Evening journal., 1900-03-08

| iOW uel 10 receive any one save the
men he brought to their apartments.
She never went out unless Fanshaw.
suspicious and sardonic, walked at
her side
The poor woman was virtually a
prisoner. Her beauty was used by
her husband TO lure men to his table.
His rabid jealously, however. protect.
ed her. Fanshaw's guests were con.
tent to admire his wife at a safe dis.
tance.
One night there came a new victim
TO the gamblers table He was a
stalwart. handsome, pink-cheeked boy,
with honest blue eyes and good.
clean pair of lips. He was seeing life.
He had money to burn" one Of Fan.
shaw's familiars informed the gam.
bier. He burned IL In Fanshaw's fat.
He came again and again. II was
soon palpable to all that the copper.
haired woman had bewitched the boy.
He was simply infatuated with her
beauty and grace. But In vain did he
/ try to get speech alone with Mrs.
Fanshaw. The dull, smoldering eyes
Of Mrs. Fanshaw's husband were ever
upon the pair.
One night Harry Gillette. the lamb
who was slowly but surely being
fleeced by the wolves in the little up
town fiat. slipped a note in Mrs. Fan
shaw's hand. She cast one frightened,
imploring look at her husband. who.
she well knew, had seen the transac-
ton. She tucked the note away In the
lace of her corsage and in sheer des.
peration faced the reckoning she
knew was impending.
When the last guest had departed,
Fanshaw, who had lost, and conse-
quently was In an ugly mood, turned
savagely on his wife. "Give It to me-"
he demanded peremptorily She
obeyed.
He read It. and then, lifting his dull.
heavy eyes, said: Men do not write
such notes unless they are encour-
aged"
Dick. I never"
"Of course not. Women never do.
Now listen. For this I viii squeeze
the very blood out Of that fellows
veins. Any one can see that he is mad
about you. Damn him"
He flung the note in her lap. Read
IT." he commanded. She read.
Dear Mrs. Fanshaw: You look so
wretched, so unhappy. that II really
makes my heart ache. Is there any
way can help you? Is Fanshaw as
cruel to you as every one says? Do
let me befriend you. Yours,
''Dick," she said bravely. that is
not a love letter. The man Is simply
sorry for me. That's the first kind
words have had for years
Well it's the last you'll have for
years" Fanshaw retorted; so every
one says I'm cruel to you. BY God. II
I've the name I'll have the game. An
swer that note. Answer II. I say" as
his wife shrunk back before the look
In his face. Tell your lover that you
are wretched and that your only hap
/ piness Is to see him here every night" i"
"Oh, Dick, / cannot" she moaned.
You Will do as / command you"
Fanshaw replied HIS smoldering eyes
on hers. How dare you tell me you
cannot?"
Two days after this encounter, Fan
shaw came home looking as genial as
/ possible for him. He tossed a parcel
into his wife's lap as she sat silent,
: lonely, brooding. There; take that" "
he said, "and fix it up and make your
self as pretty as you can when the
boys are here"
She opened the package and re.
pressed a cry OF plasure The silver
brocade fell out The sheen and
sparkle of the splendid fabric would
have appealed to any woman. Mrs.
Fanshaw was quite touched by her
husbands gift. She rose to give him
a timid caress, but he pushed her
aside. and. going to a desk in the cor.
ner of his den took a pack of cards
from an inner drawer.
The woman who was watching him,
grew pale. She had not seen him bring
out that pack for years. She crossed
the room and looked over his shoulder
as he sat there fumbling and studying
them. Dick" she cried. what are
you going to do?"
"Do?" he growled. I'm going to do
your friend. I see his finish"
Mrs. Fanshaw turned without a
word and went back to her work But
new light crept in her soft. deep
eyes and resolute lines curled the
corners Of her lips.
The next night she stood before her
dressing table and regarded her
beauty with mournful Intensity. OF
what avail had it been to her? What
had it brought her but misery? And
tonight preSclence OF something
terrible lay upon her, a gloom she
could not shake of. With a sigh she
patted her beautiful hair and tried to
smooth the lines that were beginning
to creep around her red lips-lips
formed for love and kisses, but droop.
ing now in pathetic curves.
The old silver brocade became her
marvelously. She had resurrected a
few yards Of cobwebby lace. remnant
Of former grandeur. These she had
draped about her perfect shoulders
rising white as marble from the
filmy meshes. She had no ornaments.
nor did her beauty require them.
When Gillette came in that evening
he gave palpable start as the superb
woman rose to greet him. He had
never dreamed she was so beautiful
"Will you accept these?" he asked
proffering her huge bunch of Parma
violets.
Mrs. Fanshaw took them with de-
light. She inhaled their perfume with
ecstacy. Then she pinned them on her
breast.
Fanshaw watched this little sceno
with lowering brows, but offered no
objection to his wifes reception Of the