davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
The San Francisco call., 1904-12-11

able; 50 much discipline would be quite
wholesome for him. For her own part,
though, she wanted to get out of the
room.
May I ring for the real Richards
and Oh, l beg your pardon, Blake,
Richards and send word to your
mother. Anna?"
Grantley was, as usual, urbane and
unperturbed
III go and find her for you. think
she's lying down"
'Oh, we'll then"
NC, L know she'll want to see you, y
and Anna ran lightly out of the room.
Graftley strolled to an armchair and
sank into it. He did not look at Blake,
nor, his formal greeting given, appear
to be conscious of his presence.
Young Blake was in turmoil He
hated to see Grantley; all the odious
thought of his failure and defeat was
brought back. He hated that Grant
ley should have seen him making love
to- Anna Selford, for in his heart he
was conscious that he could not cheat
an outside vision as he could manage
to cheat himself But both these feel
ings, if not swallowed up In fear. were
at least outdone by it. His great de-
sire mad been to settle this matter
finally and irrevocably before hint
of it came to the ears either of Grant
ley or Sibylla. What would Grantley
do now?
You saw us?" he asked in a sullen
anxious voice.
Il couldn't help it. I'm sorry" said
Grantley in colorless politeness.
"Wen?"
Il really don't understand your ques-
ton, Blake. At least you seem to mean
il for a question"
You do know what l mean. I'm not
going to ask any favors of you. l only
want to know what you intend to do?"
About what?"
About what you saw-and heard,
too, 1 suppose?"
Grantley rose from his chair in a
leisurely fashion and stood with his
back to the fire. He was looking at
young Blake with a slight smile; Blake
grew redder under it.
"Oh, / can't beat about the bush,
Blake went on impatiently. You
might, if you chose, tell Miss Selferd
what you know"
"Well?" said Grantley in his turn.
"And-and oh, you see what might
happen as well as 1 do. IL meant to
to explain at my own time; but
II shouldn't let the time come in a
hurry. Blake. It'll be very awkward
quarter of an hour for both of you, and
quite unnecessary"
Unnecessary"
There was a ring of hope in Blake's s
The San Francisco call., 1904-12-11
eeeeeeeee eeess

he ventured on throwing out feeler
Annals unruffied composure persuaded
him that she knew nothing of the facts,
but her shrewd analysis of Sibylla
showed, in his judgment. that sic quite
understood the woman. 1t was the
dusk Of the afternoon again (Anna
rather affected that time of day), and
Blake, with sigh which might be
considered as in the nature Of a con-
fession, ventured to say:
Il wish 1 could read people as you
can. l should have avoided a lot of
trouble
You can read yourself, anyhow,
can't you?" asked Anna.
by Jove, that's good-that's very
good No, / don't know that / can.
But I expect you can read me, Miss
Selford. I shall have to come to you
for lessons, shan't I?''
I'll tell you all the hard bits she
laughed.
"You'll have to see lot of me to
do that!"
Anna was not quite so sure Of the
need, but she did not propose TO stop
the game.
DO I seem so very reluctant to see
a lot of you?" she inquired.
BlakeAs eyes caught hers through the
semi darkness. She was aware of the
emotion with which he regarded her.
II und an answer In her, an answer
which for the moment upset both her
coolness and her sense of mastery She
had q revelation that her dominion,
not seriously threatened, would be
pleasantly checkered by intervals of
an instructive submission. This feel
ing almost Smothered the element of
contempt which had hitherto mingled
in her liking for him and impaired the
pride of her conquest.
Il was judging you by myself. Com
pared with me, you seem reluctant" "
he said in low voice, coming little
nearer to her. But then it does me
a lot of good to come ard see you.
It's not only the pleasure 1 come for,
though that's very great. You keep
up my IDEALS
I'm so glad. The other day 1 was
told I'd ruined all somebody's ideals.
Well, 1 oughtn't to have told you that,
1 suppose; but it slipped out"
Things will slip out, If one takes care
to leave the door open.
She was standing by the table and
Blake was now close by her.
"Since I've known you"
why, you've known me for years,
Mr.. Blake!"
mo. l only knew a little girl till-till
1 came back to town this time" He
referred to that yachting cruise on
which he had ultimately started alone
But since then I've been a-different a
sort Of fellow. l want to go on being
different. and you can help me-" His
voice trembled; he was wrapped up in
his emotion and abundantly sure of
it's sincerity.
Anna moved away a little, now
rather nervous. since no instinct. how
The San Francisco call., 1904-12-11

ever acute, can give quite the assur-
ance that practice brings. But she was
very triumphant, too, aid moreover
good deal touched. That break in
young Blake's voice had done him good
service before; it never became artl-
ficial or overdone, THANKS TO his facul-
ty of coming quite fresh to- every new
emotional crisis; it was always most
happily natural.
"Annal" he said,> holding out his
hands, with those skillfully appealing
eyes of his just penetrating to hers
With a long drawn breath she gave
him her hand He pressed it and be-
gan to draw her gently toward him.
She yielded to him slowly, thinking at
the last moment of what she had de-
cided she would never think about and
would show no wisdom in recalling.
The vision of another woman had shot
into her mind and for a few seconds
gave her pause. Her hesitation was
short and left her self-confidence un-
broken. What she had won she would
keep. The dead should bury it's dead
"a thing it had declined to do for
Christine Fanshaw.
Anna he said again. do you
want me to say more? Isn't that say
ing it all? 1 can't say all of it, you
know"
She let him draw her slowly TO him;
but she had spoken no word and was
not yet in his arms When the door
opened and she became aware of a
man standing on the threshold. Young
Blake, all engrossed. had noticed moth
ing, but he had perceived her yielding.
'Ah, my Anna" ne whispered rap
turously.
Lush" she hissed, drawing her hand
sharply away. rs that you, Rich
ards?''
Richards was the selfords' man ser
want.
The man laughed.
If you'd turn the light on, you could
not mistake me for anybody so respec-
table as Richards" he said. I've been
with your father in the study and he
told me 1 would find your mother here. y
Anna recognized the voice.
Mr.. Imason, 1 didn't know you were
in London"
Just up for the day and I wanted
to see your father"
Anna moved to the switch and turned
on the light. She glanced hastily at
young Blake. He had not moved; his
face was rather red and he looked un-
happy Annals feeling was one of pro-
nounced anger against Grantfey Ina
son. His appearance had all the effect
of purposed malice; it made her feel
at once jealous and absurd. But it was
on her own behalf that she resented
it, She was not free from Willingness
that Blake should be made Gncomfort-
The San Francisco call., 1904-12-11

wounded child and the other two ter
rified little creatures. Suezette Bligh
gave him her account. The doctor
told him that Sophy was no longer in
danger but that the matter was a
grave one-a very serious shock and
severe local injury; the child would
recover with care and with quiet. but
would always bear a mark Of the
wound, an ineffaceable scar. That was
the conclusion, half good half bad,
reached after night of doubt whether
Sophy would not die from the vio-
lence and the shock.
Did you see your wife," Grantley
asked
See her? 1 should kill her if 1 saw
her." groaned Tom.
'But-but what's being done?"
She's in her room-she's been there
ever since it happened. Suzette's seen
her-nobody else. Nobody else will go
near her. OF course while there was a
doubt about Sophy-well, the doctor
made it a condition that she should
confine herself to her room till the
thing took a definite turn 1 hope
she's frightened at last. 1 don't know
what to do. The woman ought to be
hanged, Grantley."
But wrath and horror at his wife
were not the only feelings in Toms
mind the way the thing had hap
Dened raised other thoughts. He was
PROSTATE under the sense that the
fury which had smitten poor little
Sophy had been aimed at him; his
acts had inspired and directed it. He
had made his children's love for him
a crime in their mothers eyes. All his
excuses. both false and real, failed him
now. His own share in the ira gedy of
his home was heavy and heinous in hi
eyes.
Il ought to have remembered the
children" he kept repeating desperate
". He ought to have stayed and
fought the battle for and with them,
however hard the battle was. But ne
had run away-to Mrs. Bolton-and
left them alone to endure the increased
fury of Harriet's rage. I've been a
damned coward over it, he said. and
this is what comes of it, Grantley!"
1t was all true. Tom had not thought
of the children. Even though he loved
them, he had deserted them treacher-
ousi--. because he had considered only
his own wrongs, and had been wrapped
up in his own personal quarrel with his
wife. What he had found unendurable
himself he had left those helpless lit
tie creatures to endure All the argu-
ments which had seemed so strong to
Justify or to palliate his resort TO the
Bolton refuge sounded weak and mean
to him nCw-and TO Grantley too, who
had been used to rely on them, lightly
accepting them with a man Of the
worlds easy philosophy His friends
had almost encouraged Tom in his
treacherous desertion of his children;
they too had looked at nothing but the
merits Of his quarrel with Harriet.
The San Francisco call., 1904-12-11
OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES oeoeeooe000e0eoooo0o0

putting that by itself in a false isola-
tion from the total life of the family.
of which it was in truth an integral
indivisibIe part. So Grantley meditated
as he listened to Toms laments; ana
the meditation was not without mean
ing and life for him also.
Tom had a request to make of him
that he would go round to the house
and spend the evening there.
II daren't trust myself near Harriet
he said. and I'm uneasy with only
the servants there. They're all afraid
of her. She was cowed, Suzette says,
while there was danger; but she may
break out again-anything might start
her again. If you could stay till she's
safely III bed"
III stay all night, if necessary, old
fellow" said Grantley promptly.
It'll take a weight off my mind
and I've got about enough to bear. I'm
going to stay here, of course; so you'll
know where to find me if I'm wanted,
though 1 don't see what can happen
now"
Terror brooded over the Courtlands'
house. Grantley rejoiced to see how
his coming did something to lift the
cloud. The two children left Suzette's
side ,(they loved her, but she seemed
to them q defense all too fraiD, and
came to him, standing on either side
of his knee and putting their hands in
his. The listening strained look passed
out of their eyes as he talked to them.
Presently little Vera climbed up and
nestled en- his knee, while Lucy leant
against his shoulder, and he got them
to prattle about happy things, old hOli
days and bygone treats to which Tom
had taken them. At last Lucy laughed
merrily at some childish memory. The
sound went straight to Grantley's
heart: a great tenderness came upon
him. AS he kissed them, his thoughts
flew to his own little son-the child who
had now begun to know love, to greet
it and to ask for it. How these poor
children priced even a decent kindnessI
Grantley seemed to himself to have
done a fine days work-as fine days
work as he had ever done in his life
when he sent them off to bed with
smiling lips and eyes relieved Of dread.
You won't go away tonight, will
you?" Lucy whispered as she kissed
him good night.
"Of course he's not going!" cried lit
tie Vera, bravely confident in the
strength of her helplessness.
mo. I'll stay all night-all the whole
night" Grantley promised.
He made his camp in the library on
the ground floor, and there presently
Suzette Bifgh came to see him. She
gave a good account of the wounded
child Sophy slept; the capable CHEEKY
woman who had come as nurse gave
her courage to sleep.
1--WE must get her away to the seaside
as soon as possible, and she'll get all
right, think; though there must be a
mark always. And of course the per-
The San Francisco call., 1904-12-11

manent question remains Isn't it all
hopeless. Mr.. ImasOn?"
It's a terrible business for you 10
be involved in
"Oh, can only thank heaven 1 was
here. But for me 1 believe she'd have
killed the child.
What state is she in now?"
Il really don't know. She won't
speak to me. She sits quite still. just
but it's too dreadful. I can't help hat
ing her-and 1 think she knows it."
Grantley had some experience of COM
ing TO know what people feel about
him.
Il expect she does" he nodded
What. will happen, Mr.. ImasOn ,"
u don't know-except that the chill
afraid of being prosecuted, do you
think?"
she hasn't said anything about it,
No, she doesn't seem afraid; 1 don't
think that's her feeling But-but her
eyes look awful When L had TO tell her
that the doctor had forbidden her to
come near the children, and said
he would send the police into the house
if she tried to go to them-well. I've
never seen such an expression on any
human face before. She looked like
like somebody in hell, Mr.. ImasOn."
'Ah!" groaned Grantley with a jerk
of his head. as though he turned from
a fearful spectacle.
I've just been with her. persuaded
her TO go TO bed-she's not slept since
it happened. 1 knOw-and got her to let
me help her to undress- Her maid
won't so TO her, she's too frightened. l
hope she'll go to sleep, or really think
she'll lose her senses" She paused and
then asked: viii this make any differ
ence in-in the Droceedings?"
We'll, it gives Tom something to bar
gain with, doesn't it? But you can't
tell with her. The ordinary motives
may not appeal TO her. any more than
the natural feelings. 1 hope it may be
possible TO frighten her"
Anyhow, the children won't have to
stay? You're sure of that?"
We must try hard for that" said
GrantIey.
But Tom had made even that more
difficult because he had considered only
his own quarrel. and not thinking Of
the children had run away to refuge
with Mrs. Bolton. saving his own skin
by treacherous flight.
Suzette bade Grantley goodnight
She, too. must sleep or her strength
would fail.
You'll keep the door open?' she
asked And her room is just over this.
You'll hear if she moves, though I don't I
think she will. 1t is good of you, Mr..
Imason We shall all sleep quietly to-
night Oh, but how tired you'll be!'
Not l." he smiled. I've often sat up
till daylight on less worthy occasions.
You're the hero! You've come through
this finely"
The San Francisco call., 1904-12-11

ure Of courage. Blake might blarney
as ne would about awakened conscience,
but Caylesham had put his finger on
the sore spot. Pleasures potentiality
or tragedy had asserted itself. 1t had
bten supremely discCncerting to dis
cover and recognize its existence.
Horng Blake was for morality now
not so much because it's eyes were
turned upward as for the blameieSs
security Of its embrace. He had. suf-
fered such a scare. He really wondered
how Caylesham had managed TO stand
the strain of pleasing himself-with
the sudden tragic pOtentialities of it,.
He paid unwilling homage 10 the quail
ities necessary for vice-fcr candid un-
masquerading vice; he knew all about
the other species.
Yet he was not hard on Sibylla. He
recognized her temperament, her un-
hap" circumstances, and his own per-
soral attractions. What he did not
recognize was the impression of him
self which that night in the Sailors
Rest might leave on her. He copceived
an idea of his own magnanimity rest
Ing in her mind-yes. though such a
notion could gain no comfortable foot
ing in his.
Caylesham let him go without more
advice-though he had half a mind TO
tell him not to marry pretty woman.
won't; and il would do him lots of
good if he did" the impenitent, clear
sighted, good-humored sinner reflected,
with all the meaning which Eis expert
ence could put into the words. He was
Of opinion that for certain people the
only chance of salvation lay in suffer
ing gross injustice. IF what a fellow
brings on himself is justice" he used TO
say. He always maintained that fel-
lows brought il on themselVes-an eX-
piring gasp Of conscience, perhaps.
Gossip and conjecture had played so
much with Walter Blake's name that
Mrs. Selford had at first been shy of
his approaches and chary Of her well
come. We must think Of Anna" she
had said to her husband. But think
ing Of or for Anna was rapidly becOm-
ing superfiuous. The young woman
took that department to herself. Her
ostylishness grew marveloVsly, and inn
posed a yoke of admiring submission.
1t was an extraordinary change from
the awkward. dOwdy, suppressed girl TO
this excellently appointed product. The
liberty so tardily conceded was making
up for lost time, and bade fair to trans
form itself into a tyranny. The parents
We're ready subjects, and cast back
from the theories of to-day a deluSive
light on the practices of the past. They
concluded that they had always in
dulged Anna, and that the result was
most satisfactory. Then they must in
dulge her still So Blake's visits went
on. and the welcome became cordial.
For Anna was quite clear that she at
least had nothing against Blake His
attraction for her was not what had
been his charm in Sibylla's eyes. Her
The San Francisco call., 1904-12-11

impulse W not to reform. il was TO
conquer. But gossip and conjecture as
10 his past life were as good incentives
70 the one task as TO the other. HIS
good looks, his air of fashion, ms
comfortable means, helped the work.
He widened the horizon OF men
for her, and made her out OF
cOnceit with her first achievements
She was content that Jeremy should
disappear from her court; she became
contemptuously impatient of Alec
Turner's suit She was fasudIous and
worldly wise.
Again Mrs. SeIford rejoiced. She
had been in some CONSERVATION over
Alec Turner's now obvious attachment,
coming just at the time when Anna
had established the right to please
herself. Suppose her first use OF lib
erty had been to throw herself away? =?
For to what end be stylish IL you are
going to marry on fl5o a year? But
Anna was quite safe-strangely safe,
Mrs. Selford thought in her heart,
though she rebuked the wonder. AL
most unkindly safe, she thought some
times, as she strove TO soften the blows
which fell on poor Alec-since. so soon
as he ceased to be dangerous, he be-
came an object Of compassion"
Anna is so sensible" she said to
Selford. She's quite free from the
Stiffness that girls so often show" but
she sighed just a little as she spoke.
shed make a good wife for any
man" declared Selford proudly
general declaration in fat contradic-
ton to Caylesham's theories about
double harness.
Anna paid mo heed to opinions or
comments. She went about her bust
ness and managed it with instructive
skill. It sometimes puzzled poor Alec
Turner to think why his presence was
SC often requested, when his arrival
evoked so little enthusiasm. He did
not realize the part he played in Anna s
scheme nor how his visits were to ap-
near 10 Walter Blake. Annals general
ship had thought all this out. The ex-
hfbition of Alec was q subsidiary move
in the great strategic conception of
capturing Walter Blake on the re-
bound from Sibylla.
But the pawn was not dGcile, and
obie ted violently so soon as its func-
ton began to be apparent. Anna pre-
cipitated what she did not desire-a
passionate avowal in which the theme
Of her own gifts and fascination was
intermingled with the ideal of infuenc-
ing '--e trend Of public opinion from a
modest home and on a modest income.
She was told that she could be removed
from the vanities of life and be her
true, her highest self. When she
showed no inclination to accept the op-
pcrtunity thus indicated, Alec passed
through incredulity to anger. Had he
cast his pearls before-well, at inappre-
ciative feet? At this tone Anna became
excusably huffy; to refuse a young
man is not TO deny all the higher moral
obligations. Besides Alec annoyed her
The San Francisco call., 1904-12-11
ANNOUNCEMENT.

California Western writers
weekly
in cash. each for the
prolific gifted give spirit the
Therefore
submitted each by West
will
rule be and especially
careful consideration
will be Judged strictly its literary merit Type
consider
from the editor but do hesitate send story in hand
xzritn afford have
than and
leading
the rarely than
often and generally
publication of his before
he usually
iudPng
The San Francisco call., 1904-12-11
CHAPTER XIII.
A Thing of Fear

Grantley Imason had intended to go
down to Milldean that same evening.
but a summons from Tom Courtland
reached him, couched in such terms
that he could not hesitate to obey it.
He sought Tom at his club the moment
he received the message. Tom had
been sent for to his own house in the
morning, and had heard what had
happened there. He had seen the
The San Francisco call., 1904-12-11
RULES.

RULES.
more
length The length of
plain figures.
In the selection The
writer will have the standing author.
S to
of Western
If
al
will be published each week
This will be inde6
An author submit
Always inclose postage No will be
unless accompanied by postage
o.
an SUNDAY EDITOR
SAN FRANCISCO. CAL
The San Francisco call., 1904-12-11

Suzette's cheeks flushed at this praise.
I do love the poor children" she
said, as Grantley pressed her hand.
He sat down to his vigil.
[COntinued Next Sunday.J
The Bellefontaine Republican. [volume] (Bellefontaine, Logan County, Ohio) 1855-1905, 1904-04-26
A SOCIETY OF ANARCHISTS.
syrians In This Country are Said to
Have Formed One.

Pittsburg. April 23.-Attorney N. A.
Shibley, of New York. made a start
ling statement Friday in the Central
police station, where eight Syrians
who had been arrested for riot were
being tried Mr.. Shibley asked for a
postponement of the hearing. but this
was refused. He then stated that an
anarchist society under the guise of
a benevolent society had been or
ganized here and that they had put
their priest, Rev. korkemas, in Jail.
Many of their countrymen of good
character. he said, were forced to fee
from New York because they were
opposed to the society. and members
of the organization had threatened to
torture the wives and mothers of
their enemies in true oriental fashion.
Mr.. Shibley said that he had about a
dozen witnesses to show before the
proper tribunal that this was true.
The men were ordered to forfeit SIS,
or to serve 20 days in Jail.
The Bellefontaine Republican. [volume] (Bellefontaine, Logan County, Ohio) 1855-1905, 1904-04-26
AssAILEo ROOSEVELT.
A North Carolina Congressman De.
llvers a Sensational Speech-Gen
Grosvenor Replies.

A North Carolina Congressman De-
livers a Sensational Speech-Gen.
Grosvenor Replies.
Washington. April 23.-Late yes
terday President Roosevelt was as
sailed by Mr.. Claude kitckin, of
North Carolina, who included in his
castigation Gen. Grosvenor, whom he
charged with having humiliated The
odore Roosevelt, the vice presidential
candidate, whom in a recent speech
in the house he had glorified as the
worthy successor of Mckinley.
Kitchin likened President Roose-
velt in this connection to the ant hill
taking the place of the mountain, the
owls screech taking the place of the
tomb's symphonies, and to the min
now taking the place of the whale
He declared that the president had
insulted the people OF the south by
saying in one of his publications that
throughout southern character there
ran a streak of brutal barbarism. He
charged the president with being the
advocate Of lynch law and quoted
from one of the presidents books tC
sustain his assertion
Gen. Grosvenor admitted that fouI
years ago he opposed the nomination
of Mr.. Roosevelt for vice president
but said Mr.. Roosevelt during the
campaign had conducted himself in a
dignified manner and had won the
esteem of the people by his acts from
tn time he was elected to preside
over the senate. and that he reached
the supreme heights when he declar.
ed at Buffalo that he would carry out
the policies of Mckinley. Since ther
the president had grown to be one oi
the great men of the country.
Senate-The general deficiency ap
preparation bill occupied the majol
portion of the senate's time. but be
| fore it was taken up Mr.. Gallingel
spoke at length on the tariff policy ol
the reDublican party