The citizen. (Honesdale, Pa.) 1908-1914, 1910-11-09

I
/ ment to moment was held to .,
/ termined standard II calmurSs l.
| unreStinS hcrusm, and when II
| mcmbcred that she had come to ..
| sad state through the mere exc.
| of helpful kindness his soul crieu
! against the government of the jl
| verse. She was cousin to Cm,
| wife: she had gone to that hOus
! affliction because she was nc,o.'
| there and for no other reason.
Celia sat in his office all the re-, %
J the day. At half past 3, when Bart.
went aboard the sound steamer Wi,
all his worries on his back and h
pale, silent girl for sole companion j..
was conscious of n depression of Spir
! its such as he had never felt before
! They had some dinner by and Ly,
and perhaps the food was good fn
Bartlett. At any rate, in the cuuls'
of the meal he was vouchsafed rove.
lation. He perceived that Celia's pr
ence was not depressing; he had baen
laboring under a preconceived idea az
what her effect upon him ought to be,
in view of her condition, and this
false notion had completely foOl,u
him. In reality she had not uttered a
complaint all day. She had express
ed no respondent view, but had gen
tly striven TO dispel the gloom between
| them, all of which had emanated from
| himself.
Upon my word" said he, lookin.,
across at her, ''you are a very cheerfui
| young woman"
"In comparison with whomT
Myself
She nodded her head and smiled at
him.
81 am a good deal worried" said he.
This business of mine in Boston sits
on me like an incubus-whatever that
is"
II am sorry" said she.
Perhaps he had looked for a little
curiosity, and perhaps the china blue
eyes read this in his face, for she tact
fully asked Il leading question, and he
told his story. There were few peo-
pie in the world with whom he would
have spoken as frankly.
"The trouble is" said he in conclu-
sion, that l dare not go directly to
the president of the bank. He's tar
tar, and this particular kind of re
newal is his pet aversion. But if
can have the matter put up to him in
just the right light by friend of
mine (and ii pet of his) inside the
bank the thing will go through. l don't
want Boland even to know that came
over to Boston to see anybody in the
bank. l wouldn't have him know il
for thousand dollars"
MI Boland is the presidentT'
Yes"
Suppose you should meet him on the
street." she suggested.
Il should dodge into the nearest open
door," said he. IF he saw me in Bos
ton at this time he'd know what was
there for, and he doesn't like wirepull-
ing inside his bank"
Il don't like wirepulling anywhere
said Celia. Il think you should meet
Mr.. Boland deliberately"
Not for gold and precious stones
81 have a feeling that you WILL" she
insisted, land | don't like the idea
that you're afraid of him."
Il don't like it myself" said he, but
| am"
Then you'll surely meet him. new
er dare to be afraid of anything for
fear that it will happen"
Il admit there's something in il" said
he.
Celia retired to her Stateroom early,
and Bartlett went down to the main
deck, where in the girls absence he
relapsed into gloom and consoled him
self with strong cigars.
A streaky fog lay on the sound. In
the thicker places the steamer would
slow down as if bewildered, and her
whistle would exchange impatient
blasts of nautical conversation with
other whistles. A human irritation
seemed to animate these tones.
Bartlett thought of Celia lying
awake and listening to the mournful
and alarming chorus. Tenderness
came to his heart. He regretted that
he had not been kinder to her; that he
had not spoken cheerier worus at their
parting.
"All the human sense and goodness
have gone out of me-" he growled. Il
am the wreck of what l was"
1t was past IL when he went to his
staterOom, and he sat for a long time
on the edge of his berth, thinking
despOndently of the morrow. The whis-
tie was now doing its worst, and the
answers were more petulent. He dis.
tinguished one voice among them that
seemed angrier than the others, and ii
drew constantly nearer. Then for an
interval he missed that voice. Silence
reigned for perhaps no more than a
minute, but it seemed much longer
Bartlett rose to his feet-he knew not
why.
In the depths of the vessel he heard
a bell strike once. The vibration OF
the fabric ceased. The engine was al
rest. Suddenly, close at hand, the
whistle that he had listened for called