Chicago eagle. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1889-19??, 1898-07-02
CHAPTER X1.-(Continued)

slerly upon her, upon the small, dark head,
and the lovely pale face. The dress she
wore was fcckcd with the rich tints,
which stirred with the passing Of every
cloud In the sky.
In the center Of the window was n
shield bearing the crest and motto Of the
Harveys. Where Esther sat the shadow
Of this shield. complete to the gold stars
.on the margin. was Hung upon the board
ing at her feet.
Lord Harvey looked at It and sighed
Was II an omen? All! how well he knew
that this girl would never stoop to make
even that proud crest her own.
After a time he left her. and went to
the organ. He loved music rs 1t was In
him to love but few things. 1t was more
than an accomplishment: It was n neccs-
sary of life to him. And now, rs he play.
ed. the passion and pain In his heart seem
ed to translate themselves into his music.
Esther's eyes filled with tears NJ she
listened. The sombcr, old.timc room. the
glittcring lights which lay about her, yet
which failed to penetrate beyond the
small square place where she was sitting,
and that ma jcstic Hood Of passionate mel
,ody, worked like magic In her brain. Her
heart throbbcd, the blood rushed up into
her checks. In all her quiet life she had
never felt the STRINGS Of u spell like this.
This music was more than music. 1t
seized upon her. and thrillcdsIcr us II
some creature. whose speech she did not
understand. had como to her with mes.
sage. and was trying to make her know Il.
With little shivcr at her own fancics.
the girl got up, and. crossing the room
softly, stood beside the player. He did
not see her. He would not have heard
her Just then, perhaps. II she had spoken
to him. He was no longer stern and
grave. He was more than ever like that
picture In the gallery.
"why, he 10 almost handsome" Esther
thought, smiling q little. "What q pity
he can't look like that always"
Are you tired Of my playins. Miss Dur
rant?"
Then he turned and saw her beside him.
mo, you would tire before should"
She came step nearer. and q rose she
wore ut her throat fell close ut bis feet.
He stopped and picked It up. but be did
not offer to restore It.
"Miss Durrant," he said. abruptly, look.
ing up ut her, II want you to grant me q
favor. VIII your
II will IL I can" she answered. slowly,
II want you to lot NE be Jour friend. :
lie said. 1T seems q tsranse request,
have no doubt. You perhaps think you
will never need one, and trust you never
may. Notwithstanding iittle-"l should
like to know thnt. IL you ever did need
ono. you would come to me-"
What should she say to him? What
tic could there be between them In the
future. they two, 10 fur apart Ia station.
He saw her hcsitancy. and fastened to
argue II away.
mo one can forctcli what tho future
holds for any OF ~. The time might
come when even could Ike useful to you
or years. II 1t never comes, there 10 NO
harm done. Only I should like you to
promise that you will think Of INC 40 nj.
ways ready to do anything In my power
TO help or-or to comfort you. Will your
EYES," she said, gravcly.
"Thank you. And now, II you have
had music enough. We will 70 and sec
what Clare has done with herself"
All that day his woris-h,s manner
more than his words-hauntcd Esther
What could have put Il into his head thu,
she should some day stand In need OF
some one to help her? He did not seen
tho sort Of man to be plagued with Idle
fancics, and yet surely this was ono!
Tho next day would DO her last ut Alb
bcylands, and she was glad Of Il. She
should feel better, shc knew. when she
was back with Bcrta and Dulcle. This
grand formal life had tired her. 30 she
told herself.
When she went up to her room she
found note lying on her dressing table
1t was from Dulcle, and had not long
before been brought BY a messenger.
"COme home ut once, dear" Il said
1--WE oil want you badly. Don't stay ar
hour longer than you can possibly help
after you receive this. Aud don't think
me foolish or selfish In asking you Il
break short your pleasant visit. Believe
NE. ] am neither-th!s time. Now, u
ever, your true friend. DCLC1E."
Twice. three times, Esther read thi,
note. It brought tho writer very plainly
before her. That faint perfume OF void
rose was Dulcie's own atmosphere. VIVA,
could the girl mean? Could anything
have gone wrong at The Elms? Surel,
not, or Berta would have written. For i
long time Esther sat and thought II over
the open letter on her knee. All heI
friends seemed bent In dealing In enigmai
that day. She felt vaguely uneasy and
uuik SuCIlucu " W NcAcu WIN OutCl0 xOl
making her 80.
II will 20 home" she thought. '.I'hcy
shall not persuade me to stay day long
Ger, and then, perhaps. Dulcie can explain
her cnigmatic epistle."
1t was long time before she coulC
sleep. When sleep did come II was brok
en- by dreams. She thought that she wa,
walking barefoot over sharp, jagget
rocks. The tide was tapping In between
them, and sea weed dOated about In III
current. The light was faint. and NOR.
than once she stumbled and felt her fee
sinking in Ooze and sand.
But all the time she was conscious Of q
hand grasping hers-a strong hand, OF
which she leaned trustfully. Suddenly
this hand loosed It's hold, AMI. looking
down to discover the cause, she recOilet
In horror. They were aeshless finger
that she clasped. She called aloud In hel
terror, and tried to shake Oh the awfu
thing. Slowly It Enclosed, and, as II Eel
away, the sea rose and rushed over her
aud she awOke, crying bitterly.
The dawn was creeping up. then. BE
tween the curtains Of her window a faint
gray light showed. which. she knew
would brighten presently. A ghostly 81
lence brooded over all things. Tho chill
of that curious breathing time that Ma
ture claims for herself when the fight witt
darkness ID ended struck unOn EstheI