Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1898-08-04
CHAPTER I.


yember afternoon; from standing in dingy
offices until pert clerks shall have thought
fit to deliver her messages to their mas
tiers; from fighting her way into omni-
buses over a chevaux de frise of damp
umbrellas and dirty petticoats, and she
thinks she has earned the right to make
herself comfortable.
Miss Hephzibah Horton is her legal de-
nomination, for no man has persuaded hef
to enter into bondage to his will; but she
stands out for the Mistress" before her
name on the plea that no woman has a
better right to bear it than she who has
never been a slave. And since she has
turned the corner of the forties, nobody
dreams Of disputing her right to do as she
thinks best in the matter.
From little beginnings she has risen to
solid, if not great ends and now, at the
age when most women, if not married,
have become soured through disappoint-
ment, Mrs Hephzibah's days are employ
ed in a continuous round of duty, which
leaves her no time for discomfort. She
does not realize large sums for her work.
She is not a fashionable novelist, able to
command a thousand dollars for thou
sand pages of bad grammar and worse
taste; she is obliged to be as careful of
her diction as of her subject, for she
writes chiefly for the press, and there are
too many competitors entered for that
race not to render it necessary to keep
ones eye fixed upon the winning post.
A low tapping has been going on at the
door; but it is some time before she no.
tees it.
Come in,'' she calls out rather impa-
tently; adding: If it's the boy from the
Aurora office, Sarah, just tell him that the
copy is not ready, and it won't be ready
till tomorrow morning, so it is of no use
waiting. III send it by the first post"
Its not Sarah, Mrs. Horton; it's me"
replies the low voice of somebody who
has partially opened the sitting room door.
, Della Moray, whatever brings you
round here on such a night as this"
Il wanted to see you, to speak to you,"
says the stranger, in hesitating manner.
Besides, it is on my way TO the theater.'
"Now you must take off your things
and have some tea with me. 1t will warm
you before your walk to the theater. How
cold your hands are. Come nearer to the
fire. Why, my dear!-my dear!-whats
this?"
For Della Moray has sunk on foot
stool at Mrs. Hephzibah's feet, and, lay
sob bitterly.
''Oh. Mrs Horton, ar very, very mis-
cradle"
All the hardness fades out of the elder
woman's face as she lays her hand upon
her friends head, and pats it soothingly.
I'm sorry to hear it, Della Moray, but
could have told you as much long ago.
What else can you expect, when you put
yourself in the power of a man? Don't
you know that their tender mercies last
just as long as their admiration of you,
and that a WORKOUT woman is much the
same to them as a WORKOUT suit of
clothes-only fit to be chucked away?'
81 was so young pleads Della. Il
knew so little Of the world. l never
thought it would come to this"
$50 every poor fool says, who has made
trial of them"
''But feel as if couldn't stand it any
longer. 1 wouldn't mind his cruelty to
myself. Mrs Horton. 1 could bear that
but it is the child!'
"What of the child? How can he harm
him?"
He uses him as a tool to extract my
submission, and if / rebel in the least
thing he makes my poor Willie suffer for
it. l can hardly describe to you the pass
things have come to. He is hardly ever
sober night or day. l have worked to
supply him and the child with the neces
saries of life; but he takes every penny
earn for drink. and when | demonstrate
with him, and show him that Willie has
not sufficient food or clothes, he insults
and ill-uses me. Last night he threatened
to turn me out of doors. Look at my
armsr' she eXclaims suddenly, as she
pushes up the sleeve of her thin alpaca
dress. and shows the angry red and blue
marks of a fresh bruise.
She is pretty woman, of hve-and-
twenty this Della Moray, or she would
be pretty if she were not so thin and
worn Her Irish breeding is evinced by
her blue orbs, black hair and rose-leaf
complexion; but all trace of the national
archness and espieglerie has deserted her
countenance. Her sorrowful eyes are
surrounded by dark rims-the effect of
constant weeping-and there is sad
dropping about her pretty, quivering
mouth. Yet the inherent fire of her race
is only sleeping in her. 1t has nearly been
extinguished by iIl-usage. but the embers
smolder still, and only need helping
hand to fan them into fame.
"And that scoundrel can make beast
Of himself upon your hard-earned wages,
and then treat you like that" says Mrs.
Hephzibah, meditatively. Now, be frank
with me, and tell me the whole truth.
Have you ever given him reason to be
jealous of you:"
Never
''What made you marry this MANI" de-
mands Mrs. Hephzibah abruptly, as the
slight meal is concluded.
Della Moray looks up with a startled,
flushed face.
Didn't you hear my question? l don't
ask it without a purpose. want to learn
all you can tell me about your former
life. Perhaps may be able to help YOU"
How can you help met"
Never mind! Well talk of that by and
by. Tell me now about your marriage.
Where did you meet Mr.. Moray"
Miles away from here, at a little town
in Scotland where 1 was playing"
Was he on the stage as well2'
10 ~