Evening times-Republican. [volume] (Marshalltown, Iowa) 1890-1923, 1920-08-14
The Gift
Supreme
By
George Allan England
Author Of
Darkness and Dawn"
THE Alibi," etc.
CHAPTER III.

his tread, past the huge tower o. the
custom house that pointed toward
the chill January stars, and so came
to n region he knew well-the heart
of BoSton's money district.
The sight of the exchange some
what relieved his wondering mind.
His fathers offices were there; he
felt himself once more almost at
home. The influence of the mission
singer now seemed a little less po-
tent, as he breathed again the air of
a section where money ruled, and
where some tides of life still flowed,
even at this late hour.
A curious kind of half-resentment,
even, began to develop in his mind.
The girl had-rnwittinGly. perhaps,
but none the less effectively-eIn-
barrassed him a good deal, upset the
poise on which he prided himself
and disturbed the tranquil currents
of his blood. And Vinton blood was
by no means to he lightly agitated
Less by what she had said than by
her attitude she had abashed and
almost humbled him. Why, she had
really treated him as an equal! Vim
ton scowled a bit, and took a quick
er stride.
He skirted the ancient state house
crossed Washington street and head
ed homeward up Court street. Yes,
he now recognized the truth that he
resented her manner. The little fact
that she had not looked at his card,
that she had shown no curiosity re-
garding him, and had given him no
opportunity to impress her with his
name that had for many generations
been an open sesame to every worth h.
while door in BostOn-gallod the
man. Yet he realized the unWorthi-
ness OF any such thought, and reso-
lutely put it from him as he kept
on and on thru Scollay Square, up
PembertOn street and so into Beacon
BY the time he was half way down
the western slope of Beacon Hill, the
singers personality had begun to
seem rather vague. He strove to put
her from his mind, and after Il fash
| ion succeeded. Before his latch key
turned in the lock of his fathers
oaken door, he had begun to wonder
whether after all, he had not played
the part of indiscretion in having
forced from this daughter of the
people the promise of a meeting on
the morrow.
Quietly he let himself in and went
up to his own rooms on the third
floor of the big house. Nobody was
stirring. Vinton felt relieved. He
had feared that his father-keen.
critical, quisitive-might be up,
might question him, might extort
some account OF the nights adven-
lures But no: both his father and
mother were asleep.
Ninton undressed took a shower
and rundown, and felt that he had
washed away any possible contamin-
alton of the SlumS. Then, clad in his
silk pajamaS, his bath robe and slip
pers, he brought chair under the
glow of his desk light, to smoke a
quiet pipe of Latakia and to write
up his notes of the evenings eX-
ploration.
For a while his gold mounted foun-
tain pen flowed smoothly along. jot-
ting down in sequence his impress
sions of the North End, the mission,
its habitues, the evangelist and--but
here his pen halted, remained poised
in air, and refused to write. Some
how or other it baked at spreading
a description of the girl on paper
Memories of her came crowding
fast. Vinton compared her with 9TH
er girls he knew-girls of his own
set, mostly college-bred, some of
them as familiar with Europe as
with America; girls who played
bridge, worked for suffrage, went to
Palm Beach in winter and to the
Thousand Islands in summer; girls
with whom he had danced, talked,
canoed, motored and played golf and
tennis; girls of various more or less
interesting types, yet all fundamen-
tally alike in their status and their
culture, and all so different from this
singer of the North End mission.
He sought to analyze the principal
distinction, yet got no further than
this-that the mission singer had
asked more questions than she had
answered, and that she had made
him feel uncomfortable. Vinton was
not used to being made unco,nfort-
able. He was used to being deferred
to and courted. He was good
"catch," and knew it. Not that this
had made him arrogant or unduly
puffed up; nevertheless, he quite
realized that he was a Vinton.
Quite obviously, Miss Alden had
not been at all impressed by his APP
pearance, or his speech, or his mani
fest air of opulence. On the con-
trary, she had rather put him on the
defensive, and had made him ex-
plain things. This was disconcert-
ing. She had not been overawed by
him, or flattered, or deferential: nei-
Their had she been bold or flippant.
She had been frank, open and nat
| ural
II wonder what her first name isl"
| he thought.
At random he tried several names
| Kate, Margaret, Helen, Betty.
None of them seemed harmonious
A singular curiosity to know her
name possessed him. He decided to
ask her tomorrow.
Yes, he had determined to see her
again. His tentative thought that he
would break the appointment had
quite vanished. No later than to-
morrow noon he would meet her, and
now he realized that he was anxious
for the time to come.
"The DEVIL" he calculated angrily
I'm making a fool Of myself"
He stood up, stretched, yawned
and glanced at the clock. Nearly I
in the morning! Time had sped sc
swiftly, in his ponderings, that he
had taken no heed of its passage
Annoyed. he went to bed: but the
| clock struck the half hour hefnre he