6
ARTFU
R. MILSON, senior partner of the firm,
was busy in his private office. There
was a knock at the door. "Come in," he
said.
A girl entered ; she was one" of the
clerks, twenty-two, slender, dark-haired,
and' pale. ' - " "
"Well, Miss . Findon, I understand you
want to speak to me?"
Miss pindon looked v. little scared. Mr.
Milson waS somewhat scaring fifty-five,
tall and stout, with deep lines, thick eye
brows, and a bald head. There was a chair
by the side of his' table, but she was not
asked to sit.
. "Yes, sir." The voice was courageous but hesitating.
Mr. -Milson, experienced in interviews, knew that she
had come to ask for something.. "I wanted, if I might,
to speak to ybu alone,""" she said uneasily. . A young
man, lean and long-faced, was writing at a table on the
other side of the room.
"Mr. Werriss hears and. sees nothing unless he is
desired to do so." -
"I I thought " She hesitated again and looked
across at the bent head. - . ' -
Mr. Milson put a shade of impatience into his man
ner; she was dissatisfied about something, of course,
or she wanted a raise. He would have no"young
women in his office who did not f ullv. appreciate the
privilege of being there; as for raising her salary, she
.was a very fair typist and could managthe French
correspondence, but she was well paid, twenty-five shil
. lings a week; lucky young woman to get such a post,
with thousands waiting,-for it if she Jwent.
- "Anything wrong. Miss Findon?" "
"I don't know what you'll think of me, Mr. Milson,
' but I'm doing such a daring thing," she said. He saw
that her eyes were large, gray, and pathetic; girls in
' her position, he thought, had no right to such eyes, or
at- any rate should only use them for their work, or
'. to charm fellow-workers of the other sex in the evening
when they went for a walk. All very' well then, of
course; nevertheless a little smile struggled to the cor
. ners f his mouth.
v. "What is the daring thing. Miss Findon?"
"I would so much rather speak to you alone." It
was almost an entreaty.
Mr. Werriss proved that he was alive only" by the
scratching of his pen. Mr, Milson became curious in
wardly, surprised outwardly. "To all intents and pur
poses we are alone," he said, firmly; "Mr, Werriss be
longs to our American branch, and makes no acquaint
ance in the office." - ' . -It
reassured her , a little. She looked 'toward the
young man again and noticed that his coat was shiny
on the shoulder; the light from the window behind
him betrayed it. She had heard that the son of the
American partner was in England, -but this could not
be he, for he looked poor ; anyway after Mr. Milson's
remark, he was not likely to tell any one in the office
what she was going to say. She turned toward her
employer again. "My brother has been dreadfully ill.
"He had typhoid and worked too hard; he was in an
insurance . office ; it nearly killed him."
"I believe other offices work their hands much hard
er than we do." Mr. Milson thought it as well to rub
that in.
"He is in a convalescent home now, he was two
months in the hospital before he went there."
"Where is the home?" Mr. Milson remembered that
he. gave ten guineas a year to one in Kent,, and in
return had the satisfaction of seeing his name printed
in a list of his betters.
"St. Eldred's at Shipton-on-Sea.
"I know nothing about it. What have you come for,
Miss Findon?"
"The doctor says he ought to live an outdoor life,
that he simply must have fresh Stir and exercise. If
he could go out to America or California It would save
him." -r
Mr. Milton raised his voice. "We've no vacancy in
our American house-1 have we, Mr. Werriss?"
Mr. Werriss looked startled. "We are full up over
flowing, I may say," he answered, and went on with
his work.
"I didn't want that." Miss Findon explained. "We
have a cousin in Los Angeles " .
"Well, 'you'd better write to him."
"I have," the tone was low, but pleading and excited.
He says that if Jack goes out he will start him on a
ranch. He may grow strong there and make a fortune;
but he must have his passage out, and things to take
with him, and a little money in his pocket."
"I've nothing to do with all this." ' Mr. Milson was
beginning to see the drift of- the interview.
She gave a little gulp, her eyes shone: "If you would
advance me fifty pounds we've no one at all to go to."
"I God bless my soul, you must be mad, young
woman. People don't do these things for strangers."
' "But if you would "
He cot her short with: "Why don't you ask your '
tocsin ; who is he?" - - ,
"He is a -Harvey Findon, he has a store in Los
Angeles perhaps you've heard of him?"
Mr. Milson was getting cross. "Of course I've not
beard of a man who keeps a store in Los Angeles-r-a
place with two of three hundred thousand people in
it. Why don't you ask him to help you?"
"I can't," she said, faintly, "I wouldn't for the world.
I would work it off ; you pay me one pound five a
week"
"A very good salary. We give it to you on account
of your knowledge of French; but it would hardly en-
abfe you to repay fifty pounds, if I were inclined to
lend it which I am not."
"1 would let you take half all of it if I could get
some French pupils for the evening. I know I can
teach it Well," she added with a gleam of pride.
"Well not discuss this matter further." He .put up
his hand wfth a sign of dismissal and turned resolutely
to his papers. "I think it a most preposterous request
Cud impertinent."
She hesitated for a moment "Please forgive me,"
jbe said.'
Re looked up and saw her eyes again. Something
twitched at his heart, but only for a moment. "Young
women are extraordinary beings," he muttered.
She went slowly out, closing the door softly.
Mr. Milson caught Mr. Werriss's eye. "Pretty
Cool ?" he said.
TVetl, she has the right idea," the American an
swered. "The most precious thing in thiS world is life;
money isn't any use without it and the highest form of.
It Is bottled up in human beings. She wants to pre
serve the one within her reach, and anything is worth
risking for that."
T think it was impudent of her." v
Why, no; it just showed she had a good opinion
ef-human nature."
"But Fm merely her employer. I never even saw
-fcer brother."
"That makes her opinion all the finer. I expect it's
bad a shock.'
"She's a gobd-looking young woman. He paused a
moment "I'm told ,she does her work very well."
"She wouldn't mind doing it on very little for the
sake of that brother."
"I dare say he isn't worth it. , .
Well, come to think of it, it generally takes two
ml
Bill
m sin
i -fan ml
MR.
By MRS. VV. K. CLIFFORD
Copy righted lill by Harper A Bros.)
men to make up the value in one woman.' Myself,
I like the risk she took coming into this, office and
asking for that money. You may depend on it she
didn't like putting her pride in her pocket on the chance
of putting fifty pounds in his." The black marble clock,
dusty and spotty, gave out an uncertain stroke, r.
Werriss apparently dismissed Miss Findon with a jerk
from his mind. "It's nearly lunch-time," he said, "and
I haven't finished up these entries." But he found
it impossible to get on with them. Something had
happened to him; he kept seeing a slim figure in black',
hearing a low voice plead for money to save a brother's'
life. Well there were hundreds of sick men with lives
to save. What did one more or less matter?
n ' . ,
He sat at a marble table in the cheap luncheon-place
round the corner, and was served with ..two poached
eggs on spinach and a cup of coffee. A little way
down, facing him, was Miss Findon, with a cup of
tea and half a scone; there was no butter to the scone.
When she looked up and evidently recognized him, he,
too, saw that the eyes were soft and gray ; but they
looked sad and tired, and her hands trembled a little
as she replaced the cup in the saucer. He wished he
hadn't come to the same place to which she had come,
but it was: his -habit to do so ; besides, he had never
seen her there before perhaps she had had a different
seat. He felt awkward, for she must know that he had
heard every word she had said. She finished her meal
quickly, paid threepence at the desk, and went out.
"I expect she's pretty well done," he thought. . "She
spent all her courage on Milson and probably hates
seeing me here." He looked up at the clock. Three
quarters of an hour before he need go back; he hurried
to the desk, told the young woman to keep the1 change
from his shilling, and stood outside straining his eyes.
He could just see" Miss Findon at the end of the street;
with long strides he fled after her. She went on toward
an old graveyard that had been cleared and turned into
a green space. There were two or three seats; tired
workers often sat on them in their dinner-hour, getting.,
such fresh air as was possible.'
Miss Findon sat with her back to him, and was very
still. He knew that she saw and heard nothing; he '.
passed behind the seat once or twice, then determined
to make a desperate plunge. He went up to her and
lifted his hat. "If 'you'll forgive me for speaking to
you, I'd like to do so," he said.
She seemed to be awakened from a dream. "Yes,
what is it?"
"I expect you saw me in the office just now?"
-. "Yes." Her manner was cold and discouraging. But
a brilliant thought had given him courage.
"I heard you say something about teaching French ,,
in the evening."
"Yes." "
"That language has been the great bugbear of my
life. I've never been able to get near it anyway,"
"OhT A smile'came into, her eyes. "It is difficult,
I know."
"Well, what I'd like would be if I could get at it on
the quiet of an evening through the winter ; I might
take it by surprise, and I wouldn't mind what I paid
if I did that." - .
"There are schools and classes."
."Don't want them; but I thought it might suit you
and help me, if we could come to terms?" i
, She looked almost resentful, and suspected 'him of
wanting to give her money in the guise of lesson fees.
'I shouldn't care to have one pupil only; if I had four
or five "
"Well, perhaps you'll allow me to sit down while
we discuss it?"
She nodded for answer. N
. "I'd like to know what your charge would' be."-
She felt that this was business-like. "I generally
get two shillings an hour for conversation lessons.
But. I would take less." , . .
"If you could get five of us together" r-he settled
himself on the seat as far away from her as possible,
he thought it -seemed respectful "why, that would be
two dollars and a half a night; say four nights a week,
ten dollars two pounds. It would mount up money
does. There's nothing more curious than money ; if
you don't look out, it slips away, and before you know
where you are it's gone; but if you go on adding to
it, it mounts up just surprisingly."
She hesitated before she asked, "Did you hear what
I said to Mr. Milson?" ,
"Why, yes, I did, every word ; I don't deny it. "I
was struck "
"Struck?" - .
"Why, with the sense that you've got to see that life's
valuable enough to make it worth while to ask for what
may save it. I hold with being independent. People
who are no use I mean who don't "work or make' you
feel better or happier, or decorate the world by being
good to look at, who don't pay for their footing in
any way are better dead; but there aren't many pf
them about. There's value in everybody I never yet
met any without it and jWe've got to do , the best we
can to keep them alive. As a rule, it can't be done,
without money."
She looked bewildered. ".'"'"
He explained. "You see, if a million arrived for a
man on his funeral day it wouldn't be any good to
him, whereas ten dollars the week before might enable
him to live and choose his own motor cars later on.
That's whv I thoueht it fine of vou to walk into the
lion's den this morning and ask for that fifty pounds. .
T 1 . 1 1 1 . i i r i . i
I bet you had a struggle to make yourself do it.'
Uh, I did. ihe gave a little shudder.
"Well, it's over. I wouldn't think 'of it any: more
only of some other way in which you can get , what ybu
want. If you take to teaching French, or" he stopped
and held on to the back of the seat "there's another
way ; if you wouldn't mind taking a loan from me "
"From you?" she exclaimed. "I couldn't; of course
I couldn't." -
"I've got it and I can't tell you how glad I'd be.
Money is no good till it's spent; there it is, and if
you'd make use of it "
"I couldn't," she repeated, firmly.
"Don't . see why you should mind borrowing of me
any more than of Mr. Milson?"
"I do. He is my employer. I've worked for him
these two years and he knows me. You are "very
kind; but It's impossible."
He was afraid she would get up and walk away.
"Well, you must forgive me for suggesting it." He
became business-like again. "If you don't mind my
asking, haven't ybu any friends or relations who'll run
to it?" -.,.."
"None, except Harvey Findon away in Los -Angeles."
She stopped for a moment, then added, - firmly, "It
would be impossible to ask him."
"Then suppose you think about the French ?"
"Yes,, 111 think about the French," she said anxiously,
"but Jack ought to go at once; November begins next
week. You see, the typhoid fever came at such a bad
time, before we'd finished off the debts that mother's
last illness made; he never told me how he starved him
self. He used to be so merry, it was dreadful to see
him white and ill, instead of laughing and running"
She stopped suddnely.
Mr. Werriss looked at her; he put his hand to his
throat as . if tp steady his voice, and took another
plunge. "Look here, Miss Findon, you don't know me ;
WERRISS
you may think I'm a bounder, but I'm not. What
you've said hasn't been much, but it's been like the
crack of a door through which you can see into a room
though you mayn't. ever get inside the room itself; and
I'm going to be very bold and ask you to let me help
save a man's life. It would be a ' grand thing to do,
and you could work it off with the French lessons."
He spoke so humbly that it was impossible not to
reach out to him a little.
"I couldn't," she said, gratefully, "but you are kinder
than any one I ever met." ' ' ' '
"I'd just love doing it. 'Tisn't a chance that comes
every day " " '.
From that hour he was possessed by Miss Findon. ,.
She came between him and his work, looked down at',,
it with her gray eyes, and spoke to him in the low,
clear voice that had now and-then a tremor in it; she
walked home beside him, in his thoughts, slim and
. compact, rather a small woman, five feet two, perhaps,
"but a little somebody" he said to himself, "the sort of
one you treat properly because she stirs up the best
in you and makes the rest hide; though she didn't do
it to old Milson ; believe she would to him, though,
if he'd seen more of her. As for you, Jefferson Wer
riss, you re losing your head about her. tie pulled
himself up to wonder why it was. He had seen lots of
girls he wasn't even sure that she compared favor
ably with some he remembered in New York but there
was something about her that made him almost dizzy;
the little way she put back her head, as if to keepyou
at a distance, that strange hat she wore, close and
black' with a velvet bow at one side, and well, he
.didn't know. It was altogether a queer thing about
women. Hundreds of them, smart and pretty and all
the rest, of it, might pass by, and then- one came along
and, for no particular reason you could state, took hold
of your thoughts and' kept them, and there wasn't any
. getting rid of her. He had heard other men say this;
he was beginning to find that it was true.
III - .. -'
- - -
Three days later Mr. Werriss was seated at the
marble table again, waiting and hoping for Miss Fin
don. . There was repressed excitement in his manner,
now and then a lurking smile about his mouth. He
had smartened himself up a bit, changed his coat and
tie, and looked quite different from the long, lank figure
that had Hvalked behind the seat on the green space" ;
gathering courage to speak.
She entered, with a quick step and a triumphant set
back of her shoulders, went straight up to his table, and
asked if she might sit opposite.
"Why, I'd like it," he answered, nervously.
Tea and scones had arrived there was butter to the
scones today before she spoke to -. him again. "I've
wonderful news," she said her -voice was husky "I
know you'll be glad."
He made a queer little sound of assent.
couldn't of
"Harvey lias sent the: money." '
"Oh?" . .- .. . ; ; - ;
"He sent it yesterday' isn't it wonderful?"
"What did he say?" '.'
"He cabled to a banker over here and told him to
write to Jack, at the -home,-to say-that it was wait
ing, if he'd cajl, and, that he was to sail at once."
"And he'll go to Los Los Angeles?".
"Yes, yes, of course, he will. . On Wednesday from
Southampton. . Oh., it's .life for him, it's salvation.
Isn't it splendid of. Harvey?"
"T.'- J ... 1- . jU: U
It's about the best thing he could -do,-and he prob
ably knew it." ...
"But he's 'only a cousin and he hasn't seen Jack for
a long time." - -'' - .' - -
"Well," he said, slowly,' "I never see any particular
virtue in -doing-a thing it would have been pretty bad
to leave undone.- L expect he's getting on out there?"
- "Oh yes, he's getting on.". . , . -
"And -. he has : saved himself from an , uneasy con
science.".; . ; - -; , ,
"Oh, don't say that." - Then, as if she divined the
reason bf. his lack of enthusiasm - about the distant
cousin, she looked up ;: his. eyes-were bent on her and
a strange- confusion gathered in - her own ; she shook
her head as if to steady her voice; "Of course, it was
much more wonderful of you- to do what you did; for
you don't know . Jack at all.' I don't believe you ever
saw me:. till I went into the office that' morning?"
"Well, no, I never did; but, as I told you, after that
talk the other'day,' I felt as" if I knew the inside of
your life as well as if we'd "been friends for the whole
of it. You won't want to go on with the French lessons
now. I guess?"
. "I will if you really want them; but well wait till
Jack has gone. I shall go to Shipton on Tuesday night
and take him to Southampton on Wednesday." . She
buttered the last bit of her scone. "1 wish I could do
something for you," she said.
He waited a full minute before he spoke and then
he seemed almost frightened. y
"You could something real big."
"What is it?"
"I'd like to get a day's leave and go to Southampton,
too."
She wasalmost startled.
He went on quickly, afraid of a refusal : "I wouldn't
come near you till just before the start. But I'd like
to shake hands with him. You'll be low-spirited when
he's gone, and I could ; bring you back if if there s
no one else?'.' .,'. i , .
"Oh, there's no one else." She considered for a
moment before, she added : v"It's very kind of you, Mr.
Werriss. I'd ; like you . to . go ; only" she hesitated to
mention it "it's such an expensive journey." - '
" .'"It 'is' a' gttod deal," he" allowed, "but I could run to"
it; and a sight of the sea would freshen me up."
' She scanned his face. '4 'believe it would," she said
as she rose.
"Now, I'm going to see about Jack's passage," she
said. - "Oh, it's fine of Harvey !" She gave a long sigh
of satisfaction.
They left the shop together. "Wonder if you'd let
me take you down to the shipping-office ?" he asked.
"You won't know the way."
She shook her head, but her voice was sweet. "I
want to be alone to think it over. I'm 4 not fit com
pany for any one today. ' I shall take a cab," she added,
recklessly. "I'm going to the bank first for the money.
Jack has sent me the order,, and I know where the'
shipping-office is."
"One ,is best alone when there's thinking to do," he
agreed. "The way into things and out of them seems
easier."
He hailed a taxi and put her in. "Lombard Street.
Bank of " He stopped abruptly and turned to her.
"I think you didn't say the bank?"
. "I believe you guessed it," she laughed, as she gave
the address.
" "Well, one does guess things sometimes," he said,
and closed the door. She leaned forward with the
radiance 'still : on her face ; it made a picture, and the
open window seemed to frame it. "
"Mr. Werriss," she said, "I think youare splendid,
too, and I'm glad you're going to see Jack."
IV
He didn't see her. again that week and disappoint
ment took hold of him. , "I exoect she's hurrvino; round
V-cettiner his thintrs " T-i c thntierht "I'll ct him nm
thing, too ; it might please her." He tried to think of
a present, but it was difficult to choose one for a man
he had never seen and of whom he knew nothing ' At
last it occurred to him that a book or two might be
the. right thing, so he bought Hapgood's Life of Abra-
, ham Lincoln. Any one going to the United States was
bound to be interested in it. And then he chose a his
tory of California that had pictures of San Francisco
in the earlier days when Montgomery Street had wood
en sidewalks and the. gold craze was on. It had views
of Los Angeles itself,, too, at the present- time, with its
orange trees and mountains, and an idealized picture
of its flat-roofed .business quarter. "I-e'll be able to
prime himself up with it before he gets there," he
thought.i s S
Monday came ; only two days remained before the
boat sailed. ' At half past one. he sat at the marble
table with his eyes fixed on the door. But there was
not a sign of her ' Probably she was busy, yet some
how -he had thought sjie would contrive to come. A
dull foreboding took hold of him, a dread lest anything
had gone wrong.
An envelope was on his desk when he returned, di
rected in a small, firm hand, wijh each letter clearly
formed. He knew it was from her, but for the life of
him he couldn't open it.. He pushed it under the blotting-paper
and went on with the entries in the big blue
lined book before him. .
Mr. Milson looked up. "By the way," he said, "that
Miss Findon has left. She is going to California with
her "brother."
"Oh well, it's a good thing for him," Mr. Werriss
managed to answer. The words before him became
course I couldn't.
blurred, his head swam, and suddenly he realized that
London was a desert and impossible. "This climate is
too much for any one," he jerked out. "I'm finding
that myself." '
. Presently he read the letter. It rati as follows :
"Dear Mr. Werriss, Harvey says Jack must have
some one to- look after him out there and has sent
money-for us both-to go. I suppose he cabled more the
other day, thinking it wouldn't be enough. We start
on Wednesday on the Tadmena. I expect this is good
by. Thank you-very much for all your kindness.
Yours truly,
Winifred rFindon."
There was not a word about his seeing her off.
He was on board the Tadmena more than an hour
before it sailed, but amid the confusion and crowding
he saw no sign of her. Then suddenly, just as the
dread of missing her was laying hold of him, he came
: upon her near the companion. She wore the ssfse close
black hat and tight cloth jacket, but there was a funny
little fur tippet tied round her neck with a ribbon bow.
She stood anxiously watching the gangway by which he
ought to have come on board; he had gone to the one
at the other end by mistake. Her face lighted up
when she saw him and she held out her hands. Her
gloves were screwed up in the left one. Oh, Mr.
Werriss," she said. "I thought you weren't coming."
"Told you I would," he said, and thought, "She was
looking for me that counts."
"Yes, but it was to take me back, and I'm going on,"
"I expect you're glad?"
"I thought Harvey would look after Jack, but he
says the farm is miles away, and he's taken up with
his work and other things have happened. Jack
couldn't be left alone with no one to look after him."
'Why, that's evident."
"But I didn't want to go like this. I shall pay
Harvey back, of course." She said it hurriedly and the
color came to her face.
An idea began to dawn on Mr. Werriss that disturbed
him considerably. "What sort of chap is he?" .
"He's very kind ; he always was."
"Old or young?"
"He must be nearly thirty." .
"Why. he's young " A dead weight settled on his
heart. "Is he "
A lanky youth with gTay-Mue yes and gay school
boy manner came up to them. "Here's Jack," she said;
"he knows all about you Mx. Werriss.''-
"I should think I did." the youths, claimed; Sand
shook his hand. "You have - beeri a'rl)ficfc--yt stun
ning." He sat down on a Beset, '..evidently 'ex)haut5t,
"A chap whh too much vrralityi''; He'll .bum out if
' he doesn't take care," Mr. Werriss thought.' "I guess
you are tired?" be said a bit awkwardly.'
"Rather," with a cough, "tmt rfs an awful lark going
to California. ' I had a very fine bust-up." Jack was
evidently a slangy youth. Typhoid and influenza take
the color out of things pretty completely. I expect
Winnie told you." He turned to her with, "Look here,
I wish you'd go and settla, up about the places at table.
I want to be away from the door."
"Wait here," she said, "and Mr. Werriss will keep
guard over you. I'll see what I can do. We dotrt sail
for half, an hour yet. Do. .make him sit still, .Mr, Wer
ris. j He isn't a bit strong." She turned' away. . "Are
these yours?" she asked, pornting to a packet and rolL
"Youll lose them in this crowd if you don't keep them
by you."
'"Why, yes, they're two booka," Mr. Werriss answered,
artfully concealing the fact that they'd been bought for
her brother. "I thought you'd like to do a bit of reading '
going across. You'll find it cold, I can tell you, so I
wondered if you'd mind taking this rug for me. You
can drop it on the other side. I brought it over and
want to get it back, somehow. I'll give you the address
to send it."
She looked up at him curiously. "Oh, but"
- "It's pretty cold crossing. I should think your
brother here will want it.
"I did get him one."
"Didn't get one for yourself. Til bet?"
, "No-o."
"Well, you take this. We long-distance Americans
know how to make a journey comfortable. You'd better
go and look after those table places," he. added. Some
thing made him anxious for a talk with the brother.
. "She always gets things done for her," Jack- said, ',
confidently,! when she had gone.'
"It was unexpected, her going out with you?" '
"Should think so. Harvey's been worrying about it
all the time "
"He wanted her?"
"Rather. He's ' awfully gone on her ; always was ; .
wanted to come back and fetch her. She never would
hear of it I thought he'd given Up the' game when he
cabled for rrie."
"And she's given in?' Mr. Werriss asked, trying to
make his voice natural. " .
Jack coughed and nodded. I expect so. He wrote to
her, not to me. She won't show me his letter,- but it's
all right." . ,
Mr. Werriss sat staring at' the crowd. . ' . ' "
"Is this chap Harvey going to join you on the farm?",
he asked. v
"Don't know. I thought he was, but now he says he
can't. Winnie's got it all up her sleeve and we've not
had time to talk it out yet.' I wasn't well last night and
had to lie low. I telegraphef her not to 'come till this
morning. Some people brought me in a ' motor to
Southampton and I didn't see her till she met me on
board half an hour ago." ' -
"I might have brought her," Mr. Werriss thought
"Luck's against me." ' ,
"Look here, I think I'll go and take some tonic stuff.
it's in that cabin if you don't mind," the boy said.-'
"This bustle goes to my head. Wait here till Winnie'
comes back or we might miss her in this crowd."
Mr. Werriss sat very still and thought, it over. He
was not getting much out of it; she was going away to
marry this cousin and he'd helped her to go. But it
couldn't have been averted, anyway and the boy's life
had to be saved. Besides, it was Harvey's "letter that
had done the business; the Jetter with the passage
money for both. He tried to think that he was a fool,
for he was in love with her, he knew that. It wars no
good disguising it to himself. She was - the sort of
girl he had always been looking for, waiting for, vague
ly hoping , to find, and now- another vchap hadheen
-i. before him.. . Bad luck, he called -it,- for'ythere-i'waa
something in her that spoke in. him, recognized him
it said that, given a fair field, he would have had. a
chance. "And with that little hand on. my arm, and
that little face looking up, why I'd tramp from here to
Jericho, carrying her over the rough places, and think
it a holiday march. Another cHa"p before fn. Jefferson
Werriss, you're done,"you're done!" Then she came
and he pulled himself together.
"Jack is lying down for ten minutes," she said. "He's
so tired and. the journey from the home and the con-
fusion on deck have been too much for him. ; I anr glad
.I'm going with him -he needs some oficJ.'T -" . .
,'lFor more reasons than one, H understand ?"i j t.-v.
She looked up. - - , ,',-,
"I am to congratulate you, am I not?"
"Congratulate me?"
"I understand you and Mr. Harvey are going to be
married. He's a lucky man." "
"It's not true." She looked right into his eyes. " "Jack
told you, of course, but he knows nothing about it."
"You mean to say " His voice shook.
'"That's why I didn't want to go to take Harvey's
money for myself. I was . so pleased when he cabled ...
only for Jack and said nothing about me. I thought
they would be on the farm together.. But his letter
has made it all right."
"How is it right ? Hasn't he been wanting to" marry
you all along J" . .
"Yes," she answered, simply. "But I didn't want tp
marry him he's very kind, but I never wanted, that.
And how he's married some one else, he told me in
his letter. But the girl's father doesn't know, and it
has to be kept a secret for some reason. He said I
wasn't .even to tell Jack, for Jack always tells every
thing. That's why he wanted me to go out ; it altered
things and he couldn't look after Jack. But Jack doesn't
know," she insisted, "and you mustn't tell him "
- "I won't," said Mr. Werriss, joyfully. He made an
other plunge. "Look here, there isn't much time to
say what. I've got to say, but I can't risk leaving it "
He stopped. "Well we're frieYlds, aren't we7 Do you
feel like that at all?" . ' " . .
She gave a quick little nod. ''.""'.
"I said to myself yesterday that Fd give the earth to
see you again I'd give it ten tithes rather than nof see
you not to see you a great daT; atld unless' you tell
me not, one fine day I shall b'6 walking up to the door -of
that ranch."
She laughed. The whole horizon seemed to clear for
her, too. "I. should love it." she answered.
"Say it again," he took her hands and leaned for
ward "and I'll lose my head fight off."
"You mustn't do that. Heads are very useful
things.1
"I'm going back next month to. New York. Cali
fornia's a pretty good journey, btit before three montiis
are over I expect youll see me Coming - along. My
goodness! I've thought of nothing- but you since that
day you came into the office. Queer, isn't it queerP
TheyVe getting ready to turn Us off. ' You won't for'- .
get?"
"No, IH not forget; you really mean you'll coma
out?"
"Indeed I will." r
They had been married three weeks ' before Mrs.
Werriss learned that her husband was the son of
the American partner and heir to his millions. She
had found out one or two other things that surprised
her a good deal. "I never dreamed it was you, for
a long time, not even when Harvey told me he hadn't
cabled any money," she told him. "Then I remembered
that you nearly gave the right direction to the bank.""
"You see, you wouldn't borrow it of me," he said in
an apologetic tone. '"And a woman has to be circum
vented." ' -
"You are very artful."' ,
"I am," he agreed ; "hut I have" found it answer. I
guess I shall go. on with It occasionally." ...
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