The hindered hand

CHAPTER VIII.
A Messenger That Hesitates.

The city was using small stones as a sort of pavement for the streets, and aged Negro men were given the work of breaking rocks into fragments to be used in that way. The occupation was not an ideal one, as employment was of a fluctuating character, and the sitting on the ground, often damp, was not conducive to health. The amount earned in proportion to the labor performed was very small. But aged men unable to move about very much found this to be about all that they could do. So, the rock pile grew to be the accepted goal of all the Negro men who wore themselves out in other service without laying aside a competence or establishing themselves permanently in the good graces of their employees.

There were many who did thus establish themselves, and Ford Crump would have been such a one but for the following chain of circumstances, to which account you may give heed while waiting on Foresta to feel self-possessed enough to approach her father.

Soon after the Civil War Mr. Arthur Daleman came to Almaville and entered business. Ford Crump, Foresta's father, then a young man, was his first Negro employee. The business grew until Mr. Daleman was rightly classed as a very rich man.

For several years after Mr. Arthur Daleman's marriage, no children had come to bless their home. Early one morning, as Mr. Daleman was crossing the bridge, he saw a young white girl acting rather suspiciously, peering up and down the bridge. Drawing near, he found that she had an infant wrapped in a bundle. Fully believing that it was the intention of the girl to drown the babe, he asked that she give him the child. This the young woman very gladly did. As the child grew, Mrs. Daleman's heart warmed to it and after several years of anxious thought and observation of the child the couple decided to adopt it as their son. Within a year after this was done a beautiful little girl, whom they called Alene, was born to them.

When Mr. Daleman grew wealthy, he decided to travel through the North and induce capital to invest in the South. He felt that the commercial tie between the sections would be of the greatest possible value and it was said of him that he brought more outside capital into the South than any other one man. He turned his business over to his adopted son, Arthur Daleman, Jr.

Arthur Daleman, Jr., did not like Negroes, and though Ford Crump had been with the business from its infancy, his presence was not desired by the new manager. When Ford Crump got so that he was not as active as was desired, he was summarily dismissed and his place given to a young white man. Arthur Daleman, Sr., whose interests were now immense, never came near the store, and, as a consequence, did not know the fate that had overtaken his faithful employee.

Ford Crump did not appeal to Mr. Daleman, Sr., in the matter, partly through pride and partly because he could not bear the irritating tone of the younger Daleman, which was in such striking contrast to the kindly manner of the elder Daleman. He had saved his earnings and bought a little home, and he was now willing to take his chances in the world even at his advanced age. It was thus that he found his way to the rock pile.

We now return to our messenger. Foresta sees that she is not going to be able to appear before her father free from signs of sorrow, and she decides on another course. Picking up a stone she rubbed it violently on the back of her hand, tearing the skin and causing blood to flow. She now hurried to the spot where her father sat, and said,

"Papa, mama wants you!"

The tone of Foresta's voice caused her father to look up quickly and anxiously.

"What are you crying about, my dear?" asked Mr. Crump.

Foresta made no reply, but held out her hand so that her father could see it.

"Poor thing; how did you hurt it?" he asked.

"Don't think about that. Mama wants you. Come on!" said Foresta, averting her face.

The father and daughter trudged along home, the father trying to say comforting things to Foresta and she weeping the more bitterly the while. At length it occurred to Mr. Crump that Foresta was more deeply touched than would have been the case if her trouble had been merely that of a bruised hand. Stopping, he said,

"Say, now, Foresta, is your mama hurt?"

"O no, papa! Mama is not hurt. Come on!"

"Is Henry——"

Foresta perceived the coming question, and ran to avoid it. They were now near home. Foresta rushed in and threw her arms around her mother. Hearing her father's footsteps, she ran into the kitchen, leaving her mother to break the news.

"Ford, we haven't any little Henry now!" said Mrs. Crump in sad, soothing tones.

Ford Crump whirled away from his wife and walked rapidly out of the room through the kitchen into the back yard. Little Henry's chief task was attending to the chickens, and Mr. Crump stood at the fence running across the yard to form an enclosure for the fowl.

"Chicks, your best friend is gone," said he.

"My head! my head!" he cried.

Foresta and her mother heard his cry and reached him just in time to break the force of the fall, but not in time to prevent his answering the final summons.

CHAPTER IX.
A Plotter Is He.

This intimation did not worry Mrs. Crump, for she knew Arthur Daleman, Sr., to be the soul of honor and knew that he would do what was right, title or no title. But her personal confidence in Mr. Daleman could not be converted into cash, and she had to look elsewhere for money.

There infested Almaville scores of loan companies that charged exorbitant rates of interest and had their contracts so arranged that a failure to pay put them in possession of the household goods of the party in debt. It was also held to be a criminal offense punishable by a term in the penitentiary for a person to borrow money from more than one company on the same items of furniture.

Little Henry had always asserted that he was going to be a merchant when he became a man, and made it a custom to pick up and preserve such business cards as were thrown into his yard. From his pile of cards stacked in a corner Mrs. Crump learned the location of these loan companies and decided to resort to them for the money needed. Getting a small sum from each, she had borrowed from fifteen companies when she at last got the amount demanded by the undertaker.

Arthur Daleman, Jr., was not making money as fast as he desired in the business turned over to him by his father, so he had resorted to the loan business. Knowing that people would often borrow from more than one loan company in spite of the regulations forbidding it, and reasoning that such borrowers would be even more sure than others to pay, because of fear of the penitentiary, he had ten loan companies of his own operating in different buildings under various names.

It happened that on the evening that Foresta and her mother made the rounds borrowing money, he was on an inspecting tour of his loan companies. Mrs. Crump borrowed money from five of Arthur Daleman's companies without, of course, knowing it. Arthur Daleman, Jr., himself was present in two places when she was borrowing the money. On each of these occasions he had taken more than a passing interest in Foresta. Her beauty was by no means diminished by the mourning attire, and Arthur Daleman, Jr., found himself admiring her, notwithstanding his hatred of her race. When the papers were signed in the second loan transaction which he witnessed, he said to himself with a feeling of satisfaction: "My way is tolerably clear."

With the money procured from the various loan companies little Henry and his father were given what the people called a nice burial. Within a week after the interment Arthur Daleman, Jr., made his appearance at Mrs. Crump's home. Foresta was at school when he called, and when she reached home she found her mother standing, facing him, with an angry and excited look in her eyes. Foresta read in her mother's countenance that she was angry and that the advantage in whatever matter it was, was not altogether on her side.

"What is it, mama?" asked Foresta.

"This man wants you to hire out in his family after you graduate."

Foresta looked at the man in surprise. The thought of going into the service of the whites was utterly foreign to her ambition.

"You may take your choice," said Arthur Daleman, Jr., sure of his ground.

"What choice?" asked Foresta, alarmed by the man's tone of assurance.

"It is this way. Negro servants are not up to what they used to be. They are getting squeamish, and you have to be so careful how you speak to them or they will leave you. We are kept always on the lookout for a servant girl."

"What on earth have I to do with that?" asked Foresta, her eyes widening with astonishment.

"This much—I am going to have a measure of stability in my family service somehow. Your mother here is in a tight box. All I have to do is to speak the word and to the penitentiary she goes!" said Daleman.

Foresta grew weak, her lips slightly parted and she backed to the wall for support.

Arthur Daleman, Jr., continued: "Borrowing money from loan companies takes the form of a sale, as you can see by reading any of the contracts. Now you can't sell a thing to two different people at the same time. The law does not allow such. It is a penitentiary offense. See?"

Foresta rushed to her mother and threw her arms about her and sobbed bitterly.

Mrs. Crump said, "I'll go to the pen. Come after me when you get ready! but Fores' shall never work for you."

"Take your choice," said Arthur Daleman, Jr., and walked from the room.

Foresta tore herself from her mother's arms and rushed out of the room after him. "Mister! Wait!" she called. "Don't do anything to mama. I'll come and do the work faithfully," said Foresta trying to smile.

"All right," said Daleman, smiling, "Be a good girl and you won't have a better friend than I am," said he, in a significant tone, trying to awaken Foresta to the real situation.

If she understood it her impassive countenance did not reveal the fact.

The world at large has heard that the problem of the South is the protection of the white woman. There is another woman in the South.

CHAPTER X.
Arabelle Seabright.

Mrs. Arabelle Seabright in her room in the Domain Hotel was now awaiting the arrival of a newspaper reporter, the next victim to be bent to her will. It had been on her programme to have her daughter Eunice and her husband present during a part of the interview with the reporter, but as they were not entering enthusiastically into her plans she was rather glad that they had declined to be present.

It was not long before a Mr. Gilman, reporter for the "Daily Columbian," was ushered into Mrs. Seabright's room.

"Let us understand each other at the outset, if possible," said Mrs. Seabright, with a smile, directing a kindly gaze in the direction of the young man. Mr. Gilman bowed deferentially, but said nothing.

"I am ambitious." said Mrs. Seabright.

"Ambitious people are the ones that carry the world forward," ventured the young man modestly.

"I have an unbounded ambition,—an ambition to live in history as long as a record of human affairs is kept. Oh! I hate death!" said Mrs. Seabright with a shudder, stamping a foot upon the floor for emphasis. "I have money with which to further my ambitions. I am aware of the traditions of your paper, the 'Columbian.' I shall not ask you to violate them. But if you will put your heart in your labor and be an incessant worker in my interest, your ambitions will be gratified. A fair exchange is no robbery. You put me on the way to attain my ends and I shall do the like for you. Is it a bargain?"

"Whatever I may be able to do consistently, I shall certainly do, and shall be duly appreciative of whatever may result in my favor in consequence of work worthily done," said the young man with so much fervor that Mrs. Seabright knew that she was well fortified in that direction.

Bit by bit the Almaville public was educated as to the Seabrights. They were descendants of sires that took a prominent part in the affairs of the Colonies during and succeeding the period of the American Revolution. Mr. Seabright inherited a large fortune which a keen business sense had enabled him to increase very materially. He had now moved to Almaville to found one of the largest furniture manufacturing establishments in the country. He was so absorbed in business pursuits that he did not relish social affairs much, but his charming wife was such a dispenser of hospitality that she made up for his deficiency.

Eunice, reputed to be the sole heir to the Seabright millions, was a girl of great beauty, highly accomplished, and the center of attraction of any group of which she formed a part.

A valuable tract of land had already been purchased for the manufacturing establishment and a contract for the construction of the plant had been let. As soon as a suitable location could be found, Mr. Seabright was going to erect a mansion in Almaville that would be the pride of the South. An option had been taken on a piece of property in the West End that about measured up to the requirements, and the likelihood was that the residence would be constructed there.

The mere prospect had caused the prices of the property in that vicinity, already valuable, to soar much higher.

The public soon perceived that the conservative, the reliable "Columbian," the paper of the Southern aristocracy, was favorably impressed with the Seabrights as a valuable addition to the commercial and social life of Almaville, and even the most exclusive circles prepared to make room for the newcomers.

The Hon. H. G. Volrees sat in his law office with his chair tilted back, his chestnut brown hair much rumpled upon his large Daniel Webster looking head. Here was one of the most astute legal minds of the state and the real head of the Democratic party of the state. He was now forty-five years old and unmarried. He had never held public office but was seriously considering entering the race for United States Senator. A venerable senator was to retire within about three years and the position could be his if he but indicated a willingness to accept.

The Hon. H. G. Volrees had large ambitions. He was anxious to restore the old time prestige of the South in the councils of the nation. He was a well-to-do man but did not have the money to gain an assured social position at the nation's capital. He fancied he detected the flavor of ambition in those flattering notices concerning the Seabrights.

"It may be that my hour has come," said Mr. Volrees, picking up the paper and looking again at the published picture of Eunice. He closed his desk and went to his hotel.

Mrs. Arabelle Seabright's net had caught its fish. And what had the fish caught? Now that is the vital question.

CHAPTER XI.
Unusual For A Man.

At an opportune time the Hon. H. G. Volrees announced his willingness to accept a seat in the United States Senate and long before the time of the election party leaders vied with each other in declaring in his favor. When the success of his candidacy was assured he approached Mrs. Seabright with a view to laying claim to his bride. The announcement of the engagement was made, the date of the marriage was set and preparations for the great event went on apace. Eunice appeared to enter heartily into all the plannings, and was seemingly happy to an unusual degree.

The "Daily Columbian" did its share in stimulating interest in the forthcoming marriage. Almaville as a whole seemed to be particularly well pleased with the proposed wedding, involving, as it did, a union of the wealth and beauty of the North with the brain and chivalry of the South.

As for Mr. Seabright, the more his family attracted social attention the more uneasy he grew. At first he did make out to accompany his wife to church and to theaters; but he had such a way of staring at the ceiling, avoiding the gaze of people, and hurrying away to escape introductions, that finally she was glad to leave him at home. Many brilliant social functions were given at his home, but he was always absent.

A Mrs. Marsh, in whom curiosity was more strongly developed than even in the rest of her kind, was determined to find out something about this eccentric Mr. Seabright. She managed to get on intimate terms with Mrs. Seabright, and was very free in moving to and fro in the Seabright residence. Her intentions were not however hidden from Mrs. Seabright. She knew that Mrs. Marsh was planning to get closer to her husband as a matter of curiosity, and she was glad of the experiment, hoping that Mrs. Marsh would eventually succeed in making him at home in the social circle.

There was a sort of turret-shaped cupola crowning the Seabright residence and Mr. Seabright made this his retreat. It was fitted up with a telephone connecting it with the rest of the house and with his place of business. It also had connections with a long distance system. The door to his den was always locked, and no one could gain admission without first calling him up over the telephone.

One day Mrs. Marsh, who was a good mimic imitated the voice of a foreman in Mr. Seabright's factory and caused him to open the door of his den. When Mr. Seabright caught sight of a woman's face and form he made a quick attempt to close the door, but Mrs. Marsh apprehending such an attempt, thrust a foot in so as to prevent this.

"Will you kindly withdraw?" asked Mr. Seabright, excitedly, holding the door as nearly closed as the foot would allow.

"No, thank you; I have had too hard a time getting here," said Mrs. Marsh cheerily. "To be frank, Mr. Seabright, would you allow a lady to be able to truthfully charge you with discourtesy?" asked Mrs. Marsh naively.

Mr. Seabright opened the door in despair, intending to dart out of the room as soon as Mrs. Marsh entered.

Mrs. Marsh was looking for just such a step and forestalled it by closing the door and pocketing the key. She now took a seat and bade Mr. Seabright to do likewise. Seeing that he had an unusual character to deal with, Mr. Seabright sat down resignedly to await the further pleasure of his female captor.

Mrs. Marsh looked directly at Mr. Seabright, and said, "I have broken through all rules of propriety in order to get to you. I wish to say to you, Mr. Seabright, that this plea of absorption in your business is all humbug. You have other and secret reasons for not desiring to appear in our social circles."

The perspiration broke out in great beads on Mr. Seabright's face.

"You have treated your wife and daughter shamefully, refusing to honor their social affairs with your presence," continued Mrs. Marsh.

The tone of reproach in this remark, indicating that Mrs. Marsh did not approve of his absence from social functions, caused Mr. Seabright to feel slightly better, as she evidently did not think that the secret reasons governing his course were to his discredit personally, else she would not have lamented his absence.

"You are from the North and rate the Southern women as being beneath your notice, do you?" inquired Mrs. Marsh.

"O no! no! no!" said Mr. Seabright. "On the contrary, I very much admire——," he did not finish the sentence, some fresh thought checking him in the midst of the utterance.

Mrs. Marsh waited for him to finish, but he did not go on with the remark. Finally, finding herself unable to make any headway with Mr. Seabright, Mrs. Marsh eventually arose to go.

"I would be very thankful if before you leave you will sign a statement that I shall draw up," said Mr. Seabright eagerly, going to his desk to do the writing.

Mrs. Marsh looked at him a much puzzled woman. His phenomenal success as a business man gave proof of his sound mental condition, and yet he acted so queerly about everything else.

"I wonder what sort of a statement he wants me to sign," thought she.

The paper ran as follows:

"This is to certify that I was in the presence of Mr. Seabright unaccompanied for a few moments and can testify that his treatment of me was in every way exemplary."

Mrs. Marsh smiled in an amused manner. "You are making me testify to the fact that I deserved my cool reception. I will sign." So saying she attached her signature to the paper and departed.

Mr. Seabright folded up the statement and put it among his most valuable papers. "This may save two hundred and eight bones from being broken. I think that is the number of bones in the human body," said he, double-locking his door.

CHAPTER XII.
A Honeymoon Out Of The Usual Order.

"Mr. Porter: Enclosed you will find a one hundred dollar note. For this you must see to it that this train stops after it has gone a few hundred feet into the long tunnel. Now you had better do as I tell you or else I will see that you have trouble. You know that any white woman can have a Negro's life taken at a word. Beware! Do as I tell you and say nothing to any one!"

The porter took the note and read it with much anxiety. There came to his mind instance after instance in which white women had given innocent Negro men great trouble. He had heard how that Negro tramps begging for food had been greeted by such a show of fear and excitement on the part of those approached for food that the tramps had been overtaken and lynched for alleged attempts at heinous offenses, when the real offense was that of begging for bread. He recalled one case particularly that took place on a farm adjoining the one on which he was reared.

The father of a girl seriously objected to the attentions being paid his daughter by a white man, and he cautioned his old faithful Negro servant to keep a watch upon the movements of the daughter with a view to preventing an elopement. Seeing that there was not much hope of outwitting the father without first getting rid of the Negro, the girl decided to get him out of the way. The Negro was so loyal to his employer and so faithful in the discharge of his duties that the girl knew that she could not attack him from that quarter. One morning before day she was found lying upon the front porch of her home, her dress covered with blood. When after much effort she finally spoke, she laid a grave charge at the door of the Negro servant. He was apprehended and a mob was formed to lynch him. The father of the girl, however, doubted her story and insisted that the Negro be given a trial. Within a very few days the girl eloped with the suitor so unacceptable to her father. After her marriage she testified that the Negro was innocent, that the blood found on her was the blood of a chicken sprinkled there by herself and that she concocted the whole story of the outrage to get rid of the surveillance of the faithful Negro servant.

The perturbed porter canvassed in his mind the stock of alleged facts circulated secretly among the Negroes setting forth the manner in which some white women used their unlimited power of life and death over Negro men, things that may in some age of the world's history come to light. After thoroughly considering the situation, the porter succumbed to the temptation and concluded to stop the train according to Eunice's directions.

Eunice read in the porter's eyes his acquiesence and her spirits rose high. She was all life and animation and the Hon. H. G. Volrees was regaling himself with thoughts of his home as the social center of the life of Washington.

"Let me bring you a drink of water," said Eunice laughingly.

"And where does Southern chivalry take up its abode while you do that?" asked Volrees.

"In the granting of the first request of a newly made and happy bride," said Eunice, playfully pulling Volrees down in his seat and tripping gaily out to get the water. She used a cup which she had brought along and into which she had dropped a drug of some sort.

Volrees drank the water suspecting nothing. As the day wore on he found himself growing very sleepy, but did not associate it with the water which he had taken. In order to get his business in such shape that he could leave it, he had not found much time for rest of late and felt that his tired body was now calling for rest. Eunice arranged a tidy little pillow for his head and watched him sink into a profound slumber.

Toward nightfall the train reached the designated tunnel. Eunice under cover of the darkness, incident to passing through the tunnel, went to the door of the coach without attracting much attention. When the train made the stop prearranged with the porter, Eunice dropped off of the coach step and stood with her back pressed against the tunnel wall. The train soon pulled out, the officials concluding that it was the shrewd trick of some tramp "riding the blind baggage" (between the baggage and the express car), who desired an easy way for alighting.

On and on rolled the train bearing the sleeping Mr. Volrees. When he awoke the sunlight of the day following the one on which he went to sleep was falling in his face. Tied to his wrist he saw a letter. Looking about for Eunice and missing her, he concluded that she was playing some joke, and with a smile he took the note from his wrist and read:

"Dear Mr. Volrees: Pray act sensibly in this trying period that has come in your life. Think well before you act. I am a sincere friend of yours and really like you. Now it will pay you to do just as I am going to tell you to do. Continue your journey to the Old World. From each point mapped out for a sojourn send back the appropriate letter from the batch which I have written and am leaving with you. I have read much of the places which we have planned to visit and I am sure that my letters have enough of local color to pass for letters written on the scene. Send these letters back to be passed around and read by my friends.

"In some foreign country telegraph back that I am dead. Your ingenuity can supply the details. By this time mother knows all and will join me in my advice to you. When you return to this country come as a widower and enjoy the money which comes to you through your marriage with me. By all that is sacred in earth and in heaven, I swear that I shall ever remain dead to you and will in no way directly or indirectly cross your path. Nor shall any one save my mother know that I am alive and she shall never see or hear from me again.

Eunice."

It was not long before Mr. Volrees was handed a telegram which read as follows:

"For God's sake do as the girl directs. So much is involved!

"Arabelle Seabright."

The Hon. H. G. Volrees' wrath knew no bounds. "What do they take me to be, a knight errant of hell and a simpleton withal? I swear by every shining star that I shall probe to the bottom of this matter if it shakes the foundations of the earth," said he. He took the first train back to Almaville, his spirit crushed within him, though he bore his sorrow with an outward calm. He utterly refused to discuss the affair, as did also Mrs. Seabright. Almaville society had not received so profound a shock since the unexplained course of Sam Houston in returning his young bride to her parents and disappearing among the Indians.

CHAPTER XIII.
Shrewd Mrs. Crawford.

This situation did not displease Ensal altogether. He felt that so long as Tiara did not and would not take more than a passing interest in him, he could continue to keep in abeyance that grave question as to whether, in view of the drift of things, a young Negro, absorbed as he was in the question of the condition of the race, should form family ties. So he journeyed along cherishing an ever-increasing attachment, but content for the present to worship her at a distance.

Mrs. Crawford, with all her quietness, was an exceedingly wise woman. She did not know exactly what it was, but she knew as well as did Ensal and Tiara that there was an artificial barrier between them. She also knew that if ever a man loved a woman, Ensal was in love with Tiara. And she knew more. She knew that Tiara was self-deceived; that Tiara herself would be the most astonished person imaginable when she awoke to find out how much she really cared for Ensal.

Mrs. Crawford knew Ensal's reasons for hesitating to form family ties, but did not regard them as substantial. She was determined that Ensal and Tiara should marry; her whole heart was set upon the project. Never in her whole life had she met a couple more clearly designed for each other than this pair, as she viewed the matter. She knew how firm of mind both Ensal and Tiara were and how useless it would be to attempt to talk to either of them. In view of the secret barrier, Tiara would have given her to understand that the matter was not worthy of a second's consideration. As for Ensal he could not have been brought to think that Tiara came any nearer being in love with him than with the rankest stranger, for in all their conversations, not being settled upon the question of marriage, as a matter of honor he had neither sought to develop nor to test the strength of Tiara's regard for himself.

Mrs. Crawford felt fully justified under the circumstances in forcing matters to an issue. She perceived that to do this involved a great sacrifice on her part, the temporary loss of Tiara's friendship; but she decided that the purchase was worthy of the price.

One night as Tiara was about to retire to rest, Mrs. Crawford dropped into her room for one of their customary chats. After talking on various topics she brought the subject around to Ensal.

"Now there is a young man that inspires many people with contempt," said Mrs. Crawford, in a manner to suggest that she, too, was one of that many.

Tiara almost fell, clutching the footboard of the bed for support.

"How can any one possibly have such an opinion of Mr. Ellwood?" asked Tiara, in tones of deepest injury.

Mrs. Crawford merely shrugged her shoulders.

"I have never met a nobler man," continued Tiara.

"Oh, some people have faith in the fellow," said Mrs. Crawford sneeringly.

"You seem to have changed, Mrs. Crawford. It hasn't been so long since I heard you speaking of Mr. Ellwood in the highest possible terms."

"We learn more of people from time to time and must revise our estimates of them in keeping with our more extensive knowledge," replied Mrs. Crawford.

"Be specific, Mrs. Crawford; Mr. Ellwood is a friend of mine," said Tiara, now thoroughly aroused.

"Oh, if you are that much of a friend, you might not be competent to weigh the evidence in the case," said Mrs. Crawford, smiling and arising as if to go.

"Would you cast aspersions upon a person's character and treat the matter so lightly?" asked Tiara, a flush of anger appearing on her face.

"Things other than moral blemishes inspire contempt sometimes. I do not care to say more about the matter. Good night," said Mrs. Crawford.

Tiara went no further with her preparations for retiring. She stowed away all of her possessions in her trunk and locked it. She then sat down and wrote a note to Mrs. Crawford, thanking her for her many courtesies and expressing regret that she found it beyond her power of endurance to longer stay under her roof.

Tiara now went to the telephone in the hallway and called for a carriage. It was not long in coming and she was soon being whirled in the direction of Mrs. Crump's residence.

Mrs. Crump was glad to receive Tiara and she was again assigned to the room in which she slept on the night of her arrival in Almaville. Tiara did not go to bed, but rocked to and fro, anxious for day to break, eager, so eager to see Ensal. At length the question crept into her consciousness: "Why are you so enraged? Are you as anxious to see every one whom you have defended as you are to see this one?"

"My God! I love the man!" said Tiara, rising from her chair and throwing herself face downward across the bed. "Oh, I must never see him again. He might read this awful, this maddening love in my eyes."

Early the next morning, Mrs. Crawford sent for Ensal.

"Mr. Ellwood, I wish you had been more frank with me," said Mrs. Crawford.

"Please explain," said Ensal.

"I took occasion to discuss you rather freely last night, and I seem to have given mortal offense to Miss Merlow, who appears to be madly in love with you."

Ensal was perplexed and knew not what to say.

"Where is Miss Merlow?" asked Ensal.

"She became so indignant that she left my house last night. When you win people's love to such a degree as that, you ought to post your friends so that they may be careful. Miss Merlow has gone to Mrs. Crump's. I shall offer you no explanation of my course until you have heard from Miss Merlow. Now leave me and go to her." Much mystified at the strange turn of events, Ensal took his departure.

The postman early that same morning had left the following note at Mrs. Crump's for Tiara.

"Ensal Ellwood is a noble young man. You loved him and did not know it. I have opened your eyes. Forgive me, dear, but I could not see two, whom I regard so highly, so far apart. As for Ellwood, the lad has never had his right mind since he first met you.

Madge Crawford."

That day a telegram came to Mrs. Crawford's for Tiara and she carried it to the latter forthwith. When the two met there was a mischievous twinkle in Mrs. Crawford's eyes and the light of happiness in Tiara's. When Tiara read the telegram she appeared much disturbed. That night she left Almaville. When she returned she bought her a home on the outskirts of the city, took Mrs. Crump to live with her, and denied herself to all her former Almaville friends, Ensal included. Eunice Volrees or Seabright, had come to stay with Tiara and the latter had for the sake of Eunice shut herself out from all her friends.