The St. Louis Republic. [volume] (St. Louis, Mo.) 1888-1919, 1902-04-13

was i~mplacable. and after partaking of her
tea entreated her friend to bear witness
that the attention was quite voluntary on
THE penwiper's" part.
PART II.
AS far as externals went. there was
nothing to indicate that the dinner was in
the East instead of the West Enc of Lon
don. The rooms were rather small. but de-
cfdedly cozy. Miss Carmichael had known
Walter Deans father intimately. He al
ways was an obstinate man when he want
ed anything" she said. II suppose you take
after him. or you wouldn't be here"
walter looked at Miss Shenstone and
thought that he could be very obstinate in
deed with regard to her should circum-
stances ever enable him to speak out. For
some months past he had been living in a
dream. when he had time to dream. which
was at i~nfreauent intervals. n he was
really making his way. He found the Ii
orary a very pleasant room at which to
work. Miss Shenstone and her assistant
were most considerable. He had the run of
the place. and could stay there all day in
a comfortable nook by the huge fire. And
iatterly Isabel Shenstone had become very
much interested in the pale, intellectual face
OF the dark-haired Young fellow who stuck
so perseveringly to his work. Indeed. II
was at her instigation that he had sent
stories to a certain paper, and that hey
had been accepted. He did not know that
Isabel had intimated to the editor at a
dinner party that the stories should be at
tentively considered. The editor. who was
on the lookout for rising talent" with
many misgtvings had consented to read the
stories. Past experience did not incline
him favorably toward the work of unknown
men. But Walter Deans stories We're very
good, indeed: the editor wanted as many
mora M tha author could --al,.a n-xn-
to this sudden demand. Walters clrcum-
stances had so far improved that he felt
justified In leaving '"The Muddles," only.
somehow. he did not care to do so: and
the reason why he did not care to do SO
was Isabel Shenstone. Still. he was poor
and she was rich. He could not speak yet.
Il have been telling my niece" said the
silver-haired old Miss Carmichael, that I
am tired of The Muddles.' There have been
two CHASTITY murders in the neighborhood.
1t Is not a fit place for either of us to live
in. Isabel has given the experiment a fair
trial. We have lived down here a year. She
has a following OF twenty or thirty people
who prey on her, I admit that the children
low her. However. it is time sha resumed
her proper position in society. That is the
fault of Girton. 1t units girls for society.
They always want to be doing something
Useful, instead Of sitting down and waiting
for what Providence chooses to send them.
In my young days 1t would have been con-
indecorous not to sit down and wait.
Don't you think It very unfeminine, Isa-
bel?"
Isabel seemed paler and more tired than
usual. IT have come to the same conclu-
sion, aunt she said. Il meant well, but 1
am a failure. All my strength seems to
have faded away; it must be the bad air.
We will go dow to the country
and take q pretty cottage. 1 can't bear to
49, L@--th1- -
haunt me. 1t makes one despair Of human
nature to hear of such sickening butchery.
What do you think, Mr.. Dean?"
As Walter looked at her. something In his
glance brought an unusual color into Isa-
bells cheek. You are right to leave here"
said, ~sorrowfully. 1T isn't fit for gently
ladies'. In your exquisite goodness
and desire to benefit your fellows, you have
borne all this without a murmur. but the
time has come when you ought not to bear
any longer. You will kill yourself"
Miss Carmichael had left the room.
Isabel turned away from his earnest
glance. There is only Miss Carmichael
who would lament me-" she said almost in
audibly, as she sank into a chair.
He came round to her side. Pardon me.
that is not 50. Every one who knows you
you left; but you must leave. II implore
"Why?"
For your sake-and-and mine"
She rose to her feet. confronting him.
You have said too much or too little. Do
you wish me to go? II you wan me to go.
I will go, but but -
YES" he said steadily. 81 wish you to
go. Some day I will tell you why.
should"
He hesitated.
Should what?'
should 1 be justified in doing so.-
She turned aside.
Before you CO." he said. II should like
to tell YOU what an angel Of mercy and
light you have been to me. I came to this
desolate hole-this vile den Of misery, want
and ~crime-utterly fr1endiess and alone.
You heIped me in a hundred rays: you en-
cpuraEed me to perssvere: Su gave me