Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1897-10-23

a scanty livelihood. A scamp. my dear,
| with but one ending before him."
f, The words haunted the girl stirred again
| the accusations which she had leveied at
herself. Whatever road this most un-
| worthy man might be travelling she hated
| the thought that her hand should have
| thrust him step or two on the despai-ing
| journey.
Quite by accident or by fate's ruling
Tor what We deem accidents are often but
| the careful plannings of fate-she heard
| where Richard Felgate lived With her
courage In both hands-w:th the sublime
| beauty OF her innocence shining in her
eyes and glowing in her face-she went to
| see him.
1t was a bold and desperate measure but
She mad been rendered bold and desperate
| ny those growing self-accusings and nv
| ner pity for this outcast. His suggested
lniquity frightened her. but his suggested
COON was still more appalling. She carried
| resolutely before her the memory Of bis
pleading voice when he had begged for her
forgiveness the remembrance of the weary.
| reckless face.
There can be nothing wrong in it," she
| said TO herself; There can surely no moth
ing wrong in anything which is done for
pity-which has good for its ultimate aim.
ne was sittirg alone-brooding with his
mead IN mis- hands-when she entered his
uhtldy and neglected studio; he started
! up, staring as though at a ghost She
flushed to her mission with hurried words.
fearful Of delay. ''
b.n Mr. +, Felgate,' she said. holding out her
anus 10 him. You came to me- a little
llne aga, ard refused to hear you. / am
sorry. WIN you believe that am sorry?"
ere IoES her hands looking into her
stand" he said. who sent YOU to me-,
That is unge-erous of YOU"
| Ar forgive me-" he cried quickly ct
ana ungenerous. indeed. But your visit is
sucn surprising one; you come like Iiehr
INTO this dreary place.
| II, surely 1t should not be dreary. Mr..
ifeigate, Where one does the work one
Work! 1 have long ceased to remember
the better nearing of the word,
But that should not be-" she said ear.
atou. Won in fba. ! have heard so much
And. having heard so much about me
You come here?" he asked grayely.
res, because 1 want to help you. Mr..
ITO help rue? You've set Yourself q
task, fear, Miss Roughton."
AN! please don't laugh at me-"
Laugh at You. child! 1 am nearer to
, lars man laughter, 1 think. 1 did not
Know that there were such women as YOU
ielt IN the world; 1t has not been my fate
10 ma them. Come-tel me; how win YOU
help me?" wv
there was such grave consideration in his
eyes, that she began to lose her first fears
or the monster. If 1t be in the power of
any wonlan-and 1 have heard IN said tb.t
woman has such powerful try to draw
you back to better things. You must not
mind If I speak plainly; I'll try to be your
friend. II you will let me: I'll make you
take UP your work again, for the works
sake. She stamped her foot and set her
small white teeth hard. .Come-is II "a
bargain" She held out her hand to him.
IN the name of all sweet and holy
things" he answered her solemnly. yes"
He put the hand to his lips.
That Was the beginning of the strange
BUSINESS the end vas to come in another
Iashion- She began to discover soon the
magnitude of the task she had set herself:
to see that this was not a thing to be
nightly taken up and lightly dropped
Small and frail woman as she was, whose
lie had hitherto been almost purposeless
she grew to understand that she held this
mans soul in the grasp Of her two hands:
that he chung to her with the desperate
energy or one suddenly awakened to his
peril, pleaded to her. with those weary
eyes Of his to watch and have faith in
him.
More than all, 1t required constant tact
and care, this delicate business Even her
power sometimes went for nothing and
the whole gamut Of after-repentance and
renewed promises and prayers, had to be
gone through. Times there were, too when
serious measures were vain, when testing
served better than prayers when IL was
possible to laugh him out of some new
reckleSSneSS of folly.
Then came new development. Tongues
began TO wag. In her innocence-in the
keenness of her desire to help this man
She had not thought of that possibility: her
clear young soul refused to take in the
strangeness of ner visits to a man against
whom SO many doors were closed That
she believed in him-believed in the sweeter,
better nature of him-had been sufficient TO
her.
The friend-a discreet married woman
worldly wtse-who had first mentioned
Richard Felgates name was the first 10
voice the whisperings. She took the girl |
aside and sharply questioned her.
Mr.. Felgate is my friend" replied Dora
Roughton. her face a little troubled
Friend! Stun and nonsense! We're not |
living In Arcadia, my dear; we're in Lon
don. in the 18th century-and that man |
has about the worst reputation of any in
our small world. told you SO when his |
name was first mentioned; you must surely /
remember that?'
Yes. I remember. think that first
made me go to him. I wanted to help
him."
That sort of missionary effort is gen.
orally only effected in one fashion, when /
a woman undertakes the pious Office"
laughed her friend, land that fashion is
by touching the mans heart. Friendship
won't do 1t. preaching won't do ft-love
may"
Lover cried Dora, startled. 'You are
talking nonsense. I'm sure no such thought
has ever entered my mind-or his. We are
just good friends. cannot you understand
that? II believe in him. and-and be-
I believe In him-well-he
works-and talks to me about his work |
your mind runs In a very mar
row grower
"A groove that has been proved, aaafn
and again, to be only q well-worn road, my |
dear. with experience for a dngerpost."
It was on the occasion OF her next visit |
to Richard Felgate's studio that the lesson
was driven home. She had been admiring