Weekly commercial herald. (Vicksburg, Miss.) 1884-18??, 1885-08-07

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picion. he had even been down once more to
Oakbury, seen the Talberts, but had learned
nothing to his advantage. So course num-
Der one could not be counted upon to meet
the emergency.
Course number three, If the simplest,
was the most unpleasant, so he was con-
strained to adopt number two; at least, pro-
visionally.
Before his disgrace Hervey had occasion
ally n some work for illustrated period
icals. As this branch Of his late profession
seemed to offer him the best chance Of sup
plying his needs, he called Upon two or three
people whom he had known in former days,
and who, moreover, knew what had caused
his protracted absence. He simply said he
was anxious to redeem the past, and begged
for a helping hand. Selfish as the world is
supposed to be, there are many willing to
help a fallen man on to his legs. Hervey
received M or two promises, which might
or might not lead to remunerative work.
The months passed very dismally and
drearily for the second seeker, Frank Car
ruthers. He knew not where to turn, where
TO look for Beatrice. However, he was bet
ter off than Hervey, for he had direct intel
ipence from her. Once a month she had
written to her uncles, but her letters gave no
clew that could be followed They bore no
address; they we're posted in London; they
mentioned no places, not even a country.
She said she was living an exceedingly quiet,
calm life. She longed to see dear old Oak
bury again, and wondered if it would ever
be her lot to do so. In each letter she re-
GREETED the necessity for the step she had
taken and hoped that If ever her uncles knew
her true reason for it they would forgive her.
She trusted, nevertheless, that they would
never learn it. The only hints at locality in
any one Of her letters were that she men
toned that the weather was bitterly cold,
and also that she spent much time studying
art; was, indeed, learning to paint in oils.
These letters Herbert, who felt sympathy
for his cousin, sent on to Frank, and Frank
perused them again and again, endea7oring
by the light he had gained to read between
the lines. And the more he read the more
mystif1ed he became. If Mrs. Rawlings tale
was true, there was something which Her
bert and Horace never could, never would
forgive; yet Beatrice wrote as if forgiveness
was not an impossibility. Moreover, it
struck Frank that her words expressed a
doubt as to whether her uncles had learned
the reason for her fight. When should he
find herl When should he learn the whole
truth?
He searched her letters in vain for his
own name, for any message to him. The
omission troubled him, not because he
thought himself forgotten, but because it
showed him that Beatrice felt there was a
fate, which nothing could overcome, keeping
them apart. So her letters gave him no
hope.
Had he been an idle man Frank Carruthers
could never have borne those months of sus-
pense. But he was hard, very hard at work
on a second book. Believe me, a man does
not write his worst when his heart is sad. A
deficiency of the gastric juice or a supera-
bundance of lithic acid may ruin a mans
work, but not necessarily grief. Toothache
may prove fatal to inspiration, but heart
ache need not. So pending the appearance
Of his first book, which had for some reason
been delayed. Frank was busy with a sue
cessor.
About that first book, a s~atirical, semi
political novel, which, by the by, made a
greathit, Mr.. Carruthers, like allnew writers,
was as nervous and fdgety as a young hus-
! DdIu WuOSb DblONcu WIZ Is lOE UlO UISG .Clnle
about to increase the population. One day
it struck him that the great work would be
more taking if adorned with Illustrations.
He mentioned his idea to the publishers, who
quite agreed with him, only adding that six
full-page' illustrations would cost so many
pounds, IN expense they did not feel justified
in mourning. But if Mr.. Carruthers liked
to bear the cost, we'll and good. Frank, who
had money to spare, said he would see for
how much he could get them done.
He called Upon a friend, a Mr.. Field, who
knew oil about such matters, and inquired
where he could find hands competent, vet
not too costly. And this friend happened to
be one Of those from whom Maurice Hervey
had begged a helping hand. So it will be
seen that the Neutrality-suspicious. meeting
between Carruthers and Hervey was, like
all socalled chance meetings, when traced
back to its cause, quite a natural sequence,
Indeed it is hard to see how things could
have happened otherwise.
"There, a fellow called on me a day or
two ago. said Mr., Field, "a fellow who's
down on his luck now. He might suit you.n
"Can you recommend him? What is his
nameln
&C dont know that l can recommend him,
but you may give him a trial. He calls
himself Henry Morris. He's down On his
luck as l said"
"Write him a line and ask him to call on
me-" said Carruthers, who liked to help men
down on their luck. ''Is he ~cleverg"
"He's been idle so long l can't say. Look
here, Carruthers, make him do the drawings
on approval; and if l were you l wouldn't
give any money on account"
.''Send him to me and I'll talk to him"
Carruthers was just leaving the room when
his friend called him back.
II say, Carruthers, I'd better tell you,
then you can't say l didn't. This chap has
been in quod five years for forgery. His
names Maurice Hervey. 1 suppose he's out
now on ticket of leave. He tells me he
means to run straight for the future. Now
you know all about it and can please your.
self.n
The consequence was that Carruthers, who
held the same belief as him with ''the harm
of divers tones" resolved to see this man.
and, moreover, to treat him as if he had no
knowledge Of his antecedents. He was glad
to help any n back to the straight path.
Carruthers, who hated the bother of cater-
ing for himself, still lived at his hotel. lie
had taken an office in a quiet street some
little way off. Here he spent the greater
part of the day, writing his new book. cor
recting those delightful objects, the proofs
of a first book, or thinking sadly of Bea-
trice's and his own lot. This Office was on
the first floor and approached by a steepish
straight fight of uncarpeted stairs.