be alone for the first time since he came. I can feel those dear -arms about me, those full, soft lips on mine, even now. - - -AUGUST 14. - -Robert is going today, and with him goes the brightness. We have had -such a glorious two weeks of constant companionship. We will be reunited -soon, though, for he is going up into Canada to find a quiet, country -home where we can spend the best month of the whole year—beautiful, hazy -October. I am supposed to be going to New York. - -“Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.” - - -SEPTEMBER 3. - -Florence is here and I have taken her into my confidence, not from -choice, but because it seemed necessary. I am sure she loves me just as -well as before, but she says it is wrong, all wrong. That I am making the -greatest mistake of my life; that no man is worthy of the sacrifice, and -that in time, even though he is true now, he will weary of me. Ugh! “She -made me to shudder and grow sick at heart.” But I do not believe it. Is -he not my “Roumald,” I his “Clarimonde”? How many times he has said, “To -know you is to know all women.” And that satiety itself I set on fire. - - -SEPTEMBER 30. - -At last, at last! I leave on the North-West today for the “Soo,” where -Robert joins me, and together we go to Collinwood, on Georgian Bay. - -He found a beautiful country home near there, which is ideally quiet and -overlooks the Bay. - - -OCTOBER 2. - -We are on our way. Oh, the joy of this trip, the perfect contentment. -Robert’s face has been radiant with happiness all day. When I see him -in his strength, and manly beauty, enjoying God’s choicest gift, good -health, and know that I am the cause, should I not rejoice? - - -OCTOBER 16. - -What an ideal spot! It beggars description. We are so happy. Sometimes we -stroll together through the woods, where the warm tinted Autumn leaves -make a soft carpet for our feet. When we tire, we sit down and he reads -to me by the hour. What a beautiful world! I never dreamed of such tender -solicitude as he shows me in every action. At night if I stir or murmur -in my sleep, he awakens me by drawing me closer to his heart and saying, -“What is it, pet, are you in pain?” I laugh at him and tell him he must -not be so foolish. He says in reply that he loves me every minute of the -day and night, that his thoughts are filled with me, whether waking or -sleeping, and that he loves to waken me for he is sure of two soft arms -stealing around his neck in a warm embrace, and two red lips seeking his. - - -NOVEMBER 1. - -Oh, dear! It is all ever, this, the very happiest month of my life. As -we were about to leave the room where we have been so happy for the last -time, he clasped me to his breast and sobbed like a baby and I wept -with him. Oh, dear! how can I ever give him up again to those to whom he -belongs? - - -NOVEMBER 6. - -At home once more. I am so lonely and desolate. Little diary, I wonder if -this is punishment. Yet, if I have done no wrong, why should I think this -is punishment? - - -NOVEMBER 23. - -Dear God! If I might have been spared this great agony! Anything but -this! My idol shattered and my heart broken. He was not true, and I -trusted him so implicitly! How could he deceive me so? There was another -woman who entered his life before he ever met me. She either heard or -imagined that he had transferred his affections to me and came to me with -all, asking me to give him up, because he is all she has in the world. -She has no home, no one to care for her and supply her wants as I have. -How could he do it? How could he do it? Not quite a year. Oh, the agony -of it! - -I went to him with her statement and he said it was true, but that -he never loved her. I cannot believe him. I cannot believe anyone or -anything now. I have no one I can tell. I must suffer all alone. Florence -is the only one and I would die before I would tell her. My pride won’t -allow me to admit his perfidy to anyone. I cannot bear to have the world -think ill of him, even now. How can I live and bear it? I will not. -I cannot. I will end it all. Goodbye, little diary, my only faithful -friend. You, too, might have proved false had you the power. Goodbye. - - - - -TALE TWO. - -THE LIFE STORY OF A SOUTHERN WIDOW. - -NOT QUITE THE SAME. - - “Not quite the same the springtime seems to me, - Since that sad season when in separate ways - Our paths diverged. There are no more such days - As dawned for us in that last time when we - Dwelt in the realm of dreams, illusive dreams; - Spring may be just as fair now, but it seems - Not quite the same.” - - -“Ah, good evening, Mr. Philmore! I have been expecting you. Have this -chair, please.” - -As I took the proffered seat I gazed steadily at my hostess. A woman -in possession of all her natural charms, a picture of health, a vision -of grace and an example of nobility. Time had softened her features; -the sweetness of childhood had grown tenfold in the process of matronly -perfection. The erectness of carriage, the finely traced features, the -shapely hand and dainty foot, so highly arched, denoted the purest type -of refinement, while no artist conceived more graceful curves than those -which were so plainly noticeable as one ran one’s eyes from head to feet; -gowned in some soft, clinging black silk, the contour of her figure was a -feast for the eyes of gods. The soft, dulcet tones in which she plainly -articulated, were of sufficient sweetness to attract one to her if that -were the only charm which she could bring to bear. - -Nothing had been left undone in the furnishing of the elegant house in -which she lived; rich draperies adorned the walls, tapestry of the rarest -quality fittingly relieved the handsome oriental rugs and handsomely -frescoed ceilings. Potted plants placed here and there sent out such a -fragrant odor that it was almost impossible for one to believe that it -was midwinter and that the mercury hovered uncomfortably near zero. The -bric-a-brac and pictures were so well selected and artistically arranged -that one could readily see the rare good taste and culture which was a -dominant feature in the appointment of the entire establishment. The -cheeriness seemed to add a halo to the surroundings; the perfect harmony -with which all things were blended seemed to soften one’s nature to a -sense of responsibility toward things infinite. - -Large, liquid brown eyes rested softly on me, and the satiny complexion -of Mrs. Penway glowed with such a beaming radiance of congeniality that -despite her forty or more years, I felt as though I were basking in the -sunshine of youthful smiles. Coupled with all the beauty and symmetry -there was a distinct imprint of sadness on her features, which was -readily detected. They were not the hardened lines which denote misery -and want as associates to suffering, not the expression of hardship, but -rather that “resigned to duty” look. - -After commenting on the weather and general topics of the day I came to -the point by asking Mrs. Penway if she had her narration written. - -“No; I think, Mr. Philmore, that I shall recite the incidents to you as -they transpired and ask you to be kind enough to arrange the statement -into sentences best suited to your purpose.” - -“Very well, I will do the best I can to tell the tale in a readable -manner.” - -“To begin with, I am a native of Southern Missouri. My parents being -Scotch, I feel that my ancestry is traceable through a long line of -descendants. My father was engaged in the lumber business. It was his -custom to buy large tracts of timber land, then placing his mill at -convenient points he would proceed to convert all the available timber -into marketable lumber. Money proved to be the blessing and curse, which -was eventually the cause of more suffering than one cares to bear. - -“Years ago my father purchased a body of land in Arkansas, covering an -area of twelve thousand acres. In the transaction he became financially -involved to such an extent that he was compelled to go for assistance -to some of the large dealers to whom he was in the habit of selling the -greater part of his output. At this call for aid a man came to our home -to talk the matter over. He had the appearance of being a man of fifty -years of age; he was wealthy, very wealthy; he remained there for ten -days, during which time he seemed to grow very fond of me as a child and -would often pat me on the head, coaxingly calling me his little girl. - -“After he had gone, I overheard my parents talking. Father said, ‘Well, -that is a load off my mind.’ ‘And one off mine,’ said my mother. Then -she broke down and cried. Between the sobs I could gather but little. -However, I heard her say, ‘I know she will never be happy.’ - -“I had not the slightest idea to whom she referred. Next morning she -called me to her. ‘Dear,’ she said, ‘you are going away.’ - -“‘Oh, where to?’ I cried in my childish delight and anticipation of -travel. - -“Noting my eagerness and mistaking it for joy at leaving home, my mother, -with tears streaming down her dear white face, said, ‘Are you happy to -think of it?’ - -“‘No, not that, mother,’ said I, ‘but I should like to see and learn of -things which I have heard so much about and have known so little.’ - -“‘Well, dear, you are to go away from us and go into school. We, your -father and I, have concluded that it is best.’ - -“‘But mamma, won’t that cost a great deal of money?’ - -“‘Yes, but your father now has his affairs in shape so that he can afford -to educate you.’ - -“As my mother finished this last sentence a fresh torrent of tears sprang -from her eyes. It was all a mystery to me, for I had known of my father’s -difficulties; I could not understand the sudden turn of affairs. I -quickly resolved upon a plan which would at least enlighten me; there was -in the employ of my father a young man by the name of Landrie Grayson, -everyone called him ‘Lannie.’ He was a trusted man of affairs; things -which other men were never consulted upon were always brought to Lannie -for his advice. Lannie could explain to me the cause of this sudden -resolution on the part of my parents. - -“Lannie stood quite six feet tall, while his broad shoulders looked as -though he could carry with ease and grace the burdens which might quickly -crush other men out of all semblance of humanity. If his blue eyes were -tender, they were only a relief from the firmly set jaws, which plainly -said, ‘I will,’ without so much as a movement of the rather thin lips. I -knew that Lannie would know and tell me, for he was honest; he had been -in the family for years; I had learned to lean upon him as a brother, -and as I sought him out from among the whirling pullies, singing saws, -and swiftly crawling belts that day, I felt proud to think that I had at -different times during my infancy sat on one of those square shoulders or -clung tenaciously to that sinewy neck, as Lannie had waded through slough -and brush, taking me from place to place in the forest; he had killed -the snakes and chased away the wild boars that would so frighten me in -childhood, and when young squirrels were susceptible to capture he would -always keep the cage well filled with every known variety with which the -woods abounded. If Lannie was the strong rod on which I learned to lean, -wherein was I to blame? - -“Lannie saw me as I wistfully watched and waited, then giving some orders -(for he was papa’s foreman), he came to where I was standing and said, -‘What is it, Ailene?’ - -“‘Lannie, I want to tell you something.’ I think the tremor of my -childish voice impressed Lannie, for he asked me to go to the office, a -rough affair, but there were chairs there, and we could be alone and -away from the clanging saws and flying dust. - -“‘Now tell me what it is, little one,’ said Lannie, as he closed the -door and took up a handful of curls which had crowded out from under the -gingham bonnet which I wore. - -“‘Lannie, I am going away,’ said I. - -“‘I know it,’ replied Lannie. - -“‘You; who told you?’ - -“‘I heard the bargain.’ - -“‘Bargain; what’s that, Lannie?’ - -“‘I heard your father say that you could go.’ - -“‘Oh, did you hear him tell mamma?’ - -“‘No, I heard him tell the old man with the white side whiskers.’ - -“‘Do you know where I am going to, Lannie?’ - -“‘I only know that you are going away to school; the rich old man is to -select the place and you are to be sent there, and⸺’ - -“Lannie turned to the window without finishing the sentence. Presently he -resumed his speech again by asking if I was glad. I did not know what the -change in Lannie’s voice meant then, but I could not fail to notice it. - -“‘Yes, I want to go and learn to be a lady, but—I—don’t like to go away -and leave mamma and⸺’ - -“‘And who, Ailene?’ - -“‘You, Lannie. I will be lonely with a whole lot of dressed up children -and mean old teachers around.’ - -“Before I had closed my sentence Lannie had drawn me to him and was -kissing me fondly. - -“‘Oh, little girl, you don’t know how much Lannie will miss you, and to -think I won’t see you any more.’ - -“‘Why, Lannie, why do you say that? I won’t stay always.’ - -“‘No, but you see, little one, the rich man wants you for his own; he is -only waiting for you to be educated and grow into full womanhood. Then -you are to be his.’ - -“‘Hasn’t he any little girls of his own?’ - -“‘No, you poor dear, you don’t know what I mean; what it all means.’ - -“‘No, tell me, Lannie, for if it is not nice and good I don’t want to do -anything but just stay here.’ - -“‘Well, it’s this, Ailene; may God grant that you will forgive me for -disturbing your young heart, but your father came near losing all he had. -He applied to a firm for financial aid; the old gentleman who was here -furnished the much needed assistance under these conditions: That you be -educated at his expense and then he will marry you for he has fallen in -love with you.’ - -“‘Oh, the ugly old thing! I don’t want to marry him. I hate him. I don’t -want to marry anybody. I want to stay where you are,’ I cried. - -“‘Yes, dear, I know, but a great deal depends on you, for you were not to -know it yet, and as I have been a witness to the contract and have been -sworn to secrecy you must not tell anyone that you know.’ - -“‘But I won’t go.’ - -“‘Yes, pet, you must go and remember that you are only fifteen now; you -are not expected to marry your father’s benefactor until you are nineteen -or twenty, changes may take place before the time arrives for you to -give up all hope.’ - -“It was a sad leave taking for more than me; I shall never forget the -pained expression in my mother’s face and the stern, sad look of my -father as I waved my hand from the car window. - -“Lannie had carried a little basket of luncheon to the station for me, -and when I opened it on the train late that afternoon I found a handful -of wild flowers wrapped in a piece of the “Lumberman’s Journal,” which I -knew Lannie to be a regular subscriber of; there under the glass cover -are those same flowers, withered and faded beyond recognition, but the -sweet memory which clings to them makes them more precious to me than all -the blossoms this world contains. - -“I had four years of school life with everything that money could buy, -kind friends, pleasant surroundings and indulgent teachers. - -“But oh, how I longed for mother, for the woods, the vines and moss, the -whirr of saws, and the scream of the mill whistle and for Lannie. Oh, for -one hour in the tangled forest with strong, brave Lannie would have paid -me for all the suffering which I had to bear. - -“At last the day arrived when Lannie’s reckoning proved correct; my -father and Mr. Penway came to visit me at school; they quickly told me -what the plans were, and for me to go on with a repetition of the details -would only bore you. Mr. Penway made love to me in a manner that I then -supposed was perfectly correct, but I have since been led to believe -that his manner courtship was stereotyped, but it made no difference. I -was the price of a home and a fortune, I saw it all; if I refused, my -father’s years of labor would be lost, and he would be penniless and my -mother homeless. I felt as though children were brought into the world -much the same as horses, cattle and hogs, that a fixed sum might be -realized on them. - -“We were married in a hotel in St. Louis. All of the luxuries were -supplied, gowns of rarest and most exquisite texture, and as I rudely -told one of my bridesmaids, every article was there which is needed at a -first class funeral except the casket and hearse. - -“Music, ushers with stately tread, presents and flowers, great clusters -of potted plants, waving ferns, roses, pure white lilies, narcissus, -orange blossoms, loads of each, in full view; yes, and wrapped in a -bit of white silk, nestled inside my clothing next to my heart, were a -handful of withered wild flowers, which during four years had kept fresh -in my memory. - -“We went to Europe, spent the winter in sunny Italy. At times I did -imagine I was happy, then the ghost of something, I knew not what, arose -before me and all I could see was a contract, wherein so many dollars -in hand paid, had been exchanged for a human form, which was so like -ice that the purchaser could only gaze on his possession with a feeling -that he, at least, got it first hand, without it ever having been placed -on the bargain counter. I had no conception of what married life was, -and I fear my husband was a poor teacher. Many fine pictures and rare -ornaments found their way into the great pile of treasures and relics -which we gathered with no thought of cost. Mr. Penway was a connoisseur, -but not a lover. He was proud of me. I was introduced to many of the -noble families; I was catered to by those whose station in life was -apparently so far above me that I shuddered when I thought of a saw mill. -We returned from our trip abroad, only to be ushered into a house of -magnificence; that is, so far as grandeur was concerned. Servants to do -my bidding, carriages at my command; all, everything that money could -buy, but not one bit of love; not a word of that soul sustaining love. - -“One year of this, and Mr. Penway was called to Europe again, this time -on business. I had been in regular correspondence with my parents, and -they insisted on my coming home for a visit during Mr. Penway’s sojourn -abroad. I went and for the first time in nearly six years met Lannie. -My first impulse was to throw myself into his arms, regardless of the -presence of my parents, but I managed to control myself. However, during -my stay there, I naturally roamed in the woods, through the mills; in -that way saw much of Lannie. Dear old Lannie. With the same clock-like -regularity he performed his duties; the same broad shoulders and the -same tender blue eyes. If time had wrought changes in him, it was for -the better. He seemed so mature with the full soft beard that covered -his face. His words were all uttered in kindness. I asked my parents -about him, and they told me how he had applied himself to my father’s -interests, not losing a day from the confining duties of business and -labor; in fact, he was the mainstay. If the head sawyer was sick or off -duty, Lannie laid the master hand on the lever and the saws and the -dust flew as the lumber piles grew higher and higher. If the engineer -or fireman was absent, it was Lannie’s touch that put the machinery -in motion, and his willing hands that heaved the great slabs into the -furnace to make the steam. If any of the little colony were sick and -needed attention, it was Lannie who kept the lonely vigil through the -dark and solemn hours of blackest night, and when morning came he, mighty -as the sun, shone all day, beaming with good nature; and when (as was -often the case) the fever so prevalent in the swamps claimed a victim, it -was Lannie’s gentle hands that folded the arms across the quiet breast -and closed the staring eyes. It was his soothing, reassuring words which -brought comfort to the poor mother whose heart bled in sorrow for her -darling child; it was Lannie who would put his great, strong arms around -the father and husband, as the clods fell with that sickening thud on -the rough box that contained all that was left of the dearest treasure -they had ever known; again, it was Lannie who took into his arms the -fatherless children and told them that the father of all was God. In -this way Lannie had lived, pouring out the generous love of his great -warm nature, while I—Ugh! I shudder to think of it. I had been encased -in a sheet of ice trying to freeze my emotion, trying to smother my -heart throbs, lest, like some wild beast which in search of freedom and -prey, plunges through the iron bars of its cage, it would bound through -my breast, tearing and breaking the cords and crushing the coat of mail -beyond repair. - -“Is it any wonder that that very thing occurred? Are you surprised to -learn that my poor, heavy, tugging heart was torn by force from the -delicate tendrils and with one wild plunge left the enclosure which it -had so long occupied? With a suddenness born of despair, I packed and -left, no one knew why, and I was too proud and self-reliant to tell. - -“I arrived home only to undergo days of torture and nights of sobbing -misery. In about a week after my arrival I had a letter from my mother -saying that Lannie was going to leave them. He had, by his frugal -methods, saved a tidy sum, and, true to the teachings of the lumber camp, -had invested in a tract of land, which at the time of purchase was almost -valueless, but recently a railroad had been surveyed and was now being -built through his broad acres, and Lannie was a rich man. He was coming -to Chicago to buy machinery and set up in business of his own, and of -course Lannie had been so good and nice always that he seemed just like -one of the family, and if it was not too much trouble and embarrassment -to have a countryman around, it would be nice for me to ask Lannie to -spend a part of the time during his stay in the city at my house, etc. - -“Oh, joys of Heaven and earth! Lannie here, and in my house. Oh, Lannie, -Lannie! We can be all alone—with that thought some horrible, creeping -feeling seized me and I was soon dripping with cold perspiration. Horrors -upon horrors! No—no, I could never do that. The fury of Hell would be -visited upon me, just as sure as that temptation was put before me. What -could I do? For the first time since I was married I prayed. I asked God -to give me strength of mind and body to direct me as I should go. After -that I grew calmer, called my maid, instructed her to write my mother and -tell her that I had concluded to sail for Liverpool and join Mr. Penway. -Then we hurriedly began to pack. To get away—get away, run, fly, anything -to escape that which was bound to overtake me if I stayed, was the only -thought of my mind. - -“Luncheon was served early. The train for New York left at three p.m. -I would have time to send a cablegram to Mr. Penway, buy a few little -trifles and then as fast as steam could carry me I would go from the gulf -which seemed about to swallow me. - -“I had just left the dining room, as the bell rang. The butler announced -a gentleman. I felt a pallor spread from my face to my neck; my breast -felt clammy; the flesh on my arms seemed to crawl; my usually plump hand -looked pale and thin, as I tremblingly took the card. My voice frightened -me as I said ‘Not in’ to the waiting statue of ebony, at the same time -tossing the little card onto a table without looking at it. It went short -of the mark and as it fluttered to the floor turned over, my eyes were -fastened on the name, ‘Landrie Grayson.’ - -“Fever drove away the chill which had almost overcome me. No, no! I could -not do it! It was just as impossible for me to turn Lannie away then as -it is now to bring him back. With a bound, I was in the hall; the next -leap put me alongside the stately, marching figure in livery; a dash and -I was pulling and tugging at the great door, then I looked into those -honest eyes of blue. - -“‘I thought I would call on you, Ailene,’ said Lannie, as we entered the -drawing room. - -“‘Yes, Lannie, it was so good of you to come; and now, Lannie, you must -be hungry. It is high noon, as you used to say,’ and without further ado -I rang and ordered dinner served at once, for I knew that the people at -home always had twelve o’clock dinner. That dinner was the best I ever -tasted in my life. How I changed in a few moments from a dull, heavy -hearted creature of nervous misery, back to the old happy stage of -girlhood. We had dinner, and I did not send my baggage away. - -“When Lannie explained to me that he was stopping at a hotel, I said: -‘Lannie, you cannot stay at a hotel in Chicago; you must make this your -home.’ - -“‘No, Ailene, I will be busy, and could not think of putting you to any -inconvenience.’ - -“‘But, Lannie, please do stay here. I am⸺’ I did not finish my sentence. -I don’t think Lannie knew what I was about to utter. If he did know that -I was on the point of telling him that I was alone, he paid no attention -to it. Again that nightmare overcame me; I was speechless. Lannie thought -I was hurt or offended because he refused my hospitality. - -“‘I’ll tell you what I’ll do, Ailene,’ he said. ‘We will go to some -theater tonight. I will spend tomorrow evening here with you and then we -will plan for the other days that I am to remain in the city.’ - -“In spite of the fact that some of my dearest friends and members of the -same social circle in which I moved attended the play that night and -indulged in not a little whispering and smiling as they turned their -eyes on us, I was proud. If Lannie did appear a little out of place, he -was dear, true Lannie, just the same. The spirit which I knew to be -encased in that noble character made up for all deficiencies in dress -and manners. Each act was well received by the vast audience. As for me, -the most interesting time of the performance was between acts, for it -was then I could talk to Lannie and hear his voice. I saw little of the -actors, for I was busy feasting my eyes on my companion. I studied his -eyes, his face, and his feelings as he drank in the scenes which were -enacted to the strains of music. That night my dreams were fraught with -visions of strong men, happy children and contented women. - -“The next day dragged slowly enough, but at last, with happy delight, -I welcomed the hour of Lannie’s coming. We dined, I played and sang, -Lannie told me of all the things that had transpired since I had left -the forest. At eleven o’clock Lannie arose to go, all too soon for me. I -begged him to stay; I laid my hand on his arm and looking straight into -his strong, clear face, said: ‘Lannie, oh, Lannie, don’t you know that I -love you? Can’t you see that I am dying to be taken into your arms and -receive that strong yet tender embrace which I know awaits the woman you -love?’ - -“Poor Lannie! He was dumfounded; he was white as death; not a muscle -moved, not a word from those firm set lips; just a tender, pleading look -from the eyes which I loved so well. - -“‘Lannie, speak to me,’ I cried. ‘Oh, dearest, give me some relief, say -some kind word to me or I shall surely die.’ I threw myself into his -arms. I pulled him down onto the divan and clung to him as though my -life depended upon it. Oh, the emotion of the soul! I sometimes think -that if the world knew what a woman must suffer at such times, it would -not be so unkind. I was wild, and when Lannie freed his hands from my -passionate clutch and tenderly lifted me from my knees to a position -beside him, my joy knew no bounds. Oh, to think that he had once again -taken me in his arms. Having gotten me to a position which seemed to -please him, he put his dear face to mine and kissed me. The flight -of time has never erased the memory of that thrill. Love, devotion, -strength, happiness, all, all I say, went surging through me like an -avalanche. ‘More, more, Lannie,’ I cried, and forgot all suffering as -I, in my reclining position, could see the shadow of his great form as -he bent over me again. I felt his burning lips on my brow, my cheek, my -lips twitched in their feverish desire to be blessed with that lingering -caress which is so soothing, yet so maddening. I think I must have -fainted, for when I opened my eyes, Lannie was gone. - -“Next day I received a note from him saying good-bye, and that he would -not call again. A tigress is not easily held at bay. My blood was -aroused; my soul was fired. The lava was molten in the volcano and must -find its way through the crest, no matter how many souls perished in the -flood of fire. I was wild, methodically wild, and so determined was I in -my purpose that I wrote him a note saying: - - “‘_Dear Lannie_: - - “‘This leaves me sick abed; please come to me. Oh, Lannie, do; - I need you so much. - - “‘YOUR OWN AILENE.’ - -“I went to my room, had my maid dress my hair carefully, then retired. -Moments seemed as hours; hours as days. I was feverish and delirious. -My maid insisted on calling a physician, but I would not hear to it. I -gave orders to be left alone. The breeze fanned the lace curtains at -the windows in a merry ripple; the soft mellow light of the setting sun -shed a glow of golden hue throughout the room. My temples throbbed, my -pulse fluttered, my eyes burned, as I bravely battled to kill time. -Then the thought: What if he should not come? Cold sweat took the place -of parching fever, and so I passed the early evening, going from one -paroxysm to another. At last the bell rang, then that voice as I heard -Lannie say, ‘Thank you,’ to the maid as she opened the door. My clean -white gown was badly rumpled, my well dressed hair was in a confusion of -disorder from the feverish tossing of the day, but I forgot all that; I -forgot my appearances, feelings, manners, everything, only that Lannie -was with me again. As he bent over my bed with anxious questions, I was -quite happy. Suddenly reaching out my arms, I clasped them around his -neck. Oh, the holy emotions, the rage of my love knew no master. I clung -to him; he tried to free himself, but no, no! I would rather have died -than give him up. Great, strong Lannie of Herculean strength, one who -could have held a horse, or felled an ox by a blow of his strong right -arm; one who could withstand the ravages of pestilence and disease; one -on whom weak men looked with that feeling of admiration born of awe; one -whose strength, broad judgment, and kindly temperament made him easily -the master of any and all situations. But with all his bravery and -fortitude, all his battles, all his years of duration, he had never been -called upon to wage war upon a woman whose soul was starving for the -loving caress, which is so dear to a lonely heart. He was as wax in my -hands, as I clutched him fiercely yet fondly. ‘Oh, Lannie, Lannie! say -that you love me,’ I cried, all the time raining kisses on his dear face, -while he acquiesced in mute silence. With his eyes dilated, his nostrils -distended, his lips drawn and white, he fought the silent battle which -led to his defeat. In his years of physical building he had never been -called upon to withstand the onslaught which I now brought to bear upon -him; he had never been drilled in the tactics necessary to repel the -attacks of passion. I could see my victory coming; the light of his eyes -told me that the world was fast melting away. Then suddenly he clasped me -to his dear self, saying, ‘Oh, Ailene, what is it? Why can I not go away -from you? Yes, little girl, I love you, I love you.’ - -“‘Kiss me, Lannie. There, dear; yes, that is right, Lannie! Hold me in -your arms. Now, dearest, we are happy.’ - -“Then, while tears of joy dimmed my eyes, in the madness of passion, my -future was molded. As the poisonous little reptile stings the lion, who -is king of the forest, and causes him to writhe in death’s agony, so -did the lecherous fangs of passion fasten themselves into poor Lannie’s -pure, white soul, sending the venomous poison into a heretofore healthful -system. - -“If I could but live that hour over again. If I erred the sin was -tempered with love. - - “I know, in the way that sins are reckoned, - This thought is a sin of the deepest dye; - But, I know, too, if an angel beckoned, - Standing close by the throne on high, - And you a-down by the gates infernal, - Should open your loving arms and smile, - I would turn my back on things supernal, - To lie on your breast a little while, - To know for an hour you were mine completely. - Mine in body and soul, my own— - I would bear unending tortures sweetly, - With not a murmur and not a moan.” - - —_Wilcox._ - -“Lannie went away. Our parting was like the clinging vine being torn from -the stone wall. In ten weeks my husband arrived home. Ten days later he -was the victim of a railroad accident and I was left a widow. I waited -and longed for the love of my life, to take his place beside me, but -Lannie did not come. At last, in sheer desperation, I wrote him. This was -his answer: - - “‘_Dear Friend_: - - “‘I am pained to write you as I shall, but you cannot expect me - to come to you. You know my ideas of purity so well, that I am - surprised to be asked to call. I do love you, always have, and - shall continue to do so, but I fear the sweetness of our love - has been blighted by the madness of folly. This little verse is - very expressive, I think: - - “A flower I feign would pluck today, - From the garden above her dust, - Not the pure, white lily of soulless sin, - Nor the blood-red rose of lust, - But the blossom of holy love.” - - “‘I shall always be interested in your welfare and shall ever - seek to do you good. Yours devotedly, - - “‘LANNIE.’ - -“The blow was cruel, but ‘As a man soweth, so shall he also reap.’ The -same applies to women. - -“The next important event of my life was the announcement of the -insolvency of my husband’s estate. He had died leaving me penniless; even -the holdings my father had placed with him as security for his loan were -swept away into the chasm with the other unrecoverable assets.” - -“But you live well.” - -“Yes; that is all on account of Lannie. He seemed to know the condition -of Mr. Penway’s finances, and it was a tract of land that Mr. Penway -was forced to sell that Lannie bought. He built mills, homes for the -men, a comfortable home for my parents on his land, and when the crash -came, transferred them to it. Then he came to the city and arranged with -an attorney that I should have an annuity and I must accept it, the -conditions being that if I refused my mother and father would be asked to -relinquish their home. He bought this house, he pays the bills and I dare -not refuse until my parents have gone to their home above.” - - “Not quite the same am I. My inner being - Reasons and knows that all is for the best. - Yet vague regrets stir always in my breast, - As my soul’s eyes turn sadly backward, seeing - The vanished self that evermore must be - This side of what we call eternity, - Not quite the same.” - - - - -TALE THREE. - -A STORY OF THE CHICAGO GHETTO. - -PUNISHMENT. - - “Nor custom, nor example, nor vast numbers - Of such as do offend, make less the sin; - For each particular crime a strict account - Will be exacted; and that comfort, which - The damn’d pretend, follows in misery, - Takes nothing from their torments; every one - Must suffer in himself the measure of his wickedness.” - - —_Massinger._ - - -The wind howled, then carrying with it bits of paper, flurries of snow -and great quantities of smoke and soot, it seemed to sink into the -darkness with a dismal moan, which resembled the wailing of some great -wild beast in search of its mate. - -Shops with their dim lights, which looked like tiny sparks clinging -to a black wall, lined the street; tin signs creaked and crashed like -miniature thunder; small pieces of shutters flopped against the sides of -the weather beaten houses, only to swing into the breeze with each fresh -gust, there to quiver on their rusty hinges until a weird, screeching, -grating sound denoted that age and elements were victors and one more -piece of some antiquated structure had cast anchor and would soon be used -to infuse warmth into the body of some poor, unfortunate dweller in the -immediate vicinity. The uncertainty of the board walks in this locality -caused the pedestrian, whose lot it was to venture here for the first -time, to use great care in setting down and picking up his feet. - -Half-clad children were there; some with small and precious packages -of edibles clutched tightly in their begrimed and reddened hands, some -laboring with a plank, which on account of the frozen slush that stuck to -it, made it twice their weight; some fighting and sprawling in the filth -of the narrow street for the possession of a two-pound lump of coal, that -had been jostled from a wagon, while many of them clung tenaciously to -the threadbare, misfit garments in which they were clad, with an apparent -fear that the wind would use the tattered rags in whipping them to death. -The flickering rays of the few and irregular gas lamps which the city had -placed at long intervals, did not add cheer to the locality; they only -made it more possible for a stranger to realize to a greater extent the -squalor which existed there. - -Such is a poorly drawn picture of the Ghetto of Chicago. - -When compared to the commodious home on the lake front, with its coils of -pipes conducting steam into every nook and corner, making even the cellar -a place of comfort, the rich rugs, the substantial furnishing of oak and -mahogany, the bright lights, the dear little mother, the happy children, -the music, pictures and flowers, the well filled larder and comfortable -clothing we all enjoy, it is inclined to cause one to forget to complain. - -It was no pleasant task, but it was a duty. I have set out to tell the -life story of twenty different women, and to get these stories from the -lips of the principals, it behooves me to appear to them in person, even -though at times I am compelled to freeze myself against all humanity; -and, again, so stirred with pity and aroused with sympathy, that I have -frequently come away from hovels with just enough change in my pockets -for car fare home. - -This night, after searching for blocks and burning many matches in a vain -endeavor to find the number which I had been given, I was led to the -point of my investigation by an old man, who was on his way home from his -day’s begging and peddling. He was a kindly Hebrew. “Dis is de blace,” -said he, with an instinctive stretching out of the right hand, palm -upward. “Bud, meester, I don’t tink dey vill be ad home,” he added, as I -laid a half dollar in the still outstretched hand. - -“Ah, oh vait! I vill see for you.” - -With that he shambled around the side of the tumble-down house, while I -stamped my feet on the frozen cinders to keep up circulation, all the -time thinking the old man was correct, for there was no sign of life -anywhere about the house. Finally he came back. - -“Yes, dey vas dere, but you see, meester, Saturday nights iss a bat time -to found ’em home.” - -“Why?” - -“Oh, it iss a goot time to find tings; so many grocery wagons on de -streets und der vas some stores vat gif de peebles de rotten cabbages, -und abbles und lots of vilted tings. You see, meester, we haf a hard time -to eat.” - -The old man was an artist. His eyes shone with that everlasting thrift -so characteristic of his race, and somehow I could not get away without -handing him another quarter. Then, receiving his instructions as to -getting into the house, I took up that part of my labor. I managed to -keep myself separated from the piles of ashes and tin cans until I -reached a rear door. The house was on the corner and was a basement -affair, the first part being brick up to the level of the street, from -that on up to the top it was frame. The house had been built before the -street was filled in, so that when that operation took place one side and -one end of the brick wall, being the parts of the house that were exposed -to the street, had become submerged in a mixture of old bricks, pieces of -bottles, mud and other rubbish that was from time to time scraped off the -business portion of the street. - -It was difficult to distinguish my hard and vigorous rapping from the -violent rattle of the door. Finally I heard a sound as though something -was being dragged across the floor, then the door was pulled half way -open and I was asked to enter. - -A tin lamp with a badly smoked chimney (or rather part of a chimney, -for a large hole in the side represented nearly one-third of the -surface) caused flickering, gloomy shadows to move about the room; a -rough pine box with shelves served for a cupboard, in which there were -a few battered tin pans, some broken handled knives and bent forks; a -pile of straw in the corner, with some soiled remnants of blankets and -quilts served for a bed. The warmth of the room was furnished by a badly -broken cook stove; pieces of wood and coal mixed, laid on the grate, -while in the oven and on the top of the stove were frozen chunks of -mud with small pieces of coal all through them; wood covered with snow -and ice, which had been put there to thaw out, so as to be usable; the -formation of the sizzling steam as the water ran from this store of -fuel did nothing to add a pleasant odor to that which arose from the -conglomeration of filth which had been gathered from street and alley and -was being roasted until it should give up bits of coal, which were as -rare and precious to the half frozen inmates of this hole in the ground, -as the bright shining metal is to the gold miner as he sees his piles of -quartz crushed in the process of separation. - -“Is this Mrs. Densmore?” I asked, as I shook the snow from my long ulster. - -“No, this ain’t Mis Dinsmore,” growled the voice of the woman who stood -in front of me. - -“I am sorry,” said I, “for I wanted to find her very much.” - -“Well, I guess you won’t find her.” - -“Can you tell me where she is?” - -“No, an’ if I could I wouldn’t. What do you want of her, anyway? Hain’t -she had enough trouble, without some new thing bobbin’ up?” - -“I fear you misunderstand me; I want to see her for her own good.” - -“Yes, I s’pose so. I know what you want and you won’t git her, neither. -She’s all I got, an’ she loves me, if I am pore and miserable.” - -I expressed my surprise at her remarks and followed up with the assurance -that I knew she was the object of my search, but I said: - -“If you will tell me where I can get something to eat, I will first -satisfy the inner man, then I want to have a long talk with you.” - -“My Lord, man, you don’t spect to find nothin’ to eat here, do you? Fer -if you do, sir, you’re much mistaken. In the first place this hain’t no -hotel nor ‘caffey.’ Why, we hain’t had a square meal in three months; -fact; not sence her monkey died.” - -“Whose monkey? Who is ‘her’?” - -“Oh, that’s it, eh? Well, I guess you know.” - -“No, indeed, I don’t know what you mean, but if you will tell me where to -find something fit for a man to take into his stomach, I will go and eat -and bring you something.” - -“Oh, will you? Well, jes’ go to the next corner south, turn to the -left and you will find ‘Peggy Pete’s’ place; I guess you can git about -anything you want.” - -Following her directions, I soon found myself in a shop where every -conceivable thing that a man could think of, was kept for sale. -A stenciled bill of fare occupied a conspicuous place above the -oilcloth covered lunch counter, telling in detail what was ready to -serve; everything from tripe, all along, including such delicacies as -pickled pig’s feet, fried liver, wienerwursts and winding up with the -announcement that hot soup could be obtained at ten cents per gallon. - -The proprietor was a one-eyed, one-legged man of fat and greasy -proportions and when I ordered a pound of ham, three loaves of bread, a -pound of butter, a dozen eggs, some coffee, and finished by calling for -cream, he looked at me in a way that surely strained his one organ of -vision. - -“Goin’ to eat it here?” he asked, as he limped around selecting the -articles as I ordered them. - -“No, I will take them along.” At this information he shot a quick -gleaming look at me, then hastily grabbing the packages off the counter, -laid them back on the shelf safely out of my reach, as he said, “Anything -else?” - -“Yes, I want you to make me a gallon of soup, good oyster soup, and put -lots of oysters in it.” - -“Now look here, feller, you needn’t git smart,” said the robust and -reddened merchant. - -Then, as he pointed to the sign, he added: “That means shank soup. You -can’t come no shenanigan on me; if you want oyster soup, yew can have it, -but it will cost yer fifty cents per gal.” - -“All right; I want it.” - -A wait of twenty minutes and the soup was ready. - -“Now, let me have some crackers, and how much do I owe you?” said I, as I -slowly counted a few pieces of silver which I drew from my pocket. - -“A dollar forty,” said the man, as he reached out for the money with one -hand, while the other rested affectionately on the little pile of bundles -as they lay beside the gallon apple can into which he had poured the soup. - -“Come in again,” said he, as he saw me start to leave after putting six -silver quarters into his hand and not waiting for change. Then a thought -struck me. - -“Have you any lamp chimneys?” - -“Yes, good ones, too; fifteen, or two for a quarter.” - -“Give me two,” said I. - -“Guess your jist settin’ up housekeepin’, ain’t yer?” said Pete, as he -hobbled ahead of me to open the door. Having noticed the landmarks, I -found my way back without difficulty. If I lied when I told the woman -that I had lunched at “Peggy Pete’s” it was my own lie and I will suffer -for it. - -My first move was to place one of the glass cylinders on the lamp. The -improvement in the light added a cheeriness, which was partly in keeping -with the steaming oyster soup. With the better light I was able to obtain -a more distinct view of the woman. - -Tall, dark and gaunt, her claw-like hands jerked nervously as she hastily -unwrapped the packages. Her hair was black as a raven’s wing; her high -forehead showed unmistakable signs of intelligence; the rest of her face, -save the little piercing black eyes, which now and then flashed with joy -and hunger, was horribly misshapen; a huge scar, as from a burn, covered -one whole side of her face, while the other was so badly distorted by -something of the same nature, which drew her mouth down and back so far -on one side, that her molars were plainly visible. She was devoid of -eyelashes and her brows only remained in spots. Yet, in spite of her -surroundings, her uncouth language, her privations and want, a kindly -light shone out of those eyes of ebony, as she said: - -“Man, I believe you’re all right; anyways you know about what a hungry -one wants. This seems like old times,” she added, as she unrolled the -generous slices of ham. - -No persuasion was needed to induce her to eat and I fully enjoyed the -spectacle. The feast added much amiability to her versatile nature. - -Finally she said: “Lord, I wisht the kid was here.” - -“Who is the kid, tell me,” I said. - -“Maybe I will, sometime, but tell me, what did you want of Mrs. Densmore?” - -“I want you to tell me all about yourself.” - -“And honor bright, now, it ain’t the kid ye want?” - -“No, bless me, no; I don’t want anybody’s kid.” - -“Well, you see, it was this way: I married young, married a man who -was as handsome as he was mean. I was considered a beautiful girl and -he thought he loved me, but he was so jealous that he was miserable. -We lived happy for two years. I may as well say right here that I had -a sister who was a beautiful blonde, and I being dark we were a great -contrast. I loved my sister so devotedly that when we discovered that -sooner or later I would become a mother we asked her to come and live -with us. She had a friend who called frequently, a perfect gentleman, but -my husband grew so jealous and finally became so enraged that he drove -him from the house. Then my sister left. The rest of the time, up to the -birth of my child, I spent in tears. I was almost killed to think my -husband would be so brutal and so ill treat my dear sister. - -“At last the little fairy came, and with her came more suffering and -misery for me. My husband flew into a vicious rage, for my baby was a -blonde, as perfect as an angel. My husband was neither light nor dark. -My sister’s friend was light. My husband charged me with infidelity, -disowned the child, and one day in a fit of anger, he threw her from me -hurling her against a red hot stove. The burn caused a scar on her little -back, which she carries to this day.” - -Great tears rolled down the scarred face and splashed on those long talon -shaped fingers. Then, with a shiver, she continued: - -“The Bible says something about, if one marries a man to stick to him. My -people all tried to get me to leave him, but woman-like I left them and -my baby. I proposed to go where no one knew us and begin life over. He -said if I would leave the ‘brat,’ he would go. - -“We came to Chicago, but the same bitter feeling still existed in him. -The evil mind brooded and the heart became affected until our lives were -the lives of beasts. He lost one position after another. He began to -drink and beat me terribly. Oh, sir, I would have stood all that, if he -had only loved me. I would have willingly starved for bread if my heart -could have had one morsel on which it might be sustained. - -“Finally we took a large house and began to take roomers. We did well -for a while; then things began to go wrong and he suggested that we rent -rooms to people for immoral purposes. My soul revolted against it, sir; -indeed it did, but I consented! Oh, sir, many’s the time I’ve cried when -I would see some sweet faced girl come to our house, for, sir, I could -not help thinking that some day my baby would grow up and she might -become the prey of some vulture.” - -As she progressed with her narrative she dropped the uncouth language of -the locality in which she lived. The hot soup and the light, together -with the living over the better times, seemed to have taken her out of -herself for the time being. - -“My husband drifted from one bad crowd of associates to another. At last -he was arrested and convicted of stealing and was sentenced to the -penitentiary. The disgrace which this brought upon me was so terrible -that it overwhelmed me. I lost all respect for everything and everybody. -I removed from the semi-respectable district into the more notorious and -better advertised portion of the city, and became the landlady of one -of the most notorious resorts of the day. I made many friends among the -class into which this life had thrown me. I developed into a woman of -beauty. I had fine clothes and precious gems; money came easily and was -spent with a lavish hand. Still I maintained a business presence of mind -which gained for my house a reputation of good order. One of the inmates -of my place was a beautiful blonde. She was proud and set herself up as -being the most bewitching woman in Chicago. She had a dear friend, a very -wealthy man, who called on her with great regularity. One night, in a -jest, he put his arm around me and remarked that he was tired of blondes, -anyway. All the fury that God allowed one woman to possess, arose in that -blonde when he said that. She swore and tore and raved like one possessed -of demons. After that she and I quarreled often. I would not have taken -her lover. I did not like him, but I could not get her to understand. It -all ended by her forcing her friend to take a magnificent house next door -to mine. It was lavishly furnished and I soon had a rival in business -that made that quarter of Chicago more famous than ever. - -“One day I met her admirer on the street, the first time I had ever -talked with him since the gun was fired which had kept me in an incessant -battle. He told me many things that she had said of me, which, in -addition to the insults she had heretofore heaped upon me, made me boil. - -“Eighteen years had passed since my heart had been transformed from the -organ of anticipation to the soul of a young mother, and a woman can -grow very hard in that time; she can nerve herself to do anything at -anyone’s cost, in order to crush a rival. I forgot all the goodness I had -ever known. I did not want this man myself, but I wanted to sting his -inamorata so as to cause her the most intense pain and mortification. I -proposed to him that if he would abandon this woman I would get him a -nice young girl. - -“‘Agreed,’ said he, ‘I will do that and it won’t be long till you’ll have -the business of the block all your way again, for when I turn the ‘old -girl’ down, the whole gang will quit her house.’ - -“With thoughts of revenge and the anticipation of an increased bank -account, I began the search for a candidate for the position of mistress -to my enemy’s friend. It did not take me long. I was on the train one -day, when I met a young girl, beautiful, graceful, fresh, but sad. My -practical eye soon sized up the situation and I made friends with her. -She explained to me that she was coming to Chicago to seek a position. -Then, slowly, but as surely as the snake coils itself around the -helpless, bleating kid, so did I spin my web of Hell around her. ‘Now,’ I -said, after I had made all arrangements, ‘I don’t want to know your real -name, for I don’t like to lie if anyone should ask for you.’ - -“Ha, ha! Only think of it, sir! I was too good to lie!” - -The wild glitter of the black eyes made me think of a snake, as the woman -writhed and twisted and uttered her maniacal screeches. - -“Well, I brought her in, as the saying goes. I took her to the -dressmaker’s and in a week’s time she was ready to show. I notified the -man. That night the scenes of revelry and debauchery outdid all former -efforts. Men and women sang and danced, wine flowed and money was spent -in the most reckless manner. The little girl easily outclassed all -others. The wine soon caused her to cast aside her modesty, which was -a part of her, and she was the merriest one of the lot. It was three -o’clock when I assisted the man to undress her and put her into the -best bed in the house, then I left for my own room. Night after night -these scenes followed. Great was my glee when a carriage would come down -the street and boldly drive up to the door. I was so delighted that I -became bold and proceeded to return some of my now unpopular neighbor’s -taunts and jeers. It was no uncommon thing for men to bring strange -women to my place, so I was not surprised when, one evening about nine -o’clock, I saw a veiled woman alight from a carriage and come to my -door. The maid announced, ‘A lady to see you, madame.’ I went forward, -and just as I pulled the door open a hand shot out from under the long -cape and I felt a blinding, burning sensation spread over my face. I -ran inside. Everything that was convenient was applied, and when the -doctor came he told me it was acid. That is how I got the scars. I went -to the hospital. The little girl came to see me daily. She spent as -much time with me as the nurses would allow and in that way we became -deeply attached to each other. I put her in charge of my affairs, and by -her sweet ways she won the esteem and admiration of all the girls. We -had little trouble in tracing the acid thrower. Next morning after it -occurred my unfriendly neighbor was found dead in her room. A note pinned -to her pillow told all. She had done me, then drank poison. - -“I recovered; that is, so far as you can see, but I was too badly -disfigured for publicity, so I left my entire place in the hands of the -little girl and opened a home for women during confinement. - -“Things ran on this way for two years. I had many bright but wayward -girls in my care during that time. The little girl’s visits were less -frequent to me and I had not seen her for months, when she came to me one -day and told me she was to become a mother. I took her in, of course, and -the former resort was rented. The time arrived for her expected illness. -The baby was a bright girl. The little mother hung between life and death -for days. She, in her delirium, roamed everywhere, called many by name, -and spoke of places she had known. One day during her ravings I attempted -to arrange her bed more comfortably, and in order to do so was compelled -to turn her over. I discovered that her back and shoulders were covered -with a rash. I thought a tepid bath would be just the thing, so I slipped -her gown down and laid bare her back. I saw a scar. Believe me or not, -mister, that acid felt cooling on my face compared to the pain which now -fired me within and without. My daughter! I was able to be up and around -the house when she regained her senses. She asked for her baby. I don’t -know why, but I lied to her. I was not too good to lie this time.” - -The gurgle which emitted from the woman’s throat at this juncture was a -poor excuse for a laugh. - -“Yes, I lied; I told her it had died; and to think it was then in the -nursery with several others, and the jolliest, cunningest one of the lot! - -“The little mother got well and strong and she got a good position and a -man, a real man, fell heels over head in love with her, and now they are -married. Now she has three sweet children.” - -“Do you ever see your daughter?” - -At this question the small black eyes snapped, and the haggard woman -started. - -“Don’t say that, mister, please; ’cause nobody knows. - -“Yes, I see her twice a week. She has a beautiful home and for the sake -of old times she has me come and clean her room twice a week. She says -I do it so much better than her regular servants. Oh, mister, you don’t -know how long and faithful I work in that room.” - -“And the other little girl; her first baby?” - -“Oh, the kid?” - -“Yes.” - -“Well, you see, I’m trying to raise her right, for now you see I know -right from wrong. She is nearly ten. A year ago a drunken man came down -here and brought a monkey. He mistreated it so that it bit him and broke -away. It ran to the kid and nothing could get it to leave, so the man -told her to keep it, and he took rather a fancy to her in his drunken way -and took her up town and bought her an organ. From that on we lived real -well, but during the first cold snap the fire went out one night and when -we got up ‘Pranks’ was froze to death. Since then she has begged a ‘right -smart.’” - -“Does she ever see her mother?” - -“Sometimes; not often, though, mister. I took her with me onct jes’ after -the coal oil man’s little girl died and his wife give me all her clothes, -’cause she said I’d been there and helped so much. So I kind a dressed -the little one up and took her over, and while I worked she played with -her—I mean with the other children, and when I got ready to start home I -like to never got her to come. She cried most all night, so I don’t take -her no more, but she’s gone over there now. I was over there today and -done the cleaning and the ‘lady’ (that’s what I always call her) said if -I would send the little one over she would give her a suit or two of her -older girl’s underclothes. You see her girl’s younger than the kid, but -she’s fatter, so I guess they’ll fit. Lord, I wish she’d come, mister, -for now I’ve told you all and you’ll be goin’ and it’ll be awful lonesome -here.” - -“I will wait until she comes, if you don’t object.” - -“No, I will be glad, and I guess I’d better put this soup on and warm it, -for she’ll be cold and hungry.” - -A few moments and a rattle at the door announced the “kid’s” coming. -She was a sweet-faced child, but the beauty which would have been -visible under favorable circumstances was marred by the pinched, drawn -expression which always attends want. Without ado, or bashfulness, she -unrolled a bundle, shouting, “Look Granny, two for you and two for me. -The lady had some of her own that was too big and she said you could have -’em.” - -And there, under the rays of light shed from the tin lamp, I saw articles -of silk underwear with a monogram on the waistband, the same which -adorned an invitation to a party for one night next week, which I had -received that morning and now carried in my pocket. - - - - -TALE FOUR. - -A WOMAN OF THIRTY-EIGHT. - - “Look at his pretty face for just one minute! - His braided frock and dainty buttoned shoes; - His firm shut hand, the favorite plaything in it— - Then tell me, mothers, was’t not hard to lose - And miss him from my side— - My little boy that died? - - “How many another boy, as dear and charming, - His father’s hope, his mother’s one delight, - Slips through strange sicknesses, all fear disarming, - And lives a long, long life in parent’s sight! - Mine was so short a pride! - And then—my poor boy died.” - - -“Perhaps if he had lived,” she said, as she handed me a little tintype -of a round-faced baby, whose laughing face was surrounded by ringlets of -hair which looked as though they might have been silk. - -“Perhaps,” she repeated in a dreamy way, “it might have been different.” - -She was a woman of thirty-eight. She did not look it when I was first -admitted to her apartments. She then appeared to be a very demure little -housewife of ten years less. It was in the afternoon and she was suitably -attired to receive callers, and had she not been, I am of the opinion -that she would have bowed graciously to the inevitable, and received me -just the same, for she was one of those matter-of-fact souls who do not -allow formality to interfere with pleasure. Not that she would appear -in a soiled dressing sacque, or an old skirt which bore evidence of the -various strains, neither would she be guilty of coming to the front with -ragged shoes on those dainty feet; but to make a long story short, she -was too considerate of a man’s “fussy feeling” to keep him waiting an -hour or more while she labored before the mirror trying to obliterate the -traces of time and increase the beauty of form. - -Ethel Manning had been and still was more comely than many women in more -favorable circumstances. She was not so tall that she was striking, but -the willowness of her figure seemed to add power to the face on which -every thought was plainly visible before she allowed the red curve, -commonly called mouth, to open in utterance. She spoke slowly, and -as each word fell on one’s ear the evidence of the voice having been -cultivated became more convincing. Her deep violet eyes were luminous and -seemed to grow darker with the earnestness of her sentiment. Her chin was -a trifle short, however one would at once decide that it was made that -way to correspond with the nose, which, to one critically inclined, might -seem to be abbreviated to a certain extent. All in all, she was one of -those people who are all life and activity, yet possessed with the gift -of discreet executive ability. If she had lacked anywhere in personal -charms the deficit was supplied to one’s mind’s eye the moment one would -glance at her hair. It was plentiful and seemed to cover her head with -bright rippling waves which shimmered with every motion of the well -poised head. - -Bright colors might have been more becoming to her winsome nature, but -she was clad in black, some soft, clinging material on the crepe de chene -order. The neatness of the design, the fine texture, and the correctness -of the fit only added to the grace with which she wore it. - -“No doubt you would have been happier,” I said, as I handed the little -tintype back to her. - -“I don’t know,” she said sweetly; “perhaps somebody would have been purer -today.” - -“Well, Miss Manning, I am all attention and over anxious to hear your -story.” - -“All right, I will tell you all I know, and think that is enough,” she -said, as she cast her eyes downward. - -“I was raised a Christian. I taught a Sunday-school class from the time I -was sixteen until I was just turning my eighteenth year. At this point in -my life my parents changed their place of abode; the only regret I felt -aside from my breaking up of a general friendship, was the fact that I -was called upon to leave my sweetheart. - -“David Strathmore was all to me that any young man can be to a girl who -is in love. He had lived in the little village where I was born and -raised for twelve years, during which time we had been school-mates, -play-fellows, steadfast, youthful friends, and with the true congeniality -of our young natures we became lovers early in life. He was constant, -true and tender. I had learned to count upon his sagacity in all things. -I was not alone in my admiration for him; that is to say, although I -was the only girl who really loved him, but think that was because it -was a foregone conclusion that marriage was to be the result of our -constant association. Everybody who knew him admired him, and that meant -nearly every man, woman and child in the locality, for his father was a -grain merchant and David had grown up in his business there by coming in -contact with almost every citizen. - -“I had never known what trouble was, and when, on the evening before we -were to leave my native town, David and I took a long stroll, I felt as -though each step brought me nearer to the grave. - -“‘But we will be true to each other,’ he said, as he held me in his arms -pressing his warm lips to mine. - -“‘Yes, David, and you will come for me soon, won’t you, dear?’ - -“‘Yes, Ethel, as soon as I have placed a sufficient sum in the bank to -make us a home, I will come for my blue-eyed belle.’ - -“So with promises of loyal devotion, we parted. - -“I really liked my new surroundings very much in our new home. The young -people were very kind to me and I was soon on a firm footing with the -best society of the town. It was a college town and I met a young man who -was in his last year of school. - -“His name was Edward Singleton, and I was more than delighted to know -that he and my David were warm friends. That fact bound us closer -together, and I did not feel that I was being disloyal to David when I -accepted the attentions of his friend Singleton. - -“He was very kind, a born aristocrat, and soon became devoted to me. - -“David came to see me as often as possible. At such times Singleton could -call with him, but always retired from the scene as soon as propriety -would allow. He seemed to know that David and I were engaged. Once -when it was time for David to call, he failed. Fearing he was ill I -immediately wrote to him to ascertain the cause. His very cold letter -informed me that he had come to our town with the intention of making -his regular call, but had learned that I was being attended in a very -chivalrous manner by his old friend Singleton, and he did not wish to be -classed as an interloper, etc. - -“That almost killed me; that letter petrified my heart. It took months of -indulgence and constant coaxing for Mr. Singleton to convince me that it -was David’s plan to jilt me. - -“‘You don’t know,’ he said, ‘but there is some one else he loves.’ - -“He besought me to bestow my love on him, but I was true to David. It was -a fact that I had not answered his letter. I simply ignored him. I still -accepted Mr. Singleton’s attentions and allowed him to condemn David, but -it took more than that to cause me to rescind my promise. - -“But the time came—it came, too, just as I had arrived at the conclusion -that I could not live longer without David. Of course, I had Mr. -Singleton at my feet making love to me all the time and I think that had -much to do with my endurance in the matter, for when a woman loves a man -and that man for any reason whatever goes out of her life, she can even -appreciate the affection of a good loyal dog. It seems to fill an aching -void, you know. - -“As I said, the time came when the last cord of love which bound me to -David was called upon to stand a severe strain. It happened in this way: -There was a party given near our home. I was invited to attend and Mr. -Singleton had insisted on calling for me, but there had happened to be -one girl in the crowd who had made the remark that I surely must be proud -to be able to take up all of Ned Singleton’s time. - -“It stung me, and not caring to be the butt of remarks, I declined to go. -I was at home that evening when about ten o’clock Mr. Singleton called. -He apologized for the time and then went on to say smilingly that he -could not resist the temptation of running in just to tell me that David -was at the party with Emma Cline. - -“The blood left my face. I could feel the pallor creeping over me, then -with a flash and a horrid thought, I almost screamed: - -“‘I don’t believe it.’ - -“I was now burning up. - -“‘Come,’ said Singleton. - -“I went, and there through the bright plate glass I could see that the -bad thought of calling Singleton a liar was entirely wrong. David was -enjoying himself with the other young people. - -“The words of love that Mr. Singleton poured into my ear that night -sounded like the song of the nightingale. It soothed my poor, troubled -heart, and seemed to gather the torn and bleeding fragments together and -they grew with a new hope. I did not know that I was yearning to be -loved, but I was. My soul was fed to its full. I had never before fully -enjoyed Singleton’s protestations of love, but now they were as healing -balm, and I was glad to lay my face on his shoulder and weep as a child -weeps for its lost mother, while his strong arms encircled my form. With -each loving word he gave me a firm but gentle pressure, which only made -the shivers and sobs more delightfully thrilling, and while his own great -heart throbbed in muffled accord with mine he kissed away my tears, -smoothed back the straggling locks of hair which clung to my feverish -face and softened my feelings in such a way that when he tenderly took -me in his arms for the last time that night I felt that there had been a -death and a birth at one and the same time, and that I was the mother of -two children and those two were each named Love, and that in the act of -burying one in the darkness of the cavern of despair the other Love had -shed its light and been born into my soul. - -“From that on I wondered how a girl could be so foolish as to think she -was in love with anyone until she had known at least more than one man. - -“Those were happy days,” said the girl with a sigh, as she glanced at the -little picture. - -“And of course you and Mr. Singleton were married,” said I. - -“I will tell you all, everything,” she said, then hastily rising, she -walked across the room and gazed out of the window. - -When she returned tears were glistening on her cheeks. - -I waited for her to continue, which she did after a moment. - -“Those were happy days; I mean the last days of Ned’s school, for we -planned our future, at least my future. He graduated with highest honors -and came to see me often during vacation. He had intended to settle in -business somewhere before the next term of school commenced. He was just -killing time for one summer, he said. He seemed to fully realize that his -boyhood days were over and put in his time calling on me and writing to -old college chums. - -“We were much surprised when the management of the institution of -learning which he had attended offered him a chair in the college. He had -never aspired to become identified with the faculty, but the honor was -so great for a young man that he was not long in allowing his friends to -persuade him to accept. - -“Our wedding day was set; it was to occur during the holiday season. -Just about the time that Ned took his position I realized that our -indiscretions in love had led to a state of affairs that would be -exceedingly embarrassing. I told Ned my trouble and insisted on an -immediate marriage. But he, of course, would not do that. Now that he was -a Professor there must be some deliberation in the matter of a ceremony. -A big wedding must be planned. Then I began to fail in health, and a -physician, who had been an old classmate of Ned’s, advised that I go -South. My mother wished to accompany me, but as my father’s health was -poor I simply declared myself against going unless she remained with him. -I told her I would rather stay at home and die than go away and live at -the expense of my father’s comfort. - -“I went alone; no power could help me from the predicament which had been -wrought by folly. - -“My babe was born in New Orleans. Ned came to see me as often as his -duties would permit; I had the tenderest of care, and he always commented -on my good appearance when he was with me; but I am sure if he could have -seen me one hour after he had gone he would have thought differently. - -“Of course, I begged him to marry me, and he faithfully promised to do -so, but, he said, ‘We must first allow your dishonor to be forgotten.’” - -“Think of that, will you—my dishonor!” - -At this thought Ethel began to pace the floor, seeming to forget my -presence. - -“Ah,” she said, “if the baby had only lived!” Then, clutching the little -square of tin, she pressed it to her lips with the fervor of a loving -mother. - -“If you had but lived,” she said, as her deep blue eyes gazed at the -chubby face shown in the picture. - -“He put me off from time to time.” - -“One day I received a letter from my mother saying that she would visit -me. Horrors! what was I to do. It was at this point that the good little -French woman with whom I was making my home came to my rescue. She was a -mother. She had a child a year older than mine, but still at the breast. -I told her of my predicament. - -“‘Never mind, dear,’ said she, with a pat on the head, ‘tell your mere to -come; I will save you.’” - -“On the day my mother was to arrive she sent her child to her sister’s -home in the country, and for three days my child received the nourishment -which rightfully belonged to another child. - -“I looked quite well and my mother insisted on my returning home with -her, but I made the excuse that I was going to take a course and become a -trained nurse. My argument prevailed. - -“In sixty days my baby was at rest in a far off corner in one of the -famous cemeteries of New Orleans, which is the object of so much interest -to travelers from the fact that all the vaults are above the ground. -Then for many reasons, I did go into a training school and eventually -graduated as a professional nurse. - -“I followed that occupation for eight years.” - -“But what became of Professor Singleton?” - -“Oh, he became Professor Doubleton,” said the girl, with a toss of her -head, which denoted more sarcasm than words could imply. - -“You mean⸺” - -“Yes, I mean he was married three weeks after the baby died, while I was -yet weeping my eyes red as I sat on that cold gray slab of stone each -day.” - -“Did you not protest?” - -“Yes, I wrote, upbraiding him with all the power I had left, but sorrow -for the loss of my baby had so softened me that my letter was more in the -manner of an appeal than a command, and a man who is as heartless as he -will quickly see a woman’s weak point and will not hesitate to grasp the -opportunity of crushing her so completely that she loses all semblance of -her former self.” - -“He did answer me; rather a long letter, too, it was, but among other -things he said that his position in life was so changed and that he would -be able to rise higher if he would marry some one in his present station, -and a lot of such rot. He closed by saying that ‘a woman with a past has -no future.’ - -“At the end of eight years’ service as a nurse I was a mature woman of -thirty. I had learned enough of the world to be able to take care of -myself. The last patient for whom I cared in the capacity of nurse was a -foreigner; he was a nobleman who had contracted the yellow fever which -was raging in the South at that time. - -“One accomplishment which I had picked up at odd times was playing the -guitar. I could sing a little, and this patient, who was wealthy, seemed -to improve so rapidly after he was able to listen and enjoy music that I -would often sit and play and sing softly to him for hours. The music was -not grand, but, as he said, ‘it was vera sweet.’ - -“As soon as he was able to leave the hospital he insisted that I take -a vacation; purely out of gratitude he took me to New York, where he -lavished many fine presents on me. - -“At last, and to my sorrow, the time arrived when the prince must sail -for his native land, and while I did not love him I was sorry to have him -go. He had never been anything to me nor I to him, except on the lines -of purest Platonicy. True, we had been much together. He was kind and -affectionate to me; he had held me in his arms, but beyond the admiration -of pure loyal friendship he had never expressed himself. I think he -detected my feelings as the time for his departure drew near, for I could -tell that he was more attentive and considerate than ever before. One day -he came to my room and found me crying, whereupon he took me gently in -his arms and asked what caused my sorrow; as I sought to free myself that -I might bathe my swollen eyes, this little picture dropped from my bosom -where I had hastily thrust it. Out of chivalry he picked it up and handed -it to me, glancing at it as he did so. - -“‘Ah,’ said he, ‘a story, eh?’ - -“I indignantly replied that I had never lied to him, for I had never told -him anything. - -“‘No, no. I mean you have—you—know—perhaps—ah—a life story.’ - -“Then while he held me in his strong arms I told him all. I think I felt -better after I had finished than I ever had since Ned Singleton had -instilled a hope in my heart. It was only three hours until the boat -would draw in the gang-plank and depart for sunny Italy. - -“The prince came to say goodbye, as he held my hands in both his and -looked into my eyes I saw the tenderness shine out of his face, then, -without warning, without power to stop, I burst into tears. - -“‘There, there, little girl,’ he said, ‘don’t cry, I won’t go and leave -you; you shall go with me.’ - -“Glad to leave the country where I had known so much misery and pain I -did not wait for a second invitation. In one hour my trunk was aboard the -vessel, and I was strolling about the deck taking in the wonders which -the huge ocean liner affords the untrained mind of the untraveled novice. - -“The state room (our state room) was to me the most wonderful and -interesting point on the boat, so cozy and secluded, to what I had -anticipated, that I felt like lounging around all the time for the first -day or two out. - -“The prince was so pleased to have me play and sing to him that I found -great pleasure in that pastime. - -“I know you think it strange that a woman of the age that I had reached, -should repeat my youthful indiscretions, but nevertheless I did so. -The commonplace existence of man and mistress seemed very conducive to -pleasure for we did enjoy each other’s society so much. - -“We traveled from one point of interest to another in the foreign -country; six years had been spent in sight seeing and pleasure seeking. -I was then thirty-six. We were in Paris when the Chicago World’s Fair -opened. The Prince had often told me that we must begin to surrender each -other, for he was expected to marry someone of rank; I knew all the time -that he was everything to me that it was possible for him to be. I well -knew that I was drifting down the stream of time only to be cast onto -the breakers of separation. We could see the great ghost of dissolution -looming up higher and higher as one by one the days were torn from our -calendar of pleasure. That one haunting thought was the only blot on our -title of happiness. I was surrounded by all the luxuries of the land. The -Prince lavished costly presents on me and seemed so happy when he could -think of some little act of kindness that would especially please me; he -was ever thoughtful and kind, he cared nothing for the company of other -women. - -“He came to our apartments one day. I was almost lost in thought and only -looked up and smiled after he had taken my face between his soft hands -and kissed me. - -“‘And what is my little Senorita dreaming about now?’ he asked. - -“‘I was just thinking,’ I said, ‘that my boy would have been almost a man -now had he lived, and now that I must give you up soon I would have had -some one to love me.’ - -“‘Oh, don’t worry, little girl,’ (he always called me little girl), ‘I -guess some one will love you.’ He seemed to forget that I was growing -old. I have forgotten to mention that my musical education had been taken -up and I had learned to sing fairly well. I had been thinking how I might -earn a living and when he came in I told him my quandary. He suggested -that I take instruction in French dancing and come to America and join -the profession. - -“I hesitated, I could not bring myself to the point of considering such a -proposition, while such joy as I now possessed lasted. Then the necessity -of supporting myself again forced itself into my mind, and we laid the -plans which later brought me to this city. I gained a fair knowledge of -heel and toe dancing, and believing what my teacher said, I considered -myself competent to fill an engagement in America. As a last farewell -trip my Prince concluded to sail with me, we would take in the sights of -the World’s Fair here and he would then say goodbye and leave me in my -native land, older, wiser and as unhappy as when he found me, but it must -all end. He had done all and more for me than he had promised. It was -such a rarity for a man to keep his word with me that the novelty of the -thing was entrancing. - -“The Fair and all its glories were viewed and absorbed by us. Then came -the sad bitter end of all; we must give up all pleasures. I shall never -forget the last few days of his stay. We sat up late into the night, -reviewing all our travels. - -“Then goodbye—I lived days in blank despair. Each time I looked on some -treasure he had given me, tears would flow so freely as to indicate no -control of the flood gates which my eyes appeared to be. - -“At last, more to attract my mind to other things, I made application for -a position. I did not need to work yet, for the Prince had left me with a -well filled purse. I had no trouble in getting an engagement. I rehearsed -all day, performed in the evening, went to my room at night and looked -at this poor little picture and cried myself to sleep. My boy would have -been nineteen. I used to try and imagine what he would have been like as -a full grown man. - -“One night as I was doing my turn I saw in the audience Professor -Singleton. He did not recognize me, and fool like I left the stage and -cried. I arose the next day with that long reaching determination and -desire to see him and talk with him. It was an easy matter to search -the hotels. I found him. He failed to recognize me at first, but a few -words from me quickly convinced him of my identity. I learned that his -daughter, who was nearly seventeen, was attending a musical college here. -Then I wanted to see her, but was careful not to let him know my wishes -in that direction. - -“I soon found her and managed to make her my friend. She was a sweet -girl; I often closed my eyes and took her in my arms with brain afire and -ears strained, almost expecting to hear her call me mamma. - -“We grew fond of each other. She was filled with a desire to go on the -stage. - -“I dared not ask her about her home or her parents. One day she came to -me asking me to go with her to the station to meet a friend, as she put -it. That friend was her father. I would not have gone for worlds for I -was not inclined to make anyone suffer. I am sure I did not expect to -be a witness of what happened. I gave him credit for having more sense, -but as she led me to meet him, instead of being a man and accepting -his position by bowing to the circumstances, he turned his back on me, -grabbed Ione by the arm, and hurried her into a carriage. - -“He came to me the next day and his abuse was as shameful and disgraceful -as it was uncalled for. He insisted that I had taken foul means to poison -his child’s mind. I begged for pity. I tried to stay his scathing tongue; -but, no. He would show me, a public woman, how to entice a pure young -girl from her duty. Then he struck me, the brute. I might have forgiven -all he said, for I suppose he was sincere in his belief, but he should -not have been so cruel as to use personal violence. He went away and left -me lying on the floor in agony. My mind was quickly made up. He prized -this daughter so highly that he could lay me low in the dust and dirt. I, -who should have been mother to his second child the same as I was to the -first. My child by him had long ago been food for the worms. I resolved -that his daughter should meet a fate worse than did his son. I would ruin -her and then ask him to strike again, strike the kind of a blow that _he_ -deserved when I was young and fair like his much beloved daughter. - -“The plan was long. I had many admirers, several of whom professed to -love me; one in particular whom I think meant it. I sent for him and -quickly told him that I had been injured, and that a certain young lady -was the cause of it. He immediately grew gallant and suggested that he -assist me in punishing my tormenter. That was what I wanted. He would -do anything for me especially when there was a girl in the case. I told -him how he could meet her. He followed my instructions, went to her and -represented himself as a theatrical man who was just organizing a company. - -“She took the bait easily and when she was more than half drunk he -brought her to my home, where several members of the profession had -gathered for a little dinner. She soon forgot all about the footlights, -and when she was thoroughly under the influence we put her to bed. Her -downfall was as complete as the plan that caused it. We kept her there -for four days and to make my victory more pronounced I wired for her -father. His curse on her was worse than the one that rested upon me. He -cast her off and attempted to strike her but I was on the lookout. I put -myself between him and her with a dagger. He was a coward. - -“He went away. Ione became herself again but she was a pitiable -object. She wanted so much to die. Just at this time the Prince came -unexpectedly; he had concluded that he could not live without me and had -come to take me, rank or no rank. He met Ione Singleton; her sadness -caused him to ask questions. I told him all, and then with my arms around -his neck asked him if he wished me to be happy. - -“‘Of course I do, dearest, and came to try and make you so.’ - -“‘Then,’ said I, ‘marry Ione, and not me.’ - -“He objected, but I would not yield, and she is a princess now, having -lavished upon her the same kind treatment which almost healed the wound -so much like hers, that I had suffered.” - - - - -TALE FIVE. - -A FORECAST. - - “Ah, that is the ship from over the sea, - That is bringing my lover back to me, - Bringing my lover so fond and true, - Who does not change like the wind like you.” - - -“Oh, my! Look at that. Money, a letter, and good news. Oh, jolly! Three -aces, change of places, and affection of a dark man, and a diamond woman -has good hearts for me, and great days! Of all things! Well, just look at -that! The nine of diamonds, my wish! I am going to get my wish, so I am, -’cause the cards say so!” - -I stood in the open door as the above monologue was being rendered, -feeling a trifle guilty at the thought that I was even a friendly -eavesdropper. I consoled myself, however, with the assurance that I did -not intend to listen, and that I stood as I did all on account of the -picture before me. Even the calloused heart of the writer was felt to -swell, and his mind counted backward to a time when he often looked upon -such sights as I now beheld. - -The room was small, but very cozy and well furnished. The careless -confusion with which the pillows and doilies were scattered around the -room was so absolutely natural that it helped me to form an opinion -of the occupant. And she was but little more than a child. There she -sat tailor fashion on the soft, fur rug, shuffling and dealing a pack -of cards, all the time prattling to herself as some card was turned -over that would signify any important event in her life. Her sweet, -youthful voice was in unison with the rings of light shining hair, while -the rosebud mouth seemed to talk only to keep the big blue eyes from -expressing the feelings of this care free heart. - -When the merry chattering ceased I concluded it was absolutely necessary, -for manner’s sake if nothing more, to make my presence known. I did so by -addressing the young lady. - -“Ah, are you here? When did you come? Won’t you sit down?” - -The running fire of questions did not disturb me in the least, for before -I could frame an answer to any of them she continued to talk. - -“Now, that is right; take that big, soft chair and here, for goodness -sake, let me take your hat. I was just telling my fortune, and don’t you -know, it just came out fine, not a bad card in it—isn’t that jolly? And -would you like to have your fortune told? No, I am not in that business -and will not charge you, so there now, isn’t that cheap enough?” - -To which I replied that I should prefer to be entertained by her own -conversation than to have any forecast added by reading the spots. - -“Oh, well, I can’t entertain.” - -“Yes, but you can give me some news.” - -“News?” - -“Yes.” - -“What subject can I enlighten you on?” - -“Well, you are such an interesting little body I think I should like to -know all about yourself.” - -“All that I know is that I am in love, and, oh, yes, I am very, very -rich, I guess, at least my lawyer says so.” - -“I did not know you were a woman of wealth.” - -“I know. You see no one knows that but my attorney and myself, and now -that I have told you, you also know it, but you won’t tell it, will you?” - -“Not if you wish it to remain a secret, but now that you have told me so -much, will you tell me why you do not want the fact to become public?” - -“Well, you see, as I said, I am in love, and I guess to tell you one part -I must tell you all, but you are one of those horrid newspaper reporters. -You will have that all printed.” - -“No, not until you have given your permission.” - -“Have some candy, and see, here is a present I just received yesterday. -Isn’t he a little darling?” - -Whereupon this little one hundred ten pound mite of humanity dropped a -silk poodle from under a soft comforter with one hand while she passed a -box of Allegrettis to me with the other. While I in turn patted the dog -with one hand and at the same time relieved the box of a couple of pieces -of the sweet-meats. - -“Now,” said I, “let’s have a story.” - -“Well, you see, it was this way. I was born in Janesville, Wisconsin. My -father was a mechanic; he was poor, so very poor, that my mother’s folks, -who were rich, got awfully mad when she married papa. They would not go -to see her nor allow her to go to see them. - -“Finally my father was injured by a falling building and for two years we -were dependent on charity or, as some children used to say to me, we were -county charges. I was so young then that I did not realize what it really -meant. At last papa gave up his last breath of this life and the county -buried him. Mamma’s rich relatives never came near during the trouble. -After papa’s death, mamma obtained work in the home of a family in -Milwaukee. She was housekeeper for an old gentleman of about sixty-five. -His wife had died years before and his family now consisted of himself, -two grown daughters and one son about twenty-two. I was then fourteen, -and it was so arranged that I was to assist with the work and go to -school. That all seemed very nice, for mamma and I could live together. -All went well for a year, during which time my mother’s two brothers died -and as they were the only remaining heirs to the large estate, their -demise left my grandmother the only legal heir, as my grandfather had -so provided in his will that my mother was entirely cut off. At the end -of the first year in our Milwaukee position, Edmund Decker came home -from college ready to do battle with the world. I felt the effects of -the menial exactness of my position. I was but fifteen then, but he of -twenty-three, fell in love with me and fearing his father’s objections, -our meetings were secret. Oh, how I have watched and waited for him, and -how the moments would fly as he held me in his arms and breathed words -into my young ears that made the rich, warm blood of my youth leap and -bound through my veins, while my lips and cheeks burned as though they -were being bathed in fire. Alas, our anticipations were true; we were -caught fairly in one of our little love-making scenes. It happened one -afternoon when we supposed everyone was away. Edmund came to the house -and we were having a tete-a-tete in a little alcove off the library. -Nothing so bad about that, but one of the sisters who existed chiefly on -suspicion, had hidden behind some heavy curtains, within three feet of -us, and after hearing as much as she liked she stepped out of her hiding -place and found me contentedly curled up on Edmund’s lap. - -“It all ended by my running away and coming to Chicago. I did not let -anyone know where I was. I succeeded in getting a position as a nurse -girl in one of the best South Side homes. One day I was in the park with -the babe who was entrusted to my care, and by sheer accident met Edmund. -He explained to me that he was located in the city and had taken up the -study of law. We arranged and met often after that; finally Edmund asked -me to go out to the theater with him one evening and by a great effort I -managed to get away from my duties long enough to accept. After the play -Edmund suggested that we call on a friend of his who was preparing to -leave the city that night and bid her goodbye. We called at the flat of -his friend. She had changed her plans some and would not go until three -o’clock the next morning. She was just preparing some lunch after her -day of packing. We stayed to lunch and had wine. That was the first I -had ever tasted. I never did return to the nursery. Edmund arranged that -night to rent his friend’s furnished apartment and she went away leaving -us in charge of everything. Edmund said it was all right, for we were -going to be married anyway just as soon as he was admitted to the bar, so -that he did not have to depend upon his father for support. - -“We lived very happy, my husband and I, for he was my husband and he used -to call me his wee little wifey. It is no use for me to describe all the -fun of the few short months we dwelt together there, but it all ended in -this way: - -“Edmund was so devoted and attached to me that in order to be with me -constantly he neglected his studies in the law office. Sometimes he would -not leave me for days, and the firm with whom he was studying notified -his father of his dilatory conduct. His father was a shrewd man and was -not long in guessing that there was a woman in the affair some place. He -had Edmund watched, followed and located in the house, discovered that he -was living under an assumed name with some woman but failed to determine -who the woman was. - -“One day I watched and waited for Edmund as usual. Night came, but -no Edmund; all night I waited by the window for that form to appear. -Daylight broke in all its freshness and glory only to find me still -longing for the loving caress on which I had learned to exist. Long days -and dreary nights dragged slowly enough. I could not imagine why Edmund -did not return or at least write me. I listened for the familiar step -along the hall, and when exhaustion compelled me to seek rest and sleep, -I would dream of rivers of dirty, black water, and finally awoke from -some horrible nightmare screaming for Edmund. I did not lose faith in -him and I thank God for that. I knew some terrible calamity had befallen -him, but silly little goose that I was, dared not tell anyone nor try -to find him. Each day the sun rose with more spots on it, each night -was darker than the preceding one; every hour brought more misery and -desolation to my young heart and with nothing to console or encourage me, -I almost cried my eyes out. I had no appetite, consequently at the end of -three weeks I was a fit subject for a dime museum. Oh, I looked terrible! -At that time I was confronted with a new trouble which absorbed some of -my time and attention. When Edmund went away he left very little money in -the house and I was suddenly brought face to face with the fact that I -was almost penniless. My maid of all work left at this stage, and I was -entirely alone in my misery. - -“For three days and nights I had not a bite to eat, then a strange thing -happened; a woman came to my house and asked me if I would rent her and -her husband a room. She was a handsome, dignified, well dressed woman -and offered to pay liberally and in advance. I hesitated, not because I -thought of refusing but for the reason that I was faint and hungry and -not strong enough to talk glibly; the woman mistook my slowness of reply. -She thought I was afraid she would not pay, whereupon she took from her -purse a roll of bills greater than I had ever before seen, at the same -time asking me how much I wanted for the front room. Visions of loaded -tables, steaming dishes and dainty salads rushed past my eyes while the -aroma of hot coffee seemed to fill my nostrils until my wasted frame -shook with an excited hunger. I managed to state a price. She paid me -and went to bring her trunks. Oh, at last, I could have something to eat; -I could regale myself with food such as I had not tasted for days. I went -to my room to dress thinking it best to go to a restaurant. Fortunately -I had given my roomer a key and when she returned that night she found -me where I had fallen, half dressed on the floor of my room, while -clasped tightly in my hand were the crumpled bills she had given me. I -battled long and hard with a fever, all the time calling for Edmund. At -last the fever broke, leaving me a poor, emaciated wreck. The doctor -told me I would be all right soon and added that I would soon be able -to go to work. That sounded so strange to me who had learned to depend -on someone else; time did bring my complete physical recovery, but I -had added responsibilities. I owed a large doctor bill which came to me -with the request to remit before I was fairly able to sit up all day. I -could not pay it, and could not figure out how and when I could expect -to pay. Almost daily the medical man’s collector called. He harassed me -so that I actually wished the doctor had allowed me to die. In spite of -all this I grew strong; color came to my cheeks, my lips took on the rosy -hue which had so many times drawn complimentary remarks from Edmund. My -eyes shone with their old time brightness, and when people told me I was -getting pretty, they said it in such an earnest way that I was inclined -to believe them. My improved condition was due to the kindness of the -woman who was rooming at my house; during my illness she assumed entire -control of everything, and was to me all that a mother could be. - -“At last the doctor’s demands became unbearable. He called personally one -day; his salute was genial and his manner kindly, but his remarks were -burdened with sarcasm. He went even so far as to make improper advances -to me, saying that I might liquidate my obligations to him by becoming -his friend. I was so indignant that the words I used in telling him of -his unprofessional conduct could not well be mistaken. He laughed at my -rage and informed me that he knew of my affair with Edmund; also that -the woman living in my house was a person of improper character and -accused me of being aware of the fact. His argument was no good. I would -not listen to his demands. After he had gone I went to the lady in the -house and told her all that had passed. She acknowledged that she was -not married to the man whose name she bore, and even half advised me to -accept the doctor’s offer. I was desperate and had it not been for the -mean advantage he had taken I believe I would have consented to the plan, -but the man had completely killed all feeling in my breast for him and it -was now but a matter of business. I owed and must pay, and pay I would, -but in cash. I resolved upon one thing, and that was that if my soul was -to be disposed of in a mercenary manner it would go to some one who was -willing to strike a bargain and not because I was under obligations to -that one. I thought of one more plan and acted upon it as a last resort. -I put an advertisement in the leading papers, asking Edmund to return -to me or send me some word. I put it in as a blind advertisement. I -received one reply and it stated that the party advertised for had gone -to Europe and I need not expect to see him as he was through with me. -Heavens! how my Scotch blood boiled. I branded the whole thing as a lie. -Again the lady roomer helped me out. I counselled with her and she went -to the law office where he had been studying and there she saw a letter -from him postmarked Berlin. That settled it; my mind was now made up as -to my next step. I began a methodical canvass of the houses of ill repute -and when I found one that I thought was of the better class of places -of that nature I applied for admission and was admitted. This occurred -about four o’clock in the afternoon, one cold, dreary, cloudy day, not -a fitting atmosphere for one to begin a new undertaking, but a fitting -inducement to tempt one to rid one’s self of the blues. I was to go to -my new home at once and fired with the fever of excitement and firm -determination to bury the past, I took my trunk and was assigned to my -room in the midst of public debauchery and iniquity. I must say that the -surroundings were very inviting. I soon learned that I was not the only -unfortunate girl in the world; many more who were there had even more sad -experiences than I, owing to the fact, perhaps, that they had been in the -world longer. - -“As I did not have the proper clothes upon my arrival I was not asked to -go to the parlor the first evening, so I spent the time visiting with the -other members of this sinful family, during such time as they were not -engaged. - -“The next morning a modiste took my measure. At noon several flowing -robes of silk were sent to my room for trial. I selected three beautiful -ones, which were fitted to me. The landlady had them charged to her -account and I was told to dress myself and appear in the parlor at eight -that evening. - -“I dressed; I appeared; my face burned, my fingers tingled and I know my -eyes stared. It was a beautifully furnished home, music, birds, flowers, -gayety and mirth, answered the clink of the wine glasses, as long as -the parlor was the scene of the festivities, but I knew that burning, -scalding tears were the sequels to all this as soon as the participants -were allowed to retire to their rooms alone. The shudders which convulsed -me were noticed by others of the house and many a kind touch and look -was given me. Fate seemed to be my Saviour that night, for it was nearly -midnight and for some reason none of the many male visitors seemed -inclined to cultivate my acquaintance. - -“I had just received permission to go to my room when the bell rang. -And, oh Gods! I was told to wait. I waited and as the visitors were -ushered into the reception room I heard a voice that chilled my flesh, -and caused my blood to stand still; it was the voice of one I knew well. -Then a vivid, wild thought came to me. Had Edmund found me at last? Thank -Heaven, he was in time to save me! - -“It was with hope wandering and blind stupidity that I managed to answer -the call and go forward to meet the newcomers. Those ten steps covered -ten years in flight of time; what could I tell him? What would he say? -How could I look him in the face? While all these mental problems were -racing through my brain, I was drawing nearer to the little group of men. - -“‘Gentlemen, this is Miss Adele.’ (That was the name I had chosen.) - -“The announcement aroused me from my trance-like condition and I raised -my eyes and looked squarely in the face of Edmund’s father. The other -men I did not know. Edmund’s father stared, started and then with a gasp -cried, ‘My God, girl! Child, what are you doing here?’ - -“‘I am here to make a living,’ I said frankly. - -“Without excuse or apology to his friends he drew me to a seat. I almost -fainted at the thought of meeting him and being chosen by him in such a -place; my very soul revolted.” - -“But where was Edmund?” - -“Ah, there you are. You see when I heard the voice I knew it was that -of his father. I, grasping at a forlorn hope, naturally supposed that -Edmund had come back, gained his father’s consent to marry me, and they -had started out to find me. It was very natural to think they would be -successful for a girl in that position is always expecting the worst to -happen, or rather to be exposed to some one whom they do not wish to see.” - -“And Edmund was not in the party at all?” - -“No. His father was a man of slightly sporty inclinations, and he with -his party of friends were simply out for a night and happened to come to -the place where I was. But the turn of affairs seemed to change his mind -a bit, for he questioned me so closely as to my whereabouts in the past, -and as to how long I had been in that house, that I became suspicious, -but I told him all, everything truthfully that had happened to me since -I had left his home; but one thing I sought to keep secret and that was -the name of the man with whom I had lived. But it seemed impossible for -one so unused to intrigue to keep a secret. I had a chain (this chain) -around my neck, and on the chain this locket, and as I leaned my head -forward it dangled in the air and unknown to me he took the locket and -opened it and this picture, Edmund’s picture, was in it. - -“At first he raved and swore, ‘to think that I, a common woman of the -town, should dare to wear his son’s picture in such a place as that!’ I -don’t know how I held myself together, but I did, and gently reminded -him that he should not object to his son’s picture being worn in a place -which he himself frequented. - -“He gradually became reasonable and we talked matters over in general, -he finally drawing out of me that it was his son whom I had looked upon -as my husband. He satisfied himself as to my purity, otherwise, then -made a confession. It was he who had caused Edmund to be spirited away -to Europe. Edmund had endeavored to correspond with me, directing his -letters to the name that we were making temporary use of, but his father -had intercepted them, thinking that the boy had fallen into the hands -of some very bad woman who would eventually ruin his life. It was he, -of course, who answered my advertisement, but to make amends for his -mistakes, he made me the proposition that I should have a good home, go -to school, take music, and in fact qualify myself in every possible way, -during the two years following, all at his expense. At the end of the -two years he promised that if I had been good and true Edmund should come -back from Europe and marry me. And the two years will be up in just three -weeks, and I am so happy.” - -“You were telling your fortune when I came in; will you tell me what you -wished?” - -“Oh, sure! I wished Edmund would come back before the three weeks are up.” - -“You said you were rich.” - -“Yes, you see, Grandma died and left me all the money my mother has been -kept out of all this time, but don’t tell that, will you? For I want to -know for sure that Edmund loves me for just me.” - -As the writer arose to leave, a messenger boy brought in a strange -looking envelope and after being convinced that he was talking to Leonore -Marks, he handed the envelope to her, saying, “Cablegram for you.” - -It read, “Home in ten days. Be ready to be married. - - EDMUND.” - -“Now, you see, the cards were right. I shall get my wish.” - -As the writer left Miss Marks, in her joyous delight, was administering -such caresses to the silk poodle that he half wished he too were a little -white dog. - - - - -TALE SIX. - -A DAUGHTER OF PROUD KENTUCKY. - - “One sin, I know, another doth provoke; - Murder’s as near to lust, as flame to smoke.” - - -In response to a vigorous rap, I was admitted to a scantily furnished but -clean apartment, the warmth and glow of which made a pleasant contrast -to the drizzling rain, the rows of flickering gas lamps, and the sloppy -streets that I had been plodding through for several moments. - -Leaving my hat and coat in the narrow hall, I followed the directions -of the little girl who opened the door, and soon found myself in the -parlor which contained furniture that was old, badly matched and much -worn; pictures—well, two portraits, and a few little cards on which some -enterprising merchant had printed his name, all of which failed to add -greatly to the attractiveness of the room. My scrutiny was not to be -confined to the handiwork of man, however, for by the time I had taken a -complete inventory of the room, my attention was attracted to an object -of nature. I heard a soft voice say, “Good evening, sir.” The full tone -and sweet southern accent caused me to turn, and as I did so my mind was -filled with anticipation. - -Before me stood a girlish figure. She might have been twenty-five, -although she did not look it; there was that in the deep gray eyes -which told of trouble rather than the joy of youth. Her soft hair was -rolled loosely back from the low brow, leaving only a little curl or two -above her temples. Her neat fitting house dress of princess design did -little to add a matronly air. Mature youthfulness sweetened by cares, is -what flashed through my mind as I took the slender white hand which she -extended with the dignity of a court lady. - -“I am Mr. ⸺,” I said. - -“Yes, I have been expecting you,” she said, as she pointed to a wobbly -rocker, at the same time gliding across the room to a little divan. - -“And are you ready to proceed?” I asked, in the cold mechanical way that -had been supplied by nature and developed by cultivation. - -“I suppose so, sir, but what am I to tell you first?” - -“Tell me where you were born and grew up, and so on, right through to the -present time.” - -“Well, I was born in Kentucky, and there grew to—to—yes, I might say -to womanhood, although I was young when I left there. I was an only -child; my father was a wealthy stockman and during my childhood want was -an unknown word to me. My earliest recollections were of my old black -mammy, who used to croon to me, in a voice that was always soothing. I -was taught to believe that the world was at my command; a mother’s care -I never knew, for my advent into this world cost her her life. Ah, sir, -I have often longed for a real mother, one to whom I could go and tell -all my little secrets, one who could feel the love for me which my nature -seems to crave. - -“My father was a most indulgent parent, but I fear that in his great -goodness he failed to conceive the emotions of a girl’s heart. - -“When I was fifteen I met a young man from the North. It was quite an -accidental meeting, but it was not an accident that I loved him, nor -that he worshiped me. He came to our plantation to buy some horses for -his stables in Chicago; he was honorable enough to ask my father for my -hand in marriage, whereupon my father flew into a rage, told him that his -business there was buying horses and not putting foolish notions into a -young girl’s head. The scene was a stormy one and closed by the young -man being ordered to leave. He left that night and took me with him. We -crossed the river into Indiana and tried to get married, but on account -of my extreme youthful appearance we were unable to obtain the license. -We traveled on to Cincinnati, failure again confronted us. Just as we -were in the act of boarding a train for Chicago an officer arrested us. -I was taken back to my home, while my lover was placed in jail on the -charge of abduction. A taste of the things in the outer world only made -the fancies in my childish brain grow. I soon found myself planning how I -could leave my father’s home and secure freedom for the only man I loved. -I begged and pleaded with my father, but to no avail; finally he informed -me that he would horsewhip me and lock me up if I ever mentioned the -matter again. This was too much; all the pride within me bounded to the -surface, my hot Southern blood tingled, my cheeks flamed in anger. It was -then that I missed my mother more than any time in my life, the thought -of her put a new idea into my disturbed brain. I would go to the spot -where she was laid to rest, there to find relief in the desolation of the -grave. - -“It seems as but yesterday that I strolled down the lane, across the -meadow, and entered the little enclosure that had been set apart for a -final resting place for the members of our little family, the ripened -blue grass waved gently at the bidding of the gentle breeze, the full, -warm October sun shed its beauteous rays of light upon the great -spreading trees, the birds seemed to be chanting their last song of -summer, the red and brown leaves lay scattered on the hillside, making -a scene of gorgeous splendor in the bright sunlight. Drooping flowers -showed signs of the first frost, chattering squirrels scurrying hither -and thither, gathering the winter’s store of food, added to the fullness -of nature. - -“As I followed the little unused path, keeping before me all the time -the tall, white shaft, I seemed to leave the world in which I had been -living, the choking sensation gave way, my eyes no longer burned, the -great relief I sought seemed granted, and instead of gasping for breath -and feeling the hot scalding tears running down my cheeks, I kneeled -down on my mother’s grave and gave way to the sobs that came, it seemed -to me, like great waves of comfort, and felt tears that were cool and -refreshing. I remained there for hours, never looking up and not till a -well known fluttering sound reached my ear, did I think of leaving. The -noise was made by a flock of blackbirds that had come to seek shelter for -the night. As I passed down the sloping hillside where the long shadows -were fast fading into the twilight, the first feeling of loneliness crept -over me but I did not want to leave. I loved the place. It seemed the -most sacred place on earth to me. - -“That night as I rolled and tossed in my bed, I fully realized that -I had been wrong. Yes—it was wrong for me to disobey my father and I -had aggravated him until he was cross. It was all my fault that he had -threatened me. I had no business to annoy him and would go now and ask -his forgiveness. I stole out of my room feeling like a guilty culprit. I -can see myself now as I crept through the long hall of our old Southern -home, closer and closer to his door, until at last I could hear his deep, -heavy breathing. I pushed the door open, then at the critical moment -I became frightened lest I should waken him, still I was firm in my -purpose. There in the darkness of his room I saw the hillside, saw the -birds and heard the soft rustling of the leaves. Oh, how my heart went -out to poor papa, alone—alone—in the world, with only an ungrateful, -disobedient daughter as his nearest of kin. I am sure that the time -spent at the grave created a communion of souls. I could almost see my -mother as she had been pictured to me, and the vision drew me nearer to -papa. One step more and I was inside the room, cautiously I crept to the -bedside, then quietly kneeling on the carpet, I buried my face in the -pillow beside his head, then for the first time that I could remember I -put my arms around his neck and kissed him. His first words brought a -flood of tears to my eyes and caused such a lump to rise in my throat -that I could not say a word. I knew now that he misunderstood me, for -with a muttered curse he commanded me to go back to my room. - -“‘But please, papa, hear me,’ I begged. - -“‘No, I don’t want any more foolish nonsense out of you,’ he said. - -“Nothing could induce him to hear me, and I was compelled to leave -without making him understand that it was forgiveness and just a word of -love that my young heart yearned for, instead of his permission to see my -lover. - -“Back to the loneliness of my own room I went. As I felt my way along the -dark hall I wished that I might die. Ah, if I could only have heard one -kind word from him I would—well, I am sure that you would not have had -this story for your book, but I suppose,” said the girl with a dreamy -sigh, “that the foundation of your work is cemented together with the -mortar made from mistakes.” - -“Yes, I quite agree with you, that if there were no sorrow in this world -this book never would have been written.” - -“Well, back to the story,” she said, with a toss of her head, as though -she would have it done with. - -“Yes, go on.” - -“I returned to bed but not to sleep; I tossed about in frantic efforts to -forget the burning wound I felt. When daylight came I arose and dressed -myself without calling my maid. My eyes were so red and swollen that I -could not go down to breakfast at the usual hour and when I did go I -asked for my father. - -“‘Law sakes alive, honey, you fadah done lef de place mos’ an houah -ago,’ said my old black mammy. - -“‘Did he leave any word for me?’ I asked. - -“‘No, Mis’ Abbie, he jes went and nevah said nothin’.’ - -“My heart fell within me. I had intended to try again to explain to him -my resolutions of the day before. Later in the day I learned that my -father had gone on a ten days’ trip. Oh, how desolate I felt, with no one -but the colored servants about. I am not surprised now that I was easily -persuaded to leave my home, and it came about in this way: On the evening -of the day of my father’s departure, a man came to our house on business; -he was not an entire stranger for he had been there many times before -although I had seen but little of him. He was a noted horseman from -California and his business, like my lover’s, was to purchase horses. -He was received into our house and all the generous hospitality of a -Kentucky home was extended to him, and I, being the only member of the -family at home, took upon myself the duty of entertaining our guest. He -was a man of fifty and his gray hairs added much to his polite dignity. -He was a much traveled man and his stories of adventure were so thrilling -and interesting that he quickly had me wrapped in attention. The evening -being warm, we sat on the broad gallery (better known as a veranda in the -North) and after asking my permission, he lit a cigar and as he leisurely -puffed and blew out clouds of smoke, he explained to me how he had been -all over the world, and where he lived. In doing so he painted such -pictures of the beauties of nature that I lost interest in the little -world that I had always known. A new desire was created within me and -then a new thought came to me. I wondered if this kind old gentleman had -any daughters of his own, and if he had I wanted to hear about them; that -desire was followed with the thought that it would be nice if my father -were like him. I finally asked him if he had a daughter, but he seemed -reticent as to her. At last with a struggle born of desperation I asked -him if his daughter loved him and should come to him for advice would he -give it. - -“‘Bless your heart, yes, any father would do that,’ said he. - -“I did not think he could hear me crying softly, and I made no reply -for some moments, that my quivering voice might not be the talisman of -betrayal. At last I ventured to say, ‘It would be so nice if such were -really the case.’ - -“At that he said, ‘Come here, little girl, and tell me what the trouble -is.’ - -“With that great desire to unload my heart, I could not resist. I needed -but one invitation. I told him all. When I had finished he said, ‘I know -your father very, very well, and do not think he will consent, but I will -help you.’ - -“‘Oh! you will,’ I exclaimed, ‘I knew you would; you are so good, so -kind;’ and I fell upon my knees in front of him. - -“The plans were quickly made. I was to leave the house the next day, go -to the railway station which was but a mile distant, buy a ticket and -go to Indianapolis, wait until my benefactor could go to Cincinnati to -secure the release of my lover, then they would join me and we would -be married. It all carried nicely. After we were married the question -arose as to how to keep out of reach of my father’s wrath. That was soon -settled by our accepting an invitation to visit our champion in San -Francisco. My father made no attempt to follow me so far as I know. - -“We set up housekeeping in the West. My husband was devoted to me and -we could never thank our ‘good Samaritan,’ as we called him, enough -for helping us. As you well know, a Southern bud soon bursts into a -full grown flower, consequently I was not long in developing into a -full fledged woman, and in spite of my tender years, I felt the full -importance that devolved upon me, when, after twelve months of wedded -life, a baby girl came to brighten our home. - -“My husband had not entered into business of any kind, he having plenty -of money, and as he said, cared to do nothing but love his ‘little girl.’ -Happy? I was as happy as an angel and sometimes think that the memory -of those days keeps me alive now; again, the thought almost crushes me. -I shall never forget the first cloud that hovered over my sunlit career -of wifehood and motherhood. It was in the evening of one of the days of -the great race meet. I was waiting for my husband to come home, sitting -in the window as was my custom. It was after nightfall, but many of the -pleasure seekers of the day had extended the revelry into twilight sport. -Handsome equipages, loaded with gaily dressed women and well groomed men, -rolled by one after another. Some were singing, while some more fortunate -carried buglers and other musicians. I had not attended the races, on -account of not wishing to leave the baby, but Harry, my husband, had -gone. We had been invited by our old friend and while Harry gently -protested that he would not go a step without me, he finally consented -after considerable persuasion on my part. At nine o’clock in the evening -my weary vigil was rewarded. A four-in-hand drawing a handsome tally-ho -drew rein in front of our home. I could not see any of the faces and the -first intimation I had of Harry’s being in the crowd was a remark some -one addressed to him, saying, ‘It’s all dark, Hal, old man, nobody at -home, don’t get out.’ - -“Then I heard him say, ‘Oh yes, I know she is here waiting for me, and I -must leave you.’ - -“Then a jangle of maudlin voices, one saying one thing and one another, -but among the many things that were said were, ‘Goodnight, sweetheart,’ -and ‘Here, kiss me once more before you leave.’ ‘Be sure and come up -tomorrow.’ - -“I could stand no more; I moved from my position to a point where I could -touch the button which turned on the electric lights, then I heard this: - -“‘Hist, sh—be still,’ and then in the brave and manly tones, I heard him -thank his host. The host asked to be remembered to me, and to assure -me that he was sorry I could not be with them, etc.,—then respectable, -cheery good nights, were the parting salutes. - -“Harry came into the house and as was his custom, took me in his arms. I -discovered that he had been drinking, but uttered no word of reproach, -neither did he offer to explain. Next day after he had gone down town, -I sent a note to our old friend which he answered in person. I begged -him not to take Harry on any more escapades. He laughingly answered that -a man must see a little of the world; I did not like his manner, and -frankly asked him to tell me all about the affair. - -“‘There’s nothing to tell,’ said he, ‘except that as you know, Harry is -a fine fellow and a good entertainer, and I needed him to help to take -care of that jolly little party and I must say that he was a success. Ah, -yes—Harry is a prime favorite, and you, my little girl, should be proud -to know that since he has been so unfortunate as to lose every dollar of -his own that he can yet be of such service to me that I can afford to pay -him a princely sum for his good qualities.’ - -“‘Lost every dollar! why, what do you mean Mr. ⸺?’ - -“‘I mean that unfortunate speculation has caused your husband to—to—Ah, -well never mind, little girl, I did not come here to tell you bad news, -but, rather to comfort and assist you. Come, come, cheer up,’ he said, as -he laid his hand on my bowed head in a kindly manner. - -“‘But I implore you to tell all. All, everything!’ - -“‘Yes, let the worst be known. It is I who can help him most, I, his wife -who has shared his comforts during days of plenty who must now cling to -him in his penniless misery.’ - -“‘Oh, come now, don’t take it so hard, it is not so bad as that; he can -make a very comfortable living for you and the baby.’ - -“‘But how? He has no money,—no business,—no position.’ - -“‘Have I not just told you that as an entertainer he was valuable? I can -use him to good advantage. You see, little girl, I travel much, have many -horses, and consequently many followers. During racing season I sometimes -have a full carload of ladies and gentlemen going where I go and backing -my horses, and we entertain the hosts who gather at the race tracks.’ - -“‘Oh, you are so kind, sir; and we can travel and help you,’ I said -eagerly. - -“‘Well, yes, or rather Harry can, but you see, little girl, you must not -want to go.’ - -“‘Why not, why cannot I go too? I will do all I can to help; I want to go -with Harry, and I know he will want me.’ - -“‘Yes, all that is true, but you can see, my dear girl, the people we -have are—well—at any rate you might not like them.’ - -“‘But I will try, I will do all I can to make them like me.’ - -“‘Yes, I know,—but the truth of the matter is they are not fit for you to -associate with.’ - -“‘Not fit—why, what do you mean? Not fit companions for me and yet my -husband is to become your hireling and mingle with them.’ - -“My blood boiled, my heart seemed to leap to my throat, while my temples -throbbed until my head was in a whirl. - -“‘Oh, but you see that is another matter,’ said my caller. ‘With your -husband going it is simply a business proposition, while with you, to say -the least, it would ruin your reputation.’ - -“‘And my husband’s name, how about that? Is that not to be considered? -Am I to sit at home idle and permit my husband to join a party of men -and women whose companionship is of such a nature as would ruin a decent -woman who happened to be in their company? No! no, Mr. ⸺, if the company -is unfit for me, it is not good enough for him.’ - -“‘But you must live.’ - -“‘Yes, but not on the price of my husband’s honor.’ - -“‘Oh, my! what a fine little lady you are, but come now, think it over -a while and I will see you later, and here, for fear you will need -something, take this,’ and he pushed a roll of bills into my hand, then -added, as he saw the look of disgust on my face, ‘it is all right, I owe -it to Harry and you are entitled to it.’ - -“I took the money and he departed. - -“That night Harry did not come home, though I watched and waited until -nearly daylight. When morning came, I sent a note to Mr. ⸺, asking for -Harry. He replied that he would see me later in the day, and if Harry was -not home by the time he called, he would tell me where he had gone. - -“Gone—what did all this mean? Oh, the agony of that day. When night -came I was years older. As I then thought the climax of my sorrows was -reached. In the evening our old friend called to inform me that Harry -had recently been drinking and gambling, and associating with improper -persons until not only was all his money gone, but his good name as -well; in fact, he had incriminated himself by obtaining money by false -representations, and had left for parts unknown. - -“‘But that need not have bothered him, for the man he had defrauded was -our old friend himself, and he would not have punished him, for my sake -if for no other reason,’ so he told me by way of explanation. - -“Oh, what was I to do? Left almost destitute and disgraced by my baby’s -father. Our friend kindly offered to assist me, but how could I accept -it? for I knew no way by which I could repay him. Well, finally he left -me, after doing all he could to comfort me while I wept, using the -kindest words and softest tones. He averred no harm could come to me from -any source, and as a parting salute kissed my tear stained cheek and -said, ‘rather than have you suffer, little girl, I will personally supply -all your wants.’ - -“The long hours dragged on until gray streaks of dawn were visible -breaking in the East before my weary eyes closed in slumber. I was -awakened early by the maid, only to be notified that I had a caller who -insisted on seeing me at once. - -“I dressed hurriedly and sallied forth to greet my caller, who proved to -be a neighbor lady. She was one of those people who at times suddenly -become deeply interested in other people’s affairs. She had just run in -to tell me that it was something terrible the way I was carryin’ on.” - -“‘Just think,’ she said, ‘your husband gone and left you, and all because -of that old dog who comes here every night! Oh, I am sorry for you, but I -want you to know that you are not the first woman who has been deserted -by her husband on account of seeing too much of that “licentious old -cur.”’ - -“I was too dumfounded to answer her, and only told her that I did -not understand, consequently did not choose to enter into a lengthy -discussion of the matter. I closed the short but stormy interview by -asking to be excused and was highly gratified by seeing my early and -impertinent caller pass out with her nose high in the air. - -“My time was absorbed during the morning hours trying to determine the -cause of her violent abuse of our friend. My mind was relieved about -the luncheon hour, when I had another caller; this one also a neighbor -and a woman of refinement. She came to console me in my trouble, saying -among other things, that it was an event which had been looked for as the -inevitable result, for many weeks. I was not overjoyed at the particular -kind of consolation which she dealt out, but my spirit was subdued to -some extent and my anger of the early morning somewhat mollified. I was -curious to know in just what position I was. - -“My second caller soon made me acquainted with facts that surprised -me. She told me that the uncouth old lady who had called first was the -mother of a poor unfortunate, who had at one time possessed a charming -figure and a pretty face; their former residence had been in the slums -of the city. One day our friend saw her and took a fancy to her, induced -her to accompany him in a round of debauchery, and while yet under the -influence of the drunken infatuation, he had purchased the beautiful -home near by and moved the girl and her mother into it; but the flower -soon faded and the attraction which the poor young thing had held for -him was soon gone. He settled with them in a financial way that afforded -the means to maintain the well located home. The fact that he paid no -further attention to them angered the old lady and she made use of every -opportunity to abuse and decry him. - -“That same evening I was favored with another call from the gentleman -himself; he had heard nothing from Harry, and could give me no -information as to his whereabouts. I asked him for advice and he -suggested that I wait a reasonable time for news from Harry, and if I -did not hear from him, he thought it would be well for me to start out -to find him. Next day the agent who had charge of the house in which we -lived, called. - -“‘I came,’ he said, ‘to collect the rent.’ - -“‘I was not aware that we owed any rent,’ was my response. - -“‘Oh, yes, two months.’ - -“‘But I was under the impression that my husband leased the premises for -a year.’ - -“‘So he did, but did not pay the rent for a year.’ - -“In my ignorance of city affairs I never dreamed but that city homes were -rented the same as farms. Then, with a happy thought, I said, ‘I will pay -you, how much is it?’ - -“‘Well, the fact is, if you want the house it will be $150 per month.’ - -“‘But that is more than we were to pay.’ - -“‘Yes, I know, but I have been compelled to raise the rent.’ - -“‘Why?’ then thinking of the lease I said, ‘does not the contract hold -good?’ - -“‘No, you see you have forfeited your rights in the lease by a failure to -pay according to the terms stipulated in it.’ - -“‘But why do you ask double?’ - -“‘I have reasons which I would rather not make known to you.’ - -“‘I suppose it is because my husband is away, and you think you are in a -position to take advantage of me,’ I said warmly. - -“‘No, it is not that, but if you insist on knowing, I will tell you.’ - -“‘Proceed.’ - -“‘I am sorry, but it is because this is an irreproachable neighborhood, -and some of the residents of this locality object to your living here -any longer, and as I have many clients in this immediate vicinity, it -behooves me to heed their demands.’ - -“I was almost too wild to speak but finally found my mind and tongue in a -co-operative state long enough to ask him the reason why I was ostracised -by the neighbors. - -“‘Because you have Mr. ⸺ call here, and it is a well known fact that he -was the cause of your husband’s leaving you.’ - -“My head swam, my throat ached as I forced back the sobs which almost -choked me. My pride was not to be crushed in this manner, so I went to -my room and produced the roll of bills which this man, whose very touch -seemed poison to a woman’s name, had given me; for the first time I -counted the money, just three hundred dollars, how gladly and proudly I -handed it to the agent, never thinking where my next dollar was coming -from, and he, crafty man that he was, gave me two receipts, one for the -two months we owed him, at seventy-five dollars per month, the other -for one hundred and fifty dollars in advance. Within two hours after he -left the house I received a notice that my rent had been raised to three -hundred dollars per month, and in addition he must ask me to give him -a secured lease. What to do I did not know. I sat down and wrote to my -father. I waited five days for the answer which I hoped would contain -an enclosure, during which time I remained indoors not speaking to a -person except my maid. I fed my soul on the anticipation that I should -be able to live down the unearned shame which had fallen upon me. I -knew, of course, when papa understood my position he would be liberal, -and that after all, the pitiless neighbors must apologize to me, for I -was as good as any of them. The reply came. Oh, joy of heaven and earth! -how I kissed the envelope on which was the well known chirography of my -dear old papa. Then with trembling hands and joyous exclamations, I tore -the end off, and nervously pulled out the reply. The sheet on which the -answer was written was crumpled and clinched tightly in my hand when I -regained consciousness; the maid and the kind old doctor were the only -ones with me; the doctor soon left and I read the answer again, ‘Better -get the man who helped you to marry that dog, to help you now.’ That was -all, and that was written across the back of the envelope which contained -the letter which I had written him. Just at nightfall the door bell -rang; the maid reported that my old friend had called. But the doctor -had left strict orders that I see no one, and she sent him away; in less -than an hour several bottles of the rarest wine that his famous cellar -contained, were sent to me, along with an armful of most beautiful cut -flowers. - -“For three weeks I laid in a bed of fever, during which time the only -feminine voices that reached my ears were those of the trained nurse and -my maid. Each day dainty ices and fresh flowers were sent to me, all by -the hand of the man whose acquaintance was a black mark on the white -character of any woman. - -“During all those days of tossing in burning delirium, no women in the -neighborhood crossed the threshold of my home. I often thought as I -rolled and twisted in search of some cool spot in the bed, that if some -kind hearted woman would just come in and touch me or look on me with a -feeling of friendship, I would have been ready to take a good cry, then -close my eyes to all things earthly. But no—I lived to feel the sting of -and be despised by my sex. - -“After I recovered my old friend called. I was so grateful for all he had -done, that he really seemed near to me; then I told him the incident of -the lease, and my appeal to my father, whereupon he scolded me gently, -for not having come to him in the first place. - -“When I was able to go out he took me for a drive; his company was all -the pleasure I enjoyed. Women whom I had known, turned their noses up -when I met them on the street. Finally the time came for the rent to be -paid again. I was still weak from my recent illness. We had just started -for a drive when the agent called again. I told him at the door that I -had not the money with which to pay the enormous sum due for rent, and -it ended by his giving me notice to vacate. - -“Next day a special messenger brought me a signed receipt for a year’s -rent, together with a brief note from my friend, saying that he had just -bought the property and was now the landlord. I could not see then what -it all meant, but I know now, that I was simply sold to the highest -bidder, and the buyer conducted the sale and purchase all on his own -account. - -“I shall never forget my seduction; it occurred right there where I -had known so many happy hours with Harry, in the same room where I had -been accustomed to receive his beautiful caresses, there in the midst -of condemning neighbors; flowers filled the room in wild profusion. -We had a dinner, my friend had invited a few gentlemen to spend the -evening, the feast of good things was freely washed down with wine. -A musician had kept the piano ringing out sweet melodies; everything -appeared bright; words seemed soft and soothing, time passed quickly, the -callers were gone all too soon, in fact, just as I had begun to fully -enjoy the evening, they seemed to fade away almost before I knew they -were gone. The lights were lowered, as though being smothered by the -perfume that filled the house; everything looked soft and velvety, the -flowers organized themselves into a kaleidoscopic scene as though they -understood that it was time for retirement and so effectually blended -their different hues as to cause one to feel that sweet repose abided in -the air. - -“I was so glad when I reached my bed and realized in a dreamy way that I -was being disrobed and fondled at the same time. At last with the silken -folds of a new gown, that I did not know was in my wardrobe, clinging -softly to my excited, trembling form, I reached the point where the -curtain must be drawn. - -“When I awoke the next morning, my head throbbed wildly, my eyes smarted, -while my hands seemed pale and weak. As I staggered from room to room -in search of I don’t know what, strange sights met my gaze; a table in -a bad state of disorder, chairs misplaced and flowers whose heads had -once been held high in the air were now drooping, while many petals were -scattered about the room. An air of desolation hovered in every nook -and corner, the atmosphere seemed stifling, the rays of morning sun -straggled through the half open slats of the window shutters. My heart -was heavier than ever before, the consolation I sought when I thought of -my seducer’s kindness in comparison to my father’s cruel treatment was -of small consequence. I tried to blame my father for the loss of that -which heretofore I had held so holy and sacred, that even the thought of -surrendering it to any man not rightfully possessing it had never entered -my innocent mind. I went to the little nursery and there in the morning -light, my baby was slumbering in perfect peace, no trial, no sorrow, no -temptation had as yet come to the pure infantile heart. - -“The following nights for a fortnight were only repetitions of the acts -of the night just described. I learned to sleep by day, and as the shades -of evening gathered, shutting out the glaring light of the setting sun, -I would find myself engaged with my toilet, endeavoring to appear at my -best, for my friend took great pains to compliment me on my personal -appearance, consequently my pride knew no bounds. - -“Every night he spent with me fondling me as a child does a new toy, and -why not? Was I not a new plaything for this man of millions? - -“I had lost interest in my baby, so much so, that I would not see her -for days at a time, leaving her to the care of a nurse girl. I had given -up hope of ever seeing Harry again, and cared little about him. He had -willfully wronged and deserted me, he was a thing of the past to my -frivolous mind. If I became blue and depressed, I would have the maid -bring me a bottle of wine from the well stocked cellar. But all this must -end. A change such as the frailties of humanity seek, is sure to come. I -grew tired of the solitude that I had to contend with; I was a prisoner. -One day I told my friend that I wanted to travel some. - -“‘All right,’ said he, ‘I am going to Chicago, I start in two days, get -ready and make the trip with me.’ - -“I was wild and in my delight I threw my arms around his neck and thanked -him. It was agreed that we should spend one more night in the house -where we had known so many pleasures before departing. That night of all -nights, we had a sumptuous dinner, wine, cordials, everything that two -happy, healthy people could indulge in. It was on that occasion that I -fully concluded that I could not live without him, and discovered that -things which I had hitherto loathed and despised, I now looked upon as a -part of my daily existence. - -“The city was reached in due time. The first day here was given to rest, -then a round of sightseeing which fairly dazzled me. I had never given -much thought as to the immensity of Chicago, and it is little wonder that -my unsophisticated mind was overcrowded with the many things that were on -every hand for it to feed upon. - -“It was after ten days of revelry, during which time we went to every -place of entertainment, both high and low, that this city contains, that -my mind for the first time reverted to my baby, and then to Harry. Not -that I cared for him still, but I was seized with a fit of curiosity. -About this time horse racing began here at Washington Park track, and -as my friend and admirer was in that business, I, too, became very -enthusiastic in the sport. Every day I could be seen in a box, the most -lavishly gowned woman at the ring side. I had money and tips, and being -full of the blood that tingles with feverish excitement when anything -is at stake, I quickly and easily became the best known woman among the -talent which frequents the race course; I wagered and won and lost with -the same confiding nonchalance. I cared nothing for the money, for I -knew not the value, but I was filled with the true desire to be able -to pick the winner. At last the season ended, but not until a certain -influential and wealthy man of this city managed to fall desperately in -love with me, and as he was young, handsome and clever I must admit that -the fickle goddess who waves the magic wand over such affairs succeeded -in convincing me that my California friend had faded some, the glamour -seemed to have receded, but honesty and gratitude had not yet been -completely eliminated from my sinful soul, and it was with real tears and -sobs that I told him that I had learned to love the younger man. His -reply only verified statements which I had heard made in regard to him, -being that he was always cool, even at the betting stand. He would lose -or win a fortune without a change of countenance. - -“‘But his reply.’ - -“‘Oh, yes,’ he simply said, ‘all right, the season is ended, I am through -with you, anyway.’ Then taking my hand in his, he said good-bye and -departed. - -“Then began the new life. Oh, how easy the second step! Rather than -dread it, I looked forward to the completing of the arrangements with -pleasure. My new suitor knew my past history except that I had a child. -We took elegant apartments, and he spent the greater portion of his -time with me. We were very congenial companions; for months this life -continued; at last the existence became monotonous to me. I began to long -for something, I knew not what. I often found myself thinking of my past -life, my childhood home and my child—the memory of whom I had allowed -to go almost entirely out of my mind. One day Mr. Eddy came to see me -and found me weeping; he questioned me and then I told him of my baby, -and God bless him, he insisted on my sending for her, which I did. He -arranged it all for the nurse to come to me and in seven days my little -girl was in my arms. I then became possessed of a new feeling, such, I -think, as only a mother can experience. I felt as if I must change my -mode of living, but how? To go to my father meant to be turned away and -the burden was double when the care of a baby and earning a living were -both to be considered. Again I put the matter before my friend; he was -kindness itself and proposed to marry me and be the father that my child -needed. I gladly accepted his offer, but before we could be legally -married, it was necessary for me to obtain a divorce from Harry. We took -the first steps in that direction, one of which was to advertise as the -law specified, and lo and behold! the advertisement had an unlooked for -effect. It brought Harry from his long silence. He found me and we talked -the matter over with my husband to be. It was at this meeting that I -learned the cause of Harry’s action. He told us as follows: - -“Our old California friend had induced him to bet his every cent on -certain races on the day he came home with the crowd, and he had lost -all. Then in order to retrieve his losses he was advised to become a -forger in order to get more money with which to again play the races. -It was the same old story, he lost, then for fear of punishment he left -the country. I then told him all. Oh, how sorry I felt for poor Harry! -After exchanging ideas, we became convinced that it was all a plot of -the kind old man in California to get me in his clutches. After we were -assured of that, Harry asked me to promise not to go further with divorce -proceedings until he saw me again. I promised him. I also promised him -not to receive a penny from the man who now wanted to marry me, and as I -could not live as I had been, with my child under the same roof, we left. -I sold my handsome gowns, and jewelry, furnished this poor little home -and baby and I have lived here since. - -“‘But Harry, where is he?’ - -“‘In the State’s Prison of California.’ - -“‘Ah, he was caught at last and punished for forgery.’ - -“‘No, when he left me he went to California and killed my traducer, he is -serving a term of ten years for manslaughter, and I am waiting for him.’” - - - - -TALE SEVEN. - -MY LOVER’S BEQUEST. - -TWO WOMEN. - - “I know two women and one is chaste, - And cold as the snows on a Winter waste, - Stainless ever in act and thought - A cruel tongue and a jealous mind. - (As a man, born dumb, in his speech errs not), - But she had malice toward her kind, - Void of pity and full of greed, - She judges the world by her narrow creed; - A brewer of quarrels, a breeder of hate, - Yet she holds the key to ‘Society’s’ gate. - - The other woman with heart of flame, - Went mad for love that marred her name; - And out of the grave of her murdered faith, - She rose like a soul that has passed through death. - Her aims are noble, her pity so broad, - It covers the world like the mercy of God, - A soother of discord, a healer of woes, - Peace follows her footsteps wherever she goes, - The worthier life of the two no doubt, - And yet ‘Society’ locks her out.” - - -“You ask me why my house is so gorgeously furnished, why the music, why -the beautiful young women lounging about? You say the oriental splendor -reminds you of what your ideas have always been as to the making of a -typical harem. I do not blame you. Men are very apt to make more serious -mistakes than you have made in this instance. Would you like to see my -girls? You would, eh?” - -As this tall, dignified woman completed her monologue, she touched an -ivory button on the side of the mahogany secretary in front of which -she was seated. The silence which followed the closing of her remarks -was broken only by the sounds of sweet strains of music, which floated -through this spacious house on one of the notable streets of the -“Tenderloin” district of Chicago. - -I sat and quietly waited for the response, which I knew would come at -the touch of that bell. A description of the interior of that palace -is beyond my power, and had I tried to take mental notes, I would have -failed completely, for I felt the steady gaze of her blue eyes upon me -so strong that I could not center my mind on anything but the woman. In -spite of the fact that she was not more than thirty-five years old, her -hair was silvery gray; her eyes were bright, her skin soft and fair; a -smile of natural sincerity helped to light the sweet face, adding an -expression to the pink and white that would cause any man to become a -close observer, if not an admirer, of the woman, even without making -a more scrutinizing survey of her many other charms. The poise of her -head, the full, round neck, the broad, yet plump shoulders, the long, -beautifully moulded arm and tapering fingers, served to attract a -reasonable share of attention from the heaving bosom and slender waist -of my hostess. My going over process was interrupted by a merry laugh, -which caused my fair entertainer to rise, then with the grace and dignity -of a queen, she presented to me the entire coterie of new comers, who -constituted the bevy of young ladies which came into the room. - -I was at once convinced that all the income of this house was not spent -on the furnishings, for each young woman was gowned in a manner befitting -the occasion. Some music and a few songs occupied the next fifteen or -twenty minutes, during which time I used my eyes with as much of a -critical air as was possible. Presently I told the lady of the house that -I wished to talk with her in person before I made further acquaintance -with any of the inmates of her rendezvous. The hint was sufficient, and -we were soon alone. - -“Well,” said she pleasantly. - -“Yes, I want to talk privately with you.” - -“Proceed.” - -“But, had we not better retire to some private room where we will not be -in danger of being disturbed?” - -“This house is mine; we will not be interrupted here,” she said sweetly. - -“Thank you. Then I will tell you what I want. I am looking for facts and -wish you to give me the entire history of your life.” - -The smile of anticipation faded into a look of remorse, that expression -in turn was followed by an inquisitive look which told me that the woman -was feigning misunderstanding. - -“Yes,” I continued, “I want to know how you happened to be here.” The -fair cheeks flushed, the intelligent brow wrinkled, while hard lines were -plainly visible around her mouth, as I finished the sentence. - -“It may be a long story,” said the woman, as she gazed at the bright -buckles on the dainty slippers which encased her feet. - -“I am willing to listen if you will be kind enough to tell me all,” said -I. - -“My early life was devoid of anything more than most girls are called -upon to endure. At the age of twelve I lost my mother, at fifteen death -claimed my father, then I went to live with a maiden aunt in Columbus, -Ind. I was poor, very poor. As I now look back and view the past, I -wonder that I was able to continue my studies until I graduated with -high honors, but I did and the day I was seventeen my greatest heights -of happiness were scaled, for it was on that eventful day that my -youthful lover, Jamie Harris and I became engaged with the consent of my -auntie, provided, however, we would not think of marriage until Jamie -had finished his course at college, which he was taking at the State -University, located at Bloomington, Ind. We two young lovers, eager in -our happiness, consented to the plans which my spinster relative laid for -us. Jamie was twenty; he had two more years in the regular collegiate -course, then a professional course of some sort and we would be ready to -take up life’s journey. - -“Meanwhile, I bided my time, looking forward to the longed for event with -anticipation in every way worthy of the reward. One long year dragged -along; I cared for no one, thought of nothing but to dream of Jamie. -All the little details of ‘love in a cottage’ had been thoroughly gone -over, and directed, I, in my own mind, trying to find some method of -improvement on the time worn ethics of a wife’s duty. - -“When morning came I busied myself with the affairs of my aunt’s humble -home, which I, too, had known as my only shelter for years. I moved with -the spirit of love. I became mechanical in doing things while I drew on -my imagination to such an extent, that at times I almost fancied that it -was our home (Jamie’s and mine), and that I was serving him. I planned -and thought so much of how I would always have his slippers ready, and -papers and cigars, for he smoked. Oh, all the dreams made me so happy and -contented. - -“It was the beginning of the second year that I received an invitation to -visit a friend in Franklin, Ind., a near-by town. During my stay there -I met many and made scores of friends; it was then that I realized how -closely my life and Jamie’s had become cemented together. I saw the world -as I had never before known it to exist; I was the recipient of many -favors at the hands of my new friends. If I failed to write to Jamie as -often as I had done, he excused me by saying in his letters that he was -glad I was having a good time. Theaters, drives, parties, dinners, etc., -to the fulfillment of my fondest hopes. More excitement than I had ever -expected to know. - -“The friend whom I was visiting was a few years my senior, and when I -explained to her that I was engaged and suggested that it might not -be good form for me to receive the attentions of a certain young man, -who insisted on occupying most of my time, she only laughed and said I -had lots to learn. She then gave me much information along the lines -of society conventionalities. She was my best friend. I heard all she -said and allowed myself to put too broad a construction on her words. I -allowed words to be poured into my ears that changed the feeling which I -had had for poor Jamie. My new admirer was rich, handsome and gallant and -much admired by all the girls of ‘the set.’ - -“True to the expectation of those girls, I seemed to win Francis Winslow. -He had no eyes for any but me. Things drifted along until the time came -for my home going, then all on account of his persuasions, I remained a -week longer than my allotted time. When I arrived home I received several -letters from Jamie and a severe scolding from my aunt. The letters dated -back ten days; the tone of the oldest one was the same sweet, endearing -sentiment, which had always made his messages so precious, but as I sat -reading through the many pages, I perceived as I thought a coldness -(though I know now it was love’s anxiety). The last two hurt me; they -referred to things which I could not account for his knowing. Finally -the closing of the last letter said, ‘If not too busy flirting with your -friend, Winslow, please answer.’ - -“It was more than my young heart could bear. I did not know then that I -was just looking for some excuse for stinging him and now it had come. -I had never flirted; I had met Mr. Winslow under proper conditions and -circumstances. He had always been courteous to me. I had been true to -Jamie, though my love had faltered. Next day’s mail brought a letter to -my aunt and one to me; the one to aunt was from Jamie. I do not know what -it contained, but it was of such a nature that she heaped a tirade of -abuse on me. - -“‘Just to think!’ said she. ‘I’ve worked and done for you all these -years and tried to raise you decent, and done all this for my poor dead -sister’s sake, and when I’ve got you fit to marry a good man, you go and -spoil it all by takin’ up with a fop you nor the Lord don’t know nothin’ -about.’ - -“The letter which I had tucked away in my bosom was from Mr. Winslow. -It stated that he was going to visit in this city and he would be glad -to have me join him. ‘I know,’ it said, ‘that you will have to invent -some excuse for your absence from home, but that can be arranged by your -saying you met my cousin, while in Franklin, and she will write you soon, -asking you to spend a week with her in Chicago. She is the wife of a -railroad man and will send you transportation.’ - -“My mind was quickly made up; I would not stand my aunt’s abuse and -Jamie’s insults. If Mr. Winslow liked me, as he said, he would probably -propose to me and we would get married, ‘so there now.’ That letter was -followed two days later by one from Mr. Winslow’s cousin, enclosing -a ticket, which auntie did not know from a pass. The invitation was -pressing and I came here.” - -“But go on,” said I, as the long pause seemed to add solemnity to the -stillness. “Tell me more of Jamie, of Winslow and of this,” said I, with -a wave of my hand, indicating the interior of the spacious house. - -“Be patient,” she said, and then continued. - -“Winslow met me at the station, then it was a ceaseless round -of theaters, dinners and other amusements, which were new to my -unsophisticated mind. His cousin was a myth. The woman who claimed to be -his relative was none other than a hireling, who did all in her power to -assist him in entrapping me. The speed with which I fell was something -terrific; the bottomless pit of Hell was not very far away and I was an -easy victim to the seductive plans of my pretended friend. The scene of -my defamation is still fresh in my mind. It seems but yesterday, since -he called for me at the home of the supposed cousin. Oh, the blackness -of that night as it now appears to me, is only intensified and made more -dismal, when I think of the lights, the gay music, the finely arrayed -women and the entrancing wine; it was a long night of song and revelry, -only to end in the beginning of a long day of miserable, torturing, -painful existence. That fortress of purity, which is all a girl has -upon which she can rely at all times, was stormed. The excitement, the -glittering lights, and the enchanting environment added such argument -as the man lacked in his make up. I suppose I was an easy victim, wine -dulled my senses to such an extent that, as God is my judge, I was not -wholly responsible for my acts; when morning came I awoke and knew that -the great white star of virginity, which I had heretofore followed, had -been transformed into a dull leaden aspect, which would only bespeak for -me sullen misery and degradation.” - -“Where did it all happen?” - -“Right here in this house,” sighed the woman. - -“Here, and you have lived here ever since?” - -“No, at least not all of the time; after a few days of sobbing, longing -for the old life and for Jamie returned to me. Then the horrible fact -that I could never return to Jamie confronted me. Oh, what was I to do? -With nothing in view and no aim in life, I returned to my aunt’s home -only to be told that I could get out and ‘shift for myself.’ ‘This ain’t -no home for no good for nuthin’ strumpet like you; clear out, I say! You -ungrateful hussy.’ - -“If you will excuse me I will not detail to you the feelings of pain -which I endured as stings from her lash. It is quite enough to be -compelled to live through such periods without being called upon to -recite them in after years. - -“From there I went to the home of the friend in whose house I had met -Mr. Winslow, then with that feeling of trust and confidence, I told -her all; she blandly stated that she was sorry, but that I should have -known better. Oh! that bitter sting, and from this woman, who could have -taken me in her arms and heard my sobs, that act alone, I think, would -have consoled me some; but no; she who could have replaced me upon the -pedestal from which all women shine, said, ‘Well, run along now, I must -dress for Mrs. ⸺’s reception. Maybe some day I will talk it all over with -you.’ - -“‘But, oh, please hear me! just a little. Help me,’ I begged. - -“‘I will see; I heard of some one who wanted a good girl, and I will try -to find out, for you see, Lillian, you could do housework.’ - -“Bah! ruined, turned into the street, scorned, too miserable to live, -afraid to die. - -“I was not too good, nor too proud to work, but that was not what my -heart yearned for; pity, love, sympathy, a kind look, a gentle touch -would have done much to heal my troubled mind. I came back to Chicago. I -went to Mr. Winslow’s cousin; she told me the cold, hard, cruel truth. -I had been enticed to the city for the one purpose of gratifying the -amorous desire of Mr. Winslow. The truth had long ago forced itself upon -me, but the confession by the woman who had assisted in the plot made me -desperate. - -“What to do? Where to go, were the questions. Home I had none; true -friends were far away and unknown things to me. The lake! Oh, at last a -friend, who could receive me in all my sorrow and shame, a refuge which -never failed to take suffering humanity into its safe retreat, giving -solace to all pain. Yes, I would write to my aunt and Jamie; I would -confess to them what I was afraid to confront God with. My plans were -all completed; I had one dollar to my name, enough to pay for a night’s -lodging at some fairly respectable hotel. There I could write to them, -and then when all was quiet, steal out to the pier and * * * then.” - - * * * * * - -“Four o’clock next morning I was ready. I stole out of the hotel, wended -my way to the nearest place where I could walk far out on the timbers -which projected into the moaning water. No hesitancy on my part; I -deliberately tied the cord which I had brought around my skirts, let my -hair down, so that the long plaits hung below my waist, then pressing -the locket, (this locket) which contained my father’s miniature, to my -lips, I leaped as far out as I could. - -“Down, down, below the gurgling waters, up to the surface, then down -again, with just a faint dreamy view of the lights on Michigan avenue, -then all was dark, all I could see was Jamie, as I felt myself being -pulled along by some irresistible force. I only remember saying, -‘Good-bye, Jamie.’” - - * * * * * - -“‘Oh, I think she is alive yet, Capin’,’ was what I heard a voice say -long before I was able to assure the speaker that he was correct. - -“I had been picked up by a fisherman as the boat was starting out for -the day’s haul. I recovered only to suffer more, too miserable to live, -too unfortunate to die. A few days of privation and want brought me to -this house, where I took up the routine life of the other members of the -establishment, and vied with my associates for favors from the opposite -sex. Success was the result of my efforts; I was soon known as a favorite -of the frequenters of the resort; when wine held sway in my brain, I was -glad the fisherman heard the splash of the water. Again, when my brain -was dull from isolation and inactivity, my heart was sad. One evening -the bell rang just as it did this evening; the signal was given for the -‘ladies’ to appear in the parlor, as was the custom when callers were -announced. With ill-feigned pleasure I led the way, being followed by the -other girls. I marched through the hall, across the back parlor, treading -always on soft rugs, my white satin gown flowing in rhythmical time to -the strains of the music; and there amid the scenes of splendor for which -this luxurious establishment was noted I found myself standing face to -face with Jamie. Yes, my own dear, true Jamie. Oh, forgive me, sir, for -this expression of feeling, but again to live those moments of delirious -joy, mingled with fear and anticipation, is more than I can bear. With -one bound I left the other girls far behind me. Swiftly crossing the room -I appealed to him as only a love maddened girl can appeal to the object -of her devotion. - -“Oh, God! what horrible retribution was about to be brought upon me; how -much more was I to suffer and how long would my breath continue to come -in sobbing gasps as I begged and prayed and pleaded with him to take me -in his arms as of old. ‘Jamie, Jamie, my own dear Jamie!’ I cried. ‘Hear -me, see me, touch me! Oh, I beg of you, Jamie, listen. Don’t you know it -is I? It is your Lillian! What, Jamie, don’t you know me?’ - -“In spite of all my entreaties he stood like stone unmoved and unaffected -by anything I said or did. Presently a new thought struck me. I thought -of the cottage and of the roses which Jamie loved so well; then madly -tearing a white rose which I wore on my breast I handed it to him, -begging him to take it. - -“‘Do take it, Jamie,’ I said; ‘it is as pure as I once was. Ah, but then -you loved me, Jamie, and your love was pure, too, was it not? Tell me, -Jamie, tell me, oh, even if you hate me now, tell me in that same soft -voice that I know so well, that you loved me then. The memory of that -love will make me pure again, Jamie, if you will only speak to me again. -Jamie, take this rose; take it, Jamie, for the sake of the memory of -that love which I had for you. I know, Jamie, it’s all my fault; it’s -not your will that I am here; I wronged you cruelly. Don’t you think, -Jamie, that I have suffered enough, or do you still insist on making my -life death?’ All my supplication to him was in vain. He stood with that -firm, determined air which I knew so well, with his hand extended with -palm toward me, as if to push me away as he would some vile, loathsome -creature. He did not speak to me; he seemed to know that he would find -me here. When I had ceased pleading with him he handed me a large white -envelope. With feverish delight I clutched it. As I did so I saw an -inscription upon it. Forgetting my pain, misery and degradation, with a -wild cry I ran to a position near a light. What was it I read? ‘To be -opened after I am gone.’ - -“What, I thought, Jamie going? No! he must not. Then, turning to go back -to Jamie, I was just in time to see him place a pistol to his heart and -fire. He died without a word. The spot over which you see the urn full of -roses is the exact location where Jamie fell. The other girls had left -me. There, bending over him, frantically tearing his garments to see if -I might render him some assistance, the white rose dropped from my dress -where I had carelessly replaced it and became stained with Jamie’s life -blood, making a fitting semblance to the tragedy which had been enacted -in this same house a few months prior, where the spotless character of an -innocent girl had been transformed from pure white to a charred remnant. - -“They took him away. I saw him once more at the morgue; then the officers -took me to a cell; then there was a trial. I was accused of murdering -Jamie and almost convicted, when the thought struck me to send for the -packet which he had placed in my hand. It contained, besides this letter, -which you may read, other things which the letter will make plain: - - “‘My Poor Dear Lillian: As I write this letter I know not what - your fate is, but I fear that something terrible has befallen - you. I start out to find you, if on earth. Since leaving your - old home I have come into a large inheritance, which will - afford me ample means with which to pursue my aim. May God - grant that I may find you pure and unstained, and that I shall - be able to take you to my bosom; that we may be allowed to - enjoy the fruits which have fallen to us as two lovers should - enjoy life. - - “‘Yours lovingly, - - ‘JAMIE.’ - - “‘Later.—I have discovered you. My love is buried in sorrow; - I have nothing to live for, no ambition, no soul, no heart. - I have but one request, which is as follows: You will find - enclosed negotiable papers to all the wealth which I possess. - It is yours; the same as my life has been yours. I want you - to take it and spend it in saving the blossoms of this earth. - I have yet enough confidence in you to cause me to believe - that if the circumstances were conducive to honor and purity - that you would court the same with the ambition and zeal which - is a part of your nature. I leave the method of restitution - entirely in your hands; only asking you in closing to put - forth your every effort to snatch the burning brands from the - fiery furnace which is ever ready to engulf the innocent, - unsophisticated representative of purity. - - “‘As ever yours, - - JAMIE.’ - -“Well,” said I, as I handed the letters back to the woman, “do you make -much money here? I suppose you had a good time while Jamie’s cash lasted?” - -“Jamie’s cash is still lasting,” said she. - -“You don’t mean to tell me that you have the heart to support this place -as a house of ill-repute by spending poor Jamie’s money in that way?” - -“Bless your heart, no. I own this property, a monument to Jamie’s pure -devotion and good intentions. It not only serves to remind me of where -I last looked upon him alive, thereby making the associations more -pleasant, but also keeps fresh in my mind the night that I leaped in the -darkness and landed into the mire of debauchery.” - -“Do your girls know your story?” - -“In part, yes.” - -“Do they enjoy the existence of soiled doves?” - -“But, my dear sir, they are not soiled doves; they are brands which I -have snatched from the burning.” - -“Then this is not a house of⸺” - -“No, sir! This is an harbor of restitution, where souls may be anchored -to hope, where hope fills the heart with a longing for better and purer -things; a home where I am trying to atone for my own misdeeds.” - - - - -TALE EIGHT. - -THE VICTIM OF A DRUG. - - “Blank the mind, sad the heart, - Supple the form, sweet the face; - Pure the soul, sold on the mart, - To suffer ever in vile disgrace. - - “Neither bended knees, - Pure hands held out, - Sad sighs, deep groans, nor - Silvery-shedding tears, - Could penetrate the uncompassionate shout - That, in spite of all, fell on her bloodless ears.” - - -“I am sorry,” said the girl, “that you have concluded to abandon the -detective business, for I am sure that you accomplished much good while -thus engaged.” - -If I had not been attracted by the strong personality of the speaker I -should have been favorably impressed with the sincerity of her tone. She -was pale, very pale; her eyes were large and brown. As she spoke she -gazed on me with the languid expression so in keeping with one of great -volume of earnestness. Her nose was thin; I might say drawn and pinched; -her lips as red as cherries, parted slightly as the soft words left them, -showing a mouth full of regular, well-kept teeth. The forehead was not -higher than the ordinary, but it made a fitting support for the crown -of dark brown hair, which was artistically dressed in a manner to form a -frame about the face, which seemingly did not end at the chin, as most -faces do, but it was possessed of a broadness and deepness of nature -which illumined the pallid cheeks on either side back as far as the -little, thin ears. - -She was not large, neither could she be considered under size, not -altogether on account of her stature, which might have seemed diminutive -to the eye in search of physical development, but rather because the -intelligence which this creature possessed seemed to reach out and -permeate every nook and corner of the lavishly furnished parlor. - -“I thank you for your kindly allusion and feel that if I have been the -cause of good that there must have been some good enveloped in the -subjects with which I had to deal during my professional career. In -pursuance of the fact that good may come from good, I have retired from -the secret service business and am now preparing a work which will be -largely based upon the experience of former days. I find it necessary for -me to glean from others some of the facts of their lives in order that -I may not digress from the truth and that the twenty stories that will -compose my book may be hinged upon different modes of existence, hence my -call upon you to-day. - -“I well remember the last words you uttered when I left you in a -convalescent condition in the hospital: ‘If I can ever serve you, command -me.’ I am not here to command you, but to ask you for your life’s story.” - -“And did you know, Mr. Spencer, that if you are put in possession of the -facts as they exist, that you will have something which the world knows -nothing of?” - -“I trust, however, that you will place in me the confidence of your -history.” - -“But what time in life do you desire that I begin?” - -“I want you to tell me how you happened to come to Chicago before I ever -met you.” - -At this request the woman seemed to draw herself together and with a -movement of her figure that impressed me as a straightening out process, -she began by saying: - -“I came to Chicago when I was sixteen. I came to visit my aunt. It was -during my last year in high school. I don’t believe I had ever known -what love was. I had lost my mother when an infant. My father was a -stereotyped business man, with so many affairs to keep his mind employed -that he evidently did not have the time nor inclination to take me in -his arms and show me any devotion whatever. I had two brothers, both -of them several years my senior, and by the time I was old enough to -appreciate the brotherly protection and love which their existence might -have afforded me they were married. True, I had my school day episodes of -note writing and had indulged in the blissful pastime of a few kissing -parties, but never the full realization of loving caresses. - -“I had been in the city three days when I met a young man. I was quick -to listen to his avowal of love. It seemed to bring to me new joys; it -directed my feet into newer and brighter paths of life and all wound -up with an elopement and a marriage, after which I wrote to my father -for his blessing and, as I have since learned through the influence of -my step-mother, received his curse. His cold letter informing me that -if I wished to return to the old home and continue in my studies as I -had suggested, that he would certainly offer no objection, as I was now -mistress of my own affairs, and if I chose to continue in school he could -see no reason why I should not do so, as the school house still remained. -Of course, I didn’t go. I fell ill and this necessitated the absence of -my husband from his duties for such a long time that he lost his position. - -“When I regained my health I set out to find employment, and met with -partial success. That is, I could have the position on conditions, one -of them being that I was not married and that I would not marry while in -their employ. I was compelled to sign an affidavit to that effect. - -“The position which I obtained seemed to me of little importance. -I was reception lady in the office of a coterie of physicians, who -announced themselves on gayly printed circulars as the medical staff of -a certain institution, each one being a specialist in treating different -afflictions. My duties required me to report at the office at 10 in the -morning and remain there until 4 in the afternoon. I went along in the -even tenor of my way for six months, during which time my husband was -searching for employment. He came to me one day, the first time that he -had been in the office since my entrance there, to tell me that he had a -position offered him, but that he must acknowledge that he was married, -as the gentleman who wished to employ him could not engage a single man. - -“Our work was to consist of caring for an invalid who was kept in a -beautiful cottage in the outskirts of the city. - -“We fully considered the conditions, terms, etc., and decided to accept -the trust. I gave notice to my employers that I should leave, but agreed -to remain one week through courtesy. Three days before I was to leave a -gentleman of middle age, one who often came to the office and held long -consultations with one or two members of the staff and frequently went -away with them, came out of the private office of one of the physicians -and approached me, saying: ‘Much to my regret, I have just learned that -you are about to leave the establishment. I have a little gift here which -I wish to give you in consideration of your kind treatment of me during -my many calls.’” - -As the girl’s voice fell and ended in a soft monotone she drew from -her bosom a little chamois pouch and took from that a ring set with a -beautiful diamond. - -“And this,” she said, as she touched it with her lips, while the tears -which gleamed in her eyes outshone the gem itself, “this I have kept.” - -“I suppose there must be some little sentiment clinging to the bitter -cruelty which makes it as precious to you as the sweet violets are to the -lover of dainty flowers.” - -“Yes,” she said, “the fact that I have kept this ring is, in part, the -reason of my long suffering, but as it was given to me, according to my -belief, in purity, I kept it in memory of the thoughts which emanated -from my heart when I took it. My mind was as pure then as the gem itself. -If I have become contaminated by adversity I can proudly say that this -gleaming white stone, on account of its flinty hardness, has escaped the -fire of degradation. - -“It was five days subsequent to our going to the cottage that my husband -and I were seated on the veranda of our little cottage, congratulating -ourselves on having secured such an easy position and liberal -compensation for the light services rendered. - -“‘I wonder,’ said Dan, ‘why the old gentleman doesn’t take her to some -private hospital, where she could receive proper medical attention, as -well as the benefit of trained nurses?’ - -“‘But you know, dear,’ said I, ‘that a rich man does not like to have -his daughter in an asylum; and besides I don’t think we should complain, -because the care of this poor girl is not a great burden and her -unbalanced condition serves for us to be together all the time.’ - -“‘Yes, I know,’ said Dannie; ‘but I can’t stand it to hear her moan and -weep the way she does. Sometimes in the night when I am but half asleep -her screams and groans disturb me so that I get to dreaming somehow or -other that it is you who are locked up in that horrible but softly padded -room. It is so real that it is like a nightmare, and finally, as I fancy -myself struggling against a wall trying to free you, with a mighty lunge -I awake, and while I then know it is only a dream I am dripping with cold -perspiration. My nerves are all unstrung, and I feel just like reaching -over and taking you in my arms and running away, leaving the old man and -his crazy daughter far behind.’” - -“Then it really was a crazy girl you had to care for?” - -“Oh, yes. You see, this old gentleman had married years ago. I remember -how he told us all about it. How his sweet young wife had been killed -in a railroad accident and his little daughter went raving mad when her -mother’s mangled form was brought home to her. And he seemed to be doing -all he could to make the poor demented creature happy.” - -At this she laughed discordantly. It seemed so out of place to me, for to -look at her and hear her voice was to be inspired with a sense of harmony. - -“I left my chair and went over to him. I crawled up into his lap and -nestled my face against his. ‘You mustn’t dream that way, dear,’ said I. -‘It is bad for you, and besides you know I am always by your side.’ - -“One day when I had gone to the city to do some shopping the man who had -engaged my husband came out to the cottage to have a talk with him. When -I came home I found my husband all excitement. - -“‘What in the world is the matter with you?’ said I. ‘Mr. Leighton was -here to-day and he wants me to leave you in direct charge of things here -while I go out West and look after his interests in the oil fields.’ He -had given him a week in which to decide whether or not he would go, but I -could see that Dannie feared to refuse. I cried and clung to him, for I -couldn’t bear to be separated from him; so he decided not to go. - -“When he went to the city to meet Mr. Leighton and give him his decision -Mr. Leighton was quite haughty and seemed offended. He as good as told -Dan that if he did not go he would have to find some one else to go to -the cottage and take care of the invalid. - -“Dan came home thoroughly disheartened. I tried to cheer him and said -maybe I could go with him, but he said no, he had asked Mr. Leighton -about that and he had very decidedly said that it would not do. We talked -it all over quietly and the question resolved itself into a matter of -dollars and cents. If Dan refused to go we must give up the cottage, and -that meant all our income. If he went he would be well paid in addition -to the amount we received for the care of the cottage. So we decided that -it was best for him to go and we would try and save enough money to start -in business. - -“After Dannie left I took up the duties of nurse, for which I was not -altogether unfitted, being patient and persevering. - -“Mr. Leighton’s daughter was as frail as a lily, and when I took her -meals in to her I used to sit and watch her and wonder how she lived, for -she ate almost nothing. - -“I concluded it must be the medicine which she took in the wine that gave -her the little vitality she possessed. - -“She rarely noticed me and I am sure my coming and going was of no -interest to her. She was not often violent these days; on the contrary, -she was very tractable. - -“Two weeks had passed since Dannie left and I had had three letters from -him, all of which breathed of his love and devotion to me and bade me -be cheerful, that the time would soon pass and we would be reunited. No -word had been received from Mr. Leighton yet, and I was just wondering -what had become of him when the bell rang. When I was called down to the -parlor whom should I meet but the kind gentleman who gave me the ring, -Mr. Price. - -“‘I am ever so glad to see you,’ said I; but I don’t believe my tones -half expressed my feelings, for I was so lonely there, all alone with -that poor girl, with only the servants for companions. Our cottage was -built in the center of a large plot of ground, and there were no houses -very near us. Mr. Leighton told Dan that he had built the house that way -purposely, so Lita’s ravings would not disturb the neighbors. - -“‘How in the world did you happen to come here, Mr. Price?’ said I. - -“‘Well, you see—I—I am Lita’s father.’ - -“‘Why, what do you mean? Lita’s father’s name is Mr. Leighton.’ - -“‘Yes, I know; but I can explain it all to you in a few moments. It is -such a terrible thing, I could not endure to have it generally known that -my daughter was hopelessly insane, so when I arranged to have her brought -here I decided it was best to have her known as Lita Leighton.’ - -“‘Oh, yes,’ said I, ‘it must be very terrible to have such a misfortune -befall a member of one’s family; but you surely couldn’t call it a -disgrace.’ - -“‘Well, perhaps not; but, you know, it would injure my business if it -were known. But what are you doing here?’ he said. - -“‘Why, I am Dannie’s wife.’ - -“He seemed to be greatly surprised, and asked me why I did not tell him -long before. I told him that I could not occupy the position which I -held when he first met me if it had become known that I was married. I -followed on with my whole life’s story, and he shed tears at my recital -of woes and my father’s unkind treatment. - -“‘How I should have cherished such a beautiful daughter,’ said he, and -came over to my chair, bent over and kissed me. ‘Won’t you be a daughter -to me in place of my poor demented Lita?’ - -“My heart went out to him then and there, and I put my arms around his -neck and kissed him. - -“By and by we went in to see Lita. At the sight of her father and me she -ran into the furthest corner and no amount of coaxing could induce her to -come out. Finally he asked me to leave him alone with her. Just as I was -leaving I saw him give her her medicine. - -“‘Oh,’ I exclaimed, ‘it is not time to give her that yet.’ - -“‘It is harmless enough,’ he said, closing the door. - -“He remained in her room an hour or more and left the house soon after. -At parting he said: ‘I shall come out often now, because I have two -daughters instead of one to visit.’ - -“That night Lita was very violent. She shrieked and moaned most -pitifully. My heart ached for her, but I did not dare to go to her while -she was in such a state. - -“At last she fell asleep, I suppose, for she ceased her ravings. When I -took her breakfast to her the following morning I found her prone upon -the floor, with hands clinched together as if in mortal agony. I was -horror-stricken. I had never seen her like this before and had never -heard that she had spells like this. - -“She looked like death, and without regard to the strict orders we had -had, never to call in a stranger, I fairly flew to the nearest doctor’s -office. - -“He responded at once, and after heroic treatments revived her. He asked -to see the medicine we had been giving her. I showed it to him and he -examined it critically, then looked grave. - -“‘This is a drug which should not be administered except in an extreme -case and then only in small doses,’ he said. - -“Then I explained to him how her father had been there and how Lita had -acted, and that it must have been necessary or he would not have given -it. He told me I must not give her any more of it for three days and at -the end of that time he would call again. - -“After he had gone I went in to see Lita and she seemed brighter than -I had ever seen her. On the evening of the second day she showed real -interest in things and had a good appetite. There was a faint tinge of -red in her cheeks and she was almost pretty. - -“She asked me who I was and what my name was. - -“‘I am your nurse, and you have been very ill, but are getting better -now,’ said I, ‘and my name is quite a little like yours; it is Anita.’ - -“I was so delighted at her apparent improvement that I determined to -write her father the good news, but on second thought concluded I would -not, as he had said he would come out often. - -“On the third day the doctor called and was greatly pleased at his -patient’s progress. ‘Just continue to give her this tonic and keep the -other away from her,’ said he. - -“‘I think you had better not tell her father what we have done if he -calls soon; better wait a couple of weeks and surprise him.’ - -“Then I thought of my orders not to call in a stranger and told the -doctor about it. He passed the matter by as a trifle, saying: ‘They -probably feared the excitement.’ - -“Two weeks passed and no Mr. Leighton and no word from Dannie. I was -getting desperate at Dannie’s neglect and telegraphed him. The telegram -came back, so I knew it had not found him. Mr. Leighton came the same -afternoon and found me a pitiful looking object. My eyes were red and -swollen with weeping. - -“‘What is the matter with you, little daughter?’ said he, kissing me on -each cheek. - -“I told him about Dannie and he begged me not to worry; that he was -probably out of town in the oil fields and too busy to write. - -“We went in together to see Lita, and she acted as she had done on the -previous occasion when he called. He did not stay long with her, but -devoted most of his time to me, trying to cheer me up, which he certainly -knew how to do. He remained to dinner and brought out some of the wine -which we kept for Lita’s use. - -“After dinner I felt so drowsy that I laid down and he covered me up -carefully and told me to take a good sleep; that he would take a late -train to the city. - -“That was the last innocent sleep I had. When I awoke, in the night, -I was undressed and in bed. I could not think where I was, and when I -turned I thought Dannie was there and I put my arms about him. - -“When morning came—ah! how can I tell it?” she said shuddering. “When -morning came—well, I knew I was no longer what I had been—a true wife.” - -“Mr. Leighton was very tender to me and tried to soothe my feverish -unrest, and after awhile I passed into a quiet slumber. When I awoke I -was alone. It was late in the afternoon and I thought with a start of -Lita. - -“When I entered her room she came toward me with outstretched arms. - -“‘I am so glad to see you, Anita,’ she said. ‘Where have you been all -this time? If you had not locked me in so securely, I should have found -you before this time.’ She pulled me down on her cot and said: ‘I want to -tell you something.’ - -“I always indulged her whims, so I sat down beside her. - -“‘You have been so good to me that I have learned to love you, Anita, and -I want you to love me, too; but I have much to tell you, and maybe you -will hate me when you have heard all,’ she said, her lips quivering. - -“I was surprised at her rational manner, yet delighted. I put my arms -around her and said: ‘Tell me all, Lita. I shall not hate you, no matter -how bad it is.’ - -“‘You think I am crazy, but I am not,’ she said, ‘although I have had -enough to make me so in the past two years. My senses have been so -benumbed since I have been here that I don’t know all I have done. I -have had a terrible experience, and my mother is the cause of it all. -Several years ago my father began to speculate; he was a wealthy man -at that time, but with the speculation the trouble began. He became -deeply involved, and when one of his creditors fell on him and demanded -a settlement he collapsed. My mother met the man and he demanded me as -the price of liquidation. Rather than suffer the financial loss and the -disgrace of the penitentiary, which stared my father in the face, my -mother sold my honor, my virtue, my all to this scoundrel who poses as my -father. He took me abroad with him and traveled with me as my husband. He -was ideally kind to me for more than a year, or until he had worn me out -and my health began to fail. Little by little he began to neglect me, and -at last I was furious. One night when he did condescend to come home I -met him at my door with a revolver and told him to take another step at -his peril. This was the beginning of the end. As soon as we returned to -this country he brought me directly to Chicago, where he had me examined -and pronounced of unsound mind. After that he kept me under the influence -of some opiate and the next thing I knew I was here, in this cottage. -It is no wonder I have acted insane, no wonder they padded this room to -keep me from doing myself violence. Every time he came here he gave me -more medicine and then treated me with every indignity possible. I grew -to loathe him and feared the very sight of him. Since this doctor came I -feel so much better, and I am going to get well and punish that vile man.’ - -“I was so filled with dismay I could only gasp: ‘And this man isn’t your -father after all?’ - -“‘No, indeed,’ she said. - -“Well, as you may imagine, my suspicions were aroused; yet I felt, too, -the whole story might be the vagary of her imagination. - -“After thinking it over I resolved to tell Mr. Leighton all. While he -talked to me and I was under his mesmeric influence my suspicions were -lulled to rest and I felt that he was the best and kindest man I had ever -met. - -“One day soon after this I received a telegram stating that Dannie was -dead. I got Mr. Leighton to investigate the matter and he found it was -too true. He had been killed and robbed. For a time I was inconsolable, -and it was then that Mr. Leighton was most tender. When I began to -recover from the blow I wondered why he had not asked me to be his wife, -for he had often told me he loved me better than his life. I waited -several weeks and he said no word, so I finally decided to speak of the -matter myself, thinking he might feel reticent considering my recent -bereavement. - -“When I did muster up courage to speak to him he said: ‘Why, my dear, -when I marry and give a woman my name she must be pure.’ - -“‘And if I am not pure, who is to blame?’ said I, quivering with rage. - -“‘There, there, we won’t talk about it any more,’ said he. - -“He went away and left me in an agony of despair. I went to Lita’s room -and told her the whole story, for I knew she was rational and had told me -the truth. - -“When I had sobbed out all my troubles on her breast she soothed me and -said: ‘Listen, Anita, you will believe me, I am sure, so I will tell you -something. Dr. Snyder, whom you called in that day I was so ill, has -learned to love me. He knows all my story and is willing to marry me. We -were going to run away from here together at the first opportunity. If -you will, you shall go with us. We are going to have a beautiful home on -Drexel Boulevard, and you will be a most welcome guest.’” - -“I suppose this is the place,” said I. “You certainly have a lovely home.” - -“Yes, and Lita has more than repaid me for what I did for her. The -doctor went to the doctors who employed me before we took the cottage -and learned all about his doings. He had him arrested and he is now -languishing in jail. Dannie will be here in three days now. Oh, I am so -happy!” - -“Dannie! Why, I thought you said he was dead?” - -“Oh, you see, that was a part of Mr. Leighton’s nefarious plot. He -intercepted all the letters that passed between Dannie and me and bribed -a man to send that telegram to me; then sent a man to Dannie to prove I -was untrue to him. - -“He seemed to be highly successful in carrying out his plans for a long -time, but you see he was caught in his own toils. - -“Dr. Snyder was so kind that he went out West and searched for Dannie -until he found him and told him all and Dannie forgave everything. He -had invested some of his money in the oil lands there and we will have -plenty of money now, for they turned out well. He was coming to me on the -first train, but the doctor prevailed upon him to stay and finish up his -affairs first, so that he would not lose anything. - -“Just think! only three days more until we are reunited.” - - - - -TALE NINE. - -WHAT HAPPENED TO A GIRL WHO FLIRTED. - - “The thorns which I have reap’d are of the tree - I planted,—they have torn me and I bleed: - I should have known what fruit would spring from such a seed.” - - -“If all girls had as bitter an experience as I had, and all brought about -by their first venture at flirting, I am sure there would be less of it. - -“I had lived in Chicago a number of years, but had been so carefully -reared that I knew absolutely nothing of the snares set for the feet of -the unsophisticated. - -“My parents died within a few weeks of each other and I was left all -alone, so far as near relatives were concerned. After the estate was -settled up and I had recovered from the shock of their death, I was left -to my own devices, and while I had many invitations to make my home with -relatives I decided I should like to be alone for awhile, so I went to -live with a widow and her daughter. I enjoyed my Bohemian life very much, -for it was such a change from the old way of living and I was bent on -making the most of it. I was engaged to a young man from the South at -this time. He was a young man of the highest principles and unimpeachable -honor, and one of whom my parents thoroughly approved. I think mamma felt -quite happy and resigned when she took Will’s hand and placed mine in -it and said: ‘Will, you will take good care of my baby after I am gone, -for I shall leave you all very soon now. I shall die happy if I have your -promise,’ she said faintly. - -“He leaned over her and said: ‘Mother, dear, I promise. Agneta shall -always have my tenderest love and devotion.’ - -“Well, as I was saying, I went to live with this kind family and they -granted me every privilege that I could have had in my own home. Will was -an ideal lover and caretaker; in fact, he was too good, and I was not -sensible enough to appreciate it then. Ah, if I could only live over the -old days once more, things might have been different. One needs to live -three score and ten years before one knows how to live. - -“One day I dressed myself with unusual care, entirely in black, of -course, but it was quite as becoming as any color. I could not have told -why I was so painstaking in making my toilet; it must have been an unkind -fate at work while the angel guardian of my peace and happiness, slept. - -“I bought a few articles at Field’s and ordered them sent out, then went -up to the waiting room on the second floor, where I could look down from -the gallery to the main floor and watch the throng of shoppers. While -I was sitting there I saw a fine looking young man standing near me, -engaged in conversation with some ladies. At the first glance I took -him to be an old acquaintance of mine. He was not very tall, but had -beautiful wavy black hair and eyes of a soft brown. - -“I suppose my gaze, which was a little more ardent than custom would -permit, attracted his attention, for he glanced at me frequently, and as -those things sometimes happen caught my glance every time. I knew by this -time that he was not the acquaintance for whom I had taken him the first -time I looked at him, but his face was so handsome it seemed to fascinate -me, although on a closer inspection it was slightly effeminate. I think -we kept that up for nearly half an hour, but all this time no word was -spoken. I decided that I had better leave, and I arose to go and was soon -lost in the throng. I was walking east on Madison when someone walked up -beside me and tipping his hat said: ‘Pardon me, may I walk with you?’ - -“I was not so disconcerted as I had always supposed a girl must feel -under such circumstances. I looked around and, of course, it was not the -young man, but Will. I was half vexed and treated him very coldly, until -he told me that he had seen me at Field’s and had noticed the conduct of -the man in question who had held my attention so long, and believed he -had evil designs on me. - -“This made me really angry, and I told him that was just like a man to -think that every glance another man bestowed upon the woman he loved was -evil. ‘One would think I had no individuality, no charm of person at all -to hear you talk,’ I said. - -“‘Well, I know the men better than you do, dear; so please be careful, -won’t you? Men never have a good opinion of a woman who will flirt with -them.’ - -“Now, you see, if there is anything a girl hates it is to have her -sweetheart assume superiority over her in knowledge of men; so it all -combined to make me disagreeable. - -“He walked as far as Lyon & Healy’s with me and I went in to buy some -music. He went on back to his office. After I had bought my music I -sauntered into the room where the pianolas are on exhibition and sat down -near the window to listen to the music. It was not long before some one -at my elbow said: ‘How do you do? I have been trying to find you ever -since you left Field’s, and was just despairing when I passed this window -and saw you. Are you enjoying the music?’ - -“I looked up into two brown eyes and my heart fluttered painfully. - -“No, I didn’t feel any remorse yet, for I was still piqued at Will’s -interference with my innocent pastime and what he had said still rankled -in my heart. - -“He sat down and we talked a few moments, and then he suggested that we -walk up to the Auditorium and sit in the parlor, as it would be so much -more quiet there. So I walked up there with him. We had a very pleasant -chat and I thought more and more how ill-timed Will’s remarks were and -how unjust. Why, this man was every bit as much a gentleman as Will -himself. - -“‘Pardon me, but are you not in mourning?’ he asked, noting my black -apparel. ‘As you have probably noticed, I am wearing deep mourning and -perhaps that is why I noticed yours.’ - -“I told him the circumstances, and then he told me he was mourning the -loss of his wife, who had been dead three months. He seemed to feel like -talking of her, so I encouraged him, thinking it might be a relief to -his feelings. He did not say a great deal, except that they were very -happy and she died, leaving a sweet baby girl, who survived her mother -seven weeks. - -“When at last I arose to go he laid a detaining hand on me and said: -‘Allow me to present my card, and will you allow me to call? - -“‘I should like to tell you all about our life, if it will not bore you. -You are such a sympathetic little woman that it will be a great relief to -unburden my heart to you.’ Tears stood in his eyes as he spoke. If there -was anything needed to win me, more than his words, it was those tears. -So, after hesitating a little and alluding to the unconventional manner -in which we met, he said: ‘I know; I can understand how you might feel, -but this is not a day of strict conventionalities, and you know that if -we all waited for a formal introduction we should miss a great deal in -the world. Many of the truest friendships are formed in this way.’ - -“So we decided on the following Wednesday. I suggested that night because -I knew Will would be out of the city on that night. - -“Wednesday night came at last and found me waiting expectantly. I was -delighted at the prospect of doing something a little risque. He came and -I introduced him to my friends and they were very favorably impressed -with him, I could see by their actions. I didn’t tell them how I met him -though. After visiting awhile he asked me if I would not go down town and -have dinner with him, and I thought that would be fine. We drove down -town and stopped in front of a well-known restaurant; that is, well -known to all but the novice. - -“We alighted and were shown to a little room, which I have since learned -was a private dining room. I did not exactly like the idea of being shut -up in a room alone with him at the time, but did not dare comment on the -matter for fear of showing my ignorance. He ordered a nice dinner and -asked me what I would have to drink. I told him I never drank, so he did -not insist on my taking anything, but ordered whiskey for himself. On the -pretext of getting his handkerchief out of his overcoat, which hung back -of me, he passed me and bent over and kissed me. Not a kiss of respect, -but a kiss of vile, lecherous passion, and one, no doubt, intended to -inflame me. I pushed him away from me disgusted and reprimanded him -severely. He apologized and said: ‘You are so sweet, so irresistible I -could not help it.’ - -“After dinner he came over to me again and kissed me. I was very angry -this time and resolved to go home at once. He pushed me down into the -chair and told me I could not go yet. I finally succeeded in rising to -my feet and he sat down in the chair I vacated and pulled me down in his -lap. I struggled to free myself and reached the door. He caught me in -his arms and pressed me to him in a passionate embrace, raining burning -kisses on my face. He subjected me to every indignity that was possible -considering that I was fighting all the time to get away. I tried to -reach the electric bell and summon aid, but he divined my intention -and drew me back. I was afraid to scream for fear of creating a scene -and perhaps getting my name in the paper in connection with such a -scandalous affair. - -“I prayed for deliverance from that man as I never prayed before in all -my life, and promised myself if I got home safely I would never, never -flirt with anyone again. - -“As if in answer to my prayer, a thought flashed across my brain. My hat -pins! They were of very stiff steel, and I snatched one out of my hat -and plunged it viciously into his arm. It broke. I took the other and -struck him with all my strength and that broke and I could not see that -I had hurt him a particle. My strength was fast giving out, and I was in -despair. I feared he would force me to yield that which I would rather -die than part with. But joy! by this time the blood was running down his -arm in a stream. He saw it and let me go. ‘My God! girl! What have you -done? Look at the blood!’ - -“He took off his coat and rolled up his shirt sleeve. His heavy flannel -undershirt was saturated with blood. The pin points had entered the upper -arm with great force and the wounds were bleeding profusely. I felt sorry -when I saw what I had done, and I offered to bind them up for him. He -gave me his handkerchief and I bandaged it up tightly. Then he sat down, -pale and trembling, weak from the loss of blood. I was in about the same -condition from nervousness. He urged me to take a stimulant of some kind, -and I finally consented and took my first drink of whiskey and absinthe. -He told me all about his wife and how happy they had been the one short -year she had been spared to him. He told me how she suffered on her -deathbed and with what fortitude she bore up under it, trying with her -last breath to cheer him and asking him to live for her baby’s sake. - -“The tears rolled down his cheeks and I cried in sympathy. - -“‘My angel wife is dead and her baby—our baby. No one cares for me now -nor what I do. I have lost all my friends since she died and nearly all -my money. I have been drinking and gambling and was in my cups when I -came to you to-night. I would not hesitate a minute to kill myself if it -were not for the fear that I should never meet her in heaven.” - -“‘Do you think what you have done to-night would please her if she can -look down and see you? You deliberately enticed an innocent girl here, -one whom you surely must know was innocent, and for what purpose I can -form but one opinion.’ - -“He went down on his knees beside me and begged my forgiveness. - -“‘Give me one kiss to show me that you forgive me,’ he said. - -“He called the waiter and ordered another drink apiece, which I should -not have taken. It went to my head and when I tried to walk I staggered. -He took me in his arms and that is the last I remember until I felt the -wind blowing on my face. - -“I was leaning against him in the carriage. I did not know where I was -going and I did not care. The thought of Will came to me but dimly. I -felt no compunction, and if I had it would not have aroused me from my -stupor sufficiently to make me active. - -“When I came to my senses I was home, thank heaven! Just as pure as when -I left. They told me I had been brought home ill; had had a sudden attack -of heart failure and had been given something to stimulate me. So much -for the whiskey breath. - -“When Will returned I met him as usual, but with, oh, so much keener -appreciation of his goodness than I had ever felt before. I had had -an experience which taught me his sterling worth. I realized how -unscrupulous men were when they had no interest in a woman beyond that of -a passing fancy. - -“No, I have not told Will. I could not see that it would do any good. I -committed one indiscretion and I think I should commit another if I told -him. He might not forgive me, or, if he did, he would never feel quite -the same toward me, perhaps, and both his happiness and mine would be -ruined. I say ruined, for we are certainly very congenial and I believe -God intended us for each other, and perhaps it was part of His divine -providence that I passed through what I did.” - - - - -TALE TEN. - -SOLD AT A FIXED PRICE. - -TO THINE OWN SELF BE TRUE. - - “By thine own soul’s law learn to live, - And if men thwart thee, take no heed, - And if men hate thee, have no care; - Sing thou thy song and do thy deed. - Hope thou thy hope and pray thy prayer, - And claim no crown they will not give, - Nor bays they grudge thee for thy hair. - - “Keep thou thy soul-sworn, steadfast oath, - And to thy heart be true thy heart; - What thy soul teaches learn to know, - And play out thine appointed part, - And thou shalt reap as thou shalt sow, - Nor helped nor hindered in thy growth, - To thy full stature thou shalt grow. - - “Fix on the future’s goal thy face, - And let thy feet be lured to stray - Nowhither, but be swift to run, - And nowhere tarry by the way, - Until at last the end is won - And thou mayst look back from thy place - And see thy long day’s journey done.” - - -“Dearest Arthur: Sounds strange, does it not, or, perhaps, no sound -escapes your lips as your eyes scan this letter. I write you; you are -surprised, I know, but you should not be, for stranger things than this -have happened. My reasons for writing, I say reasons because they are -numerous, will be divulged either by statements from my pen or by a -critical reading between the lines. - -“You asked me to write, though why you should have done so is more than -I am able to determine. I am sure it was not all love which prompted you -to make the request. I feel that you did at one time love me. No, a man -of your force of character cannot love truly and allow that love to die -while the object of his devotion lives. If you ever loved, you still -love. The only question that remains unanswered is, ‘Am I the only one to -whom your whole heart has gone out?’ Be that as it may, I have concluded -that, wise or unwise, right or wrong, the same untiring love which has -inspired me to worship you, day by day and the long night through, since -first we met, must live on until the words, ‘Dust to dust’ have echoed -through the tall pines and rolling mounds of our Southern city of the -dead, while the clods fall heavily on the rough box that contains my -casket. I feel I could court even death while reveling in the sunshine of -your beauteous love, and smilingly challenge the chords of life to snap -and precipitate me into that unknown beyond, with the memory of your dear -kisses on my cold, blue lips. - -“I feel that way now, when so many leagues separate us, but I presume -that should I be blessed with one smile from you, I should want to live -always. I think one slight token of recognition, one little sign of -memory of the old days, spreading over your features would be food and -drink to me ever. But such joys do not spread themselves on my table of -anticipation. I know not love. I only know what it is to love. I have -hesitated about writing you as I shall before I close. - -“I have wondered if by holding open the bleeding wounds of my breast, -the breast you have made love to, the breast that gave life and strength -to your child, while the thrills of motherhood overcame me even to tears -of joy, would pain you. I have summed it all up and have concluded that -nothing will pain you, so will not hesitate to show to you the every -heart-beat as it forces the blood through the veins which your heartless -acts have drained. Forgive me, darling, if I inflict any injury upon your -feelings by any reference to the past, but then you know your short note -said, ‘Do not conceal a single thought nor withhold one particle of the -emotion with which your voluptuous body abounds.’ I will pour out the -soul that you have penned up. I will account to you for the acts which -you refer to as unladylike. I will bring to your mind new fancies, born -of reflection. I will accuse you of no wrong, for you in your exalted -goodness and influential position must know right from wrong. If I am -wrong, God is just. If He allowed you to misjudge me, I beseech Him to -prevent you from branding another woman with the same iron. While I have -been writing one day has died and another been born. With the passing -of the hour I have passed another milepost. I am now one year older. My -birthday and my baby are the only things I can claim without dispute as -to title. - -“I have been to his bed, the baby’s bed, and shall I tell you—his -father—how sweetly he sleeps, how my burning kisses did not startle him? -You will know whether or not these lips of mine will arouse a man to -his greatest efforts. You, and you alone, have tasted the sweets that I -longed to lavish upon you until satiety was a far away and unknown thing. - -“You said: ‘Write. I am interested in your welfare.’ - -“I believe you, for you fear me as the bleating lamb fears the ravenous -wolf; but fear not, oh, god of mine; you are my child’s father, and for -the gracious act of begetting me an image of thine own self I shall -always be devoted to you. - -“Oh, that I could live on and on into the ages that are only obscured -by oblivion. But no. Face to face with a world, I must accept death as -a charm to enduring existence. You must know, dearest, that I love you, -have always loved you and shall always love you. As I sit and look into -the fire which from great red flames has sunk to an ember glow, I liken -it to your love; for in the manliness of your youthfulness you loved me -with a passion that was all consuming. I bathed your soul in the divine -worship and devotion such as only a pure woman can pour out on a man -whom she extols above all others. In your letter there appears not one -allusion to love. Is it possible that you do not love me? You who have -held me so close while spasms of delight have shaken your stalwart frame, -and the flame of passion has reddened your otherwise placid brow, while -exclamations of joy poured forth from your lips between the spasmodic -kisses which held my lips as in a vice. You, a man of equal parts, do -not mention love; you may remain silent on that subject, but if you tell -yourself that you do not love you _lie_, and your heart bears witness to -it. - -“You can love; I know you can, for I can love with a wild desire to die -in your arms, and I am a student of no school but your own. - -“Do you imagine that the cold indifference which your letter displays -will have a tendency to lessen my love for you? Do not be misled, I beg -of you, for you once descended from your proud station to make love to -me, and I have treasured that love and it has grown into such a mountain -that no chasm of indifference can ever engulf it, and remember you are -his father—my child’s father. He would love you, too, for having loved -me, if for no other reason, for, God bless him, he is in love with your -old sweetheart. Where I go he will go. I do not love you still with the -hope that as in our case at first, love begets love. - -“I have long since learned to live to love, and expect nothing but dreams -in return. You did love me. No, you did not, or else all the world could -not have torn you from me; but you cannot love another. I wish you might, -for the goodness which lies within you would shine out and light a world -of laggards. - -“You ask me if I am comfortable. Yes. I have everything that my physical -needs require. I have a good home and plenty to eat and wear. You say you -often wonder how I manage to get along in such an expensive city. Now, if -you mean that, you love me and you feel that every dollar I have comes -without the soil of dishonor. I will tell you how I—we—live. You have -raved over my figure; you have worshipped my body as though the presence -of my heart were an unheard of thing. Other men have evidently been -schooled in the same house of learning as you, for they, too, admire my -flesh and bone. Not a day passes but that I form some new acquaintance, -and, as I take it, all on account of my shapely limbs, my slender waist -and swelling bosoms. Those very possessions which were once yours, all -yours for your own aggrandizement and worshipful indulgence; those charms -which held you to me—the wealth of red-gold hair, the pink-tipped ears, -the pearly white teeth, the tapering hands, the high-arched foot, the -delicately moulded ankles, the laughing eyes and supple grace that you so -admired, even before I gave to you a son, are as much admired by other -men as they once were admired by you. - -“It is different, though, with them and you. You held all of the then -priceless pearls with nothing but love; the same possessions which were -then yours because I loved you, are now dispensed at intervals to suit -the convenience of other men and for financial consideration. - -“We—you and I—can remember the time when no man but you could lay claim -to any of my charms except my ready smile and kindly word. - -“Now, and for two years past, my charms have been the property of a -public who, while not so demonstrative as you once were, seem wild to -have me disport myself for the edification of mankind. - -“I often ask if I wrong a nature-loving public by allowing the use of my -body to fulfill their desires. - -“My natural answer is no. I feel, in fact, that I may be the means of -saving some timid girl the embarrassment of assuming my place in the -world. I am sure I can do more to satisfy the whims of humanity than can -a novice, for I am a student of your school and your ideas are instilled -within me until I feel that my efforts will avail more than the efforts -of an inexperienced girl. Again, I am feeding and clothing myself and -our baby, and I love you. The world will, in part, frown upon me for the -part I am playing; others silently applaud me, and I congratulate myself -and feel, in a certain degree, I am a guardian angel and the precepts -inculcated by my conduct will be fittingly heralded to ears which will -transmit them to the heart with a good effect. I am doing what you might -not object to your divorced wife doing, but that which no man of high -honor would consent to his daughter doing. - -“I am a model at the Art Institute. I pose in the nude, and I thank God -I am an honorable woman, and, in spite of all the years of suffering, I -am still devoted to the man who taught me to love. With thanks for your -inquiry, I beg to sign for this once, - - “Your wife, - - “NORA.” - - - - -TALE ELEVEN. - -A STORY OF SUICIDE BRIDGE. - - “Age cannot love destroy, - But perfidy can blast the flower, - Even when in most unwary hour, - It blooms in Fancy’s bower. - Age cannot love destroy, - But perfidy can rend the shrine - In which its vermeil splendors shine.” - - -It was a blustering winter day and a heavy snow was falling, making the -streets exceedingly disagreeable to traverse. State street was crowded -with shoppers evidently bent on taking advantage of the annual clearing -sale which always takes place at the beginning of the new year. - -I was elbowing my way through the crowd on the east side of the street, -about as uncomfortable as a man could be, when I passed Kehoe’s. I had -not gone a dozen steps when it occurred to me that a cup of hot chocolate -would taste good. I turned abruptly and encountered an umbrella, which -flashed dangerously close to my eyes. Somewhat confused, I entered -the door behind a woman. She had pushed the door open and dropped her -skirts directly in front of me. It was too late for me to catch myself -and in less time than it takes to tell it, I had stepped on them. The -suddenness with which she let that door swing back was appalling. It took -me squarely on the nose, a fact which I do not now regret, inasmuch -as it led to a very pleasant acquaintance. She glanced around to learn -the cause of all the trouble and accepted my humble apologies with good -grace, and seemed to feel sorry when she saw her carelessness was the -cause of a great deal of suffering, for I could not well disguise the -fact as the tears ran down my cheeks. - -All the tables but one were taken and that was a small one in the corner, -at which there were two chairs. She made her way to it quickly and when -she saw me waiting she sent the waitress to me to tell me to come to her -table. I bowed in response and crossed the room. - -“I feel that I owe you some consideration for the unfortunate occurrence -of a few moments ago,” she said, “and I hope you’ll accept my apologies -in turn.” - -I replied that it was my own stupidity and assured her that I already -began to feel it was rather a fortunate than unfortunate occurrence. - -She smiled, yet at the same time drew herself up with a quiet dignity -that was unmistakable, and I knew I had taken the wrong tack when I made -my gallant speech. - -By this time my eyes were somewhat cleaned of tears and I was able to get -a distant view of my vis-a-vis. I had already discovered that she was -of medium height and quite slender. Her face was oval, her eyes large -and brown, and looked liquid in the half light of our corner; her chin -was round, her mouth was rather large and when she smiled her full, red -lips disclosed a set of well kept teeth; her nose was neither long nor -short, but quite in keeping with the contour of her face. Her eyebrows -were dark and beautifully arched. Her forehead was high and full and an -abundance of real golden hair was drawn back and concealed under the -large, black beaver hat she wore so becomingly. - -The real beauty of her face, however, was in its expression. Every -emotion was clearly defined in the wonderful eyes and, though when -smiling they would light up with a merry laughter, their general -expression was one of sweet sadness. - -When I assisted her to remove her coat, can I be blamed for feasting my -eyes on the beautiful bust and shoulders with which nature had endowed -her? - -We chatted idly on the topics of the day as we sipped our chocolate, and -when we had finished I handed her my card, saying, “If you ever need -services in my line, I shall be pleased to render them.” - -She thanked me and said as she read “Attorney at Law,” “I might have been -grateful for your proffered aid a few years ago, but now, thank God, I do -not need such aid, and I hope I shall never need it.” - -Then she handed me her card. “Mrs. Geoffrey Nye Melville.” As I read I -could not restrain the exclamation that arose to my lips. - -“Why, I once had a friend by that name who was an official on the St. -Paul road. He and I were the best of friends in St. Paul five years ago. -I was at that time their attorney.” - -“It is certainly my husband whom you know,” she said, “and you must come -and call on us at your earliest convenience.” - -I thanked her and on the strength of my friendship for her husband asked -to escort her to the train. - -I was not long in taking advantage of her invitation, and felt doubly -free to do so, inasmuch as her husband had hunted me up the very next day -after our meeting, and had insisted on my coming as soon as possible. - -It happened that the night I called her husband was away, having been -unexpectedly summoned to St. Paul on business. - -I found her alone and looking almost beautiful in the bright red crepe -gown she wore. Her skin was fair but pale and her cheeks reflected -just enough of the color to enhance the effect. We had a long talk on -generalities and gradually drifted to personalities. - -“I am quite surprised at Geoffrey’s marrying again,” said I. “I had begun -to think him proof against the fair sex five years ago, and it seems to -me he added four more to that, with all due respect for you, my charming -hostess.” - -“Well,” she sighed, “he might still have remained single had not he -met me in my forlorn condition, and I often think pity was the deepest -sentiment he felt until we had been married several months. Well, you -see, like most Chicago women, I have a story, and mine is a long one, but -probably not an unusual one.” - -“Dare I presume to ask you for it, on the strength of my long friendship -for your husband?” - -She was gazing dreamily into the grate and did not reply for a moment, -then she turned her glorious eyes toward me and said slowly, “Yes, I will -tell you if you think it will interest you.” - -I assured her it would and asked her to proceed. - -“I was married once before, too,” she said, “but was so unhappy that I -left my husband and secured a divorce on the grounds of cruelty. I was -granted a small alimony, enough to supply my modest wants. - -“As time went on, I became rather dissatisfied with my quiet life and was -filled with a desire to enter the business world. It was just about this -time that a friend of mine, being too ill to go down town, asked me to do -an errand for her. It took me into an office building, and when I entered -the reception room I was told that the party for whom I inquired was not -in, but was expected soon, so I sat down and waited. - -“While I was waiting a man came out of one of the private offices, and as -he saw me waiting he stopped and asked me whom I wished to see. When I -told him he asked me into his office to wait, saying I would find it more -pleasant there than in the reception room. - -“As I think of it now, I wonder why I did not always adhere to my -first impression of him, which presented itself so forcibly. It must -have been fate, I guess. He was not at all handsome; he, in fact, was -homely, especially his mouth, which was too coarse, yet when he spoke -his countenance lighted up and there was an earnestness about him that -partially restored my confidence. He had a fine physique, a large, -brainy head, and carried himself with dignity. Well, we drifted into the -discussion of literature, and I found this was a well chosen subject, for -we were both deeply interested in it. - -“After visiting an hour or more with him, I decided to wait no longer for -the man I had called to see, and I left. Not long after this my friend -called at the same suite of offices and she met Mr. Ferris. She seemed -very favorably impressed with him, so much so that she asked him to call, -and I must say that in spite of my prejudice I enjoyed the evening. He -called often after that and my friend said that he was in love with me. -I did not believe it at the time, probably because I was so utterly -indifferent to him at that time. He interested me greatly, however, for -many reasons, not least among which was the fact that he was in touch -with the business world and I thought I saw possibilities through him. - -“It was not a month after this that he proposed to me. We were sitting on -the couch together, and I had been telling him of the unexpected visit of -a little friend of mine from Buffalo. He suddenly took my hand in his and -said, ‘Claire, I want you, and before anyone comes into this home to rob -me of you, I want your promise to be mine, all mine.’ - -“I felt within myself that he had endeared himself to me considerably, -but did not feel at all sure that I wanted to marry him, and told him so, -so we left the matter in that way, although I accepted his ring, but it -was with the understanding that if in the course of a few months I wished -to retract, I was at liberty to do so. - -“On the following Wednesday Gretta came. Dear little Gretta. Pretty, -petite and winsome, so sweet yet so frivolous. - -“I introduced Mr. Ferris to her and they soon became good friends; no one -could help being nice to her. I was slightly indisposed at this time and -was very glad that Ned could take her out, for it relieved me of the -burden of entertaining her, for a burden it was, in my present condition. - -“One night, while I was confined to my room, she came to me and told me -that she loved Ned, and that she believed he loved her, for he had kissed -her and called her his dear little girl. - -“As if by magic, the demon of jealousy reared his head and began to sting -me. I loved him now, I knew it, for I was unmistakably jealous. I was -jealous of a pretty, voluptuous, little doll, with no thought beyond her -present gratification, be it a new gown or a dinner, both of which she -enjoyed with all the fervor of her nature. They had not one thing in -common, unless it was their passionate natures. I tried to reason with -myself, to assure myself of the fact that a man of his calibre could not -really love so frivolous a creature as she; that it was merely a passing -fancy. But having been married, I knew a man’s nature so well, knew how -often a magnetic personality lured them on to mistakes fatal to the -happiness of both, that my theory of incompatibility was not altogether a -consolation. - -“During this period of uneasiness, I did not mention the matter to him. -I was too proud to mention it to him, and felt it would be beneath my -dignity to admit that I had a possible rival in one so shallow. Perhaps -that is where I made my mistake; I don’t know. - -“I tried to lull my suspicions to rest, but they would none of it, and -one night after they had gone to the theater I dragged myself wearily -down stairs to the library, which was off the parlor and separated from -it by heavy portieres. I became tired of reading at last and turned out -the gas and laid down determined to await their return and be convinced -that my suspicions were groundless, if possible; at least I wanted to -hear how he made love to her and decide for myself whether he meant it or -not. - -“I must have fallen asleep, for the first thing I remember was his saying -in most pleading tones, ‘Come in here a moment, dear, and let me love -you, as only I can love you.’ - -“She danced into the darkened room beside him and he led her across it -to the large leather couch. He picked her up bodily and laid her on the -couch, and before she could demur, had she been so inclined, he was -bending over her and raining fervent kisses upon her and she nestled up -to him and sighed in an abandonment of ecstacy, fearing nothing, hoping -nothing, only living in the delight of the moment. - -“I don’t know how I expected her to resist him; in fact, I’m sure I -didn’t. I would have saved her, but for the fact that I seemed as if in -a nightmare, unable to move or utter a sound. I lived hours in those -moments. - -“After awhile I heard a sobbing. Then his voice, all tenderness and -commiseration, ‘There, there, dear, don’t cry. You are all right. Don’t -feel so badly; we are just human, and are no worse than hundreds of -others.’ - -“‘Humph!’ thought I, suffering though I was, ‘there is a great deal of -consolation in that!’ - -“Gradually the sobs ceased, and then he bade her good-night. I knew she -would not go into my room this night, so had no need to fear my absence -from my room would be discovered. - -“What I suffered that night, only God knows. I laid there all night in my -misery, freezing and burning by turns. It seemed to me my hair must be -gray. My idol was shattered, it lay in fragments at my feet, but alas! -as with the shattered vase, round which the scent of the roses still -clung, so did the virtues with which I had endowed this being continue -to obtrude themselves to the complete obliteration of the crime he had -committed before my very eyes. - -“At daybreak I went to my room and bathed my haggard face and tried to -make myself presentable, at least, to Gretta when she should come in to -see me. I had not decided what to do for the immediate present, only that -I would say nothing. - -“Much to my surprise, Gretta came in beaming as usual, her volatile -spirits were incapable of more than momentary depression, and I wondered -vaguely if it could all be a horrible dream. - -“Out of the chaos of my brain one idea resolved itself, and that was to -tell him all after she left, unless he, in his desire to right the wrong, -asked for his release. - -“She went. A week passed and nothing was said, and I knew then nothing -would be said. He was going out of the city and I determined to tell him -about it on his return Sunday night. - -“He came and after he had chatted awhile he got up and said he would go -out and order an ice sent up from the drug store around the corner. As -he bent to pick up his hat, a letter fell unnoticed from his pocket. -Perhaps I should not have done so, but I concealed it with my skirt until -he left the room. It was from Gretta, I found, and I have it yet,” she -said, as she crossed the room to the little inlaid writing desk, and took -from it a plain white envelope bordered in black. - -“I am going to let you read it,” she said, handing it to me. - - “Dearest Ned:— - - “I am going to die, I am sure. I am grieving myself to death - over you. The sun never shines brightly any more and my heart - aches all the time now. I am disgraced, or soon will be. Oh, - Ned, come and take your poor, little Gretta away. Tell Claire - what you did and she is so good and sweet she will send you to - me, I know. Please take me away and marry me and I will tell - them all that we went to St. Joe and were married when I was - there visiting in Chicago. Come, dear, or I shall surely die. I - ordered this black bordered paper because I am sure mamma will - have use for it soon; anyway I am in mourning for the loss of - what even you, with all your tenderness, cannot give back to me. - - “Come, Ned, for baby’s sake. - - “Your heart broken - - GRETTA.” - -“When I had finished my head swam, and I felt but one mad desire, and -that was to fly. I acted on the impulse and after pinning a note to the -letter saying, ‘Ned, I knew some of this before, now I know all. I am -going away where you will never see me or hear from me again. You _must_ -do your duty no matter what the sacrifice. A lifetime of devotion cannot -repay her for her loss. - - CLAIRE.’ - -“I put on my hat and left by the side entrance. I had not the remotest -idea of where I was going or what I was going to do. I was numb with -agony and wandered aimlessly on until I came to a car line, then the -thought flashed across my mind to go to ‘Suicide Bridge,’ and thither I -went. - -“It was yet early in the evening and many people were lingering in the -park. I walked onto the bridge with perfect calmness, the calmness of -despair (for what was there now to live for), and on to my fate. I walked -to the center of the bridge, as nearly as I can remember, and looking -carefully around and seeing no one, I climbed upon the railing and jumped. - -“God must have raised up that man at that particular moment from mere -nothingness, for I was so sure I was the only one on the structure at the -time. He caught my skirt and by an almost superhuman effort drew me back -onto the bridge. He did not ask a question, but took me in his arms and -carried me until he met a policeman, to whom he said, ‘My wife became -dizzy and fainted. Please call a carriage.’ - -“He took me to the Virginia hotel, and when I had sufficiently recovered -to talk he said with decision, ‘I feel you were sent to me this night, -raised up from the ashes of my buried hopes, and if you are free to -marry I want you for my wife. I care not what your past has been or what -caused you to try such a rash act. Your sweet, refined face tells me -you are good and for the rest I care naught. I do not profess to love -you, neither do I expect you to love me, but we will try to make life -endurable together. You saved my life as much as I saved yours, for by -saving you I saved my own, for I went there tonight for the very purpose -of doing what you tried to do. Come now, what do you say?’ he said -earnestly.” - -“And what did you say?” - -“I said I was willing to try, and thank God that I did, for I have never -regretted it. We were married that night between eleven and twelve.” - -“And what about Gretta?” - -“Ned made what reparation he could; that is, he married her, and they -have a dear little Ned eight months old.” - - - - -TALE TWELVE. - -TWO BABES AND TWO MOTHERS. - - “They say best men are moulded out of faults; - And for the most, become much more the better - For being a little bad.” - - -“Yes, we are very happy here.” - -“That fact is very evident and, as I am out for a story today, I am going -to be so rude as to ask you if there is not some pain back of all this -peacefulness?” - -The woman addressed drew herself up to her full height, which was little -more than five feet, while her gray eyes gleamed with the assurance of -complete possession of some article of value. - -This woman was not handsome, in fact had she been placed in less -effective surroundings she would have been homely. - -But she was good, although the fact that she had borne cares could not -well be concealed. It was her nature and intention to see the brightest -side of any object, and that trait in her character was so dominant that -it outshone her physical imperfections. The writer had known her a very -long time, and she had often promised him a story, so that it took but -little urging on his part to get her to talk of her past life. - -“I was never a famous beauty, an actress, a singer of note, nor a rich -man’s daughter,” she said, by way of beginning. “I was a simple country -girl whose chief duties consisted in helping my mother wash, iron, churn -and pull weeds in the garden in the summer months, while the winter days -were whiled away by washing dishes, going to school, and if nothing of -greater importance came up for the evening, sewing carpet rags until bed -time. - -“Such was the monotony of the life of Virginia Dawson. My father thought -little of the future, not that he failed to care, but that he failed to -see that the future held anything in store for him or his children. He -had been taught the lesson of frugality, the same being demonstrated by -poverty. It seems strange that a discovery of nature’s deposits would -be the turning point in my humdrum existence, but such was the case. My -parental home was but a few miles from the now busy city of Anderson, -Ind., and it was the finding of natural gas near our house that threw me -into the company of Arthur Blake. He was the son of wealthy parents and, -though all my sufferings are directly traceable to my early association -with him, I must say that he is one of the most noble of men. He came to -the community in which we dwelt as a civil engineer, having fancied that -profession more than any other. A firm of Boston capitalists had employed -him to investigate the extent and certainty of the gas belt. He was -instructed to keep his business quiet and to conceal his real identity. -To do this, he assumed the role of a laborer, going about and actually -toiling with the derricks, ropes and pipes just as though he was not an -heir to a large fortune. - -“While thus engaged he came to our humble home to board. I was just such -a strip of awkward girlhood as any man might expect to find in a child -of the rural district. - -“I know I was the most unsophisticated creature that ever lived. I knew -nothing of life outside the five-room house in which my parents had lived -for twenty years and in which I had been born nearly seventeen years -before I met Arthur Blake. - -“He remained at our house for three months, and so refined and dignified -was he that he won a place in our hearts that was hard to fill by any -others. He was rather reticent and made few friends. My father was -dumfounded when one day Arthur proposed that he, my father, go and buy a -new buggy. - -“‘What would I buy a buggy with and what for?’” asked my father. - -“‘With this,’ said Arthur, as he handed father a roll of bills, ‘and for -my use. I shall have to do a great deal of driving. I will hire a horse -from you, but I want everyone to understand that the whole outfit is -yours.’ - -“So it was arranged, and it was generally said by less fortunate -neighbors that ‘Dawson must be makin’ money keepin’ boarders.’ - -“Then came a long series of drives over the broad expanse of the gas -fields. My parents did not object to my going with him, for he was very -considerate of my welfare. It was during these trips that I learned of -the beauties of nature. I soon became thrilled with the songs of birds, -the chirping of crickets and the humming of bees, none of which had held -any charms for me before. Plants that to me had always been known as -weeds now bore bright blossoms; the green leaves meant more to me. I saw -beauty in the undulating fields which I had always known as plain hills. -The whole world seemed to put on a new garment. You see that I was not -experienced enough to know that I saw everything with different eyes than -before. I did not know that a little word of four letters told all that -affected me, in fact I did not know what love meant until he told me, and -then I did not fully understand it until he was away from me for three -weeks. - -“He went home, back to Pittsburg on a visit, and while he was gone the -brightness of the flowers faded. The frosts of October withered the -foliage, and the brown of the leaves seemed to resemble the solemnity -of my heart when I would walk along the well known paths with pleasant -memories in my mind. Every bush and tree seemed to add to the sentiment -with which my heart was filled and sobs choked me. The notes of the few -birds that had remained tempting fate by braving the elements were even -sobbing. - -“Then he came back, and the glinting of the sunshine on the early morning -frost was not brighter than my life. After that he made real love to me, -and I have always thought he meant it. Our love was like that of many -others and led to grave indiscretions, and in due time I realized that I -was in serious trouble. I told Arthur and he said he would go back to his -father and get some money and come and marry me. Instead, he went away -and during those months of waiting my suffering was beyond description. - -“I was finally forced to tell my parents. My mother wept herself sick; -father became morose and said little; my trouble became neighborhood -gossip; one old lady going so far as to say it was good enough and she -guessed most anybody could have a new buggy for that price. - -“One day after my baby was born, a well dressed stranger called at our -house and asked for my father. He was a lawyer that Arthur had sent. He -had a great lot of papers he wanted us to sign, and after a long talk -with father, we signed them as directed. After that father seemed to get -along better; he was kinder to me and seemed to like the baby better. He -seemed to have more money and the first day of each month, rain or shine, -he went to town and nearly always brought mother and me a new dress or -some article of apparel that was most needed. He gave me money to buy -the baby’s clothes without a murmur, and took a more cheerful view of -everything. - -“At last the land in our section became so valuable for the gas that was -under it that the little forty-acre tract on which my father had been a -tenant so long, was sold to a party of capitalists, and our occupation as -farmers was gone. - -“We moved to town, I mean Anderson, Indiana. There my father obtained -work in a factory. All this time my baby was growing from the sphere of -long clothes, into prattling, toddling childhood. Father toiled long and -faithfully day by day; mother and I managed the housework, nor was our -strength taxed, for we had but a five-room cottage, and it seemed a shame -that poor father should work so hard, so many long hours of the day and -we have so much time to spend in idleness. It was decided that I should -seek employment and I obtained a situation as maid in the home of one -of the large factory owners. I had a very pleasant place, and when at -the end of two years, the family decided to remove to Chicago, it was -arranged that I go with them. My mother could easily get along without -me, and she had grown so fond of the baby that she would not hear of my -taking her with me. - -“I was soon located in my new home on one of the principal North Side -thoroughfares of the city. All went well until one day the lady of the -house announced that she expected some company from California, and -wished me to be in attendance to them during their stay. - -“When the visitors arrived I was at my station in the hall on the second -floor; the hostess greeted them, and in her demonstration of hospitality -showed the lady the suite they were to occupy during their stay. She -rang and I went in to assist in putting away the wraps. The lady was a -sweet young matron, and when she said, ‘Now I must have my baby with me a -little while,’ I could have hugged her. - -“‘Yes,’ said the hostess; ‘Virginia, run down and bring the baby up; he -is with his papa in the reception room.’ - -“Then, with a motherly feeling growing in my breast, I descended the -heavily carpeted stairs, three steps at a time, but even in my flight I -had taken time to fall in love with that baby before I ever set eyes on -it. - -“I told the gentleman that I would take the baby up to its mother. -I saw the pallor on his face as I spoke, but when I took my baby’s -half-brother into my arms none of the spectators suspected the truth.” - -“Then the man was⸺?” - -“Yes, it was my Arthur who had brought his wife and child to visit in the -home where I was a servant, quite accidental, of course, and thanks to my -rugged nature, I did not faint nor in any way betray my feelings. - -“For two weeks I held my post of duty. Once he tried to speak to me in -the hall, but I ran away from him. I felt that my claim had been settled. -The day they left he pushed an envelope into my hand as I was packing -his wife’s trunks. It contained a fifty-dollar bill and a letter. The -money was an insult; the letter told me of his sympathy for me, and how -he had been engaged to his wife long before he met me, but had loved me -and still did. It all aroused my anger. I brooded over the matter for -three weeks, then concluded to go to his home and expose the whole affair -to his wife. I went to Anderson, got my little girl and departed for the -west. I had no difficulty in finding his home. I was admitted and ushered -into the parlor. His wife soon came to me; the moment she saw my little -girl she began to weep and took her in her arms. My first impression -was that he had told her everything. But no, she explained to me that -her baby boy had contracted a cold in Chicago, from which he had never -recovered, and they had buried him but two days before. She insisted -on knowing whose child I had with me. Her suffering had the effect of -changing my plans. Poor soul, I did not wish to add to her misery. After -wringing a promise from her never to tell anyone, not even her husband, -I told my story. I told her all except who the man was, and I concealed -that fact from her. She insisted on my staying at their home for a few -days until I found work. I was eager to do so, for she said baby and I -would be such a comfort to her. - -“I left with a promise to return. I found Arthur’s office and told him -why I had come west, also how my plans were altered. He listened in -silence until I had finished, then tenderly he took the baby into his -arms and kissed her—just think, the first father’s kiss she had ever -known. - -“In spite of all my desire to expose him I was now fully convinced that -it would be a great wrong to wreck his life and that of the woman who was -his wife, and whom he had loved before he met me. He joined his wife in -her entreaties for me to make my home with them, at least, he said, until -I could do better. - -“All went well for two months. Suffer? Yes, I suffered more than I dared -then admit, but I was doing good, I was making his wife happy instead of -dealing out pain, as I first intended. I am sure he suffered also, but I -think he, too, found a great deal of happiness in the fact that he was -doing all in his power for me and my child, without doing any harm to -anyone. But an end must come, even to good intentions. One evening we -were all sitting in the library of his home; my little girl was playing -with a doll house he had given her. She had been quietly engaged in this -pursuit for some moments, and so still was she we almost forgot that she -was in the room. All at once she left her play and ran to Arthur and -proceeded to climb up in his lap. Then putting her chubby arms around -his neck and kissing his cheek, she said, ‘I wish you was my papa.’ And -before anyone could answer her she turned to me and said, ‘Mamma, ain’t I -dot no papa? Why tant you det me a nice papa like—like—Unca Arter?’ - -“It was too much for him. Tears sprang into his eyes and, putting her -gently from him, he left the room. His wife thought his grief was caused -by the sad recollection of their baby, but I knew. Such scenes were -exceedingly straining, so I avowed my intention to return to Chicago, -whereupon they begged me to leave my little Harriet with them. We talked -it over while Arthur held her on his knee. I finally consented, for I -knew she would be better cared for there with them than she would with -me. I felt the greatest pain, though, when, after it was settled, Arthur -lovingly folded her in his arms and said, ‘Now, darling, I am going to be -your papa.’ Freeing herself from him, and not quite understanding it all, -she ran to me and said, ‘Who’s doin’ to be my mamma now, you, mamma, or -Auntie Arter?’ I could only take her in my arms and weep. - -“Good-byes were said and I came here and found work in a restaurant. -Letters came and went with the regularity of the rising sun. Always a -little sheet of scribbles from my baby. They never allowed her to forget -me. To my surprise one day I received a telegram from Arthur saying that -his wife, the baby and himself would arrive in Chicago in three days. -I did not understand at the time, but learned upon their arrival that -Arthur’s wife had become afflicted with some malady which required a -difficult surgical operation, and she was coming here for that purpose. - -“The operation was performed and everything done to save her precious -life, but it became the painful duty of the nurse to tell Arthur that -all efforts had resulted in failure. The slender thread of life seemed -about to be severed. They sent for me to come to the hospital and bring -my baby. I went and was shown to the room where white sheets seemed -to predominate, the monotony of which was only broken by the vases of -beautiful flowers which filled the room with sweet perfume. - -“Arthur and the nurse were with her. She feebly requested the nurse to -leave us alone, then she kissed me and the baby, and reached out her -feverish hands to Arthur. - -“‘Arthur,’ she said, in trembling tones, ‘Arthur, say once more that you -love me and for the sake of that love will do something for me.’ - -“The scene was pitiful. Arthur knelt beside the bed and took the death -marked face between his strong hands and said, ‘Nannie, dear, I do love -you, and will do anything you ask.’ - -“Poor soul, how she struggled for breath while Arthur with his face -buried in the white linen sobbed his heart out. - -“Then she said, ‘Now the baby.’ - -“He took the baby and placed her on the bed as she requested, where she -could pat and caress her. - -“‘And now you come, too, Virginia.’ - -“And there, with death stealing in on the bright rays of sunlight, we -knelt one on either side of the baby. - -“With a look of love which I shall always cherish, she began by -addressing me: - -“‘Virginia, I know all; he, Arthur, my Arthur and your Arthur, dear, has -been good and truthful, and baby, God bless you, you have a real papa now -and one of your choice. Listen—Arthur—Virginia⸺,’ her breath now came -in gasps,—‘I’m—going to our little Arthur—see—see—he is watching us—and -he’s waiting—for—me. Promise—Arthur—promise—Vir-gin—ia, that when I am -gone—you will marry—for the baby’s—sake—and—my—sake—promise.’ - -“The sun crept through the blinds and lighted the smile that flitted over -her face as I closed the bloodless eyelids. - -“As soon as Arthur could arrange his business affairs in California, he -went to New York, where baby and I were to join him. - -“We were married quietly there a month after Nannie died. Quietly, -because the world would have censured us for lack of respect had it known -just that much of the affair. - -“We sailed for Liverpool, and traveled abroad a year, and on our return -we married again, and this time publicly. We are very happy, although -there was much pain behind it all. We both know now what true happiness -is.” - - - - -TALE THIRTEEN. - -NOT GUILTY. - - “I have so loved thee, but cannot, cannot hold thee, - Fading like a dream, the shadows fold thee; - Slowly thy perfect beauty fades away, - Good-bye, sweet day; good-bye, sweet day.” - - -I stood outside and listened. The silvery, sweet tones of the singer rose -clear above the soft guitar accompaniment. As the last words died away -on the stillness of the evening air, I rang the bell. It seemed almost -sacrilege to break in on her quiet enjoyment, although I knew she must -soon be expecting me. She responded to the summons at the door herself. -Of medium height, with beautiful, sloping shoulders, a tiny waist and -perfectly moulded hips, she would have inspired an artist. Her hair -was prematurely gray, and dressed low on her neck. Her face was almost -perfect in feature and the only traces of sorrow time had left visible -were the gray hairs and lines about the slightly drooping mouth. It was -the heart which bore the scars of agony, invisible to all but her and her -God. She had passed through the fire and had come forth purer, fairer, -sweeter, more charitable, more forgiving, better fitted to cope with the -world. - -This was the woman as I knew her now, and had known her for the past -year. She was to be married on the morrow (lucky man), and had promised -to tell me her life’s story before she married. - -“For I shall want to forget all that sad past after the last day of this -life, for tomorrow, I trust, a new era shall have dawned for me,” she -said, when she gave me her promise. - -When I heard her singing I wondered if she longed, yet feared, the new -life, and if she wished to hold the day yet a little longer, which she -had evidently given over to reminiscences, for I knew the past held some -sweet memories, for every past has them, no matter how bitter it has -been. And those sweet memories seem the brighter for their setting of -darkness. - -“I have been thinking of my past life all day,” she said, after we were -seated, “and you know when one indulges in such a review a thousand -things recur to one’s mind which are really irrelevant to the real story, -yet they all combine to make up one’s life, and may have some bearing on -the case after all.” - -She was silent a long time, looking out into the twilight with unseeing -eyes. - -“You know I was accused of murder,” she said, abruptly. “I was tried and -acquitted owing to insufficient evidence.” - -“Yes, I remember something about it.” - -“Five years ago, when I was nineteen, I married a man who was twenty -years my senior. I met him out west while I was visiting there. He was a -miner then, not actively engaged in digging the gold out of mother earth, -nor panning it, but he was on the ground and superintended the work. He -was a handsome man, although bronzed by exposure to the sun and wind; a -Yale graduate, and every inch a gentleman, although thoroughly a man of -the world. To sentimental nineteen, he had all the qualifications of a -god, and although he was not the only one in Colorado Springs who was -attentive to me, he was the one altogether lovely in my eyes. To be Mrs. -Chauncey M. Dare was the height of my girlish ambition, and I used to -write my name ‘Lucile Dare’ just to see how it would look on paper, and -all this was before he had asked me to take his name. - -“My auntie, who was a wealthy widow, thoroughly approved of him and -thought him a most eligible parti. He was reputed wealthy and, as Auntie -said, he was old enough to be staid in his ways. I am sure she had my -best interests at heart, but it seems strange to me now that she did not -realize that he was too many years my senior and also that she did not -deem it necessary to look into his antecedents. But if she had, she might -not have found out, and I suppose I should not have this story to tell, -and perhaps, too, I should have always been a careless child, with no -thought for the comfort and welfare of others. - -“Well, we were married on the fifteenth of October and took apartments at -The Arlington, instead of going to housekeeping, because he said he did -not expect to remain there long, and it was an easy matter to pack and -leave the hotel. - -“It was his desire to go back to New York City and show his ‘girl bride,’ -as he called me, to all his friends and have a taste of real life. - -“He met the highest ideal of all my girlish fancies, and was as tender a -husband as he was a lover. - -“After we had been married six months he came home one night and said, -‘Hurrah, babe, we are going east in a fortnight, thank God, so get your -duds packed and be ready.’ - -“I was glad to make the change, too, for youth loves a change, and I was -delighted at the prospect of going to New York, for I had never been -further east than Chicago. - -“We went at the end of the two weeks. I was received with open arms by -all his friends in the east and I thought myself the happiest girl in -the world, for he seemed so proud of me. I know now it was not the right -kind of pride. He was not proud of me for my goodness and purity, it was -rather the pride in the possession of some coveted article, for I was -conceded to be beautiful then, and I suppose my figure was good. His was -not a nature capable of appreciating nobility of character. - -“He took a house there, and we entertained a great deal and on a large -scale. I think I might say I was a favorite in his set, but what does -all that amount to? His was a fickle nature and when he thought he had -fathomed mine, when he thought he knew me in the perfection of every -art I possessed, he began to weary. I did not know it at the time, I -knew something had caused a change, but always attributed it to business -cares. He began by neglecting me occasionally; from that it grew to -continuous neglect, even to the point of ignoring my existence altogether. - -“Endowed by nature with a cheerful disposition, my volatile spirits were -continually on the rebound and even his gross neglect I did not feel -deeply until it was brought home to me very forcibly after a year’s time. - -“It was by one of his best friends, although many years his junior. He -had long treated me with a great deal of consideration, but I never felt -it was more than the ordinary courtesy that one friend would show to the -wife of another until that night. - -“We had been dancing together and he took me to the conservatory to rest -and sat down beside me to talk. Perhaps I was unusually tired that night, -or perhaps, owing to the round of gayety, I looked worn. At any rate Mr. -Mansfield leaned over me with an air of anxiety and said, ‘Lucile, are -you sure you are quite well tonight?’ - -“‘Why, yes, of course I am,’ I responded, laughingly. ‘Why?’ - -“‘You look thoroughly disconsolate tonight. Are you worrying about -something? About—about Chauncey and his doings?’ - -“‘About Chauncey and his doings? Why, what do you mean? Why should I? He -is perfectly well, isn’t he?’ - -“‘Yes, his physical health is good, but you surely know that he is -drinking hard, and his neglect of you is occasioning a great deal of -comment. It isn’t right, and we all feel it.’ - -“‘Why, I hadn’t thought about it,’ I said, ‘only that he was very busy.’ - -“‘Do you mean to say you don’t know the way he has been doing. Why, I -could take you to him this very minute.’ - -“My face burned, my heart began to throb violently. Tears of anger slowly -welled up and overflowed my eyes. And yet I really could not comprehend -it all. - -“‘You must be mistaken, Horace. Surely Chauncey loves me still. We have -never had any cross words or misunderstandings.’ - -“It may have been pique at my incredulity that made him say suddenly, -‘Lucile, come with me. Get your wraps and come, and put on a heavy veil. -I will show you.’ - -“Mechanically I obeyed him. We entered his carriage together and drove, -miles and miles, it seemed to me. I was very nervous and trembled -violently. Horace tried to reassure me and stroked my hand tenderly. - -“‘Brace up, little girl,’ he said; ‘you need all your strength for the -ordeal before you. Perhaps I have done wrong to tell you this or to -take you where you can see it, but you are too young, too good to be -treated in this manner and you ought to see for yourself the depth of his -depravity.’ - -“‘Do you think I will be any happier for being disillusioned?’ I asked. -‘Would it not have been better for me to have gone on blindly trusting? -Oh, why did you tell me, why did I come, anyway?’ - -“‘If you wish to, we will return at once.’ - -“‘No, I must see it through to the bitter end. I could never be happy -again now, knowing even as much as I do.’ - -“We drew up in front of a large house ablaze with light. We alighted, -rang the bell, and were ushered into a sumptuously furnished parlor. -Everything that was picturesque met the eye. Beautiful pictures and -statues, elegant furniture and beautiful women, elaborately attired, and -behind the palms in the corner was an orchestra. Everything combined to -make the scene enchanting. I clung bewildered to Horace’s arm. - -“He led me to a small room off a large salon, where there were many -tables. It was a scene of wild revelry, wine flowed freely and the air -was heavy with the odor of many flowers. Horace pointed out a table near -the center of the room. Seated at this table were two women and a man. -The women were horribly made up and gowned in extreme decollete gowns, -only fit for the most formal affair, and were laughing boisterously at -something. - -“When the man turned his head I recognized my husband, and as I gazed he -placed his hand on the exposed chest of one of his blasé companions, and -patted it just as he had mine a thousand times when we first married. -The spectacle was too revolting for words. I gave a slight scream. But -Horace had anticipated some such occurrence and pressed my face against -his broad shoulder. When I had partially recovered my normal condition we -left. Back home—yes, now a home no longer! Back to the place where I had -known so many happy days. Horace bade me good-night in the reception hall. - -“‘Lucile,’ said he, ‘you don’t know how sorry I am to have been the one -to change the whole tenor of your life, but it was more honorable in me, -was it not, than to maintain silence?’ - -“‘Yes,’ I said, calmly. - -“I went into the library and took a new magazine from the table, sat -down and waited. Two o’clock, three o’clock, four o’clock and still no -Chauncey. My eyes were glued to the clock; 4:15 and I heard a step. -I half rose in my nervous expectancy and was appalled to see an arm -uplifted over me as to strike. I threw up my right hand, which held the -paper knife, to ward off the blow which seemed imminent. - - * * * * * - -“When I returned to consciousness I was lying on a couch by the window, -my head was dizzy and the room was filled with imaginary voices. I -wondered where I could be; then the occurrences of the previous night -passed before me in rapid succession. I jumped up and the sight which met -my eyes froze the blood in my veins. - -“There weltering in his own life blood, with the steel paper knife buried -in his throat, lay Horace. - -“Words cannot express the agony of the hours that followed. I managed to -arouse the servants and they called the police. They asked me to explain, -but they could not get a satisfactory explanation from me. I did not know -how it all happened and I was mentally incapable of doing myself justice -in telling what I knew. My account was so confused that I was remanded to -jail without bail, pending my trial. Oh, those awful days! Not a friend -came to see me. While I was living in affluence I had scores of friends, -but now that I was in trouble and disgrace there was not one of all the -number that would take me by the hand.” - -“But where was your husband all this time?” - -“Yes, you may well ask. - -“When they questioned him as to his whereabouts on that night, he proved -an alibi. He gave a detailed account of his doings every hour of that -night and, while it did not redound to his credit, it saved him from the -penitentiary, and nearly sent me there. - -“There were three reasons why I was cleared. Firstly, they could prove no -motive for the act; secondly, it seemed impossible for a woman to strike -such a powerful blow; and last, but not least, the efficiency of my -counsel. - -“He was an entire stranger to me. He had read the newspaper accounts of -the affair, which stated, among other things, that I had no counsel, -and his sympathies were aroused. He took up my case with no prospect of -compensation.” - -“But, tell me, what became of your husband and who killed Horace?” - -“That mystery was not solved until six months ago. I had come to Chicago -after the trial was over to get away from all the old environments and -the old scenes, in the most miserable health. I found employment here and -as soon as my mind became occupied with other things I began to recover. -One day I received a telegram which had been forwarded from place to -place in search of me. It came from my husband’s physician, and told me -to come at once, as Chauncey was dying, and it was his last request that -they find me and bring me there at any cost. I went and he confessed -before witnesses that he was guilty of the crime for which I had been -arrested. - -“It seems that Horace never left the house that night, fearing, I -suppose, that I might do myself some injury. He saw Chauncey come in -intoxicated, and fearing he might do me bodily harm he ran in to warn -me. It must have been his raised arm, silently motioning me to fly, which -I, in my dazed condition, mistook for Chauncey, and in fear threw up my -arm for protection, then fainted. Chauncey staggered in and the sight of -Horace there with me so angered him that he picked up the first thing he -could lay his hands on, which chanced to be the paper knife, and in his -drunken rage he killed him. - -“The sight of his crime sobered him and self-protection was his first -thought. He placed me on the couch, never stopping to revive me, and -fled, leaving me to my fate. - -“Ah, well,” she shuddered, “it is all over now. He died repentant in my -arms, begging me to forgive him with his last breath. - -“Tomorrow I marry Mr. Graves, the attorney who defended me, and God grant -that I may be happy. I shall try to deserve it.” - -“Amen,” said I. - - - - -TALE FOURTEEN. - -MY LOVER’S DAUGHTER. - - “He - That kills himself to avoid misery, fears it; - And at the best shows but a bastard valor.” - - -Dear Stella:—How strange that you should write me; do you know, girlie, -that it has been almost five years since we have had any correspondence? - -It was only yesterday that I got out all of your old letters and re-read -them, then put them away with the forlorn hope that I might sometime -hear from you again. The last letter that I had from you told me of your -engagement to Alfred, and cruel, heartless creature that I was, I did -not even answer. I wrote you once since then, that was after my trouble. -I did not tell you what it was, but told you that I would if you felt -interested. You did not answer my letter and I, of course, took it for -granted that you did not wish to be burdened with the knowledge of my -misfortune, so never wrote you again. And now, bless your dear heart, you -have written after so long, and in just the same sweet way as of old, -even though you have so recently undergone such a great bereavement. You -are a widow. How strange! And I am still unmarried, and have taken a vow -to remain so always. - -Oh, how I long to visit you and go over all the old, happy days which we -lived together. You ask me to tell you all that has happened to me. Well, -nothing has occurred to change the humdrum existence of my life since I -came here to live. I have worked every working day but five during my -residence here. You well remember when I went to California to spend -the winter. It was the winter I was twenty, and I think you know that -when we parted, with the vow that we would write each other all our joys -and sorrows, that I left heart whole. I have not kept my word in full, -but will now endeavor to cover all important points. I arrived in San -Francisco on schedule time, and was so delighted with the climate, the -fragrant flowers and singing birds that I do not wonder that I was ready -to admire the first man whose conduct and appearance was on par with the -beauties of nature that abounded everywhere. - -Still I knew better than to fall in love, for I was given to understand -by mamma that I was to marry Harry Caruthers. I fairly hated him, -and besides he was papa’s nephew, and I always had a horror of blood -relations intermarrying. Mamma said that did not matter, and Harry would -be a very wealthy man some day. And you remember mamma, too. She was one -of those sweet, dignified, haughty women who needed nothing but her own -opinion to conclude an argument, and this with all due respect. - -Well, I fully understood that to apprise them of the fact that I had -become greatly interested in any one man, save that red faced Caruthers, -meant that my visit would suddenly terminate and that I would return to -cold, cold Wisconsin, to face the storms for the rest of the winter. - -It was only the girlish ingenuity then which prompted me to omit the name -of Capt. Elerding from all my letters for more than three months after I -had met him. Oh, he was so good and kind, so considerate of my welfare, -and I think the most refined gentleman I ever met. I would not blame any -woman for falling in love with him. I fell desperately in love with him -and, strange to say, without any solicitation on his part. He never once -told me that he loved me, but I knew it by his every glance and his every -act. The feeling became so strong within me that I decided that sooner or -later he would propose to me, and as I did not care to run any chance of -losing him by asking him to wait, I thought I should at least get some -expression from my parents in regard to the attachment which had sprung -up. - -I wrote to mamma. My letter brought a hasty reply refusing to tolerate -the attentions of any one, and a request for a full and complete -description of the handsome captain. I took the command as a matter of -course, for mamma wanted to have Harry Caruthers for a son-in-law. - -Out of courtesy to my parents, I drew a pen picture of Captain Elerding. -I told how gallant, how handsome, how brave, how popular, how genteel, -and even how old he was. I elaborated upon his good qualities with the -zeal of a loving girl. I left the age till the last, for I knew that when -my parents learned that he was forty-five and quite gray that it would -have the effect of a bomb bursting in camp; but of course the gray hair -was caused by the many years of service for his country. Think of it! He -was so devoted to his country that he had never been married, so there -was no danger of my having to assume the responsibility of mother to a -lot of grown up sons and daughters. - -This description of the charming captain brought a telegram to me saying: -“Inez Manford, come home on first train.” - -It was signed by both my mother and father. I did not quite understand -it, but wired back: “Delayed, see letter.” - -Then I wrote my parents a letter, explaining that Captain Elerding was -expecting a party of friends soon and very much wished me to extend my -visit another month, and with their consent I should be delighted to -do so. The reply to that letter was mamma herself. She came post haste -and superintended the packing of my trunks with such dispatch that we -were east bound seven hours after her arrival in ’Frisco. I asked to -be allowed to introduce the captain, believing his winning ways would -capture mamma’s heart. She was obdurate and refused to see him or allow -me to see him. - -It was two days after we arrived home before I could steal away alone -long enough to write him. I think the letter only increased the desire to -talk with him, and I resolved to run away and return to him. I felt sure -he would lose no time in making me his wife if he had but a chance, and -I would be the gainer, for he was very wealthy, in fact, more so by far -than Harry Caruthers ever would be, and, more than all, I knew we would -be happy. - -I stole out into the darkness of the night after everybody had retired. -I knew that the Limited stopped to take water just at the edge of town, -about a mile from our house. - -Through the biting cold I forged my way, dodging from one alley to -another, until the railroad tracks were reached, then a long line of -green and red lights guided me to where I caught the train as it was -pulling out, and I was soon speeding to my dear captain. - -The time seemed to drag so slowly, each day seeming longer than the -one before, until I reached my destination. I took a carriage and went -directly to the captain’s hotel. I asked for him, but no one seemed to be -able to talk to me; everyone was excited beyond reason. I finally got the -attention of the clerk long enough to learn that the chambermaid had just -discovered Captain Elerding in his room, _dead_. - -In his strong, right hand was still clenched the deadly pistol. The ugly -hole in his temple and the powder burns around it told the story. In -front of him were two papers, one a letter from my mother in which she -upbraided him unmercifully for having cultivated my acquaintance. The -other was his last will and testament, stating that he was in possession -of all his faculties. It said: “I hereby bequeath, demise, convey and -assign all of my money, property, goods and chattels whatsoever, that I -now own, to my beloved illegitimate child, Inez Manford.” - -I left on the next train and have been a resident of Chicago ever since. - -Please write me at once, Stella, and tell me all that has happened to you -since last we met. - - Yours as of old, - - INEZ. - - - - -TALE FIFTEEN. - -AS TOLD TO A CLERGYMAN. - - “The night has a thousand eyes, - The day but one; - Yet the light of the bright world dies - With the dying sun. - - “The wind has a thousand eyes, - And the heart but one; - Yet the light of a whole life dies, - When love is done.” - - -“You sent for me?” he said, gently, as he looked down at the emaciated -form before him. Her eyes were unnaturally brilliant, her brow, with the -thick, clustering curls brushed back from it, was as white as marble; -the nose was sharp and had that pinched expression which is so sure a -forerunner of dissolution. On each cheek was a small, red spot which -indicated the fever which was consuming her. The chest heaved rapidly and -as the clergyman leaned over her and looked into the hazel depths, he -laid his hand almost caressingly upon her head. - -At that touch she caught his hand in both her own frail palms, and -sobbed, “Yes, I asked to have a clergyman sent to me.” - -“I am James Townsend, the rector of St. Anne’s,” he said. - -But before he had disclosed his identity she had fainted. He hastily -summoned assistance and in a few moments she was restored to -consciousness, although very weak. - -He sat down near her couch and quietly stroked the masses of hair, the -only charm left her by the ravages of disease. Her face seemed to him -to be strangely familiar, and as she laid with closed eyes he had ample -opportunity to study it as intently as he wished. - -Where had he seen that face before? He bent more closely and, as if -attracted by the scrutinizing gaze, she slowly lifted the deep fringed -lids until her eyes met his. - -“What is it?” she asked, faintly. - -“Nothing but a little fainting fit, and you are all right now.” - -“Yes, I’ll soon be out of all my trouble. I am so tired—so tired! I shall -be so glad to rest at last,” she said. - -He administered another stimulant and gradually she became stronger, -until at length she was able to talk. - -“I think, that is the last I remember, I was going to tell you why I -sent for you. It was not to have you pray for me or to have you quote -scripture. I sent for you because you are a clergyman and ought to be a -good man. I know I am dying, although they tell me I will be better when -the warm days come; but I know that when that time comes the grass will -be growing over my grave, and that is why I want to tell you my life’s -story. I do not feel that I ought to be absolved because I confess my -story to you, but it will be a relief to tell some one all and the plain -truth of every detail. I shall die easier, I know.” - -“Aren’t you in danger of overtaxing your strength?” he asked. - -“No, I feel quite strong again, and if you will give me some more wine I -feel quite confident that I can tell you the whole story without a break. -It is a long one, though, and may weary you.” - -“Do not fear, I shall be an attentive and interested listener,” he said. - -“Well, to begin at the very beginning, I must tell you that I was left -an orphan very early in life. I was the youngest of three children, -and after the small estate was divided my brother and sister held a -consultation and decided to educate me for a kindergarten teacher, as -there was less expense connected with the fitting for this work. I -finished my course in due time and went to Peoria to organize a private -class. Among the names of those given me who had children likely to join -my class was a Mrs. Ames. I called at her home early in the week and -secured her two children very easily. She seemed to take quite a fancy to -me, I thought, a theory which afterward proved to be correct. - -“One day I received a very urgent invitation from Mrs. Ames to lunch with -them. I gladly accepted. We did not wait for Mr. Ames, as he was often -detained beyond luncheon hour at his office. As we sat at the table idly -chatting he entered. Up to this time I had never seen Mr. Ames and, in -fact, had scarcely given his existence a thought. I gave him a casual -glance as Mrs. Ames presented him to me, and noticed what a strong, -finely developed man he was. - -“He was rather quiet during the hour and had little to say, but when -he was leaving he came over to me and said, ‘I am glad to have had the -pleasure of meeting you at last, for I have heard your praises sung by -many and was quite anxious to know this little paragon of virtues.’” - -She shuddered as she said this and perhaps the quiver which shook the -clergyman’s frame in his effort at self-control at this mention of the -name Ames had communicated itself to her, and she remained silent for -awhile. - -Again the clergyman’s sympathetic hand sought to soothe and encourage her -by stroking her hair. - -Reassured, she continued: - -“Not long after this I was quite ill, and much to my surprise, -considering my limited acquaintance in the city, received a large box of -American Beauties. The card accompanying them was that of Mr. Ames. On -the back was written, ‘Because you are so like one I used to know.’ - -“I wondered whom he could mean and resolved to ask him the first time I -saw him, yet I felt rather timid because he was quite a stranger to me. -I need have felt no timidity, however, because he embraced the first -opportunity to tell me when we were quite alone that I was so like his -first wife, Laura, the mother of his children. He told me what a good, -true woman the present Mrs. Ames was, and what a good mother she had -made his children, but explained to me that it had been a matter of -convenience on both sides—not a love affair. She had passed the age when -women are most sought and was glad to accept the luxurious home he -offered her, and he was glad to have such a sensible woman for the mother -of his children. - -“It was but a short time after that that Mrs. Ames asked me to come -to her house and make my home with them as one of the family. No one -but myself knew what a God-send that was. My class had been greatly -decreased by a diphtheria scare and my finances were low, and now that -I had no board to pay I could manage very nicely. Everyone at the house -was so kind to me except Mrs. Ames’ mother, who lived with them, and -she seemed to look upon me as an intruder, but I was thoroughly happy -notwithstanding. - -“I was at that time as innocent as a child, with absolutely no knowledge -of the world except what I had seen in my own little sphere. - -“One night Mr. Ames whispered to me that he was coming up to my room at -Mrs. Ames’ request as soon as I retired. I had been in my room but a few -minutes when he tapped on the door. I opened it and let him in. Be drew -me to the window seat and put his arms around me and said: - -“‘Little girlie, I have come to tell you a few things which you or any -other innocent girl ought to know. It is for your own protection that I -tell you. I would that I could spare you the revelation, but I cannot, -for you are unsafe, there are so many unscrupulous men in the world who -would take advantage of innocence.’ - -“I did not understand the drift of his remarks and was half vexed. He -kissed me then for the first time. Then he told me about myself and -about men and women and their relations to each other. - -“It was a great shock to me and I hid my face on his broad shoulder and -cried as if my heart would break. After he had quieted me, we talked a -long time and I could see what a good thing it was that he had told me as -much as he had. - -“It was one night some weeks after this had occurred that Mr. Ames and I -were left alone in the parlor. We had waited a long time for grandma to -retire, and when she finally went he turned out the electric light for a -moment, so that he could take me in his arms and kiss me good-night. It -was a mistake, for grandma stood on the landing above and saw it. - -“Nothing was ever said about it, but I could feel the change in the -atmosphere and luckily, as my school term was out that week, I was -able to leave without occasioning comment. I returned to Chicago with -little money and secured a pleasant room with a private family on Drexel -boulevard. I had not been there a week, when Mr. Ames, to whom I had -promised to send my address, came to see me. I was so discouraged and -blue that his presence was a panacea for all my ills. He laid down on the -couch and asked me to come and sit down beside him, and took me in his -arms. - -“I was just in the state of mind to receive caresses and to return them; -his were balm to my aching heart. He caressed me until—well, I don’t know -how it all happened—if anyone had asked me the next morning if I had done -wrong, I should have said no, with a clear conscience, for I did not -know then that that which a good woman prizes higher than life had been -taken from me. - -“After this he came as often as his business cares would permit, always -the same, tender and true. One day he came as usual and said, ‘I have -planned your vacation trip for the summer, dear, and although it will -deprive me of the pleasure of your company for a long time and I hardly -know how I am going to get along without the sunshine of your presence; -but you are not well and I think the change will do you good.’ - -“Then he unfolded his plan to me. I was to go to Mackinac for the summer. -He gave me $200 when I left. I staid three months and was really very -lonely at times without Fred, but not as lonely as he was without me, for -I had many friends among the young people, while he was obliged to come -to the city regularly and stay for a day or two every week as usual, to -keep up appearance at home. - -“He sent me many pretty little gowns and waists, and showed rare good -taste in their selection, and was so thoughtful in every way that it -was little wonder that I leaned on him more than I realized. And, then, -too, his letters were so beautiful, every one of them breathing of his -devotion to me. When fall came, with it came the thought of what I was -to do to support myself. I came back to Chicago and Fred met me. We had -a long talk and he asked me if I thought I could manage to live on $10 -a week. I felt very rich at the prospect of having an income assured me -every week, and think I enjoyed it, small though it was, more than I did -the days of prosperity that followed. - -“I boarded all winter with a friend who had moved to Chicago during my -absence. The next spring he invested $200 for me and in a year it had -made $5,000. He felt he was better able to provide me with a good home of -my own now, and so he found a beautiful little flat, which he furnished -very cozily. - -“He came to Chicago every week, ostensibly on business, and remained two -days. Of course my living this kind of a life necessitated my giving up -all my former friends; they would wonder and ask questions and rather -than lie, I ostracised myself. - -“I had learned to love him devotedly by this time, for he was so good -to me, my slightest wish was anticipated, and he loved me with such -tenderness as only a strong man can bestow.” - -“Tell me again that he was good to you,” said the clergyman. - -“Why,” she said, wonderingly, her eyes meeting his for the first time -since she began her narrative. - -“I—I only wanted to be reassured of the fact that while Fre—this man, I -mean, had done you the greatest wrong that a man can do a woman, he tried -to make reparation.” - -“Yes, he was good, until—until,” and again her face was drawn in agony -and her frail form quivered, “well, until the time came when he could not -come every week. Business was such that it was impossible, he said. I -grew so lonely that I thought I should die. - -“During this period of loneliness, I met an old school mate on the -street one day. She seemed very glad to see me and insisted on my going -to Rector’s with her, where she had an appointment to dine with her -friend. I went and it was the same old story. Her friend was a strikingly -handsome fellow and I was a pretty girl then,” she said with a wan smile, -“and we became enamored of each other. - -“He asked to call and I allowed him to come. He came often and finally in -a moment of weakness I yielded to his importunities. This was my fatal -mistake. Fred came unexpectedly the next day and I was so remorseful and -conscious stricken that I could not appear natural. He took me gently in -his arms and begged me to tell him what the matter was. I sobbed it all -out to him, yes, every word of the truth, and instead of forgiving me as -he should have done, he tore my arms from about his neck, and threw me -from him. - -“I think I must have fainted, for when I became conscious of my -surroundings, he had gone.” - -The clergyman groaned aloud, but so absorbed was she in her contemplation -of that past, that she did not heed it. - -“I laid on the floor all night, just where he had thrown me. Morning came -and brought with it more misery. A special delivery letter was brought to -me; it contained a draft for $5,000 to be deposited to my credit in the -bank, and a short note saying that he did not wish to see me again. That -my sin had found me out. - -“I was crushed and heartbroken. My illness began with that day. The -doctors say it is pulmonary trouble, but it is not that. It is a -consumption of the heart and brain, and the desire to live vanished when -I knew he had gone out of my life forever.” - -The last words were scarcely audible. The clergyman leaned over her and -took her in his arms and wiped the death sweat from her brow. - -She looked at him and whispered, “Why are you so good to me?” - -He thought a moment, fearing to tell her the truth lest the shock prove -too much for her rapidly ebbing strength, but the pleading eyes were -fixed on his and he could not withhold the truth. - -“Because,” he said, gently, “the man who ruined you is my half brother. -He was younger than I by ten years, and I loved him better than my life -and cared for him after our mother died. I could not believe he would -have done such a thing, had not you yourself told me. I have seen your -picture in their home, and that is why your face seemed so strangely -familiar to me when I first came in. There is but one thing I can do that -will in the least atone for what he has done, and it is this: Marry me -within an hour, that you may at least have a name. I will take you away -with me to a warmer climate and change of scene and you may yet recover -and learn to be happy. I think God must have sent me to you at just the -right time. Will you marry me?” - -He bent over her almost eagerly, longing to hear her say yes, now that he -had made up his mind to make the sacrifice. - -But she had gone where there is neither marrying nor giving in marriage. - - - - -TALE SIXTEEN. - -A STORY OF STAGE LIFE. - -SOUL. - - “But whither went his soul, let such relate - Who search the secrets of the future state; - Divines can say but what themselves believe; - Strong proofs they have, but not demonstrative; - For, were all plain, then all sides must agree, - And faith itself be lost in certainty; - To live uprightly, then, is sure the best, - To save ourselves, and not damn the rest.” - - -“Tired of the stage? Yes, I am tired, but what am I to do?” - -“Don’t you know anything but to sing and dance and act?” - -“Yes and no.” - -“Why not seek other employment?” - -“Simply because I am too energetic; life on the stage is hard work; some -day I suppose I shall break down entirely, then—and then,” she repeated -dreamily, “I don’t know where it will all end.” - -“I am interested,” said the man, as he toyed with the wine glass, which -he had just drained in company with the girl. - -They were seated in what is known as the “cafe” of one of the theaters -of the city wherein humanity is represented in the audience by bald men -and ribald youths; and on the stage by feminine apararies, whose make up -consisted principally of blonde wigs and carmine; some were women of good -figures; some whose figures were in evidence on account of the assistance -the arts of man had rendered nature; some had charms which even the faded -eyes, paint and powder could not hide. - -Each performer had a part to play, which was outlined on the program; -if some were playing a role which was not on the regular line of her -profession, no one seemed to care. - -A large placard, which hung behind the scenes warning the members of the -company from receiving any attentions from any spectator, did not have -the effect which its strict wording would imply. The writer is of the -opinion that the police inspector is the only person who is sure the sign -existed; it being there for his benefit, one cannot think strange if he -did see it and report to the chief that the laws of the state and city -were being complied with. - -The cafe was always well filled between acts, especially during the -thirty minutes intermission which was allowed the performers about midway -of the evening’s entertainment. If I say this time was alloted to give -the performers a breathing spell, I fear that the sympathy that was felt -in each heart for the poor overworked chorus girls, would be felt more in -behalf of the much wanted bar boy, as the numerous parties wrapped on the -tables in their haste to be served first with the liquid refreshments, -which were dealt out to the men and women with the same free hand. - -The girl who did the speaking in the opening of this story, was one of -the first to appear through the stage entrance to the large room, where -classes met in a motley crew. She had caught the gleam of the small brown -eyes of the man in the front box, and as she passed off the stage, she -plainly heard him say, “Go down to the wine room.” - -“Go on and tell me,” he nodded, as the girl said, “Manhattan,” to the -inquiring look of the waiter, who had rushed to the table at a signal -from the man. - -“No,” she said doggedly, “I don’t want to talk; bring me a package of -cigarettes, Otto,” she said, as the waiter moved away. - -“It’s no use; what do you want to know for?” Then the lines around her -mouth became hard, while she tapped the heel of her dancing slippers on -the floor. She may have been pretty; she may have been good and pure at -some time, but the deep laid wrinkles, the flaring nostrils and bleared -eyes told of the long days of hardships and nights of dissipation. - -“Oh, no matter,” said the man, with a shrug of his shoulders. “I just -thought you might have known better days; I have, and thought we might -talk of other times, besides,” said the man leisurely, “I used to be in -the profession.” - -“What line, specialty or legit.?” asked the girl, with a show of interest. - -“Oh, most anything, heavies principally, though.” - -“Why did you leave it?” - -“Went to the bad,” said the man, nonchalantly. - -The man’s remarks had the desired effect; a feeling of closer fellowship -began to develop and that, coupled with the warming up process which the -second cocktail afforded, caused the woman’s tongue to run glibly. - -“Oh, I don’t mind,” she said, between inhalations of cigarette smoke, -“but you see a girl don’t like to break open and tell some stranger all -she knows about herself.” - -“Go on,” said the man, confidently, “I am very much interested. But -first,” he added, “how much time have you? For if you are in danger of -being interrupted, we had best make an appointment to meet later.” - -“Oh, I don’t know,” said the girl in a hard, bantering tone; “you see we -girls are allowed the privilege of entertaining friends, in fact, salary -cuts such a small figure in this joint, that it is absolutely necessary -for us to get some money on the side.” - -“But I hope you don’t expect to get any money from me for just talking -with you; of course I will buy drinks, lunch or anything you like, but -there is where I draw the line. You see I am only a curiosity seeker.” - -“In that case,” said the girl, “I must leave you, for if I am not on the -stage at the call, the manager will have a kick coming.” - -“How do you appease his wrath when you stay away, that is to say, when -you are getting the money?” - -“Oh, that’s different,” said the girl, rising. “I always cut it with him.” - -“Oh, I see,” said the man, musingly. “How much does it take to satisfy -him?” - -“Oh, I guess I can fix him for a dollar.” - -“Then here, I’ll give you the dollar, now we will go into a private wine -room and have a good hour’s chat.” - -“What! and let all these sure things around here go? I guess not! Don’t -you see that old guy over there making eyes at me now? He’s a regular -here and always ready money, too.” - -“Have another drink,” said the man, as he took a cigarette from the -package which the girl held in her hand. - -“All right, I’ll have one more, then bid you good night. I’ll see you -again,” she said reassuringly. - -The man was wise. When the boy brought the drinks, he produced a roll of -tens and twenties, which would cause the eyes of most people to dilate -with greed. - -Tossing a bill on the table, he carelessly placed the roll in his -waistcoat pocket, and when the waiter returned with the change, he -generously insisted on his taking a dollar for the drinks. - -“Now it is my time to buy,” said the girl, before the boy had left the -table. - -“Bring me a whisky sour, and what is yours,” she said merrily as she -leaned over and placed one hand on the man’s knee. - -“I will take a small bottle of beer,” said the man, slowly. - -“Oh, come now, old brown eyes, take something better; some kind of a -mixed drink.” - -“No, please let me have beer; you see I am thirsty. I have drank nothing -but whisky all day.” - -After this speech the man placed his elbows on the table and almost fell -asleep. - -“Come, cheer up, dearie!” said the girl with a slap on the man’s back. - -“Yesh, I’m all right,” said the man, “only you see, I’m so tired let’s -go into a wine room where people won’t see us.” - -“All right,” said the girl, “but first let’s have this drink that’s -coming, then we can tell our waiter where to find us.” - -The girl had forgotten the “old guy,” and seemed only to remember the -visions which floated through the air in the forms of tens and twenties. -She would look at the man hopefully, then her eyes would fall on the vest -pocket on the side furthest from her. - -“How old are you?” asked the man, as he laid his arm along the back of -her chair and gazed steadily into her face, after they had been enclosed -in the wine room. - -“No matter, you don’t care,” she returned, coyly. - -“Yes, but I do. You see, I want you to tell me everything. How old are -you; where were you born; when did you come to Chicago, all?” said the -man, earnestly. - -“I am twenty-four,” she muttered, and she probed the bottom of the glass -with a toothpick for the cherry, which so persistently rolls around in a -cocktail. - -“You look it,” said he, frankly. - -Tears sprang into the girl’s eyes, as she said, “My God, man, if you had -gone through what I have, you would look old, too.” - -“Now come, I did not mean that to hurt, but I am blunt and to the point; -if I have hurt you, forgive me,” said the man. - -“Oh, that’s nothing,” said the girl, “only, you see, I guess I am wrong -someway tonight. I don’t like to swear, and feel too mean to cry.” - -“You seem worried or sad.” - -“No, I am—am—nothing,” said the girl, dreamily. - -“Oh, I guess you are a great deal,” said he, as he passed his hand down -the woman’s bare arm, with a soft caress, from her shoulder to the -hand that hung listlessly at her side. In spite of the man’s maudlin -condition, his touch was soft and gentle; the stroke seemed to soothe the -mind of the girl; tears sprang into her eyes as the man took her hand and -patted it in a kindly manner; hope seemed to take root in her breast and -the man, throwing off all assumption of intoxication, looked her squarely -in the eyes and said: “Come, now, I know you have a story. The thrill -which your soft hand sends through me tells me that you have known better -things, that you have graced a throne more becoming to womanly instincts, -with which your nature is so bountifully supplied.” - -“Don’t, oh please don’t talk like that,” cried the girl, “it—it—makes me -so sad.” - -“Have you ever told your story,” asked the man, paying no attention to -the now sobbing girl. - -“N—o—, but—I have wanted to, oh so much, for some time I shall die, and -while I have sinned much, I want some one to know that I was reared -right, and that even after I had fallen from the great white throne of -purity I had some good thoughts, but I have always been afraid to tell -any one especially since⸺” here the creature broke down entirely, moaning -and writhing in bitter agony. - -“Since when?” asked the man, gently, as she seemed to get her grief -partially under control. - -“Oh, since I have gotten so low.” - -“Come, now, you’re not so bad off, and besides you are going to tell me -the truth, and I am going to believe you, for a woman never gets too -low, even in her own estimation, to tell the truth when she refers to a -beautiful past.” - -“Oh, yes, if it were all as you say, but then I think I will tell you,” -said the girl, bravely. - -“My parents were natives of the New England states. When I was four -years old they removed from our eastern home to a small town in McLean -county, Illinois. My father was a Baptist minister, and I was taught -all the principles of the true Christian and, believe me, I enjoyed the -Sunday-schools, prayer-meetings and all the devotional exercises. Music -always charmed me and when the question arose as to whether or not an -organ should be placed in the church, I think it was due to my influence -over my father that one was installed there, for he opposed it at first. -The most looked for event of the year was Christmas time, for it was the -custom to have a Christmas tree at the church, at which time the music -would excel all other occasions. Once the local paper of our town offered -a fine, large doll (lifelike in every particular) as a prize to the -girl over nine years and under twelve years of age, who would write the -best Christmas story, the stories to be published several weeks before -Christmas. The names of the writers were to be kept secret, while the -patrons of the papers sent in votes denoting their choice; the doll was -given Christmas eve. I think as I now look back over a career that is not -spotless, that the moment when the great wax figure with the big blue -eyes and masses of soft, fluffy hair, the kid body of which was clothed -in the finest array imaginable, was placed in my arms, was the happiest -moment of all my life. I knew I had sent in a story, but never dreamed -of being the winner; my heart was full, my life complete. I had no -longings or dreads; my childish competitors took their defeat like little -women; the next week my parents assisted me in giving my first party and -the invitations were issued only to those dear little friends, who had -competed for the prize; we called it a christening party, for we named -the dollie. - -“Tired, aren’t you?” said the girl. - -“No—go on!” - -“I cannot understand how all this stuff about my dolls, etc., will -interest you.” - -“But you have not always played with dolls,” said the man as he elevated -his brows. - -“I am sorry to say I have not. The next important event of my life -was the death of my father, which caused my first real sadness. I was -fourteen then; how well I remember the night after we buried all that was -left of our dear protector. I dressed for bed, then, as was my custom, -went to say good-night to papa and mamma; my prayers were always said at -my father’s knee; that night from force of habit I went from the door -of my room and walked straightway to my father’s chair and was just -bowing my head as I prepared to kneel, when the vacant chair caught my -eye. Oh, sir! I can’t tell you how desolate, how dreary I felt when I -fully realized that the blessed privilege of snuggling into his lap and -putting my arms around his neck and having a good talk with him was gone -forever; my father always trusted me as a good friend and companion, -confiding in me and often advising with me on different topics pertaining -to his sermons, so that even at this tender age I was well advanced in -mental training; he never told me no if I asked him if I should read a -certain book, or go any place, or do anything; if my act did not meet -his approval he never indulged in a long lecture about disobedient and -headstrong children, but would take me gently into his arms and say, -‘Now, let’s see, we will talk it over,’ and before I left him I would -know and understand why my contemplated step was wrong and no amount of -persuasion would induce me to go contrary to his wishes. Not only would -he cause me to see things his way on these occasions, but he would insert -some request, some little point he wanted me to look up in the Bible or -history for him, so that my mind became so full of interest in doing -these things that my own ideas were submerged. I was told once by a girl -friend who was hurt at some little indiscretion on my part that I need -not be so smart, my father was not always a preacher, while I, in the -full confidence of religion and clerical importance, naturally supposed -that he had been and replied to her sharply that ‘I knew better.’ - -“‘Well, I know better, too,’ she retorted, ‘for my papa knew him when he -was a bad, wicked man, so there, now!’ - -“I was so hurt and humiliated that I burst into tears, and made no reply -but went home and running into my father’s arms, I cried and sobbed until -I was sure I should die; it was a long time before I could calm myself -sufficiently to answer questions which my father and mother poured in -upon me. Finally I told them the circumstances; I noted the pallor which -spread over papa’s face, but mistook it. I thought he was angry. - -“In about thirty days from that time my father was called to go to the -country, some sixteen miles, to officiate at the funeral of an old member -of his flock. The day was bitter cold; the wind howled, while the snow -went swirling and drifting everywhere. It was necessary for him to drive; -he arrived home late that night, chilled and benumbed from the cold and -exposure; in three days pneumonia had added poor papa to its long list of -victims. - -“A parson’s salary is not a source of large bank accounts, and by the -time all the expenses which were incurred by the illness and death of -my father were paid we were without means; then the regulation donation -party was inaugurated and by that means we were put in possession of a -sufficient amount of the necessities of life to exist on for several -months, and to help, the official board met and passed a resolution that -they would not engage a regular pastor for the remainder of the winter, -so mamma and I could ‘just as well’ live in the parsonage right along -until further notice. Christmas passed that year with as much sadness -in it for me as there had been joy and pleasure in the preceding ones; -cold, dreary winter days did nothing to enhance the value of our lives; -then came spring, ushered in by the songs of birds and the breath of -roses. The official board met again and a new pastor was called to take -the place of him who had been the light of my life. The members of the -church were not thoughtless by any means, for they, in their goodness, -provided for us; in a certain town in Eastern Indiana there is a Baptist -hospital; it was through the generous and kindly directed influence of my -father’s flock that my mother was offered the position of matron of this -institution. We took up our abode there and it was there that my real -life began. - -“When I was fifteen years old I tried my hand at writing again, but not -for a doll this time; I was successful enough to have a story received by -a popular magazine, for which they paid me fifty dollars. This brought -me not a little notoriety and I was asked to join a literary club and -practically taken into the arms of the social leaders of the town. If I -say I was good looking, I do so only because others declared such to be -the case. I seemed to be a favorite; I was much wanted at the different -social functions for I had learned to play and sing. It was little wonder -that when a young man came into the city and arranged with the Ladies’ -Club to produce an opera, solely with local talent, that my name was -mentioned as being the one for the leading part. The part required youth, -grace, modesty and vigor, a combination which the director told me was -not easily found. - -“‘The Little Tycoon’ was the title of the production. My part was a -singing part and it required much training and long practice. I strove to -please the young man who had the affair in charge and worked many hours -after the other performers had gone home. The young man, Leon La Dew, was -also greatly interested in my success and he spent hour upon hour with -me that I might attain the proficiency which I aspired to reach. - -“The entertainment was a success from every standpoint, so much so, that -hundreds were turned away and by request it was repeated on the following -night; after the last performance, I hurried home with my mother, as -I had upon all occasions of rehearsal during the preparations for the -event. Next day the papers were full of praise for the participants, many -of them getting what we now call a ‘special.’ An interview with Mr. La -Dew held a conspicuous place on the first page. He lauded all the people -who had so ably assisted, and the interview closed by saying, ‘Mr. La Dew -informs the press that much of the success of the performance was due to -the excellent work of Miss Althea Noble, in fact, Mr. La Dew assures us -that should Miss Noble aspire to the stage as a profession, she, without -a doubt, has a great future before her.’ - -“How my heart throbbed, how my blood surged. I was not stage struck, I -actually abhorred the thought of it, but I had been praised by Mr. La -Dew. I wept with joy; he had been so kind, so sweet and tender, never -scolding or fretting when we girls made blunders, he had just that even, -patient temperament which will conquer all things, and he was rather -handsome, too. Not strikingly so, but so much so, that if he suddenly -came into a room crowded with people, no matter how unassuming he might -appear, everyone would see him. Then for me there was a familiar look -and attraction in his manner. I felt as if I had known him always. I -once expressed my feelings about him to mamma, and she explained that -the feeling was born of a memory, Mr. La Dew being the first man I had -associated with in any manner since my father’s death. I accepted her -explanations for the time, but before Mr. La Dew was gone from the town -three days, I knew I was in love. On the fifth day, after he had gone, -I ran to my mother, uttering screams of delight, all brought about by -reason of a letter which I pushed into her hands as she gazed at me in -an amazed way. The letter was from him. It said, ‘I have arranged to put -on “The Little Tycoon” here (a near-by town), but am unable to fill the -part which you so ably took in your home town; I showed the ladies here -the press notices, whereupon they insisted on my asking you to help us -out here, hence this letter. Now, if you can be prevailed upon to come, -please advise me by wire. You will, of course, be liberally compensated. - - “‘Yours respectfully, - - “‘LEON LA DEW.’ - -“I insisted so hard that my mother finally said in a relenting tone, ‘of -course, we could use the money.’ - -“I went several days before the performance. I was to assist Mr. La Dew -in drilling some of the characters; I was housed in the home of one of -the best families in the city and the lady of the house was all a mother -could be. I was protected in every way and Leon was so good, so kind and -gentle. - -“On the afternoon of the performance, we were very, very busy at the -theater, everything in a turmoil, so I told my hostess that after the -last full-dress rehearsal she could run on home and dress and that I -would stay and assist in getting everything in shape for the evening. At -six o’clock I tapped on the door of the managers’ office and told Mr. La -Dew that I would run out, get some supper and return, so that I could be -there to help some of the young ladies with their ‘make-up.’ - -“‘No,’ said he, ‘I have sent out and within ten minutes our suppers will -be here; I cannot leave and there is no use in your going out, Miss -Noble.’ - -“We waited but a short time until the boy arrived with our suppers. - -“If I sang better that night, if the roses seemed sweeter and the music -more dreamy, if I at times imagined that the flitting forms on the stage -were angels and that I, too, held a harp and chanted the songs of the -seraphs, it was all because Leon had told me of his love. I did not act -that night, I just lived my part in the ecstacy of my new found joy. When -I went home, Leon went with me. We told my mother all; our whole life’s -plans were changed. We quickly arranged for Leon and me to marry. Mother -was to leave her position and we were all to travel in the same line, in -which Leon had established himself. I disliked the business, but with the -assurance that he would save our earnings and enter into some business in -the future that would be more to my liking, I consented. Oh, the joy, the -happiness of true love. It now seemed that all the world was bright and -cheery. We had no time to lose, as Leon had engagements to fill. After -our plans were completed Leon said to me, ‘Althea, dearest, I want to -have a talk with you, there is something I want to tell you.’ - -“What is it, Leon?” said I, as my heart stopped with a throb. - -“He, perceiving my agitation, took my face in his two dear hands, and -kissed my brow. - -“‘Oh, it is not much, darling, only I must tell you. I know your love for -me will make things all right.’ - -“‘Well, Leon, tell me;’ as anxious as I was to hear his round full tones, -I trembled with fear. I never knew why I felt that way. - -“‘I must tell you,’ he continued, ‘something of my past life.’ - -“‘Oh, never mind, Leon, I know you are nothing but a dear, good boy, and -I will not believe anything else of you.’ - -“‘No, Althea, it is not that, for believe me, I love you too much to have -caused you pain by spoiling your life by my own association if I thought -I were not worthy, but there is a blot on the abstract of my life and -before it is too late, I must tell you all.’ - -“I begged of him to keep the secret, but no, he was too honest. - -“‘My mother was like you, Althea, a sweet, innocent girl; the man who -is my father I have never known, but he, like myself, was theatrically -inclined; he came to the town which was my mother’s home and much the -same as in our case, my mother took the leading role in the production -which he was playing; he became infatuated with her, they were quietly -married, but he soon became tired, deserted her, and there was a life -with all the glory and sweetness taken out of it. My mother died from -disgrace, when I was eight; she held me in her arms and told me the -story, then giving me a locket, which contained my father’s picture, -‘take this,’ said she, ‘and when you are a man, find him if you can; be -gentle with him and tell him I died thinking of him.’ - -“‘And have you the locket, Leon?’ I cried eagerly. - -“‘Yes, here it is.’ - - * * * * * - -“I regained consciousness, surrounded by friends; all I could see as I -slowly opened my eyes, was a little gold locket. The picture which it -contained was that of my father. - -“No amount of coaxing or force would cause me to tell what the cause of -the shock was; as soon as I revived sufficiently to talk, I asked for -Leon. When he came I signified a desire to be left alone with him and -told him all, then the dear, generous brother, that he was, insisted on -taking my mother into the secret. That is where I blundered. In order to -spare my poor mother the pain and anguish which I knew the news would -bring, I objected. Leon and I argued the matter, he contending that he -could at least go on with our plans in regard to the show business; he -could at least assist me on to fame, but no, I would not agree with him. -He finally left me in as much misery as he himself was surrounded with. -I have seen him twice since then, once, soon after I came to Chicago and -adopted the stage, for I was compelled to seek employment. My fainting -spell which occurred while all alone with Leon was food and drink for the -‘I told you so’s’ of the little town where I had sprung into popularity -in spite of the fact that some of the more conservative residents -insisted on saying that ‘nobody really knows what she is.’ - -“I left mamma there; when I arrived here I applied to one of the most -fashionable play houses in the city. They were in need of chorus girls; -my voice was tried and I was told to go to the costumer’s for my -wardrobe; that worthy gentleman handed me a large paper box, saying, with -a sardonic grin, ‘if they are too tight be careful about stooping in -them, for they might split and we are short on outfits right now.’ - -“They. I wondered for a moment what he meant; tears sprang to my eyes -when I unfolded the silken tights, which the box contained. I proceeded -to take each article from the box, tights, fancy hose, girdle, etc., -hardly enough clothes to make a respectable suit of underwear, still -I was to appear under the glare of strong lights, before hundreds of -pleasure-seeking people in this scanty array. I thought of my mother, -then Leon, and with a shudder of indignation I thought of my father as I -had seen him the last time. I cried some, then with the feeling that it -was not all my fault, I managed to get into the abbreviated garments and -reported to the stage manager for full-dress rehearsal. - -“‘Zound!’ I heard the musical director say, ‘where did you pick that one -up?’ - -“‘Oh, from the country,’ replied the manager. - -“A giggle ran along the rows of girls at this sally. - -“I took naturally to the work, and at the end of the rehearsal was told -by the director to ‘come on’ for that evening’s performance, ‘but mind, -my little scared dear, make up some.’ I failed to understand him, for if -the clothes which I wore were supposed to fit a good figure, I felt that -I filled the bill, for the costume was very snugly fitted; at last it -dawned upon me that it was my face, so I asked some of the older girls -to make me up. I was sent from one to another, until one girl, who seemed -to be a little new, told me to go to Dollie Squires. ‘She can do it and -if she does, the director is sure to be pleased, for she is Prof’s pet, -and she knows what will please him.’ - -“Of course it was my desire to make the best appearance possible, it was -simply a matter of business, so I trusted all to Dollie. When I went on -in the first scene, the titter which fluttered around the stage almost -spoiled the act. Little did I dream that it was I who was the innocent -cause of all the sensation among the performers, until after the curtain -had been drawn. - -“I had seen Leon in the audience. I was most miserable lest he should -recognize me; my fear was changed to hurt, however, when the musical -director ran pell mell all over the stage until he found me. - -“‘Who made you up?” said he. - -“I told him. He raved, he tore, and stormed; his language was so bitter -and I was so hurt that I was unable to go on any more that night. Next -day he came to me in a more quiet manner and explained that he had -intended to ‘feature’ me and that my make up had so horrified him that he -really lost his temper. It took days for me to see clearly that Dollie -put up the job on me, because she was jealous, but such was the case, -and I could thank her for one thing, that being that Leon had failed to -penetrate the disguise which she had placed upon me. - -“Then there was a ceaseless round of rehearsals; during the day and in -the evening after a general mix up of legs, bare arms, slippers and -tights, in the main dressing-room, the call boy would summon us to -appear in the first act. The music, the lights and the favors which -men heaped upon me did much to keep the excitement at a fever heat. -How well I remember the first pay day, I paid my little bills with the -importance of a king of Wall street. Flowers filled my room each day, -and if I became a favorite it was simply because I worked with a desire -to please. One day the musical director stopped me as I was going out of -the theater; we had quite a talk, all in an undertone and all in regard -to my work. He was simply advising me; as I started away, Dollie Squires -stepped from behind a wing. - -“‘It’s a wonder you wouldn’t talk to that country girl all day,’ she said -to the Prof. - -“I was too intensely exercised at the remark to reply; I went to my room -and related the incident to Bertha Walls, my room-mate. She laughed loud -and long. - -“‘That is good,’ she finally said, as she struggled for breath. - -“‘Why?’ said I. - -“‘Because, you see, she is jealous and I am glad of it. Go in, little -country girl, and show her a thing or two.’ - -“‘Nothing to be gained by that,’ said I. - -“‘Yes there is, she is as mean as the old scratch, not a girl likes her, -and if she doesn’t make you trouble, I’ll lose my guess.’ - -“‘How can she make me trouble?’ - -“‘Easy enough. If she wants you put out of the company, out you go. You -see, she is a pet of the Prof’s, and if he kicks on your work, Althy, -your time is up.’ - -“‘But she won’t do that, will she?’ - -“‘Sure she will; she has put lots of girls out of business in this house.’ - -“Next night as I left the stage door a hand was laid on my arm, and, -looking up, I saw Leon. I was glad, yet sorry to see him. - -“‘Althea,’ said he, ‘I bring you bad news.’ - -“‘What can it be?’ I asked. - -“‘Your mother is very ill.’ - -“I questioned him closely and learned that my mother had been sick abed -for ten days. He had set out to find me, and if possible, persuade me -to return home, but I could not do that, much as I wished to, for I was -now a bread-winner and the support of an afflicted mother. My argument -won, and he finally left me; it was not long until I needed him, for -the second day after that I received notice that my contract would be -canceled at the end of the week. - -“What was I to do? I told some of the girls, and one of them, a little -brunette, said to me, ‘Well, I am leaving the company this week, anyway, -and I don’t mind telling you where your trouble started.’ - -“‘Tell me please,’ said I. - -“‘Dollie Squires, of course.’ - -“‘But I have never harmed Dollie; tell me some way that I can become -reinstated.’ - -“‘Go to the musical director, he is the power behind the throne.’ - -“I went. That night I went to lunch with him after the performance. Next -day, Dollie, on small pretext, assailed me in an unmerciful manner; she -heaped abuse upon my head. I said nothing when she had finished, but had -the regulation cry; when I came out I came with teeth set hard, what was -the use? My condition was not to be considered. My poor mother was a -deceived and ruined woman, my father whom I had worshiped as a divinity, -was a bigamist and a seducer. The blight was on me. My mother was ill; it -was due to my father’s misstep that I was placed where I now was. I must -now feed, clothe, and house the woman whose life he had ruined. - -“Professor Riggles was ugly, red-faced and slouchy in his habits, but he -told me his wife objected to his dressing better, and besides, he was -so wrapped up in his music that he cared little, in fact, there was not -much in this world to make him happy. I was touched by his pitiful story. -I asked him how Dollie happened to have such an influence over him; he -laughed and said she was a willful, headstrong girl. - -“The fact that I could hurt her never entered my head until I was -dressing for the first call after she had abused me so, when I overheard -a conversation between two of the girls. - -“‘I wish she would,’ said one, ‘it would be just good enough for her, and -if Althy would try she could make herself so solid with old Rig. that he -would throw that smarty Squires out.’ - -“That was enough, I had nothing to lose. - -“Just before the overture, Prof. Riggles came on the stage and left a -note with the call boy for me. It said, ‘Meet me at the ⸺ Hotel, twelve -tonight.’ - -“I was curious to know why it should take him so long to go the short -distance (for we always got out at 10:45). I watched and when he left, -Dollie was with him. I saw them get into a carriage and drive rapidly -south; I began to dream and wonder what it all meant, then like ‘a good -little girl’ I went to the appointed place and waited; he came at twelve; -we had a dinner, some wine, and then⸺” the girl snapped the stub of a -cigarette across the small room, during the pause. - -“After Prof, had gone from the room next morning I found a door key on -the floor, which, as I afterwards learned, had fallen from his pocket. -That night I was placed in a more prominent part in the piece. I was -kindly received; my old admirers were joined by numerous new ones; after -the show Prof. Riggles came to me and said, ‘my girl, you did fine.’ - -“Dollie Squires never spoke to me after that; she told some of the girls -that she ‘would put me to sleep.’ When the time came for me to leave, I -simply asked the Prof. if he could assist me to a place; he told me that -the leading lady was suffering from a cold and that I was to rehearse for -the understudy’s part in the piece as I might be called at any time. - -“When the director made the announcement on the stage that I would be -called to play the leading role and the entire company should stay for -two rehearsals, Dollie ‘went up in the air.’ She flew into a rage, then -into hysterics, for she was supposed to be the next girl up. - -“She left the theater in a rage; the next day at noon, I received a -note from Prof. Riggles, telling me to come to a certain number on the -south side. I went and was let into a handsomely furnished flat, by a -colored maid. I found the Prof. in bed with a bullet hole in his arm. -He explained to me how he had been held up the night before. It was a -week before he could attend to his duties, meantime, I continued to take -the leading role each day, not because I loved him, but from a point -of appreciation I took many of the flowers which I received the night -previous and arranged them in his room. One day I asked him where his -wife was. - -“‘Oh, over on the west side,’ he said. - -“‘But had you not better go home?’ - -“‘No, not until the measly arm gets good. You see, Althy, I am in New -York now, working on a new piece.’ - -“Presents of every form and description poured in upon me; I was wined -and dined; poor little simpering fool, I thought it was life. Men -insisted on paying my bills; I received money as tokens of kindness. - -“So great was the line of my gifts, that on each pay-day I was able to -send my mother all my salary. Silk from the skin out, my head adorned -with the most exquisite Parisian creations, and some blithering idiot -always at my heels. Is it any wonder my head was turned? - -“When the Prof. recovered he told me that the apartment in which I had -visited him was to be my home; my breath almost failed me, but the -arrangements were quickly made, then there was a long series of late -dinners in my flat; no home had more luxuries; I received many callers. -It was not until this had been going on for three months that I was -awakened, then I got a letter from Dollie. She was living in a house in -a disreputable part of the city; she told me it was she who had shot -the Prof., ‘and if you knew,’ she said, ‘that old Rig. gets from five to -fifty dollars from every one he introduces to you, you would make him -divide. You need not think he gets all he spends on you from his salary.’ - -“Of course I did not believe it. She closed by saying that the home I now -occupied had once been her own, and of course, I, in time, must give up -to some one else, ‘for you will grow tired of being his dog, and you had -as well come where I am.’ - -“I asked Prof. about it all and he persuaded me to believe that she was -only indulging in sour grapes. A few days later I managed to win favor -in the eyes of the colored girl by giving her a bright red skirt that -an admirer from Milwaukee had insisted on buying for me; the next day I -clinched the compact by presenting her with a heavy gold chain, which had -also been placed at my disposal by some country bumpkin. Then as I handed -her a glass of wine, I said, ‘Alice, what was the girl’s name who was -here just before I was, I mean the one who shot Prof?’ - -“‘Oh, honey, doan you know?’ - -“I have forgotten the last name. Dollie somebody, wasn’t it?’ - -“‘Yes, honey, dat jes it, Dollie Squires,’ she said as she smacked her -wine laden lips. Then she told me the whole story. I heard her through, -went to my room, took a key from my dresser drawer and tried it in -the front door. That night I gave the Professor the key and told him -everything I knew. He grew pale and quivered like an aspen leaf. I would -have killed him if I had been armed. - -“The season closed; I visited my mother, took her up into the mountains -and resolved to tell her all, but while there she improved so rapidly -and seemed so happy at my success as a singer, that my heart failed me. -I could not take away the little sweetness that remained in her life; -it only spurred me on to greater deeds, when day by day I saw her eyes -grow brighter, her cheeks take on a healthy glow, her voice become more -cheery, I actually could not end it all. - -“When the season opened I left her and came back, back to the theater -with its rows of light and entrancing music, back to the dinners and -flowers and back to the flat and Riggles, for my mother I could do all. -I was soon relieved of that responsibility, for mother died suddenly one -day. I went home and for fear that her spirit might learn what I knew in -regard to my father, I took all that remained and the casket containing -the same, and buried it beside the only man she had loved. It was a -cold, dreary day; snow, which was half rain when it struck the streets, -was sifting heavily through the air. I arrived from the scene of death -over the Burlington route; when I reached the Union Station it was eight -o’clock, the atmosphere seemed tuned to my oppressed frame of mind; I -thought to walk part way up town. I had gone but a short distance when I -met a little girl about seven years old; she stopped me to beg. I looked -her over, and there, under the flickering light, I saw a pinched face, -so poor and thin that the drawn mouth only added pity to the expression -of the big, blue eyes; the little calico frock which the wind whipped -tightly around her skinny form looked as though it would fall to pieces -with each gust. The pale forehead was made more ghostly by the large -blue veins that were plainly seen, while the one poor little plait of -hair seemed to add loneliness to the big, white ears, that I could see -through. - -“‘Where do you live?’ was my first remark. - -“‘Oh, ma’m, I—I—don’t want to tell you, it isn’t a bit nice place, but -you see, we can’t help it; mamma, she is sick and papa don’t have work -all the time, and grandma, she is sick and papa he has to go stay at her -house three nights a week, and that leaves mamma and me awful lonesome -sometimes, but mamma told me to-day that she guessed she’d die before -long, then I would go and live with grandma, then I could see papa every -day. But, please, ma’m, I don’t want mamma to die; I don’t want to live -with grandma, and I des know if mamma had somethin’ to eat she wouldn’t -die, either.’ - -“I went with the child. I thanked God for having found her. Such a -wretched place to live; four dingy rooms on an alley, a poor, miserable -cook stove, made all the heat the apartment had. A grimy, smoking -kerosene lamp in the hands of the child, led me to a coop of a bedroom -and there, amid a pile of soiled and torn rubbish that had at some time -been entitled to the name bed clothing, lay a half starved, pain-racked -wretch, called woman, in filth too great for a beast, in pain too intense -for a strong man to bear, burning with fever and shivering with chills, -and at the same time moaning, tossing and suffering only as a neglected -soul and body can suffer. - -“I spoke to her; she tried to sit up in bed, but fell back with a wild -stare which told that it would require but little excitement to bring -an end to all her suffering. I went out and bought everything I could -think of; I can even now feel a tinge of happiness, as I think of how -I ordered the best imported delicacies; I bought coal, a new lamp, and -sent a doctor. That night, when I arrived at my elaborately furnished -apartments, I sat in my satin house robe and slippers and as my maid -brushed my hair I compared my surroundings with those I had visited -earlier in the evening, and became happy. - -“At midnight the Prof. came; I had concluded I would not tell him of my -experience of the evening; it was none of his business and now that mamma -was gone, I had no one to care for and I could spend some of my salary in -helping some poor soul. - -“Next day I called on my patient, as I called her, again; this time I -superintended and assisted in placing a new mattress and clean linen and -blankets on the bed, then, after calling the janitor’s wife, and having -her put a new gown on the woman, I left. I could not return that evening -as I had notified the manager that I would be on for my part and the -Prof. was going home with me after the theater, so I planned to go the -next night after the performance, for he told me that he had been away -from home two consecutive nights, and he ‘must show up’ at home that -night. He bade me good-night, when I got into the carriage. My driver -started out in the usual way for home, but owing to pre-arranged plans, -turned west as soon as we were out of sight of the theater. I was soon -in the sickroom and was delighted to see a great improvement; I carried -my arms full of flowers and when the bedside was reached, the poor woman -said, ‘Oh, these dear roses; that reminds me of when my husband used to -have steady work at the theater, he nearly always brought home flowers -that some of the ladies would give him, for he could not well afford to -buy them, and me sick. Oh, you don’t know, Miss, what a burden I have -been to him.’ - -“‘Did you say your husband was at some time employed at a theater,’ I -asked, with bright visions of what a star might be able to do to get him -a place. - -“‘Yes, more than two years ago.’ - -“‘Tell him to come to me at the ⸺ theater tomorrow, and I will see if I -cannot get him a place.’ - -“‘Oh, then⸺’ - -“The words were stopped by the sound of a key in the lock and the little -girl running toward the door, shouting, ‘Oh, it’s papa, I know, for he -said he’d come home to-night.’ - -“How my heart bounded to think I could say some encouraging word to that -husband and father; my lips were shaped ready to speak my thoughts when -the child came into the room aglow and excited, trying to tell what a -good lady had done. I suppose I should have fainted when I looked up and -saw the Prof., but I didn’t. I arose and extended my hand, saying to -the little girl as I drew her to me with my left arm, ‘and this is your -papa,’ well, I am glad, so glad that I waited until you came, Mr. Rig; -‘Riggles,’ he stammered, as it slowly dawned upon him that I did not mean -to disclose the truth. - -“I arranged to meet him the next day and assist him in procuring a -position. We met; I told him a few things; the fourth day after, I went -to his home in my own carriage, took his wife and child to my erstwhile -flat, explained to them that he had secured the position and could afford -them a better home. - -“That was the last ride I ever took in my own private carriage. I sold my -horses, carriage, all my jewelry and many fine gowns, placed the proceeds -where Mrs. Riggles could draw a fixed sum weekly, then I sailed for -Europe. But a star in America is not always a star in a foreign country. -I stuck it out three years and then returned. - -“Riggles? Oh, well, his wife died, he took up with Dollie Squires again, -and a double suicide in a Clark street resort put an end to his career -along with Dollie’s. - -“The little girl? She grew up sweet like her mother; she is in a convent -now, be out soon, then my work is done.” - - - - -TALE SEVENTEEN. - -A TRIP ACROSS THE LAKE. - - “When Happiness comes knocking at my door, - I may not lift the latch to let her in, - Because, ah me! one forced his way before— - The ugly phantom of an ancient Sin.” - - -“It is a strange thing for me to want to tell you my story, but something -about you inspires me with a desire to confide in you, even though I have -not known you long.” - -The speaker was tall with the angularity of an undeveloped school girl, -although self-confessed twenty-one years of age. She had bright, laughing -eyes, a large mouth, whose thick lips left an impression of coarseness. -Her hair was very heavy and dark, and she wore it dressed low over her -left eye, in the style of the day, which gave her an unnecessarily rakish -appearance. Yet, notwithstanding her unprepossessing appearance, there -was an indescribable something about her which drew one to her. - -I assured her that I appreciated her confidence and thanked her for it. - -“My parents were Methodists, and while I was carefully trained, they did -not keep me under such strict surveillance that I was not able to have -many liberties. At fifteen I was as large as I am now, and was in for -every bit of fun there was going. I always had a crowd with me, and -we rode our wheels everywhere (it was when the wheel craze was at its -height). I played the piano then even more than I do now, and lots of -times we would ride out to the parks and go to one of the club houses in -the vicinity to rest and I would play the piano and they would dance. So -the spring was passed, and mamma never reprimanded me if I was in the -house by ten or ten thirty. She must have thought no harm could befall me -as long as there was a crowd with me. - -“One day mamma gave me permission to go to St. Joe with one of my girl -friends. We left on the nine o’clock boat, and were to return on the one -which arrives at midnight. We crossed without incident worthy of note. -On the return I noticed a tall, fine looking fellow watching us. He -was sitting on the upper deck. Girl like, my friend and I started up a -flirtation. He came over and talked to us and finally my friend asked me -to play. I did, and I have thought since that perhaps that was my chief -attraction for him then, as he was very fond of music. In the meantime -my friend had found some one to take up her time and Jack and I went up -on deck by ourselves. We sat side by side and the gentle motion of the -boat, the moon shining on the waters, the soft, warm breeze floating past -us, were enchanting and very conducive to love-making. He was much older -than I, but that made no difference to me. I thought only of the romantic -situation, and wondered if fate had brought this prince of men to me. He -kissed me and loved me as I had not imagined in my fondest dreams, and I -drank it all in, and returned it with interest. - -“Before the boat reached Chicago he gave me his name and address, and I -had given him mine, and it was arranged that we should correspond. For -several weeks I heard from him regularly and then came a long silence. At -first I was hopeful, but at last my hope gave way to doubt, and I became -morose. I refused to eat and became as miserable as a sentimental girl of -fifteen could possibly be. I left school, finally, having prevailed upon -my mother to allow me to learn stenography. She consented, thinking, I -presume, that it was the best thing that could be done as long as I was -in my present frame of mind, although the cause of it was all a mystery -at the time. - -“One night when I came home from school, I found a letter from the -Alexian Brothers’ hospital, telling me of the severe illness of Jack, -and that if I would see him alive, I must come at once. My heart was -almost bursting with its strain of conflicting emotions. At one moment I -was on the mountain top, filled with joy at the thought that he had not -forgotten me; the next, down in the valley of despair, fearing his death. - -“I told mamma the whole occurrence, and while she did not approve of -an acquaintance made in such a way, she concluded to go with me to the -hospital. When we arrived we talked to the nurse a few moments, and -she told us that he had constantly called for Carrie in his delirium. -He never mentioned my last name, and as a last resort they thought of -looking through all his effects to see if there was anything among them -which would throw light on the subject. - -“In his coat pocket they found his last letter to me, which he had -evidently not sent for some reason, and in this way they learned my -address. They thought it best for mamma to remain outside at first, until -they saw what effect, if any, my presence had upon him. - -“I went up to the cot and kneeled beside it, putting my cool hand on his -burning forehead, and whispered ‘Jack’ very softly. - -“He ceased his ravings and seemed to be listening. I repeated his name -and he murmured ‘Carrie.’ - -“That was the turning point in his disease. The fever abated and I -continued to visit him almost daily, sometimes in company with mamma, -sometimes alone. Mamma liked him very much indeed, and soon lost sight of -the way I met him. - -“When he had recovered sufficiently to go out, he came over to our -house. He won papa over directly, a feat I had feared far more than that -of winning mamma, for he was so set in his ways. He improved the first -opportunity to ask papa for my hand, and he consented on condition that -we wait one year at least, for he thought I was too young to assume the -responsibilities of married life. So it was arranged. I continued with -my shorthand, and after I finished found a nice position in a lawyer’s -office. - -“Jack would give me no peace until I would consent to marry him secretly. -He said he was afraid he would lose me. So one day we stole away and were -married. He was very tender with me, and taught me the beauty of married -relations, so slowly and gently, that I was not shocked, as I might -have been had he been different. To outward appearances he was only the -devoted lover and I, being his fiancee, he was allowed to call as often -as he chose and stay as late as he liked, for my parents had implicit -confidence in him. - -“One day, six months after we were married, a strange man called at the -office to see me. I met him with a great deal of trepidation, fearing, I -don’t know what. - -“‘Is your name Carrie Barnes?’ said he. - -“I said, ‘Yes, what do you want?’ - -“‘Do you know one Jack Bates?’ - -“‘I do,’ said I, now thoroughly aroused to anger. ‘Is it any of your -business if I do?’ - -“He looked at me kindly, yet gravely, and replied in even tones, ‘I am -sorry to say it is some of my business, and a very unpleasant business at -that.’ - -“Then he asked me if there was not a private office where he could talk -his business over with me. So I took him into Mr. Walton’s private office. - -“He said, ‘Will you tell me what you know of Mr. Bates?’ - -“I told him I didn’t know anything against him, if that was what he was -waiting to hear me say. - -“‘Will you tell me what your relations are with him?’ - -“I could feel the blood leaving my face, and I must have repeated his -question, for he said, ‘Yes, tell me whether you have ever had any -relations with him which you should not hold.’ - -“‘I will not tell you a thing,’ said I. ‘Who are you and what do you mean -by asking me such questions?’ - -“He was exasperated, I suppose, by my impudence, for he said, ‘I’ll tell -you my business. I am an attorney representing my client, and in his -behalf I am tracing the career of Jack Bates. It is known that he has -been to your home frequently, and that you have been out together a great -deal. It will be to your advantage to tell all you know.’ - -“At this critical juncture, I heard Mr. Walton coming. I ran out in the -hall to meet him and managed to gasp out, ‘I want to see you a minute.’ - -“I told him what the man had said, and he said, ‘Carrie, tell me all -about it. What do you know about him?’ - -“Then I told him we were married, and had been for six months. He scowled -and said, ‘Bad, very bad. I advise you to tell the gentleman the whole -affair, just as it is. Do not try to protect the man; let him stand on -his own merits.’ - -“So I went back to the attorney. - -“‘Well,’ he said, ‘are you ready to tell me all you know?’ - -“‘Yes,’ I said, ‘but I have not much to tell. It is only this. Mr. Bates -and I were married six months ago, so I guess even you will admit that we -had a right to be seen together often, if we chose to.’ - -“He said, ‘My child, I am sorry to be obliged to tell you, but the -fact of the matter is, you are not his legal wife. I am representing -the father of a girl fifteen years old, whom he has seduced, and in my -investigations I have learned that he has a legal wife and one child -living.’ - -“How do people live through such awful ordeals, yet possess their senses? -I was young and believe that was my only salvation. The world turned -suddenly as dark as death; all the sunshine and mirth had gone out of -it. That night when I went home I saw other girls laughing and talking as -if they had not a care in the world, and I wondered how they could do it. -I was still stunned by the awful blow which had fallen upon me. I might -have found a little consolation in talking to Jack, but even that was -denied me, for the attorney told me that he had been taken into custody, -arrested on the charge of seduction. - -“I did not know what to do. I could not tell my parents of my marriage, -for I knew my father’s pride and sternness, and I feared he would turn me -out of doors when he knew the truth. I managed to live through the night -somehow, and dragged myself to the office the next morning. Mr. Walton -asked me if I had told my parents and I told him I had not, and asked him -to break the news to me, which he consented to do. - -“After he had gone I sat in the office trembling for the result. - -“He came back at last, after what seemed to me an interminable length -of time, and told me to go home. Mamma took me in her arms and tried to -console me, but papa ignored my presence entirely and refused to speak to -me for months. - -“When Jack came to trial they brought his wife to appear against him; -that is, it went against him, of course. She was a sweet young woman, -just the age that I am now, twenty-one years, and he had married her as -soon as she came out of the convent. I was not able to go on the witness -stand, the shock of the whole thing had proved too much for me, so they -took my deposition and the trial went on without me.” - -“What was the result of the trial?” I asked. - -“He was sentenced to a term in Joliet, and is serving his time there now, -and I never want to see his hateful face again. - -“His wife came to see me and brought her little year-old girl with her. -The dear little thing was as bright and sweet as she could be, and my -heart went out to both of them. Later, Jack’s mother came to see me, bent -and worn with her grief and the disgrace her only son had brought upon -her.” - -“And what became of the other girl?” - -“Oh, she died of a broken heart, so they say. What a world of misery one -man can create! - -“I was very ill for a long time, and when I recovered my father felt very -differently toward me; he seemed to be reconciled to the affair, and I -was fully forgiven. - -“I simply existed for two years, not caring for anything. I met Harold -about this time, and you know the rest. - -“He took me knowing all, and we are quite happy; at least, I try to make -him happy, but I can never forget that first awful disappointment. It -rises like a specter at the very moment I think I have forgotten.” - - - - -TALE EIGHTEEN. - -ONE WOMAN’S WAY. - - “What men gain fairly—that they should possess, - And children may inherit idleness, - From him who earns it—this is understood; - Private injustice may be general good. - But he who gains by base and armed wrong, - Or guilty fraud, or base compliances, - May be despoiled even as a stolen dress - Is stript from a convicted thief and he - Left in the nakedness of infamy.” - - -“Yes, I think women have great control over some branches of politics, -or, at least, I will say that some women lend their influence in such a -way that political aspirants are masters of the situation at times.” - -The speaker was a woman too distinguished looking to be classed as an -ordinary person; tall, straight and dignified, the auburn hair looked -almost red, as the glints of sunshine rested on one massive coil, which -had been so neatly arranged high upon the well-shaped head, giving her a -queenly bearing. - -The forehead, a trifle low, added much to the determination of the rather -square-set jaws; the thin lips curved into a knowing smile, while the -hazel eyes shone with the unmistakable signs of wit and ingenuity. If she -appeared taller than the average woman it was partly due to the fact that -she had a way of looking at people with seeming downcast expression; the -effect of this look was produced by the erection of the woman’s head, -together with the long eyelashes, which appeared to creep from under the -heavy brows; if at first glance one should judge her to be from the ranks -of the common, a moment’s study of the face, ending in a glance at the -symmetrical figure, would emphatically impress one with the thought that -some unusual event had some time in her life mixed the surroundings so -thoroughly into her plastic nature that it caused some of the rougher -elements to crop out in spite of her complete control, and well planned -efforts of concealment. - -She had answered my question, so I took courage and asked her another. - -“Can you tell me of an instance wherein a woman has, by her own efforts, -been able to control the political situation?” - -“Yes.” - -She spoke almost snappishly, then in a softer tone she continued: - -“If you will excuse a personal allusion, I will give you a story.” - -“The more personal, the better it will be told,” I said with a nod. - -“Then,” she said, as she pointed to a chair with an inviting air, and -proceeded to deposit herself into a comfortable rocker, “I will tell you -one that is founded on facts.” - -“I, like all girls, was once in love.” - -“Once,” said I, as I looked around the room of the neatly furnished -cottage in which we sat, finally resting my eyes on the crayon portrait -of a man, whose face, though not handsome, denoted such honest industry -that it was easy for me to imagine that he would love the woman of his -choice devotedly, that unless she was a woman of barbarous mind she must -at least love him out of gratitude. - -“Yes, that is my husband; I can read your thoughts,” she said, with no -show of further attention to the interrupting gaze, “and thereby hangs a -tale.” - -“This is my home, and the price I paid for it should have been the means -of my presiding over a palace. I grew from the ranks of blithesome, -prattling childhood to the age of sixteen, on a farm; wild roses and -butterflies were my companions in the summer months, while the winter -days were spent in school. I was thrown much into the society of a young -man, who had come to our neighborhood as an applicant for the position -of school teacher; at the time of his introduction into the district my -father was a candidate for the office of township trustee; that worthy -official has a great deal to do with the selection of the pedagogues, and -it was well understood that if a teacher in search of a place find favor -in the eyes of the superior officers of the township, his success was -assured. - -“It had been the custom up to this time to employ lady teachers in the -rural districts, but when Roy Sunderman came on the field he came to -win. It was generally believed that my father would have little or no -opposition in his race for office, but when he was questioned on the -policy of changing from female to male teachers, he was so indiscreet as -to commit himself in favor of male instructors; this turned the tide -against him, and public sentiment threatened to defeat him. - -“It was nearing the time for election; no time was to be lost. One -evening a neighbor of ours called to take me for a drive and incidentally -to a lawn social, which was to be held a few miles from my father’s home. -After we had gotten fairly started, my escort, who was a well-to-do -farmer’s son, told me that some of the school and political directors had -met at his father’s house on the night previous, and had besieged his -father to make the race for trustee against my father, ‘But I hope he -won’t,’ said he. - -“‘Why,’ I asked. - -“‘Because I—I—don’t want our people to oppose each other in any manner,’ -said he. - -“I was a schoolgirl and cared very little for politics, and knew no -reason why Elmer Lane should be so deeply interested in the peace and -tranquillity which existed between our respective families. Still, I -wanted my father to win. I would have been a strange child if I had not -wanted such a result. - -“Suddenly a light dawned upon me; if the elder Lane could be kept out -of the race, or even defeated, my father would be the victor; then, for -the first time in my life, I began to formulate a scheme which would -upset the plans of the opposing side; I was not long in drawing out of -my companion the statement that he loved me; then I was able to see why -he was so keen to have the present standard of friendship maintained. -He begged me to say that I loved him. I put him off by saying that if I -did I would be afraid to confess it, for fear our families might become -antagonized in the coming political battle which was near at hand. - -“‘But,’ said he, ‘if that is any barrier, say that you love me and I will -compel my father to decline to run, or, better still, I will advise him -to accept the nomination; then, after it is too late to select another -candidate in his stead, withdraw, leaving the field clear for your -father.’ - -“I had confidence in Elmer’s ability, but did not bind myself by a -promise. I told him he must first show his ability to keep the track -clear. - -“We arrived at the lawn fete with our love affairs in embryo; all was -merry; country girls were there from miles around; white swiss and -flowered lawn dresses fluttered softly among the rose bushes and other -flower laden shrubbery; while the young men, with bronzed faces and a -distinct line of bleached skin around their necks, showing evidence of a -fresh haircut, sallied about behind gaily colored neckties and ever ready -grins of more or less magnitude, as the occasion demanded. All the games -so pleasing to the young folks were indulged in by the frivolous guests. - -“I had strayed away from the center of the group, which was indulging -in some pastime, because I did not have the interest of the evening at -heart. I had been told for the first time that I was loved, and while -that did not create any strange feeling in my bosom, I could not banish -from my mind the thought that the man who professed love to me had -endeavored to purchase mine. I was not posted in chivalry, but I did feel -as if I might have been more susceptible to his pleadings if he had -based his ideas altogether on the fact that he loved me without trying to -buy favor by the sacrifice of some other aspiration. - -“I was seated on a rough wooden bench near a tall stump around which was -twined a profusion of morning glories. I could see everything that was -going on around me, but was myself out of the direct ray of light which -the many Japanese lanterns shed through their variegated sides. I think I -must have started when I heard a voice say, ‘Is this Miss Dalby?’ - -“The voice was strange and so unlike the uncultured nasal tones which I -was accustomed to hear. - -“‘Y—e—s,’ I drawled, as I looked up into a mature face, ‘my name is -Dalby.’ - -“‘My name is Sunderman—Roy Sunderman,’ said the voice. ‘I have tried to -be introduced to you, Miss Dalby, but fate seems to have blocked my way.’ - -“‘I—I did not know you wanted to meet me,’ I stammered. - -“Roy Sunderman was a full grown man, and I was not long in becoming -interested in what he was saying. The time sped so rapidly that the crowd -was half gone before I thought of it being the hour for leaving. Then, -so wrapped was I in what Mr. Sunderman was saying, that my escort of the -evening called me twice before he attracted my attention to get me to -join him on the homeward trip. - -“I had not granted Mr. Sunderman’s request to be allowed to call, but -told him I would consider the matter and notify him if I concluded to -allow him to come. - -“Elmer Lane upbraided me so unmercifully on my way home for my conduct -of the evening that my mind was made up before I went to bed. I wrote -Mr. Sunderman a note asking him to call on the Sunday evening following. -Long before the summer sun had gone to rest on that Sunday evening, Elmer -called for his answer, saying that he had persuaded his father to decline -the honor of being a candidate. ‘And now,’ said he, ‘I want you to say -that you will love me.’ - -“‘But I don’t love you,’ said I. - -“‘No, I suppose that young snob from town has filled your head full of -poetry and such like.’ - -“‘I don’t know what you mean.’ - -“‘I mean that smarty that you sneaked off in the dark with, over at -Wilson’s party.’ - -“‘If you mean Mr. Sunderman, you are mistaken,’ said I. - -“‘Well, that’s who I mean, and I’ll tell you now that he’s the cause of -all the trouble about this trustee business, and what’s more, I’ll show -you mighty quick where he will end. I mean to have my dad run, and he’ll -beat your ‘old man’ all holler, so good-bye, Miss Dalby.’ - -“He left. When Mr. Sunderman came I was in tears; I was alone at home, -my parents having gone out for the day and remaining away late. I was -so hurt. I could now see that I had put myself in a bad plight. Mr. -Sunderman begged me till I told him all. His words of comfort were soft, -tender and reassuring, and by the time my parents came home, I concluded -to tell them the whole affair, and with kind and genial Mr. Sunderman’s -help, I did so. The following Tuesday the papers announced the name of -Thomas Lane as candidate for township trustee. - -“Never before was the local talent so pressed into service and the issue -was one of merit. Many of the people came out in open defiance of my -father; he was quoted and misquoted. Meanwhile Roy Sunderman was showing -his ability as a politician. He made speech after speech at the school -houses in the township; his diplomacy steered clear of the real issue, -as he knew that the odds were heavily against him; he not only saw that -the public was in favor of women teachers, but he realized that he stood -before the people an abject subject to the severest forms of criticism. -Still, this man of personal magnetism made many friends and fast friends -everywhere he went; his arguments were forceful and conclusive and at the -closing of each speech he made the announcement that on the day before -the election he would address the people en masse, and if every voter -would promise to come he would obligate himself to tell them something -startling, and that something would be proven to them, that they would -weigh the facts in their own active minds and be guided by their own -decisions; in other words, they would be given facts that would put them -on their honor as patrons of the public schools, as husbands of their -homes and as fathers of their children. Such orations had the desired -effect. It set everybody talking and the result was that when the day -arrived for the ‘firing of the gun,’ as many of the skeptical ones put -it, the entire populace was in the grove that had been chosen for the -occasion. I am sure no one knew what was coming. All of the school -directors were invited to seats on the rough platform by the speaker. His -speech was a marvel of philosophy, his language was one continuous flow -of correct and convincing utterances. The attention which was accorded -him was within itself a mark of the appreciation of his efforts. - -“Then he made the statement that on a certain night the school directors -had met in caucus at the home of one of the candidates (namely, Mr. -Lane), and solicited him to enter the race, and that he considered the -matter in a favorable manner, and that Mr. Lane’s son had gone to the -daughter of Mr. Dalby and made the proposition that in consideration of -her giving to him her love he would dissuade his father from entering -the race, and, pending the decision of the young woman, the Board of -Directors had received this letter: - -“‘Fellow Citizens,’ shouted the enthusiastic speaker, as he waved a sheet -of fool’s cap aloft, ‘declining to become a candidate, then within two -days after the young woman had decided that a man of the mercenary ideas -of Elmer Lane was unworthy the love of a true woman, the father of the -purchaser of love announces himself as a candidate, and young Mr. Lane -had menacingly declared that ‘Old Man Dalby would be beat all holler if -the young lady refused him.’” - -“‘Now, ladies and gentlemen, if you want a man in the position of honor -and responsibility, which it is in the power of this fair minded people -to tender a man, who is making the fight simply to gratify the revengeful -feelings which are harbored by a whimsical and love sick youth, it is -your duty to vote for Thomas Lane. If you want a man to represent you in -public affairs who is more loyal to the cause of education, and who has -the interest of your home at heart as well as his own, and a man who is -as far above the pusillanimous acts of coercion as the angels are above -Satan, then vote for Caspian Dalby.’” - -“Mr. Sunderman closed his remarks by challenging any one to refute -his statements. No one made answer to this remark and the truth won. -Of course there was a great deal of talk when my father insisted on -employing Mr. Sunderman. He was tendered the position of principal of the -academy in town, but he declined, saying that he preferred country life -and that all he could accept would be a school in the country. Then he -was intrusted with the school in the district in which we lived. - -“It was an easy thing for me to fall in love with him, and I am sure he -loved me. My father did not object to the match, he only insisted on our -waiting, but lovers cannot wait, so we went quietly away, got married and -wrote home for forgiveness. It came in time and we, instead of returning, -settled down in a small Wisconsin town, where Roy began the practice of -law. Sixteen months of happiness is well worth the price of sixteen years -of sadness. Our boy was about four months old when Roy came home one day -with a cloud on his face. I finally persuaded him to tell me what his -trouble was, and he took me in his arms and told me of another marriage -in which he was a principal. It occurred two years before he came to our -house. He had applied for a divorce and supposed himself free, but it -seemed a technical point had been overlooked and he was still legally -bound to the other woman. I am too mature now to explain to you how -my tender nerves were shocked. I asked him if he could not yet get a -divorce. He was afraid not, and besides he had a letter from his father -who was very wealthy stating that unless he came home and took care of -his wife he would be disinherited. - -“‘But what about me?’ I asked. - -“‘Oh dear,’ he said, ‘I don’t know; it nearly drives me mad. If I go I -will lose you and if I stay I will lose fortune and position, and will -eventually be torn from you.’” - -“I could see it all; he was right. It was arranged for me to live in -Chicago. He would support me and move his wife there so that he could see -me as often as possible. - -“‘Cold, isn’t it?’ said the woman, as her eyes glowed like coals of fire. - -“I would have died to make him happy, but it was not my lot to die. - -“He had lived here about one year, when his legal wife died in child -birth. I mourned with him, for she was a good angel. I went so far as -to have her baby girl brought to my cottage and cared for her as I did -my own child. He called often, and it was quite natural for me to now -look forward to taking the position which was rightfully mine. After six -months I ventured to mention it to him. He said: ‘Yes, dear, just as soon -as the proper time has elapsed, you know. I am in politics and I cannot -afford to cause comment such as a public man must suffer by the failure -to observe the proper respect.’” - -“Yes, I could see he was right. All of the bright future which remained -before him could be turned to inky darkness by just such a mistake as -this. He received an appointment at Washington, consequently was away -from me a great deal. Finally, on one of his trips home, he suggested the -idea of sending his girl baby to some of his people. - -“‘It is too much for you, dear,’ he said. - -“I had learned to love the little darling and I was lonesome when he took -her away. He never forgot to send the remittance for my support, and his -visits continued the same. - -“One day after he had been in Washington a year I met a lady from there. -In our general talk I mentioned that I knew a gentleman there. - -“‘Who?’ she asked. - -“‘Mr. Sunderman.’ - -“‘Oh, do you know him?’ she exclaimed, with a show of delight. - -“Pleased to know that I had met one of his friends, I felt the flood of -joy which shone out of my face as I said, ‘Yes, I have known him a long -time.’” - -“‘And do you know his wife?’ said my friend, as we started across the -street. - -“‘I met her once,’ I said, ‘just before she died.’ - -“‘Oh, I mean his present wife, formerly Miss Bringhurst.’ - -“‘Is he mar⸺’ - -“I heard the shout. I caught a glimpse of the horse’s hoofs as they pawed -the air near my head, but I was falling, and all I know was that I could -not stop. When I awoke I was in the hospital. - -“I was not so badly injured from the fall as was at first supposed, -although I received a bad scalp wound, which caused me to bleed so -profusely that I must have been a terrible sight. I quickly recovered -sufficiently to be taken to my home. I suffered days of untold agony. I -could not believe what I had heard; I was sure it must be false. Roy, my -Roy, was true to me; he was too true to our boy to do anything to make us -suffer. - -“Each day made my load heavier. Years were added to my age by the -terrible strain which was brought to bear on me. I viewed my position -from every standpoint and at last with a love greatly overshadowed with -fear and doubt, I took steps to ascertain what amount of truth there was -in the report. - -“It was true. He had been married three months, during which time he had -called on me twice, and it was now almost time for his regular visit. -I received a letter saying he would arrive in this city on the day -following. What was I to do? When I thought of openly accusing him of his -perfidy my heart sank within me. Oh, to think that he would be untrue -to me; to know that I was not loved. For to know that was to desire to -die, and why not? No sooner had the thought flashed into my mind than the -plan developed in all its maturity. But what would I do with the baby? I -loved him, and surely no one else would care for him since his father had -deserted him and I would be dead.” - -At this point my hostess paused, and walking across the room took from a -drawer a photograph of a youth in military costume. - -“This is my baby’s picture,” she said, with a tremor in her voice; then, -giving way to her feelings, she buried her face in her hands and sobbed. - -“And to think,” she said, “a fine boy like that with no one to call -father.” - -So calmly did this woman of nerve tell me of her intention that I became -engrossed with the idea and listened as though some one was presenting a -business proposition to me. - -“Then you changed your mind?” I said. - -“No, I tried to put my plans into execution. I put the baby to bed, -closed the room up tightly and turned on the three gas jets, took my all -in my arms and closed my eyes. - -“I have a distinct memory of the darkness, the shooting pains in my head -and the choking sensation which seemed to so nearly strangle me that I -had no ambition left with which to struggle for life; then I went to -sleep. - -“The next thing I knew the fresh air was blowing on my brow and I heard -some one calling my name. ‘O, Mary, Mary, speak to me. Wake up, dearest, -and say that you know and love me. It is Roy. Don’t you know me, precious -one?’ - -“Oh, how I longed to die while those words were being uttered; how I -prayed in my semi-conscious stupor that his kisses would assist in -smothering the breath which, in spite of my efforts, had begun to come -and go softly through my purple lips. His loving words were as the music -of angels, and my only wish was to be wafted away to the sweet sound of -his endearing tones. My dreaded fear was made complete when I awoke to a -full sense of realization. - -“I opened my eyes to find myself in Roy’s arms. I saw that tender look -of the strong man; I heard him say: ‘Darling, I love you.’ I felt myself -clasped to his breast and I was glad I lived. God seemed to have sent him -at the right time. I asked him how it came that he was there and he told -me that he was so anxious to see me that he left business and all and -came one day sooner. He had let himself into the house as usual and found -me in time to bring me back to life. The baby was not so badly affected -as I was, for the reason, I think, that he had cuddled close to me and -in so doing had gotten his face under the bed clothing, consequently the -fumes of gaseous poison had not penetrated his retreat. - -“Roy was so tender and good that I could not bring myself to the point -of asking him about his marriage. He asked me why I had undertaken the -rash act and I told him that I was lonesome for him. Things drifted on -for months, and he returned to this city to live. It was then that he -came to me and told me that he was married. He explained how he had -been compelled to have a certain sum of money in order to maintain his -influence in the political circle and that he had married a wealthy -woman. He insisted that I meet his wife, but I refused. I also refused -to accept any financial aid from him. If it had been his money I should -gladly have taken it, but I would not take a cent of the funds which had -been the means of buying my place at my husband’s side. I then answered -an advertisement for ‘housekeeper wanted’ and accepted a position with -a small family, which only lasted a few weeks, at which time I found -myself penniless. Next, I was a chambermaid in a hotel, but left because -I could not have my boy with me. Then kind heaven seemed to favor me, -for I secured a position as companion to an old lady. I remained there -seven years; my boy was allowed to live in the house with me, and went -to school as soon as he had reached the proper age. I saw Mr. Sunderman -occasionally. He was a well known attorney and a man of affairs. During -my stay at the home of the old lady I became very much attached to her, -and it was little wonder that when she passed into the peaceful slumber -of death that I was much moved. - -“Many relatives that I had neither seen nor heard of attended the -funeral. When the procession was forming to leave the house my attention -was attracted to a beautiful woman, who had a little girl with her. She -was an earnest mourner; it seemed almost impossible for her to give up -her dear aunt to the relentless hand of death. She moaned and sobbed -so pitifully as the casket was borne from the house that I thought to -lead her; she leaned heavily on my arm and we slowly followed the form -we loved so well and sadly watched the pall bearers as they placed -the black case in the sombre vehicle. Then the carriages, which were -silently waiting, began to draw up to the curbing as the huge burial -car moved away. One, two, three handsomely groomed teams stopped, until -the curtained doors of the carriages to which they were hitched closed -with a muffled sound, when they would slowly walk away as though they -understood they were to make room for the next. - -“The fourth carriage halted; the attentive assistant opened the door and -the lady I was supporting moved toward it, leading the little girl with -her. - -“‘Would you mind letting this lady ride with you?’ asked the undertaker, -with a bow. - -“For the first time she looked at me and seemed to recognize me as the -woman whom she had seen in charge of affairs in the house when she had -first arrived. - -“‘No,’ she said, with a toss of her head, ‘I don’t care to take any -servants in with me.’ - -“I watched the streets and boulevards for months before I again set eyes -on that turnout; when I did it was but a matter of inquiry to find out it -was the private equipage of Mrs. R. Sunderman. - -“I had reached the stage of desperation, where I was ready to do anything -but one thing, and that was to die. I wanted to live long enough to -impress upon her mind who I was. It was while in this frame of mind -that I met my husband. I had lost all respect for myself; I had reached -that stage of degradation which is worse than to resolve to take one’s -life. I had decided to sell my soul in order to have sufficient funds -to at some time humiliate this woman who had refused to carry me in her -carriage, which should have been mine. I went to a house of bad repute to -apply for admission; while talking to the proprietress a man came in. He -signified a desire to talk to me, and we left the place together. He was -only a poor man, but his soul contains some of the rarest qualities of -manliness that has ever been discovered in the human race. In ten days -we were married. I did not love him, but he offered me and my boy a home. -He asked no questions but, as he said, took it for granted that I was as -good as himself; I have never loved him with that pure, unselfish love -which is so essential to real happiness, but he has been good to me and I -have done my duty.” - -“But what about your first—er—Mr. Sunderman, I mean?” - -“Well, he followed his political ambitions, and his party has been -victorious in nearly all its efforts. Money has come to him without -apparent effort. - -“My husband finally purchased a grocery store in which he toiled -incessantly to provide for us. Such life grew monotonous. I was seeking -some way of relieving him, when one day I picked up a paper and saw great -headlines saying, ‘Sunderman Faction Wins.’ - -“‘The result of yesterday’s caucus plainly shows Hon. Roy Sunderman -master of the situation. His position and power unquestionably defined,’ -etc. - -“In reading the article I discovered that Sunderman had gained control -of the political situation. He did not seek any office, but rather chose -to be dictator, thereby holding the patronage of high officials in his -hand. I next ascertained that he would be appointed minister to some -foreign country to intercede in issues of great importance which at that -time held the public eye, as he saw fit. The newspaper account which -contained the latter statement went on to say that the great honor shown -Mr. Sunderman was only a fitting tribute in return for the effective -and valuable services which he had rendered the party, and that he was -given the choice of several different appointments, but preferred the one -named because it would afford him an opportunity to take his family on a -sojourn in Europe with him. - -“At last, I had not waited so long for nothing. This is an exact copy of -the letter I wrote him.” - -The letter was as forceful in expression as was the writer in her -deliberate narration. I will produce it word for word: - - “_Hon. Roy Sunderman._ - - “DEAR SIR: No doubt you have expected to hear from me ere - this; I have been waiting for the opportunity which your - popularity has just now afforded me. If the monotony of my - humdrum existence has taken me entirely out of your life, it - is only the more reason why your rise to prominence has been - more plain to me; I have no favors to ask, but a request to - make, hence this letter. I can see no happiness in having for - a husband a man who on the stroke of five in the morning rolls - out of his bed, hurries into his clothes and rushes away to his - stall, where he deals out potatoes and codfish to the dictation - of those to whom he must humbly bow in order to retain their - patronage; remaining away all day without his lunch and only - arriving home in the evening in time to eat dinner, which has - been spoiled by being kept warm, and then tired, cross and - peevish, he goes off to seek the rest from the day’s toil and - worry, only to rise and repeat the program as the days go by. - The man is all right, I have no fault to find with him, but his - ill health and the overwork have sapped his vitality until - ambition in him is a gone and forgotten element. You have power - and my husband is well qualified to fill some office, which - would be an honor to him and a glory to me. He is educated and - I want you to have him appointed to a position. I also want you - to arrange to have _our_ boy sent to school. - - “These things I _know_ you will take pleasure in doing, - believing as I do, that my wish is your pleasure. - - I remain, - - ⸺ nee Mary Dalby.” - -“He came to me upon receipt of the letter ready to advance me money, -anything, that he could do, but the appointment was out of the question. - -“‘No,’ I said, ‘it is not; I shall expect you to do as I say.’ - -“‘But, listen, Mary, the positions which I did control have all been -tendered to others since I accepted my appointment, and the only way I -could get any favors now would be to withdraw.” - -“‘All right, sir, withdraw,’ said I. - -“‘But now, dear, be reasonable. My family is all ready to sail.’ - -“‘Well, let them sail.’ - -“‘Yes, I—I know,’ he stammered. ‘But they can’t sail without me and I -can’t disappoint them now.’ - -“‘You can send them and join them later.’ - -“‘No, I cannot afford it.’ - -“‘Cannot afford it,’ I gasped. - -“‘No. You see, Mary, I have to spend so much keeping pace with the crowd, -that money is not at all plentiful with me.’ - -“‘And this appointment is the only means you have of going abroad?’ - -“‘Yes, Mary.’ - -“I looked at him, his eyes were filled with tears. My heart softened; -I saw the tender emotion as it lit up his face until a halo seemed to -surround his head. I knew that I loved him yet. I heard his trembling -voice, as he pleaded with me, I saw his soft, white hands as they reached -out to me in mute appeal; I think the tears which now half blinded me -must have had a softening effect on my callous nature. Then with a flash -I thought of a son without a father, I again went through years of toil, -and as if a panoramic view was being unrolled before me, I saw a house in -mourning, a hearse drawn by black horses, draped with great, black nets, -whose fringe hung almost to the ground. I saw a line of vehicles moving -slowly, a man opened the door, then I heard a voice say, ‘No, I do not -care to take any servants.’ Then with the pride wrought by the tingling -of the warm blood which coursed through my veins, I said, ‘Well, Mr. -Sunderman, I am sorry, but I must ask you and your family to forego this -one pleasure.’ - -“He did not mistake my sarcasm; he only asked me what would be the -consequences, if he refused. - -“‘If you are anxious to know,’ said I, ‘just refuse and wait twenty-four -hours.’ - -“Within two days the papers were full of Mr. Sunderman’s withdrawal on -account of a sudden breaking down of his health. He had many applicants -for his influence, but he did not tell anyone that he had given up the -only position over which he had any influence for reasons of his own. - -“In less than thirty days, a rural looking man called at my husband’s -place of business, and stated that he was looking for an opportunity to -buy a store something on the order of his; my husband priced the store, -and the man took it without a word; my husband is industrious and I had -a hard time keeping him in a contented frame of mind for thirty days -more, but I insisted so strongly on his taking a much needed rest, that -he was still idle when he was notified that he had been selected to fill -a position as a postoffice inspector. His instructions were for him to -proceed to headquarters at once to qualify. Our boy, Roy’s and mine, is -in a military school and I anticipate that he will be selected as a West -Point cadet, when he has made the proper advancement.” - -“And does your husband know?” - -“He knows nothing, except that five thousand a year is better than -running a shop.” - - - - -TALE NINETEEN. - -A STORY OF THE LEVEE. - - “Ah, yes, ’tis sweet still to remember, - Though ’twere less painful to forget; - For while my heart glows like an ember. - Mine eyes with sorrow’s drops are wet, - And oh, my heart is aching yet. - It is a law of mortal pain - That old wounds, long accounted well, - Beneath the memory’s potent spell, - Will wake to life and bleed again.” - - -In spite of police rules and the fact that there is a city ordinance -prohibiting the admission of women in saloons in Chicago, in spite of the -reported raids on dens in what has been known as the levee district for -years, the writer indulged in a little slumming last evening. - -One engaged in Dr. Parkhurst’s favorite pastime need go but a few blocks -from the Central Police Station to find sufficient fields of labor to -keep one busy for days. South State street appeared to be more attractive -to a man going out on such an expedition alone, for the section of the -street chosen for the work was nearly as black as Hades while strictly -speaking it was as light as day owing to the numerous arc lights which -served to light the inexperienced to these shining dens of vice. - -The thrum of the guitar and the twang of the banjo and pounding of the -piano served to entice me to enter a resort that is well known as the -rendezvous of as precious a lot of thieving “old Mols,” pickpockets and -grafters of all sorts as any city should care to boast. - -Upon my entrance my attention was attracted by the many signs of fresh -paint which was smeared over the faces of the denizens of gaudy attire -which in some cases could almost be described by saying they were -attired in a pair of red hose and a short bodice. In many instances the -flaring nostrils and flaming eyes were temporarily obscured by clouds of -cigarette smoke, only to be assisted in their display of dissipation by -a liberal supply of gold teeth, as the degraded creatures would eagerly -open their carmined lips to receive again the agent of insanity. - -I was greeted with all the endearing terms known to the human tongue, -from “Hello, sweetheart,” to “Honey, buy your baby a drink.” - -I saw everything from a friendly handshake to a hugging match behind an -artificial palm. Every inducement to a man of virile, animal instincts -was held out to the male visitors of this law abiding place, while the -revolting scenes of depraved humanity were made more distasteful to the -refined person on account of the pit of hellish wretchedness his fellow -men had fallen into. - -So much for a city which is regarded as being under the surveillance, of -proper authorities at all times. - -I sat down at a table alone. The three-man band struck up a waltz, the -notes arose and mingled with smoke, curses and a discordant humming which -came from the husky throats of a dozen or more wearers of bleached hair -and otherwise falsified females. - -As the music continued I glanced around the large room. The sight of -drunken men lolling over women whose only claim to life and conviviality -was supplied by the effect of the different intoxicants which these -daughters of misfortune had freely indulged in, was sufficiently -disgusting to cause me to desire to make my exit without further delay. - -I arose to go; just as I did so, I caught the eye of a creature whose -smile showed in itself just how much of an effort it cost for the woman -to present it. I lingered by the chair, and she approached me timidly. -Her action, combined with her appearance, served to mislead me. I mistook -her for a novice; on account of her seemingly natural shyness I looked -upon her as being wholly out of place. Her general appearance too was far -above the ordinary “she frequenters” of this place. - -She was young, well preserved, modestly dressed and talked with a -degree of sense and moral refinement unknown to the patrons of the -establishment. Notwithstanding the fact that circumstances were against -her, I believed her when she told me that she was not an habitue of this -particular resort. - -“But why are you here tonight?” I asked. - -“Oh, I have the blues, good and plenty,” she said, as she dropped into a -chair. - -“For why?” was my bantering query. - -It was then that I was treated to a square look into her face. She was -pretty to say the least. Her soft hazel eyes denoted everything but -viciousness; her full, round face carried the freshness of youth and she -made feeble attempts to smile pleasantly, at which time she showed a set -of white, firm, but very short teeth. She gazed at me for a full moment, -then with an air of wisdom she said: “I suppose you are fixing to make a -raid on all the ‘joints’?” - -“No, I am not,” was my honest reply, the meaning of which was so well -taken that this girl admitted that I was surely “off my beat.” - -“You do not look like a man who chose his society from the ranks of these -people,” said she, with a look around the room. - -“I should think you would know whether you had ever seen me around here -before,” said I. - -“Nothing strange in that, for this is the first time I was ever in this -place in my life.” - -By this time I had convinced her that I was not a “fly cop.” She had -caused me to believe that she, too, was telling the truth. I finally -invited her to have a drink. - -“No. At least not here; this is too tough for me,” she said as she arose. - -“But I want to talk to you.” - -“I am willing to talk, but not here and if you will meet me at the next -corner in the basement, I will talk as long as you like. It is better and -cleaner there,” she added. - -“Shall I go with you?” - -“No, I will go alone. You follow.” - -After she had gone out, I viewed myself in the dingy mirror. I wondered -if I really looked easy to that sly lady. I was not inclined to follow -her into any basement den and run the chance of her having told some of -the gang that I had insulted her, so they might have an excuse to beat me -into insensibility, rob me and throw me into the gutter, from whence I -would be gathered up by the kind hearted policeman and carted away to the -station more dead than alive and be called upon to answer to the charge -of drunk and disorderly conduct, the next day, and pay tribute to the -tune of a big fine, while my assailants were waiting for more “suckers.” - -Curiosity and stubbornness led me to follow at a safe distance and try if -possible to ascertain what sort of a place she entered. - -It was on a corner; a view of the marble steps and shining brass rails -denoted cleanliness. Bright lights diffused a warmth of welcome, while -strains of music floated from the farther recesses of the basement. An -expensive sign told me that the place was a “cafe.” “Ladies’ Entrance” -was the inimitable farce that adorned the wall directly over one pair -of steps leading downward, while numerous announcements over the other -stairway announced all that was to be found by a respectable man of -leisure. With a slight feeling of trepidation, I descended to the source -of hilarity; as I drew nearer the music I became braver. I sought a -table in a far off corner, and had not been there long when my new found -acquaintance approached me. - -“Now,” I said, “I want you to tell me all about yourself.” - -“And if I do will you advise me as to what course to pursue to right a -wrong?” - -“I will try. But first have a drink. You are all upset; take a little -liquor to steady your nerves.” - -The drinks being disposed of, she began. - -“Ah well, it is a short story. I came to Chicago during the World’s -Fair. I was a pretty child of seventeen. My parents were very wealthy. -My former home was Grand Rapids, Michigan, but I became so enamored with -the exciting life of this great city that I prevailed upon my parents to -allow me to remain here and enter a school of music. For four years I -advanced rapidly. Society’s doors were wide open to me everywhere. I was -in great demand at all social functions on account of my rich voice. I -made many friends and was loved and petted by all. I met a man, one who -also sang; our sympathetic natures readily embraced each other, our souls -were in harmony, we saw with the same eyes, heard with the same ears, and -lived by the agencies of the same heart beats. - -“Time flew as it only can for lovers. We became engaged. All looked like -one eternal, joyous day, but as time brings joy, so does it also bring -pain. My fiance held a position of trust and responsibility. He came to -me one day and said: ‘Jeanette, we must break our engagement,’ I thought -he was joking, but no such good fortune. He meant he was thousands of -dollars short in his accounts and wished to break off with me before it -became public, so that the disgrace would not rest so heavily on me. He -was noble for that, but I refused to release him, and wired my father, -who came. I told him all, and my Dad was a good Dad; he anticipated my -wish, and at once offered to make good all of Leslie’s shortage. It was -decided that the matter should be settled in that way. Just then a new -feature came to light. It developed that before I met Leslie he had been -badly smitten on his employer’s daughter, Emily Sutton. I had never seen -her; in fact, up to this time I did not know there was such a girl on -earth. Miss Sutton was conscious of Leslie’s financial trouble, and as -she had recently come into a large fortune in her own right, she, too, -offered aid to the man we both loved. She had heard of me and demanded -that I be jilted, and she become his wife. He refused, whereupon her -influence was brought to bear upon her father and to spite me, Leslie was -taken into custody. My father was true blue, and furnished the necessary -bond which gave Leslie his liberty. He disappeared, and the affair caused -an estrangement between my parents, which eventually drove my father to -suicide. My mother and I quarreled; she said such bitter things about the -loss my father had sustained by reason of his signing Leslie’s bond, that -I refused to accept a dollar of the balance of the estate. She eventually -married again and her second husband lost all my poor Dad had left. - -“I applied for a position as soloist at a number of the different -churches, and each time some promise was made, but in every instance I -afterward received a brief note, saying the committee had decided not -to employ me at present. I went so far as to offer my services gratis, -but the offer was gracefully rejected. I had been so deeply worried that -I had failed to notice the lack of attention and invitations from my -old circle of friends, which had gradually narrowed down to a handful, -compared to former days. Finally I thought as a last resort and an -excuse for remaining on earth, I would apply for a position on the stage. -I had no trouble in securing what I thought was a very good contract. I -made my debut at the Masonic Temple and had the newspapers let me alone, -all would have gone well, but it appeared to be their duty to take up my -thread of existence from childhood and around me they wove a romantic -story. They told how one man had so lost his head over me that he became -an embezzler; how the publicity had caused my father to fill a suicide’s -grave, and how I had been a social favorite until this trouble came, -etc. I suppose they meant it kindly, for the article closed by assuring -the public that my smiles were as winsome as ever and my voice as sweet, -and no doubt but that the Temple Garden would have the honor of having -more real society people in attendance during my engagement, than any -other place of amusement in the city. And they were there like curiosity -seekers at a funeral. When the hour came for my second appearance (the -matinee), every seat was taken and the “Standing Room Only” card had been -put up an hour before the curtain raised. My number came; I went onto -the stage and proceeded to disappoint my former friends by being seized -with stage fright, and instead of singing, I stood in dumb consternation. -Again and again the orchestra repeated the introduction; again and again -did the director give me my cue. I heard nothing. I could see in the -distance fans and handkerchiefs waving in the air. I saw a hundred pair -of hands extended, and brought quickly together, but heard no clapping -sound. I saw the many gorgeous flowers that were tossed upon the stage -in massive bouquets. I saw the footlights as they seemed to grow more -dazzling and then recede to a glimmering yellow flame, then I saw⸺. - -“When I revived the manager was furious. They said I had fainted. I guess -I did. I know a very strange feeling came over me. - -“Now I have recited my entire stage career to you. After this experience -my nerves seemed to fail me and I was unfit for anything. I had the -misfortune one day to meet one of my old friends, who happened to be in -the audience when I broke down. We had a long talk over our lunch which -lasted from two till five o’clock. He was so sorry for me, and said the -thing I needed was travel. I felt myself as if something was needed. -He proposed to assist me financially, and insisted on my going to Mt. -Clemmens to take a course of sulphur baths. I really felt that it would -benefit me, and hoped it would refit me for some sort of service by which -I might earn a living. I accepted the proffered aid and left Chicago to -seek health and strength. I spent seven weeks at the baths, and was so -much improved that I felt that life was again worth living. At the end -of that time my benefactor came to me. He told me two things and one was -that he had seen Leslie in Chicago; that since the forfeiture of his -bond he had decided to return here and had married his former employer’s -daughter, Emily. The other thing he told me was that he was just starting -for a year’s sojourn in Europe and wished me to join him. I did not know -what it meant, but he plainly told me that I would be expected to travel -as his wife. His request had a crushing effect on me. I could see why he -had entertained so much sympathy for me in my days of trouble. - -“I wanted to kill him. I asked him why he had not let me starve or die -from the effects of the malady from which I was suffering. He listened -quietly and then talked soothingly to me, until he convinced me that -in reality he was my only friend. I then became suspicious. I did not -believe he had seen Leslie, and I did not believe Leslie was married. I -still loved him with the devotion that had eaten into my childish heart. -I made my tormentor this proposition: That I would return to Chicago -and see Leslie. If he really was married and could not marry me, I -would return to him and accompany him to Europe. I had two reasons for -making this request. First, I really wished to see Leslie, and second, -I considered it a good plan to get away from the man who had befriended -me, and to whom I found it quite a task to say no after all his kindness. -He consented to the return to Chicago, and suggested that if I wished to -go with him that I meet him in New York in two weeks. He filled my purse -and I came here. I easily found Leslie. I told him I still loved him and -begged him to marry me or kill me and end my suffering. He denounced me -bitterly, accusing me of every sin a mortal can commit, and wound up by -telling me he was married and showed me a picture of his wife. Here, this -is the very picture,” said the girl as she drew a photograph from the -envelope. - -“And you, of course, snatched it out of his hand.” - -“No, I will tell you how I got it when I get to that part.” - -“I left him, my heart heavy within me. Again I sought employment in this -city; for days I almost ran from one building to another in answer to -some advertisement, only to find that I was too late, or in order to -obtain this position I must submit to such proposals as I could not bear. -Two weeks’ continuous trying and almost begging will tire the bravest. I -found nothing that I could accept. My money was going fast; as I counted -over my little store of currency my mind returned to him who gave it to -me. Should I go and meet him? No! Die first, was my resolve. Then the -thought came to me that possibly I could do better in New York, so after -satisfying myself that he would have sailed before I could reach there, I -left. I spent nearly all the money I had left for passage to New York. I -felt that I never wanted to hear the name Chicago again, and as the train -pulled out, I closed my eyes lest I should see something that would add -more to my misery. - -“I arrived at the Eastern metropolis without accident. I went straightway -to a music hall and sought an engagement. I was accepted and was to -appear in “The Spider and the Fly” Co. and told to report for rehearsal -the next morning at ten. I went and lo! another calamity. The manager -produced a picture of me, one which had been taken to decorate the -billboards at the time of my debut here. He also informed me that I was -on the black list for feigning illness at that time that I might be -relieved from my contract. - -“I needed a friend then to show that I was entitled to better treatment. -The manager suggested that I change my name and get some one to vouch -for me and then apply to some other manager. - -“I thanked him for the advice and started out to find some one, but whom -could I find? The only person I knew in New York had undoubtedly left -there, and if he had not I would not dare go to him. But I did dare -anyway. I knew not what else to do. I made inquiry at his hotel, and -found to my half hearted delight that he had not yet sailed, but would -leave that night. ‘Good!’ I thought, ‘I will detain him but a short time; -he will help me to a position and it will not interfere with his trip.’ - -“I waited for his coming. He greeted me effusively, and told me he had -waited and knew I would come. - -“I explained all to him and asked him to help me that I might secure a -position and be able to repay him all he had expended in my behalf. He -laughed at me and said: ‘Yes, of course, but let’s talk it over.’ - -“It was dinner time and he suggested that as he had lunched early and I -looked tired and hungry, that we go to dinner. - -“We had dinner at Delmonico’s, and breakfast on board an ocean liner -bound for Liverpool. People can say all they please about not knowing -what they do while under the influence of intoxicants, but I know that -as a rule they are conscious of every act, but simply do not care. At -the dinner I have just told you of, we had wine. I rather enjoyed the -sensation it produced, it made me forgetful of all my troubles, and -appreciative of all my friend had done, so that when he proposed that we -sail and not try for the stage again, I was a willing participant in the -carriage ride that took us to the docks. How I got on board the ship -I do not know. What happened during the night I cannot remember, for -slumber relieved me of all the horror attending the desecration of my -virginity. I simply know that during our trip I was Mrs. H. Bartel. - -“We traveled for a year and then he brought me back to Chicago. He -furnished a house, put $1,000 in the bank to my credit, and bade me -good-by. - -“He went out of my life as quickly as I seemed to have lost cast in -his. I began by keeping roomers; that did not pay. Then some of the -fashionable men whom I had known in my palmy days approached me with a -request that I allow them to hold clandestine meetings with women at my -home. They paid well for the liberty. - -“From that I went one step further, and became the landlady of a house of -bad repute, entering the field openly and above board. - -“Three months ago a woman applied to my house for admission. She looked -fairly good and I took her in. I paid little attention to her, and such -affairs were so common that I did not attempt to wring from her any -ancient history. Her face had a familiar look, that at times puzzled me, -but I did not give her much thought. One day I found a picture on her -dresser. It was a picture of Leslie. I flew into a rage and questioned -her closely. She told me she was his wife, made so by circumstances not -conducive to happiness. I concealed my surprise. I knew then where I had -seen her face. I managed to keep the truth from her and in a day or two -found an excuse to expel her from my house. The last I heard of her she -had become a frequenter of these places along the street here. Today -I received this letter and picture from Leslie, and my business here -tonight is to comply with his request if possible. Here is the letter, I -will read it: - -“‘Dear Jeanette: I have just learned what you are engaged in, also that -my wife is an inmate of your establishment. May God grant that you are -not aware of the fact, for although I have mistreated you shamefully, I -will not believe that you have hunted her up and taken this method of -revenge on me. Enclosed find her picture, the one I showed you before. -For Heaven’s sake, send her to me and my baby. - -“‘Kill me or torture me personally in any way you desire, but I beg of -you do not be a party to the visitation of disgrace on my child. Yours, - - “‘LESLIE.’ - -“And I am hunting Emily Sutton Marsh with a view to returning her to the -place where she belongs.” - - - - -TALE TWENTY. - -A SCIENTIFIC PHENOMENON. - - “When I remember something which I had, - But which is gone, and I must do without, - I sometimes wonder how I can be glad, - Even in cowslip time, when hedges sprout; - It makes me sigh to think on it,—but yet - My days will not be better days, should I forget.” - - -“Yes, art brought me to this.” - -The speaker was a tall, thin, young woman of a nervous temperament. The -storm of dark hair was pushed back in hurried confusion; the heavy brows -and long lashes which protected the dark blue eyes seemed a fitting -division between the high cheek bones and the bloodless forehead; her -nose, so straight and thin that it corresponded with the lines or -wrinkles which extended upward at either end of the mouth, and seemed -to cut short the smile which otherwise might have been as merry as the -dimple in her little chin would indicate. - -Nature had left the stamp of refinement on her face, perhaps for no -other purpose than to show the world that Celeste Moss had not always -had a bent back and pricked fingers—the effect of shop duties. Her home -was in two rooms, which, in spite of the lack of elegant furniture and -rare bric-a-brac, showed signs of culture, if in no other way than the -tidiness of the floors, which were without carpets or rugs. - -The only new article in the room which was visible was a pair of -trousers, and they were just being wrapped into a neat bundle by the deft -and willing hands of this industrious woman, as she opened the interview -with the first remark of this story. - -“Art seems to have launched your ship of destiny into strange channels,” -I ventured in way of reply. - -“Yes, and I have been called upon to face many breakers and tide the -waves of furious storms in the best way I could.” - -“I am sure your career has been an interesting one.” - -“Not so interesting as unpleasant,” she said, “and if you will excuse me -for a moment, I will tell you all.” - -That moment she consumed by carefully dusting and closing the machine -with the same tenderness and precision with which some musician might put -away his beloved instrument. - -“You take good care of your machine.” - -“Yes, that is all there is between me and the street; I must take good -care of that.” - -“I believe you said art transposed you from some other sphere in life to -your present position,” said I, anxious to draw her back to her subject. - -“Yes, I was born into a rich home, wherein the merry jingle of dollars -was of less consequence to the different members of my family, than the -rattle of pennies is to me now. I received all the finishing touches of -education, then as my indulgent father said—”just for pastime“—I took -up drawing and painting. My heart, brain and fingers seemed tuned with -one accord, so that taking the brush and palette in my hand was only -striking the chords of my artistic nature, and the harmony which was -thereby inspired spread itself in delicate tints and shades, producing -pictures which were as natural as those of the old masters were. So much -attention was paid to my amateurish productions that I soon found myself -famous. Then I fell in love; art and love should have been brother and -sister, born of the same woman and nurtured on the same sweet food. To -love a man was to love to draw beautiful pictures as nearly perfect as -my accomplishment would allow, then no matter what the canvas portrayed -after it had received my finishing touches, I took great pleasure in -likening the work to that of my idol, and always found my production -wanting. Long days I spent in my studio, striving to make a picture of -something which would show as much excellence as a work of art as my -lover showed as a man; each time I tried I improved, but before I had -reached that stage of supremacy as an artist, I had so lost my head along -with my heart that it was a hopeless task; there was nothing so true, so -sweet, so perfect as my Reginald.” - -“We were married. The conditions and circumstances under which we met -at the altar were favorable in the extreme. My husband was a musician -of note; in fact, he knew nothing but music and love; certainly nothing -was more natural than the blending of our souls in love, inspired by -ambition; then to add joy to the happy situation my husband’s best and -dearest friend, Jean Vincent (whom he had long since given up as dead), -returned to our home town two days before the nuptials. Wealth was a -thing easy of access to us, as both our families were independently rich. -I was an only child and it was a common expression of my father’s that -as I was so careless in regard to my sex, it would be my duty to the -family to produce a son. We were very happy, my husband, Mr. Vincent and -I, for Reginald insisted on his taking up his residence with us during -his stay; he, too, was an artist of no mean ability, and as Reggie said, -we could share the same studio and perhaps be of assistance to each -other, and besides my husband was teaching a great deal now, and it would -be so nice to have Jean in the house for company.” - -“We spent many happy days; I could sit for hours and listen to those two -“chums” discuss their travels, one in quest of musical education, the -other chasing art in its various forms and a part of the time the two -royal rovers spent their time in quest of pleasure; but Reginald had -tired sooner than his friend, and the date of his homecoming had been the -beginning of the love match which had culminated so happily. Mr. Vincent -had remained in Italy for a time, then visited the Sahara desert, climbed -the pyramids of Egypt and scaled the dangerous peaks of the Alps; he had -hunted in the jungles of Africa, and probed mother earth for gold in far -off Australia; in fact, he had been everywhere, from the scenes of direst -poverty to the grandeur of royal palaces. It was not strange, therefore, -that this swarthy man of Oriental customs could entertain, instruct and -make friends at one and the same time. - -“There was such a striking contrast between him and Reginald that many -spoke of it. Reginald was one of those dear little, short, fat men, who -seemed to beam with good nature; his round face was pink and white, while -his clear blue eyes shown with that merry twinkle of tenderness so -characteristic of the German type, while Mr. Vincent was tall and broad -shouldered, with a face which was a study of stern determination. The -years of hardship were not without effect, neither did his dark skin, -black curly hair and luminous eyes of ebony have a tendency to soften -the expression which the ravages of time had stamped upon his face. So -much did these men enjoy the companionship of one another that they -were always together when it was possible and it was only natural that -I should join in all their conversation. You may imagine my joy when -Reginald came to me and said: - -“‘Celeste, I want you to make a portrait of Jean, and, dear, make it your -masterpiece.’ - -“Then came long days of close association; we were closeted for hours in -the studio; we talked art; we exchanged views; Jean sat for me and then -I persuaded him to reciprocate. I told him that as he was sitting for a -picture of himself for my husband that it would be a grand opportunity -for him to put my face on canvas, and after the deliberate conclusion -that we would surprise Reggie, we decided to present him with my likeness -at the same time Jean’s was finished. - -“We worked with a will; when Reginald was away from home we often went to -the church or the theatre or took a drive together. I know some people -indulged in a little of that putrid gossip, which is sure to follow the -act of any gallant man. We did nothing that could in any way be construed -as disloyal to my husband; he knew our every move and sanctioned it all. -It was during this period of sitting and painting that I made a happy -discovery, and when I told Reginald he was so delighted that he lost no -time in conveying the glad tidings to my parents; the prospects of an -heir caused joy in their hearts. Finally the pictures were completed, and -with them Mr. Vincent’s visit, for, as he put, he had stayed long enough -in one place and would move on. - -“Reginald used to stand and look at his picture at times after he had -gone, as though he were looking on the face of a dead brother. The manly -love and devotion which existed between Reggie and Mr. Vincent was very -touching. - -“In due time my child was born—and blessed be the star which controls -such events—it was a boy. Reginald came to me while the nurse was -dressing the babe, and taking me tenderly in his arms uttered words of -praise in my ears, and showed me that devotion which is so reassuring and -precious to the heart of a young mother. O, how grand I felt when I heard -him say: - -“‘God bless you, darling! You are the dearest, truest treasure on earth.’ - -“I felt that I could have died for him then and there, and I have wished -many times since that I had. His dear head was nestled close beside mine -on the pillow when the nurse brought the child in; then he arose, and -taking the wee bit of humanity in his arms, turned towards me as if to -place it where it belonged; as he peered through the lace to get a view -of its features, I saw his face take on the pallor of death. My blood -felt like ice, as I tried to raise myself, at the same time crying out: - -“‘What is it, Reggie?’ - -“Then with a groan he fell across the bed unconscious; my only thought -was that our baby had been injured in some way and suddenly expired, and -with the picture of a little white casket, covered with lilies, before my -eyes, I fainted; I revived, only to succumb to an attack of brain fever. -When I recovered they told me that Reginald had gone. - -“‘Gone? Gone where?’ I cried in amazement. - -“For an answer they brought me this letter: - - “‘Dear Celeste: I will call you dear this time, for it is - the last. I do not blame you so much for what has happened; - I should not have trusted even the best friend on earth with - you and your charms. I can easily account for all. You longed - for the companionship which my profession robbed you of, but - you should have prepared me for this blow. I go now to find - your traducer, and if he refuses to take you and live with - you honorably, his body will meet the same fate his picture - has just met. Would to God I had died before I knew of your - infidelity. Good-by forever, - - REGINALD.’ - -“What on earth did it all mean? I went to the library, and there found -Mr. Vincent’s likeness simply cut and slashed into ribbons. Reginald -had left orders not to remove it; as I gazed on the ruined portrait -and thought of the part of my husband’s letter wherein a like fate was -promised Jean, I realized how utterly impossible it would be to consent -to Reginald’s demands, for to do so would be an open confession of -wrong, with a defined effort to right it, and so help me, God, we were -as innocent as the now fatherless babe, and I knew Jean Vincent to be a -man of principle; then I thought of Reginald’s obdurate nature, and—Oh, -horrors! he would be a murderer. - -“With the thought of blood running from gaping wounds, I swooned away. -When I opened my eyes again the doctor was standing over me; I asked for -my baby; the nurse brought it, and I was so mystified that I shrieked -in my despair; the poor little black thing, black eyes, ringlets of jet -black hair and skin as swarthy as the cuticle of an Italian. A long -talk with the physician shed light on the subject. He explained how the -constant association with some dark person at such a time as that in -which I happened to be with Mr. Vincent would bring about just such a -result. - -“The scandal killed my mother; my father was just as unreasonable as my -husband and refused to advise or assist me, even denying me the privilege -of seeing him. After two years he died cursing me, but not before he had -willed all of his fortune to a distant relative, leaving me penniless. - -“On the advice of neighbors, who were sufficiently interested in me to -at least want me to leave the community, I put my baby boy in a home for -waifs; then selling such articles of personal property as I possessed, I -started on a journey which will only end in death. - -“I came direct to Chicago, thinking to hide myself in the whirl of a busy -city, but soon the little store of wealth which I had realized from the -sale of my belongings had melted down until there was only a thin wall -of finance between me and starvation. I sought a position and in each -attempt was defeated on account of not having a business education; I was -not even fitted to do housework; it was then I realized how painfully -helpless a girl is in a strange land with no means, who has been born -and reared in luxury without even a smattering of domesticity in her -character.” - -“Why did you not try your hand at painting?” - -“I did try, but no use; when I took up a brush and palette my hand was -seized with palsy when I touched the brush to the canvas, I fancied I -could hear the sounds of ripping, tearing cloth, and to save my life the -best I could do was to make zig-zag lines; all of the love for art, all -of the ambition had vanished. - -“Finally I secured a position as governess, and had it not been for -the ideas of liberality which the man of the house in whose home I was -employed entertained, I might have regained some of my loss; at any rate, -he seemed to conceive the idea that my life was an aimless existence and -that I was only waiting to be won with endearing words of love. - -“The days of trouble were not conducive to strengthening my character and -my tempter was a man of wiles and charms, so much so that his constant -observation disclosed my different moods to his discernible mind. His -plans were carried out with that accuracy and precision so characteristic -of a man of the world. - -“That was the first step down the incline of rectitude; other men sought -me and so surely did I descend into the valley of shame that it was an -easy matter for me to consent to live with men in open defiance of the -law. - -“During my career I met a gentleman who was more interested in me than -any one I had ever met; he lived in a small town in the west; he was a -man of great tenderness and we in time grew fond of each other. Much of -our time was consumed in talking of schools, books, music and travel. I -knew little of him and he nothing of me, any more than he had met me one -day as I was buying tickets for a matinee; the line at the window doubled -back around the entrance of the theatre. As the crowd crawled slowly -along I found myself standing beside him; he addressed me, whereupon -a conversation sprung up and he kindly offered to buy my tickets for -me when he reached the window, which would save me a delay of several -moments. As he handed me the tickets he apologized for his intrusion; I -thanked him for his kindness and was not at all surprised when I found -him in the seat next to mine. Our friendship grew and finally ripened -into such mutual admiration that I frequently found myself counting -the days that I must wait for his coming. Finally his visits grew less -frequent; I did not ask him why he came so seldom, for I considered it -none of my business; one of the waits proved longer than any before. He -did not come for a year, but when he came he found me in my old haunt. -This time he explained why his visits had been so far apart; his wife had -been ill and he had lost her six months before; they had a child, a boy -by adoption, and he could not well leave the little fellow. I insisted on -his bringing his boy along next time. - -“I had become so attached to this man of genial nature that I was quick -to become interested in anything which was of importance to him. He came -again in two weeks, and with him came the boy. I met them in the parlor -of a hotel, and oh, how my heart fluttered as I saw the youngster; all -the love, pity and compassion of my happier days rushed back into the -places of my nature, which had been devoid of anything sweet for the -last six years. The boy was standing with his back to me talking to his -father. As I approached with outstretched hand to welcome my friend, -who stood with his back to the mirror, he reached out to clasp mine and -stepped slightly to one side, revealing the complete image of the child -in the mirror. - -“God only knows what I suffered in that one brief second. The picture -I saw there in the frame of the mirror was more vivid than any work of -art ever produced. My own child stood beside me. The hardening process -of years did much to assist me in my self-control. We went to dinner; my -friend was aware of my unhappy state of mind and questioned me closely. -I could not tell him the whole truth; I simply told him that I had been -married and that I had had a boy so much like this adopted son that the -sight of his boy had refreshed my memory, had recalled the sad hour of -parting with him when I had to give him up.” - -“‘And his father—is he dead, too?’ he asked, as he gently put his arm -around me. - -“‘Yes,’ I sobbed, ‘dead, everything is dead to me.’ - -“My sufferings must have touched the strings of his harp of love and -caused a melody to re-echo from his soul. - -“‘Come, and be a mother to my little chap,’ said he. - -“‘Oh, please don’t! I beg of you not to punish me by such jests.’ - -“‘But I mean it.’ - -“I hope that God in his goodness will never allow any poor woman to -suffer as I did. I would have gladly gone, but no, I could not marry one -man when I was the legal wife of another. Oh, I wanted to go so much, but -I could not. I loved my child too purely to go and be a mother to him, -while I was mistress to the one whom he was to know as a father. - -“That night ended my downward flight; I felt in my own mind that I had -reached the bottomless pit of degradation, so low, so impure, so tainted -with vice, that I dared not take my own child in my arms and lavish that -love on him which was now consuming me, for fear that the taste of bliss -would plunge me into a sea of desperation and cause me to commit myself -in some way that would contaminate his sweet, young life. - -“I had saved some money, enough to live on while I served an -apprenticeship in a sewing shop. I have taught myself the lessons of -economy and domesticity so necessary to one who intends to follow the -life of humble purity.” - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWENTY TALES BY TWENTY -WOMEN *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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