The Tupelo journal., 1902-10-24
End Of the Chapter.

II ENYON MEREDITH twisted
IN round several times on his re-
volving chair, and, with an impatient
movement of the hand, said:
ASK Miss Gerard to come in here"
The frown left his face as a girl
entered-a girl who was unknown to
him save by name.
Il don't know why it is" she said,
without preface, 'but mother can
know no peace till she has seen you.
She knew your father, you know"
with a queer, ironical smile. "How
bored you must be with people who
trade on that past acquaintance to
make You do things you hate!"
Not at ALI" he FASTENED to assure
her, letting his quick, appreciative
eye roam from the soft curve of
her uplifted chin to her little pat
ent-clad toes, that were tracing pat
terms on the carpet. 'Only, you see,
/ no longer practice"
"a t~riviality of that sort means
nothing to mother" she averred.
And he laughed-a very attractive,
pleasant laugh-and wondered why
she reused in him interest; why he
kept silence that he might hear her
voice; why he felt compelled to seek
her glance, that glance that wan
dered rather haughtily over his head.
She ought not to attract him, he told
himself, and yet she did. Her man.
-ner was very distant. her mouth
grave, and if her eyes had a lurking
smile, it was, he felt sure, an habit
ual one, born of gay good humor-
of sweet temper.
Mother has made up her mind to
e YOU" she continued, land the
fact that you no longer visit or re-
ceive patients only makes her more
determined. viii you go to her? She
SEM me, instead of writing you a
note"
Meredith inwardly complimented
Mrs. Gerard upon her choice of a
messenger. Aloud, he merely said:
at will give me great pleasure"
and ose as she did, furtively mark
ing the mixture of question and in
credulity in her straight, raised eye
brows.
She thanked him gravely, indiffer-
emily, was evidently quite uncon-
scious of the warm pressure of his
handclasp, and, with a slight bow,
left him.
And that is how they first met.
Yesterday she was but a name to
him; he was hardly aware of her
existence. To-day-in ten minutes
the world, in some inexplicable way,
had changed for him. The dull, blue
glasses through which he was accus-
toned to look upon it were snatched
from his eyes, snatched by a soft,
tender hand, that replaced them, all
unconsciously, with those which were
rose-hued.
With a light laugh, he pushed aside
the papers on his desk, and fell to
pacing the room restlessly. Once he
stopped before a mirror, studying in
it his reflection. He was neither
young nor g~ood-looking; but his face
was kind, open and full of character.
1t bore traces of some suffering, too,
and the lines about his clean-shaven
mouth gave evidence of great deter
mination, hat matched a certain ex-
preston sometimes to be seen in
his eyes.
And when he had spent more than
an hour in thought, he put on his
hat, and paid his promised visit to
Mrs. Gerard, with promptitude which
she considered very lattering.
Mother is not really ILL.,"
There was no question in the girls
tone. She was standing before
Meredith, her eyes fixed searchingly
on his; and they were both occupy
ing the half-yard of Mrs. Gerard's
balcony which was not covered with
flower boxes.
"No, not really" he replied un-
guardedly, watching the little soft
rings of hair as they were lifted
from her forehead by the light night
wind.
ssThen why have you come here
every day for five weeks?'
Tt was a question he was not pre-
nared to answer off hand, and so
took refuge in temporary silence.
at pIeases her." he said at last.
aShe-she-has confidence in me;
and-it enables me to see you, too
sometimes"
.Sometimes?" she queried, and
emiled-one of her rare, sweet
emiles-full in his eyes. He thrust
his hands into his pockets, over
coming a desire to draw her into
Mis- arms. And his voice sounded
cold when he spoke again, because
a the restraint he was putting on
himself.
aYour life cannot be a happy one,
sh,t up in this great house, in ever
lasting attendance upon"