The Minneapolis journal., 1901-11-12
Copyright, 1901. BY |. G. Byrne.


o'Neills office was small. He did not need
a larger one Young lawyers seldom do
Ihere are several good reasons why they
doht, put that has nothing to do with this
story.
The office was also an inside one-that is it
looked out on a court, a great, well-like
space bounded by four walls-not blind, blank
walls, but walls fairly bristling with staring,
impudent windows
Behind those windows myriads of busy men
and women worked at schemes by which they
hoped to enrich themselves and, sometimes,
incidentally to impoverish others; schemes as
rar-reaching in their consequences as the
stone which, thrown into a stream, sends a
ripple to the farthest shore
Still, though these schemes may have been
interesting to a thoughtful man making a
study of the great tragi-comedy of life, nei-
ther the walls nor the windows were partcu-
larly so. Yet O'Neill passed a large part of
his time gazing intently at the window op-
roBite his own
Time and again when he had seated him
self at his desk, determined to add chap
ter to the book destined to bring him fame,
and, what was of even more vital Importance
10 pay mis- most pressing bills, he found his
glances wandering across 'the space which
separated him from the desire Of his eyes.
half angrily one day as he found himself,
as usual, watching instead Of working-watch-
ing the slender modestly dressed girl who sat
IN the window working so busily that she had
no time to discover that opposite her was
young man whose valuable time she was
wasting. Or, if she had, she had never re-
vealed the fact. But the ways Of a maid
with man are not always simple, and she
may have been wiser in her generation than
he knew.
He had scarcely uttered the. wish before he
was fearful that it might come to pass, SO
ne cried out hastily, if anxious to pro
pltlate some jealous eavesdropping god VINO
might take him at his word: NO | don't
IN take it all back, dear little saint In
fairy tales men have been granted thoughtless
wishes to their own undoing, and she was
the princess of his fairy tale
Why, then, did he call her the saint? He
hardly knew. He certainly could not have
told why If asked. Yet he felt that it suited
her better than any other name he might
have used. Perhaps it was because she never
seemed conscious of him-saints have a way
OF ignoring poor mortals; perhaps because
she parted her dark hair, Madonna wise over
her rather pale face i'll fashion that added
soIemnity to its youthful seriousness; per
haps because the man who sometimes stood
near her, debating letters to her, looked such
sinner tnat, by the law of contrast he
made one think of saints.
O'Nein, at least thought he looked like
sinner, and one for whom there was no hope
old satyr!' he growled at him as, watch
ing from the shallow depths of his bare little
onlce, he saw him lay too familiar hand
on the girls shoulder. Il don't like his DO
lygamous eyebrows. By Jove! What a scoun-
drel!' For the satyr had suddenly stopped
and kissed the saint
"O Neill saw the start which showed how
unexpected the caress was, could almost hear
the frightened exclamation with which she
sprang to her feet. In another moment she
stood with her hat on, covering her type
writer, and then she was gone.
Tne young lawyer was hot with rage. fiery
with righteous Indignation. He flung him
self into the corridor and started around in
DI1nd zeal to do something, anything The
need for action was strong within him. But
before he made the first turning he felt how
lmpotent he was for he realized instinctiveIy
that the saint would shrink from the pub
licity of a scene.
But he was determined that she should
work no more for that man if he could helm