The Detroit times., 1914-02-27

"e iOunO ner regarding him With dull
curious eyes. a. II he were . stranger,
and she could not understand his pres.
cnce there.
What . lot Of trouble you've made.
Porter" she said. what . lot OF
trouble for every ons-for that poor
Clayton Girl, and for yourself. and
for me. and for dear old dad. Ne vas
20 happy last night--just like kid"
\ suppose." Fielding said, II had
better speak to him now--at once"
| hut blanche shook her head.
NO. Porter. I'd rather do that my
SELF. Wsre such pals. dad and I.
think. perhaps, could make him
understand. or-or guess ri tell him
It was my fault. and that had
changed my mind. That will make
things better for you'll mean better
for you. at the ONCE"
| Thank you." Fielding said ITS
just like you, Blanche, to think Of me
and my future when oil I deserve IL
to be ordered out Of your house"
| "Oh, you mustn't talk like that, Por.
ter" she said. 1T was much better
for you to be honest -much better.
Good night
I sho held out q cold nerveless hand,
and he took It limply In his own.
And sometime" she went on In the
same even voice, some OF these days,
| you will come to Sc 10 again, won't
(, you! I'll write you when to come.
Good night again"
Thank you." he said, you've been.
very kind--kinder. I know, than any
one has ever been to me before,
Without looking ct the girls face
again, he dropped her hand. And
with the knowledge that he Wa ioav.
ing the wreck nf every hope ana cf
every ambitlon Of his youth hAhind
him, be went slowly out OF the room.
When he had reached the pavement
Thin fo0tsteps turned mechanically to.
ward his own home. II was just past
Ia o'clock and the avenue was filled
with automobiles, and taxicabs, and
carriages taking people to dinner. He
looked at the smiling faces and the
Iprctty light-col0re0 dresses of the wo-
men and wondered that he felt NO
resentment or envy Of any kind. In
4s-d axed aoIf If WAY hA realized that.
after al. the fault had all been his.
There was no one on whom he could
lshift the blame Of his tragedy even
had he wished TO do 20: everything
that this world could give had been
granted him, and he Had thrown Il
away. And then, OF q sudden, he dis.
covered that he had unconsciously
lquickened his steps and that HE one
great desire was to get back 70 his
own rooms. He wanted to be alone,
land, alone, to try and ind out how
some new structure could be reared
from the chaos to which he had raxed
Ibis own life
Once at home he lighted his pipe
land poured himself out glass OF
Scotch. The drink would make him
think the better, he argued, and now
was the moment for him to think and
N act quickly. He lighted the IRE.
land for long time sat gasing duly
lot the burning logs and wondering
why HE brain refused to act or failed
to act, or failed 70 grasp the extreme
well enough for Blanche TO tell hes
father that Il was she who had erred
but how was no to be sure that her
father would believe her, or that In
case he questioned her, she would not
break down and sob out the whole
miserable truth. He Alled his glass
10 wss greatly SURPRISED to fnd thai
he lacked the effort or the desire "a
freight Il. The long hard day end The
endless nervous strain hAd beGun q
Itch on him at last, snd just - b.
/ lhsd onished his Second glass 0i
Scotch, he fell into . heavy fevsrist
sleep.
II cNApT9N XII.
II Il was thres hours later when FiG36
! ling nwoke, and g1ancins Ut the clock
| found that II WAS . quarter to eleven
] lFor some time he sat onsing duly q
. 1.-The emberu on the hearth, wondefinl
; Ihow long Il he'd been since he he<
lfhlloo os1eep and trying to bring oros]
J 'sut g bic eonfsssd thquehts. Al