Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1897-02-04


All the geniality that had gradually
come into Wentworth's face and man
ner vanished instantly.
GO this is the old business over
again, IA.
How can >" say that" cried
Jennie, reproachfu.- "~' asking
for my own satisfaction enII.~-, nd
not for my paper. Besides, 1 tell you
frankly what l want to know, and
don't try to get it by indirect means
I by false pretenses-as you once said"
How can you expect me to give you
information that does not belong to
me alone? l have no right to speak OF
c business which concerns others with,
out their permission"
"Ah. then there are at least two others
! concerned in the mine," said Jennie,
| gleefully. Kenyon is one, | know,
| who is the other?'
Miss Brewster, l will tell you moth
ing"
but you have told me something al
ready. Please go on and talk, Mr..
Wentworth-about anything you like
and | shall soon find out all | want TO
know about the mine"
She paused, but Wentworth re-
manned silent, which, indeed. the be-
wildered young man realized was the
only safe thing to do.
'They speak of the talkatiyeness of
women Miss Brewster went on, as if
| soliloquizing, "but it is nothing to that
| of the men. Once set a man talking
and you learn everything he knows
besides ever so much more that he
doesn't"
Miss Brewster had abandoned her
| very talkative attitude, with its sug-
gestion of confidential relations, and
had removed her elbows from the ta-
| BILE, sitting now back in her chair gaz-
ing dreemily at the dingy window
which let the light in from the dingy
| court. She seemed to have forgotten
that Wentworth was there, and said
more to herself than to him:
~ wonder if Kenyon would tell me
about the mine?"
you might ask him."
"No, 1t wouldn't do any good" she
continued, gently shaking her head.
Hes one of your silent men, and there
are so few of them in this world! Per-
haps | had better go to William Long
worth himself; he is not suspicious of
| me-"
And as she said this she threw a
quick glance at Wentworth, and the
unfortunate young mans face at once
told her that she had hit the mark.
She bent her brow over the table and
laughed with such evident enjoyment
that Wentworth, in spite of his help
less anger, smiled grimly.
Jennie raised her head, but the sight
of his perplcxed countenance was too
much for her, and it was some time be-
fore her merriment allowed her to
speak. At last she said:
"Wouldn't you like to take me by the
shoulders and put me out Of the room.
Mr.. Wentworth?"
I'D like to take you by the shoulders
and shake you"
"Ahl that would be taking a liberty,
and could not be permitted. We must
leave punishment to the law, you know,
although l do think a man should be
allowed to turn an Objectionable visit
or into the street"
"Miss Brewster" cried the young
man, earnestly. leaning over the table
toward her, "why don't you abandon
your horrible inquisitorial profession
and put your undoubted talents to
some other use?"
"Wha., for instance?"
"Oh-anything."
Jennie rested her fair cheek against
her open palm again and looked at the
dinpy window. There was a long ST.
lence between them. Wentworth was
absorbed in watching her clear-cut pro-
file and her white throat, his breath
quickeniDg as he feasted his eyes on
her beauty.
81 have always got angry" she said,
at last, in a low voice, with the culver
of suppressed sigh in it, when other
people have said that to mel wonder
WHY 1t is ! merely feel hurt and sad
when you say it? 1t is so easy to say.
oh-anything'-so easy-so easy. You
| are u man, with the strength and de-
| termination of a man, yet you have
met with disappointmcnts and obsta-
cles that have required all your cour-
age to overcome. Every man has, and
with most men ii Is n fight until the
head is gray and the brain weary with
| the ceaseless struggle. The world is
| utterly merciless; it Will trample you
down relentlessly If it can, and If your
vigilance relaxes for moment it will
steal your crust and leave you TO starve.
~ n n l. 4. l.
| contest, with no quarter given or taken,
L shudder and pray that l may die be-
fore am at the mercy of the piti1ess
| world. When L came TO London saw
for the first time in my life that hope
less melancholy promenade of the
sandwich men, human wreckage drift
| ing along the edge OF the street, as
II they had been cast up there by the
rushing tide sweeping past them.
They-they seemed to me like a tot
tering procession of the dead-and on
| their backs was the announcement OF
play that was making all London
| roar with laughter-the awful comedy
and tragedy OF it! Well, L simply
couldn't stand It'll I had TO run up
side street and cry like the little fool
/ was, right in broad daylight"
Jennie paused and tried TO laugh, but
the effort ended in u sound suspiciously
| like n sob, and she dashed her hand,
| with quick impatience, across her
| eyes, from which Wentworth had never
taken his own, watching them dim az
the light from the window proved too
strong for them, and finally fill as she
ceased to speak. Searching Intellectual
| ly about her dress for handkerchief,
which lay on the table beside her para
sol, unnoticed by either, Jennie went
on, with some difficulty:
"Well, these poor, forlorn creatures
were once men-men who had gone
| down, and If the world is so hard on
a man, with all his strength and re-
| sourcefulness, thinl-think what 1t Is
for a woman 10 be thrown into this
inhuman human turmoil-a woman
| without friends without money
flung among these relentless wolves
to live If she can--or-to die-if she
can"
The girls voice broke and she buried
her face in her arms, which rested on
the table.
Wentworth gprang TO his feet and
came round TO where she sat
Jennie" he said, putting his hand
on her shoulder.
The girl, without looking up, shook
off the hand that touched her.
eco hack Ia v1ur ulacefb she cried,