ft IVf.. Following- this advice, Esther cut from the next morning's papers all the obnoxious advertisements she could find. She lead them over with a shudder of horror that men and women could be so base and depraved. One in particular, signed "Malcolm," fas tened itself upon her mind. Thus armed, she started, early, to consult that prodigy of genius and brilliant leader in philanthropy, charity and morality, John Olmstead's nephew. She knew him well enoug-h by sight, and doubtless Stanton had frequently heard her name and even seen her dur ing the brief period when he was most in society. He might almost haTe seen her vestcidav. and forgotten. There was a strong similarity among women as he saw them. He never tried to re member unless they were in the wit ness-stand. As Miss 1 addon stepped into the ele vator the operator was showing another boy an item in the Morning Herald which intensely amused them both. Always mteiested in what mteiested the oung, she glanced over their shoul ders, to find them absorbed the ad ertisement signed "Malcolm." She re membered it well, and a new horror Allied her to find that even boys found entertainment in the pernicious matter and from it formed their notions of what leal life would be for them too, when they were old enough to enter in. As she crossed the hall to Stanton's -door, she whispered, indignantly: "Malcolm Herald. Up-town." She paused timidly upon the thresh old, fullj avvaie of the importance of the man she was about to approach, when the office boy came forward, le marking "Good mornin urn. Yer lookin' fur de Mr Malcolm as addetised in de Mornin' Herald, am? He's right in here, urn.' Before she could collect her thoughts, the door of the pnvate office had been opened, she had entered, and it had closed again behind her. It was all in an instant, and Esther Thomdike Brad don was face to face with John Olm stead's immaculate nephewotherwise Malcolm Her first thought as to get herself instantly away The next suggested that she be very sure, first, that she was light, then fly to her father with news of the clay feet of his idol. Tlicn a vein of amusement crept into the situation, and when she found that she was mistaken for an applicant hei woman's wit suggested that she had a glorious opportunity to investigate, draw him out, preach him a seimon that fchould wither him with shame, then tell him who she was, why she tame to him, and what eveiv true wom an would think of him Upon this plan she began operations, and she can ted out the planalmost to the end The end itself was not quite what she had planned She went di rectly to her father. She told him about the will, with its time-limit and forfeiture, of which he already knew, about the mistake in dates, ot which he did not know, about Richard Kay mond, which did not greatly surprise him about Stanton's determination to retatn the property, of which lie high ly approved about the matrimonial ad vertisement and the plan tor a limited alliance, which ceitainly did not affect him as i:&thti had feared it might aboutlast ol all &he pulled together all her coinage, dievva long, quivering breath, and vvitn fear and trembling as she though* of what she had done, beganabout what her angry, indig nant, sympathetic heart had prompted her to sa\ and do to help .John Olm stead's nephew and punish liichard Raymond ith wet cheeks she looked up to her fathci for his veidict If Thaddeus Braddon could have been left alone for the next five minutes, he would have given half his lortune but he was not left alone. Esthei's anxious, troubled face was right before him. Hi saved the half of his lortune, but Tic ran a great risk of internal combustion of some kind, which might have been much worse He did his best to look seiious and giave while she eontimied: "You know, papa, I didn ically want to marry Mi. Raymond at an\ tuna. never wanted to marry anyone, and I never shall want to. It will not matter at all if 1 am bound this way so that I oan't. Don't you think 1 did right, papa?" "Perfectly right, Esthei," Jiraddon said, solemnly. "J will look into this matter of Raymond at once, and if the half is true 1 will have a word with him. He will not annoy you after that. Any arrangement you have made with John Olmstead's nephew will be per fectly safe and honorable, rest assured. Now do you go right home and rest till the time comes. Marrying is a tough pull on the nerves, however you 3o it, and you'll need all your strength. I'll tell you what we'll do, Esther. You go through this thing like a major. The chances are he'll offer to give Up ft dozen times before you see the end, for he'll, think it's hard on you but don't you let him do it. Don't let any thing slip so that the boy will drop his fortune into Raymond's hands after [Copyright, 1898. by J. Llpplncott Co all and when it's settled you and I will take that trip to Europe we've been talking: about. We'll start one week froinHo-day, if 3*011 see this thing througn. all right. Now run home that'Js a good girl." At last he was able to lock the door of his private office and be alone. It was none too soon. Thaddeus Brad don, the white-haired head of Braddon fc Burridge, sank into the nearest arm chair, helplessly convulsed. Clasping his own bands, lacking the visible hand of his old friend to clasp, he shook them with cordial energy, gasping, between the uncontrollable paroxisms: "Oh, Jack, dear old boy, Jack, did 3 ou ever hear of such luck in all your life? Mary's boy, Jack, and my Esther! Why, it's almost as good as if Mary was to come back herself and marry me. Oh, Jack, Jack, Jack! And jUst to think! the two little fools don't know what they're doing, or they'd both of them kick over the traces and balk like a pair of mules." CHAPTER VIII. Thaddeus Braddon's best developed faculty was that of holding his peace and letting matters take their course, especially where women were con cerned. It was enough for him that the two who represented all the world to him were well married. He started for Europe with his daughter, and Stanton reached San Francisco none the wiser for what the old banker knew. The young lawyer had almost a week to dispose of before the sailing of the steamer. The thought of it was hor rible. He knew no one. He did not wish to know anyone. If he had seen a familiar face approaching he would have fled from it. He was unknown ^California, and the common civilities accorded to a stranger were responded to by him so coldly that they were rarely repeated. Very soon he found himself in has ideal condition of being let alone. And yet it was not his ideal. He called in vain on common sense to help him. He upbraided himself. He denounced himself. "I'm making an idiotic fool of myself," he gioaned. But between fact and philosophy the unfortunate shuttlecock was merciless ly battledoored, while a very common disease developed, in accordance with verj- well known laws. If he could only have realized that he was desperately in love, the case would have promised much more satis factoiv recovery. He insisted upon considering his symptoms the upheav als of lemorse for having cruelly wronged a woman. He felt that she must despise him. He knew that she was his wife. A few business telegrams arrived and were quickly answered. A few friend ly inquiries were forwarded, and were utterly ignored. A letter came from Dr. Borden, requiring a reply, and Stanton struggled with it. The good doctor wrote: "My Dear Boy:I trusted you that night, and I trust you still, but I am greatly troubled by reports and lack of facts If 3 ou led me into marrying you to a blank, simply that 30U might se cure 3 our uncle's fortune (however wise that step might be), you betrayed my love for you. It was a crime. If she was a woman whom you are ashamed to acknowledge, I have still done 3011 an injury rather than which I would willingly have sacrificed both my handfe." "I shall land in the insane asylum be fore the steamer starts," Stanton groaned, as he walked the room with Dr. Borden's lettei in' his hand. Passing a mirroi lie paused, folded his aims, and stood, foi a time, calmly looking into it. "Robert Stanton, 30a are a disgrace to humanity," he muttered. Throwing himself down at the table, he wrote to Dr. Borden: "I am leaving for Japan, and must answer 3 ou briefly. You did not marry me to a blank or to a woman I am ashamed to acknowledge. She was pre cisely what I represented, a true wom an, and I would that I were as worthy of my wife as she is of me." With a thrill of supreme delight Stanton hailed the first motion of the wheels as the steamer started, but it was of very short duration. He looked about the deck with a shudder. It was crowded with the promiscuous company always to be found on the Pacific. Before the land had disappeared Stanton discovered that it had been all a mistake to imagine that the starting of the steamer would better his condi tion. It had only changed it for the worse. As the dark fringe sank into the eastern horizon he clutched the rail, by pure muscular leslstance to prevent himself from leaping into the water not to suicide, but in an overwhelming desire to get back again to that fading fragment of America. The thought of imprisonment in that steamer while sbe crept over the thou sands of miles of blank ocean was more horrible than anything he had suffered on the land. "Oh, Stanton, you fool!" he gasped. Turning his back upon the east, he walked deliberately up to a company of passengers and began conversation with one of them. Before the sun had set the second day the passengers generally had discov ered that there was entertainment wherever Stanton changed to be, and that he was always the center of it. There is a wide diversity of taste and sentiment upon those steamers, yet no one seemed to take exception to the New York lawyer. "He's the jolliest fellow I ever met," said a somewhat wayward government clerk to two or three near him, when a week from shore. "Don't often find a jovial chap like him on board, that's a fact," replied a purchasing agent. "He is a great addition to our com pany .said a venerable returning mis sionary, whose only objection to Stan ton was that such men spoke well of him. "Jolly? Jovial?" the captain of the steamer repeated, as his gray eyes wandered down the deck to where Stan ton, as usual, was the center of a merry, laughing company. "Either I don't know what those words mean or I don't agree with 3011. We've been out for a week, but that man hasn't smiled since he came on board." It was difficult to believe, but the three watched and waited, only to dis cover that the captain's eyes were sharper than their senses. He was the source of many a mejiy peal of laughter, but he never smiled, -F He thought of the imprisonment on that steamer. and the fact sank into the missionary's heart. He knew that there was some thing wrong with a man who never smiled. He set himself to investigate, in the hope that he might render some assistance, and came, very correctly-, to his preliminar3 conclusions. Then he tried to secuie an interview, but Stan ton was never alone. In reality the 3 oung lawy er had sim ply discovered that of all disagreeable things which he would instinctively put away he was himself the most dis agreeable, and in a choice of evils he was putting himself away by keeping others about him. Many a troubled soul had done the same before, but he knew nothing of such sentiments, either in himself or in others. At last the missionary succeeded in finding Stanton alone on deck early one morning. He made a few preliminary remarks concerning the human duty of bearing one anothei's burdens, and said: "You have more friends on board than any of us, yet you seem to me to be in need of a real friend and to lack one. I wish that you could accept my sacred office, rather than its unworthy holder, and give me your confidence." "Do I act like one depressed?" Stan ton asked, absently. "You do, sir, and you are," replied the missionary. "You are the life of the steamer, but youi own heart is not in it. Do not be angry, sir. Remember that my only desire is to serve you. Let me even say frankly that you have seemed to me like one struggling with an unfortunate love-affair. Am I not correct?" "You are correct," said Stanton. "I am sorry, very sorry," the mission ary replied, with a look and voice say ing plainly that he too had suffered, long ago. "Was she unworthy?" he asked, gently. "She was exceptionally worthy," Stanton said. "That is something to be thankful for," the missionary exclaimed, glad to find something consoling. "It is well that you do not repent having cast your pearls to swine." "I am thankful," Stanton replied, with more energy than had been in his voice for many a day. He was looking backward. "Does she love another?" the mission ary asked. "No." "There again you are fortunate. Surely you must still have hope." "I have." "Good. Keep it. Hope deferred makes the heart sick, and your heart is sick. I knew it. But hope is the anchor to the soul, after alL Don't let the anchor go. Was there opposition?" "No." "Sometimes a little opposition is real ly a necessary stimulus. Why did she refuse you?" "She did not refuse me." "Can it be that you are so sensitive as to suffer all this simply for some fan cied lack of reciprocation in her face?" "I never saw her face." "My friend, you astonish me. I've heard of matches made by correspon dence 01 by mutual friends, but I nevei believed much in them. Tell me of this one. Was it by writing?" "I never wrote to her. I never saw her handwriting but twice." "We hav.e no mutual friends," said Stanton. "Sir, you amaze me. Who and what can, this woman be?" "She is my wife," said Stanton. "Sir, you are jesting." "Sir, lam not jesting. You appealed to your position for the right to ask me such questions as you chose. I have answered eaeh truly, so help me God." "Sir, you bewilder me. You astound me." "Sir, the same conditions have per plexed, amazed, bewildered and as tounded me too, quite enough to ac count for any slight depression which may have attracted your attention. It must be obvious to you that little bene fit can be derived through conversation, where the immediate effect upon you is the same as the more deliberate effect on me. 1 trust that you will respect what to mc Is a very painful subject, and never refer to it again." Whatever the conclusions at which the missionary arrived they were sure ly not unkind, for during the last din ner on board he rose at the table and cordially thanked Robert Stanton, Esquire, on behalf of the passengers, the officers, and the crew, for his un failing cheerfulness and his untiring good offices to all, making the voyage so much pleasanter and making them all better for his being among them. The sentiments were incomprehen sible and intensely disagreeable to Stanton, and yet there was something in them which set him thinking and gradually opened his eyes. "It was small thanks to me," he said to himself, as he thought the matter over on shore. "I never exerted myself in that way before, bimply because I never had a right good selfish incen tive. Misery drove me to it, but it surely did make others happier. I be liev it was the first time in my life that I ever attempted to make others happy, and it surely made me less miserable, too. There's an idea there that is good straight philosophy. If I think con tinually of myself, I've no time to think of others. If I think sometimes of others, I've less time to think of my self. I brought myself into a fine con dition, thinking only of myself. It is high time I took the hint. I don't wonder Esther Thorndyke didn't want me, but it may be, if I make myself different man, that I may yet be worthy of her as a real wife. I will try." Instantly the world about him began to assume an attractiveness which only his office and profession had ever pos sessed for him before. He found humanity an intensely in teresting study the moment he looked upon it as anything but a means to pro fessional comfort. More than that, he was astonished to find it instantly re ciprocative. Giving, it was given unto him, till he had more abundance of pre cisely the same commodity which he en deavored to impart. His enthusiasm for the new idea con stantly increased as he went on through the orient, following the itinerary, date for date, with careful precision. Increasingly the new theory worked wonders with the world as he saw it and it saw him. He was passed along from friend to friend, by letters and telegrams in ad vance of him, till it soon became evident to him that there was no possibility of taking the initiative, and that at the best he was only reciprocating. Strang est of all to him, he found himself en joying the condition, especially each op portunity to reciprocate. He was conversing with a Brahmin scholar, in Delhi, when the argument turned upon the value of men. "Surely we are all but atoms," said the pundit. "We are aiding to the ulti mate if we make men happier and bet ter, and we retard the progress of things when we wrong ourselves or others. An atom is of value to the ulti mate, and to itself, only as it is of value to others. The men who built these walls, thousands of years ago, aided to the ultimate. Do not you?" "I hardly know," said Stanton. "Of late I have been trying to follow vague hints, at least, in that direction and I confess if I had known, long ago, what I was losing by not following them before, I should not have lost so much." "Happiness is the highest state at tainable," said the pundit. "It is the highest conception of which the mind is capable, and the time to be happy is surely now. There is but one way to be happy and that is in makine others so." Stanton grasped his companion's hand as he replied: "That is neither pagan nor Christian. It is simply Truth." Even in the heart of Persiaeven in Bagdadhe found himself making friends, appreciating them, and pained at parting. They were new and de lightful sensations. Even the pain was a counter-irritant that served a good purpose. In Bagdad he found a young Persian, Shiekali, educated in Europe, who met him when the steamer arrived, warned of his coming by friends in India. He proved not only a most agreeable host, but a profound antiquary, who was just pushing forward to completion his dis covery that the base of the great river wall on the old Bagdad side of the Ti gris river was laid of Babylonish brick. One of these bricks was discovered while Stanton was in Bagdad, bearing the imprint of Nebuchadnezzar, prov ing the city to be of far greater antiquity than modern historians had been ready to admit, and identifying it as the site of the Bagdad mentioned in the Assy rian geographical catalogues of the days of Sardanapalus. At first it seemed of little consequence or interest to Stanton but Shiekali had a faculty of enriching a subject the mo ment he touched it, and before he left Bagdad Stanton was not only an en thusiastic admirer of the Persian and his theories, but an ardent participant in his researches. "What fabulous resources for enjoy- Then the mutual friends who have meAt are within our reach in every di- brought about this suffering must have rection, if our eyes are Only open vto a weight of responsibility." them!" he *^cla?ed. "And yet I came within a hair's breadth of living my life out *nnd dying in the theory that the only interesting thing in the world was a question of law." At last he reached Jerusalempoor Jerusalem!when she was staggering un*der the Christian orgies of Passion Week. It is a pity to see Jerusalem then, and Stanton sat in silent disgust in the gal lery of the Church of the Holy Sepul chre, looking down upon the mob of fanatics, and wishing himself back in heathendom, when suddenly his thoughts flew far away to his office in New York on that morning of Decem ber 6. He heard the voice of his first caller, speaking. He saw her eyes, bright, flashing, beautiful. He had thought about that day as little as possibly of late. It was by no means forgotten, noi was his strug'gle to become worthy of the end in view one whit abated, but thoughts of the past still roused only thei morbid sentiments he was struggling to dispel. Again and again he tried to put the memory out of his mind, but he saw only those eyes. He moved restly, and involuntarily looked across to the op posite gallery. She was there. Her arm rested on the tail, her cheek on her hand. Her head was bent forward as though she had been watching the rioters, but her eyesas plainly as though they two had been alone, he saw that those beautiful eyes were fixed on him. For the moment he could not move. Then, either because she saw that he was looking or because she did not see him at all, her eyes turned slowly to the crowd below. Instantly he rose, and as quickly as possible made his way to the opposite gallery She was no longer there. CHAPTER IX. "If she recognized me at all, she sure ly saw that I was coming, and left to avoid me," Stanton said to himself as he looked in vain along the gallery. "And really, now, I don't blame her for not running to meet th^e fellow for whom she found a wife. I hope I shall be able to show her some slight im provement if ever we do chance to meet." With that he dropped the subject and went on with his itinerary but the in cident had roused in him an intense longing for home, which grew strong er and strongei the more he tried to shake it off. He faithfully obeyed his mute director, following its commands through North Africa and Europe, till months later he was strolling through the Place la Concorde with a prom inent Parisian, congratulating himself that only Spam and Italy remained be fore him. The obelisk attracted his attention, and he paused as a hieroglyphic car ried him awa3 to his friend in Bagdad. Sudden^ her face shut out the obe lisk. Hei voice drowned all other sounds Her eyes flashed in his thoughts With the quickness of reflex action he turned, as a pair of fiery cobs dashed past him towards the Bois de Boulogne She was driving them. Beside her eat a white-haired man, and even in the first shock Stanton realized that he had seen his face before. Behind them sat the footman. Her eyes met his in one flash of recog nition, but before he could move she was gone. He stood silently watching while the carriage disappeared between the marble groups. Only vaguely he realized that the Frenchman was say ing: "So you know hei. Happy man! But you cannot win her, nor can anyone else. They say she has the wealth to purchase a prince, but she is always beside her father. She has beauty to capture anything, but she will look at nothing There are noblemen without number who would give their titles for such a glance as you received. Happy man! How I envy you!" Stanton winced as he thought how he had questioned that woman, in his of fice, less than a year before. "How she must have laughed at me, even if she did pity me and provide me with a wife!" he thought, as they walked away. The idea grew and de veloped, till he said to himself: "I'm unde* no obligations not to see this woman She came to me without an apology, when she had business. I will go to her. I'll tell her I am deter mined to be a different man and make myself wot thy of a leal wife. She helped me to win Esther Thorndike's assistance. She may be willing to help me to win her love." He finally recalled the father's face as that of Thaddeus Braddon, of Brad don & Burridge. One of the last vic tories he had won at the bar was an almost hopeless case against Braddon & Burridge. Stanton had noticed only the junior partner in the court room, but Braddon was there, and chuckled in a most unaccountable way as John Olmstead's nephew twisted his wit nesses about till they said precisely what they did not mean and the case went against him in spite of glaring facts to the contrary. Stanton easily learned the location of their lodgings. He found the place the next afternoon, and learned from a servant that Mr. Braddon and his daughter had left Paris quite suddenly and unexpectedly that morning, even forgetting to tell him where they were going or when they would return. The tips of his teeth showed under his mustache as Stanton walked slowly away, saying to himself: "So she did know me, and there's no doubt she intends to avoid me. Well, I'll not keep her away from Paris, right in the height of the season. I'll leave myself in the morning. But we shall meet sometime, my beauty, on this side of the ocean or the other and when we dq, have a word to say to you. Pm shamed of the man you knew me, but I'm noi ashamed to look you in the face and tell you so. You are my only po# sible means of reaching Esther Thorn*^ dike, and you must help me. You must* That's all there is to it." Stanton took pains to have definite statements appear, in the two journals which all Americans read, that he had left Paris for Spain and Italy, whence he should sail for America late in No vember, without returning to the cap ital. "If we meet again it will be your own fault now, and you will have to listen to me. See?" he observed but the weeks slipped away without such an incident, and he found himself in Na ples upon the eve of sailing home. Home? How he had longed for that time to come! Now it suddenly appeared to him that he had no home. The stately, old-fashioned mansion that he loved would be well aired and warmed to receive him on the 6th of December, for he had already sent the order to Sam and hisj wife. But wa that all there was of home? The good old couple would welcome him backback to sleep and bath and breakfast. But even that would in crease their cares, and necessitate more servants in the house to annoy them. It could not prove any real pleausre to them. "What is there, after all, in this going home that I've been longing for?" he asked himself, and the loneliness in him answered: "Nothing." He was sitting at one of the little tables, smoking, in that wondrously picturesque garden stretching between the broad and beautiful Chiaja and the incomparable Bay of Naples. San Martino looked down from the hill behind Capri lay a bright dot on the blue water, and flashed, as the sun went down, like a diamond set in a mirror of ruby and sapphire. The black murderer of Pompeii and Herculaneum drew a royal Tyrian mantle about his rugged sides and shrank away in the deepening gloom till only his grim, lava shadow stood in the gloaming against the sky, under the eternal pil lar of smoke, and down the long garden 10,000 lamps flashed out, enhancing its marvelous beauty. Even the waiters seemed happy as they dispensed the delicious creams and fragrant coffee to those sitting at the tables. From the grand pavilion one of the finest of Italian orchestras rendered such music as might almost have thrilled the frozen souls of the marble gods and goddesses. In the extravaganza of dreams Rob ert Stanton dreamed, not of the home that would be, but of the home that might be. He dreamed of Esther Thomdike there, his wifehis real wife. Suddenly the banker's daughter usurped the place, and the home changed to his office He heard her voice. He saw her eyes. "She is here." he muttered, and, turn ing as though some one had spoken, he looked, as he knew that he should look, directly into her eyes. And yet it caught his breath, and for a moment he could not move. Her father was beside her, at one of the little tables. He was listening to the music She seemed unconscious, almost as though asleep and dreaming, dream ing some delightful dream from which it would be cruelty to rouse her. For a moment Stanton's very life seemed to stand stillas a boat at the vortex of the Norwegian pool stops for an instant, shudders, draws back a handbreadth. then plunges and is en gulfed. Vnd the whirling pool was those flashing eyes. It would have been eay to make the plunge. It required a superhuman struggle to drag himself back from the spell. "This is not asking her to help me win my wife," he muttered Grinding Her fathtr was beside her. his teeth, he deliberately lifted his hat Then she woke with a start. For a moment she looked at him irresolutely. Her head inclined just perceptibly, and she looked away. That alone would not have caused Stanton to hesitate, but his heart was throbbing. His muscles were quiver ing. He did not dare to trust them. "Not here. It is too public," he said. "But to-nightto-ni^ht, before I sleep, I must see her." It was impossible to sit there, yet he would not have her think that she drove him too easily. Slowly he settled his .j bill, and very slowly made the usual preparations for departure but when, at the last moment, he glanced towards her again, the face was still turned away from him. She was talking with her father. With a troubled sigh he walked slow lyaway. It was not encouraging. f^ A hand was laid upon his shoulder| and a voice said: "Beg pardon, sir my name's Brad-1|| donThaddeus Braddon, of Braddon & Burridge, bankers, New York. You know the firm. You won a case against us a year ago. We were right, and you knew It, but you twisted our witnesse*. about till every "5 *sJ, s? **& *& i]