Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1901-05-02
CHAPTER XIII. tcontinued.>

CHAPTER XIII. (Continued)
The oily sweetness had gone from
:madame's manner, as she put the ques.
ton. A new expression, Earring to the
girls car, was in her tone.'
She glanced quickly up. Her face,
too, had grown hard and cold. A sud-
den chill ran through Beatrice's frame.
AS madame had received her story,
80 would the world receive it.
ITO do?" she repeated. II came, ma
dame, to ask your counsel, and appeal
ITO your perfection, until 1 can see my
way clear to act. I remembered your
kind interest, and the promise so
GLADLY gave you when graduated, that
Il would always regard you as my
friend,
"Quite right, my dear-quite right;
but such a situation as this isl most
unlocked for-most unexpected. II
scarcely know how to act, or what to
advise. Why should you leave your
nome, Beatrice? Does you cousin drive
you from it's doors without suitable pro-
vision and support? Surely, he is most
heartless!"
Beatrice raised her head proudly, and
a haughtiness worth her old position as
Tlct ldlIl6I llelIcSS anu 1ICy odho
mistress marked her manner.
II left Gerry Oaks of my own free will,
madame The same roof could no long
er shelter Chester Randolph and N.Y.
self. Pardon me that erred in my APP
peal to you"
She rose, as she spoke, to her feet, but
was compelled to stretch out one hand
on the back of the sofa for support.
Madame rose, too:
TT am truly sorry Beatrice" she
said. But you must see, my dear, I
must think only of the pupils confided
to my care. They cannot be guarded
too carefully against association. OF
course, this unhappy story sooner or
later, must come out; and. under the
circumstances, should receive you, I
might be considered unworthy their
less, my dear. II am most truly sor.
ry-and-and-as your present means
are limited, you will, I am sure, allow
me to offer you a loan?"
And she drew out her purse as she
SPOKE.
For a moment the hot, red blood
dyed the GIRLS beautiful face to whom
she offered this last browning insult
wv I'LL q oupCiO SSS1uAS VI "Aooe~AAA SAAS
checked the F'renchwoman's motion to
unfasten the purse.
''Madame!" she said, and in her
voice rang a cold scorn which made
her listener vince.
She uttered but the one word, but 1t
was more eloquent than any further
speech.
Then she moved toward the door.
'Your bag, my dear Beatrice" said
madame and touched the bell. Gu
gene, mademoiselles bag" she order"
ed, as the same servant appeared who
had admitted her. "You must not feel
hardly, Beatrice" she added, as he dis
appeared on his Grand. II should
have guarded you as carefully under
reverse circumstances"
But for once, Beatrice did not even
hear. The words mingled with the out
side din of the street, as Eugene held
open the door for her to pass.
Mechanically she received the bag
from his hand; mechanically descend
ed the steps and turned to the right
rather than to the left; mechanically
went on, neither knowing or caring
whittier her steps led her, until she
found herself in the midst of the brill
liant scene Fifth avenue presents to
wards the close of a bright October
day.
She saw it as those who look upon
picture or a scene upon the stage, TAX
ing no part in it themselves.
She heard the light laughter bub-
billing from happy womens lips; saw
the horses drawing the luxurious car
riages in which they reclined go dash
ing past: but could not realize that she
herself was amidst it all. She stepped
down from the curb toward the street.
An legantlyappointed T-cart, in
which sat young man with no COM
panion save his groom, was being rap
idly driven down the avenue, when a
warning shout rang in the air; but she
to whom it was directed neither heard
nor needed.
A moment later there was sudden
commotion, and the crowd thickened.
A white, lovely face. with its veil
torn from it's protecting duty, lay in the
dust.
The girl had fallen directly beneath
the horses hoofs.