The Wilmington daily Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1890-1902, 1902-02-20

|fN~NN0LI nrm nOlu on Alden
2-XSS left arm just above
the elbow as they left the house. Al
den seemed to be entirely Indifferent
to this attention. When he reached
the sidewalk, he paused, bringing his
captor to halt. The cab in which he
had come was beside the curb and Al
don, using his free hand, helped Bren-
da into the vehicle.
1t is not customary for New York po-
liccmcn to daily while their prisoners
perform the gentle courtesies Of polite
society, but Alden's deadly calmness
prevailed in this instance.
"Home:' he asked.
"st. Winlfrels," replied Brenda.
"Plcase tell him to drive fast"
Alden gave the order and then, ad.
dressing the young woman, said: Il
shall be there soon. They dare not
hold me-"
Brenda would have spoken, but the
horse suddenly started under the whip,
and the cab lurched on the rough pave
ment. The last glimpse Of Alden lift
ing his hat while the huge policeman
gripped his left arm remained with
Brenda like persistent nightmare that
survives the dawn. The conventional
courtesy stuck in her mind. 1t was
little picture Of the old days. the time
of small pleasures and easy living, so
sharply brought TO an end. Every.
thing in life had suddenly become diff
fcult. Words must be weighed and
ones conduct guided by a plan, not left
to mold itself into the forms OF mere
usage And thus she came to think OF
what she should do and say at the hos.
plal How meet the emergencies that
might arise? Had Elsie rcgaincd her
senses? Had she spoken, or did she lie
dead at that moment in some small,
bare room, watched by stolid nurse
who yawned and stretched herself as
the days work drew to close? A por-
trait in velvet frame Elsie's mother
beyond a doubt--recurred sharply to
Brenda's memory, and she shuddercd.
1t had stood OH the dressing table-a
woman not yet old; a pretty, smiling
face. 1t was dreadful TO think of that
face smiling there all that afternoon,
the eyes looking, yet seeing nothing,
the lips unable to utter a cry.
II must put it out of my mind" said
Brenda to herself.
At the hospital there was little to be
learned; nothing to be done. An elder
~ man who seemed to be in authority
said: "The child is still living. We
cannot predict the ultimate result Of
he injury as yet. You cannot see her
nor send any message. Leave your al.
dress. and we will communicate with
yon in accordance with the event,
whatever it may be. 1t will be useless
to wait. If you are able to see her at
all, there will be no great pressure of
line"
Brenda rode to her home. and MS the
OF the Avenue she was
that the white haired man
had spoken almost trnderly of Elsie as
the child"
There was no mother in the Maclane
mansion. She had been dead ten
Years. There was an aunt, an amiable
Did lady for whom Brenda entertained
70 little affection. but in the serious
lffars Of life she would as readily
ave taken counsel with her brother.
who was not yet -. Her father, for
50 strong man as he was in the
world OF finance, was Il weak man at |
lone. He had no gift Of sympathy, a
deficiency which may have accounted |
or both the strength and the weak |
lcss. Brenda told him the story Of
Ter adventures as it has been here set
0uh. and he received it with painful
surprise and lively alarm.
"Why did you 60 there he ex-
lnimed. "What possible interest
oul, Won have in this wrctcled yir:'
10 re continued.