Atlanta semi-weekly journal. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1898-1920, 1912-06-11

table
MademoiselIe. the companion, Of
Monsieur Jesen. had had enough of
this II was her weekly holiday. She
yayned and tapped her friends upon
| the arm.
Ny dear Paul." she protested.
while you and Herr Freudenberg talk
as two men who have immense af-
fairs Marguerite and 1 we weary our
selves II / am to be alone like this,
very good I speak to my friends.
There is Monsieur de Chaussin there.
He throws me a kiss. Do you wish
that I sit with him? He looks, indeed,
as though he had plenty to say! Or
there is the melancholy Italian gentle
man. VINO raises his glass always when
look. And the two Americans"
You have reason. little one" Mon
sieur Jesen interrupted. Herr Freu-
denberg. this is no place for such a
discussion.
Agreed Herr Freudenberg ex-
claimed. we owe our apologies to
mademoiselle. your charming friend
and mademOiselle, my adored compan-
ion" he added, turning to Marguerite
Come, let us drink more wine. Let
US talk together. What is your pleas
ure mademoiselle. the friend Of my
good friend, Monsieur Jesen? VIII you
have them dance to US? Is there mu-
sic to which you would listen? Or
shall we pray Marguerite here that she
sings? Let US, at any rate, be gay.
And for the rest. Monsieur Jesen, time
has no count for US who live our lives.
When We leave here, you and will
talk more"
1t was daylight before they left. The
whole party got into Herr Freuden-
berg's motor.
Il drive you first to your rooms,
Monsieur Jesen," he said. Il take then
the liberty Of entering with you. The
little conversation which we have be-
gun is best concluded within the shell
ter OF four walls"
Monsieur Jesen was excited. yet nerv-
Gus.
1T is too late" he muttered. ito
talk business"
Herr Freudenberg smiled
"Ah!" he cried, you Jest, my friend.
Look out Of that window. You see the
sunshine in the streets, you breathe the
fresh, clear air? Too late. indeed! 1t
is morning, and the brain is keenest
then Don't you feel the fumes of the
hot rooms. of the wine. of the tobacco
smoke, all pass away with the touch Of
that soft wind?"
Monsieur Jesen stared. He was con-
scious of a very bad headache, and
uncomfortable sense that he had, as
usual on his weekly holiday, eaten and
drunk and smoked a great deal more
than was good for him. He gazed with
wonder at this tall, spare-looking man,
who had drunk as much and smoked
as much and eaten as much as any one
else, and yet appeared exactly as he had
done four hours ago. Even his linen
was still spotless. HIS eyes were
bright his manner buoyant.
marvellous. I have never before met a
German merchant like you"
Herr Freudenberg sat quite still for
a moment. He looked at mademoiselle,
the friend of Monsieur Jesen, and he
realized that theirs was no casual &C
quaintance. In both he recognized the
characteristics of fidelity. AS he had al
ways the genius to do, he took his
risks.
Monsieur Jesen," he announced, II
am no German maker of toys. Let me
shall hear who / am and why 1 have
said these things to you"
Monsieur Jesen held his hand to his
head Something in the manner of this
new friend Of his was, in a sense. mes
meric.
You shall ascend, monsieur" he said.
II do not know who you are, but you
are evidently a very powerful person.
We will ascend and you shall wait
while 1 place my head in cold water
and Susanne mixes me some absinthe
Then will listen"
The automobile came to a standstill
about halfway down a shabby street
in a somewhat shabby neighborhood.
Herr Freudenberg noticed this fact
without change of countenance, but
with secret pleasure He turned to
Marguerite.
Dear Marguerite" he whispered,
for an hour or so 1 must leave you.
You will permit that my man takes
you to your apartments and returns
for me here?'
May not wait for you here in the
automObile?" she asked, timidly.
Herr Freudenberg shook his head
kindly.
Dear little one" he murmured, mot
this morning. Indeed, 1 have impor-
tant affairs on hand. AS soon as 1 am
free will telephone. Sleep well. little
girl"
He stepped out on the pavement. The
postern door in front of them was
opened, in response to Monsieur Jesens
vigorous knocking, from some invisible
place by a string. The three of them
climbed four flights of rickety stairs
They reached at last a stone landing.
Monsieur Jesen threw open a door and
led the way into an untidy-looking sa-
Ion.
Monsieur viii forgive the fact" he
begged, that I am not better housed.
II IL were not for little Susanne here"
he added. patting her upon the shoulder.
Il doubt whether I should keep a roof
above my head at all"
1T is not like this" Herr Freuden-
berg declared, that genius should be
treated"
Indeed" Monsieur Susanne in
tervened. sit is what tell him always.
Monsieur, they pay him but beggarly
three hundred francs a month-he who
writes all the editorials: he who is
the spirit of the papers! 1t is not fair.
tell dear Paul that IT is wicked, and,
as he says, the money. If it were not
for me. he would squander IL in a min
ute. 1 have even to go with him to
the Office. for there are many who know
when Paul draws his little oheque."
Herr Freudenberg set down his hat
upon the table. He looked around at
all the evidences of unclean and sordid
life. Then he looked at the man. II
was a queer housing. this. for genius!
His face remained expressionless. OF
the disgust he felt he showed no sign.
In the building of horses one must use
many tools.
Monsieur Jesen." he said. "and mad
emoiselle-I speak TO you both, for I
recoguYze that between Won there is in