Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1899-06-28

my name Is Conway" she said gently.
ly at her, 81 would just as soon not see
your references. know too we'll the
lies one tells when one wants to pass
some one on to ones friends. / know
too well what they are worth. Your
last employer died, you tell me-
"But it mightn't be true" she fall
tered. 81 would really rather
"Do you want character with me 81
he broke in.
"But everybody knows you," she
cried ingenuously. Everybody has
read your books"
~ wish they did. should make a
decent income then. No, no, Mrs. Con-
way. I know what am and what I'm
not. know my own Limitations and
exactly what am capable of. It's my
business to read character. You may
not suit me as secretary. but only
time can show and prove that. So far
as you yourself are concerned, honesty
is the dominant note of your life.'
Mary could not help starting. Alan
Stacey continued: lyon give yourself
away continually because you cannot
conceal your real feelings. In sense
you are bad for yourself because you
cannot dissemble. You couldn't tell a
downright lie if you tried, and you are
so honest that you wouldn't try"
81 do hate lies" said Mary in tone
as If such fact were rather to her
detriment than otherwise.
"Let me look at your hand. Yes; 1t
is capable--precise, upright and highly
nervous. We shall be able to work to-
gether very well, am certain. At all
events, let us try tomorrow morning"
"Mr. Stacey" said Mary, rising as
she spoke. II will do my very best"
1--WE shall get on splendidly, he re-
piled, holding out his hand. 81 am do
ing particularly difficult piece of work
just now, most difficult subject, in
which the handling is everything, the
whole difference between success and
failure. was writing with my fist
yes, doubled up so-in despair, when
my servant told me you were here.
Look at this spreading out his hand
and showing an angry swollen red ridge
of muscle which rose between the first
and second fingers and extended beyond
the wrist. "That means the intensest
and most exquisite agony. It seems to
disappear above the wrist and to rise
again in the underside of the arm,
from where it runs in a rope Of pain to
the very armpit.
at must be horrible" said Mary.
care you working now2"
81 was when you came"
"Why don't you let me begin right
away, sirf" she ventured to say.
he looked at her again with the same
quick, alert glance as before. Don't
call me sir, he said, half amused
and half irritable.
81 always called Mr.. Desmond So"
she said meekly.
He had an Office and lot Of clerks;
that was different. don't require that
kind of thing. One sir would upset
me for morning. Come into my study.
like you for tackling the work straight
away. Well try how it goes.
Mary followed him into the study, q
long, low ceiled room with many books,
few pictures, some guns. fishing rods,
golf clubs, two luxurious sofa lounges
and half dozen capacious chairs. A
rough terrier dog lay before the open
window and big Angora cat, brindled
like bulldog. was in possession of q
fur rug before the empty fireplace. It
was revelation to Mary Conway-she
had never seen such room in all her
lie before.
She established herself at table and
they began. She was amazed at the
base and rapidity with which Alan
Stacey poured out his story, taking it
up at the last written word and spin
ming 1t out in the most vivid and inter
esting way. almost, indeed, acting it all.
30 for nearly two hours they worked
without a hitch. until the servant came
70 say that luncheon was served. Alan
Stacey drew long breath and rose to
his feet.
"Come to lunch, he said. 81 used
TO have ideas about not interrupting
the flow Of genius-but take my meals
at regular times now-it pays better
all round. Do you think you've got all
thatP"
II think so," said Mary. eff You
will allow me, will transcribe 1t after
lunch 30 that Won can see for vonrself -