text: Edward  Payson Roe A KNIGHT OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 
   
   
   Preface 
   He Best Deserves A Knightly Crest, 
     Who Slays The Evils That Infest 
     His Soul Within. If Victor Here, 
     He Soon Will Find A Wider Sphere. 
     The World Is Cold To Him Who Pleads; 
     The World Bows Low To Knightly Deeds. 
     
     
     
   Cornwall On The Hudson, N.Y. 
   
   
   
   Contents 
   Chapter I 
   Bad Training For A Knight 
     
     
     
   Chapter Ii 
   Both Apologize 
     
     
     
   Chapter Iii 
   Chained to An Iceberg 
     
     
     
   Chapter Iv 
   Immature 
     
     
     
   Chapter V 
   Passion'S Clamor 
     
     
     
   Chapter Vi 
   "Gloomy Grandeur" 
     
     
     
   Chapter Vii 
   Birds Of Prey 
     
     
     
   Chapter Viii 
   Their Victim 
     
     
     
   Chapter Ix 
   Pat And The Press 
     
     
     
   Chapter X 
   Returning Consciousness 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xi 
   Haldane Is Arrested 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xii 
   A Memorable Meeting 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xiii 
   Our Knight In jail 
   
   
   
   Contents 
   Chapter Xiv 
   Mr. Arnot'S System Works Badly 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xv 
   Haldane'S Resolve 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xvi 
   The Impulses Of Wounded pride 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xvii 
   At Odds With The World 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xviii 
   The World'S Verdict--Our Knight A Criminal 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xix 
   The World'S Best Offer--A Prison 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xx 
   Maiden And Wood-Sawyer 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xxi 
   Magnanimous Mr. Shrumpf 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xxii 
   A Man Who Hated himself 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xxiii 
   Mr. Growther Becomes Gigantic 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xxiv 
   How Public Opinion Is Often Made 
   
   
   
   Contents 
   Chapter Xxv 
   A Paper Poniard 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xxvi 
   A Sorry Knight 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xxvii 
   God Sent His Angel 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xxviii 
   Facing The Consequences 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xxix 
   How Evil Isolates 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xxx 
   Ideal Knighthood 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xxxi 
   The Low Starting-Point 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xxxii 
   A Sacred refrigerator 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xxxiii 
   A Doubtful Battle In prospect 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xxxiv 
   A Foot-Hold 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xxxv 
   That Sermon Was A Bomb-Shell 
     
   
   
   
   Contents 
   Chapter Xxxvi 
   Mr. Growther Feeds An Ancient Grudge 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xxxvii 
   Hoping For A Miracle 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xxxviii 
   The Miracle Takes Place 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xxxix 
   Votaries Of The World 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xl 
   Human Nature 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xli 
   Mrs. Arnot'S Creed 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xlii 
   The Lever That Moves The World 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xliii 
   Mr. Growther "Stumped" 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xliv 
   Growth 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xlv 
   Laura Romeyn 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xlvi 
   Misjudged 
   
   
   
   Contents 
   Chapter Xlvii 
   Laura Chooses Her Knight 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xlviii 
   Mrs. Arnot'S Knight 
     
     
     
   Chapter Xlix 
   A Knightly Deed 
     
     
     
   Chapter L 
   "O Dreaded death!" 
     
     
     
   Chapter Li 
   "O Priceless Life!" 
     
     
     
   Chapter Lii 
   A Man Versus A Connoisseur 
     
     
     
   Chapter Liii 
   Exit Of Laura'S First Knight 
     
     
     
   Chapter Liv 
   Another Knight Appears 
     
     
   
   
   
   Chapter I (Bad Training For A Knight) 
   Egbert Haldane Had An Enemy Who Loved him Very Dearly, And He Sincerely 
   Returned her Affection, As He Was In duty Bound, Since She Was His 
   Mother. If, Inspired by Hate And Malice, Mrs. Haldane Had Brooded over 
   But One Question At The Cradle Of Her Child, How Can I Most Surely 
   Destroy This Boy? She Could Scarcely Have Set About The Task More 
   Skilfully And Successfully. 
     
     
     
   But So Far From Having any Such Malign And Unnatural Intention, Mrs. 
   Haldane Idolized her Son. To Make The Paradox More Striking, She Was 
   Actually Seeking To Give Him A Christian Training and Character. As He 
   Leaned against Her Knee Bible Tales Were Told Him, Not Merely For The 
   Sake Of The Marvellous Interest Which They Ever Have For Children, But 
   In The Hope, Also, That The Moral They Carry With Them Might Remain As 
   Germinating Seed. At An Early Age The Mother Had Commenced taking Him To 
   Church, And Often Gave Him An Admonitory Nudge As His Restless Eyes 
   Wandered from The Venerable Face In the Pulpit. In brief, The Apparent 
   Influences Of His Early Life Were Similar To Those Existing In 
   Multitudes Of Christian Homes. On General Principles, It Might Be Hoped 
   That The Boy'S Future Would Be All That His Friends Could Desire; Nor 
   Did He Himself In early Youth Promise So Badly To Superficial Observers; 
   And The Son Of The Wealthy Mrs. Haldane Was, On The Part Of The World, 
   More The Object Of Envy Than Of Censure. But A Close Observer, Who 
   Judged of Characteristic Tendencies And Their Results By The Light Of 
   Experience, Might Justly Fear That The Mother Had Unwittingly Done Her 
   Child Irreparable Wrong. 
     
     
     
   She Had Made Him A Tyrant And A Relentless Task-Master Even In his 
   Infancy. As His Baby-Will Developed he Found It Supreme. His Nurse Was 
   Obliged to Be A Slave Who Must Patiently Humor Every Whim. He Was Petted 
   And Coaxed out Of His Frequent Fits Of Passion, And Beguiled from His 
   Obstinate And Sulky Moods By Bribes. He Was The Eldest Child And Only 
   Son, And His Little Sisters Were Taught To Yield To Him, Right Or Wrong, 
   He Lording It Over Them With The Capricious Lawlessness Of An Eastern 
   Despot. Chivalric Deference To Woman, And A Disposition To Protect And 
   Honor Her, Is A Necessary Element Of A Manly Character In our Western 
   Civilization; But Young Haldane Was As Truly An Oriental As If He Had 
   Been Permitted to Bluster Around A Turkish Harem; And Those Whom He 
   Should Have Learned to Wait Upon With Delicacy And Tact Became 
   Subservient To His Varying Moods, Developing That Essential Brutality 
   Which Mars The Nature Of Every Man Who Looks Upon Woman As An Inferior 
   And A Servant. He Loved his Mother, But He Did Not Reverence And Honor 
   Her. The Thought Ever Uppermost In his Mind Was, "What Ought She To Do 
   For Me?" Not, "What Ought I To Do For Her?" And Any Effort To Curb Or 
   Guide On Her Part Was Met And Thwarted by Passionate Or Obstinate 
   Opposition From Him. He Loved his Sisters After A Fashion, Because They 
   Were His Sisters; But So Far From Learning To Think Of Them As Those 
   Whom It Would Be His Natural Task To Cherish And Protect, They Were, In 
   His Estimation, "Nothing But Girls," And Of No Account Whatever Where 
   His Interests Were Concerned. 
     
     
     
   In The Most Receptive Period Of Life The Poison Of Selfishness And 
   Self-Love Was Steadily Instilled into His Nature. Before He Had Left The 
   Nursery He Had Formed the Habit Of Disregarding The Wills And Wishes Of 
   Others, Even When His Childish Conscience Told Him That He Was Decidedly 
   In The Wrong. When He Snatched his Sisters' Playthings They Cried in 
   Vain, And Found No Redress. The Mother Made Peace By Smoothing Over 
   Matters, And Promising The Little Girls Something Else. 
     
     
     
   Of Course, The Boy Sought To Carry Into His School Life The Same 
   Tendencies And Habits Which He Had Learned at Home, And He Ever Found A 
   Faithful Ally In his Blind, Fond Mother. She Took His Side Against His 
   Teachers; She Could Not Believe In his Oppressions Of His Younger 
   Playmates; She Was Absurdly Indignant And Resentful When Some Sturdy Boy 
   Stood Up For His Own Rights, Or Championed another'S, And Sent The 
   Incipient Bully Back To Her, Crying, And With A Bloody Nose. When The 
   Pampered youth Was A Little Indisposed, Or Imagined himself So, He Was 
   Coddled at Home, And Had Bonbons And Fairy Tales In the Place Of 
   Lessons. 
     
     
     
   Judicious Friends Shook Their Heads Ominously, And Some Even Ventured to 
   Counsel The Mother To A Wiser Course; But She Ever Resented such Advice. 
   The Son Was The Image Of His Lost Father, And Her One Impulse Was To 
   Lavish Upon Him Everything That His Heart Craved. 
     
     
     
   As If All This Were Not Enough, She Placed in the Boy'S Way Another 
   Snare, Which Seldom Fails Of Proving Fatal. He Had Only To Ask For Money 
   To Obtain It, No Knowledge Of Its Value Being Imparted to Him. Even When 
   He Took It From His Mother'S Drawer Without Asking, Her Chidings Were 
   Feeble And Irresolute. He Would Silence And Half Satisfy Her By Saying: 
     
     
     
   "You Can Take Anything Of Mine That You Want. It'S All In the Family; 
   What Difference Does It Make?" 
     
     
     
   Thus Every Avenue Of Temptation In the City Which Could Be Entered by 
   Money Was Open To Him, And He Was Not Slow In choosing Those Naturally 
   Attractive To A Boy. 
     
     
     
   But While His Mother Was Blind To The Evil Traits And Tendencies Which 
   She Was Fostering With Such Ominous Success, There Were Certain Overt 
   Acts Naturally Growing Out Of Her Indulgences Which Would Shock Her 
   Inexpressibly, And Evoke Even From Her The Strongest Expressions Of 
   Indignation And Rebuke. She Was Pre-Eminently Respectable, And Fond Of 
   Respect. She Was A Member "In Good And Regular Standing" Not Only Of Her 
   Church, But Also Of The Best Society In the Small Inland City Where She 
   Resided, And Few Greater Misfortunes In her Estimation Could Occur Than 
   To Lose This Status. She Never Hesitated to Humor Any Of Her Son'S Whims 
   And Wishes Which Did Not Threaten Their Respectability, But The 
   Quick-Witted boy Was Not Long In discovering That She Would Not Tolerate 
   Any Of Those Vices And Associations Which Society Condemns. 
     
     
     
   There Could Scarcely Have Been Any Other Result Save That Which 
   Followed. She Had Never Taught Him Self-Restraint; His Own Inclinations 
   Furnished the Laws Of His Action, And The Wish To Curb His Desires 
   Because They Were Wrong Scarcely Ever Crossed his Mind. To Avoid Trouble 
   With His Mother, Therefore, He Began Slyly And Secretly To Taste The 
   Forbidden Fruits Which Her Lavish Supplies Of Money Always Kept Within 
   His Reach. In this Manner That Most Hopeless And Vitiating Of Elements, 
   Deceitfulness, Entered into His Character. He Denied to His Mother, And 
   Sought To Conceal From Her, The Truth That While Still In his Teens He 
   Was Learning The Gambler'S Infatuation And Forming The Inebriate'S 
   Appetite. He Tried to Prevent Her From Knowing That Many Of His Most 
   Intimate Associates Were Such As He Would Not Introduce To Her Or To His 
   Sisters. 
     
     
     
   He Had Received, However, A Few Counter-Balancing advantages In his 
   Early Life. With All Her Weaknesses, His Mother Was A Lady, And Order, 
   Refinement, And Elegance Characterized his Home. Though Not A Gentleman 
   At Heart, On Approaching Manhood He Habitually Maintained the Outward 
   Bearing That Society Demands. The Report That He Was A Little Fast Was 
   More Than Neutralized by The Fact Of His Wealth. Indeed, Society 
   Concluded that It Had Much More Occasion To Smile Than To Frown Upon 
   Him, And His Increasing Fondness For Society And Its Approval In some 
   Degree Curbed his Tendencies To Dissipation. 
     
     
     
   It Might Also Prove To His Advantage That So Much Christian And Ethical 
   Truth Had Been Lodged in his Memory During Early Years. His Mother Had 
   Really Taken Pains To Acquaint Him With The Divine Man Who "Pleased not 
   Himself," Even While She Was Practically Teaching Him To Reverse This 
   Trait In his Own Character. Thus, While The Youth'S Heart Was Sadly 
   Erratic, His Head Was Tolerably Orthodox, And He Knew Theoreticaly The 
   Chief Principles Of Right Action. Though His Conscience Had Never Been 
   Truly Awakened, It Often Told Him That His Action Was Unmanly, To Say 
   The Least; And That Was As Far As Any Self-Censure Could Reach At This 
   Time. But It Might Prove A Fortunate Thing That Although Thorns And 
   Thistles Had Been Planted chiefly, Some Good Seed had Been Scattered 
   Also, And That He Had Received some Idea Of A Life The Reverse Of That 
   Which He Was Leading. 
     
     
     
   But Thus Far It Might Be Said With Almost Literal Truth, That Young 
   Haldane'S Acquaintance With Christian Ethics Had Had No More Practical 
   Effect Upon His Habitual Action And Thought Than His Knowledge Of 
   Algebra. When His Mother Permitted him To Snatch His Sisters' Playthings 
   And Keep Them, When She Took Him From The School Where He Had Received 
   Well-Merited punishment, When She Enslaved herself And Her Household To 
   Him Instead Of Teaching Considerate And Loyal Devotion To Her, She 
   Nullified all The Christian Instruction That She Or Any One Else Had 
   Given. 
     
     
     
   The Boy Had One Very Marked trait, Which Might Promise Well For The 
   Future, Or Otherwise, According To Circumstances, And That Was A Certain 
   Wilful Persistence, Which Often Degenerated into Downright Obstinacy. 
   Frequently, When His Mother Thought That She Had Coaxed or Wheedled him 
   Into Giving Up Something Of Which She Did Not Approve, He Would Quietly 
   Approach His Object In some Other Way, And Gain His Point, Or Sulk Till 
   He Did. When He Set His Heart Upon Anything He Was Not As "Unstable As 
   Water." While But An Indifferent And Superficial Student, Who Had 
   Habitually Escaped lessons And Skipped difficulties, He Occasionally 
   Became Nettled by A Perplexing Problem Or Task, And Would Work At It 
   With A Sort Of Vindictive, Unrelenting Earnestness, As If He Were 
   Subduing an Enemy. Having Put His Foot On The Obstacle, And Mastered the 
   Difficulty That Piqued him, He Would Cast The Book Aside, Indifferent To 
   The Study Or Science Of Which It Formed but A Small Fraction. 
     
     
     
   After All, Perhaps The Best That Could Be Said Of Him Was That He 
   Possessed fair Abilities, And Was Still Subject To The Good And Generous 
   Impulses Of Youth. His Traits And Tendencies Were, In the Main, All 
   Wrong; But He Had Not As Yet Become Confirmed and Hardened in them. 
   Contact With The World, Which Sooner Or Later Tells A Man The Truth 
   About Himself, However Unwelcome, Might Dissipate The Illusion, Gained 
   From His Mother'S Idolatry, That In some Indefinite Way He Was 
   Remarkable In himself, And That He Was Destined to Great Things From A 
   Vague And Innate Superiority, Which It Had Never Occurred to Him To 
   Analyze. 
     
     
     
   But As The Young Man Approached his Majority His Growing Habits Of 
   Dissipation Became So Pronounced that Even His Willingly Blind Mother 
   Was Compelled to Recognize Them. Rumor Of His Fast And Foolish Behavior 
   Took Such Definite Shape As To Penetrate The Widow'S Aristocratic 
   Retirement, And To Pass The Barriers Created by The Reserve Which She 
   Ever Maintained in regard To Personal And Family Matters. More Than Once 
   Her Son Came Home In a Condition So Nearly Resembling Intoxication That 
   She Was Compelled to Recognize The Cause, And She Was Greatly Shocked 
   And Alarmed. Again And Again She Said To Herself: 
     
     
     
   "I Cannot Understand How A Boy Brought Up In the Careful Christian 
   Manner That He Has Been Can Show Such Unnatural Depravity. It Is A Dark, 
   Mysterious Providence, To Which I Feel I Cannot Submit." 
     
     
     
   Though Young Haldane Was Aware Of His Mother'S Intolerance Of 
   Disreputable Vices And Follies, He Was Not Prepared for Her Strong And 
   Even Bitter Condemnation Of His Action. Having Never Been Taught To 
   Endure From Her Nor From Any One The Language Of Rebuke, He Retorted as 
   A Son Never Should Do In any Circumstances, And Stormy Scenes Followed. 
     
     
     
   Thus The Mother Was At Last Rudely Awakened to The Fact That Her Son Was 
   Not A Model Youth, And That Something Must Be Done Speedily, Or Else He 
   Might Go To Destruction, And In the Meantime Disgrace Both Himself And 
   Her--An Event Almost Equally To Be Dreaded. 
     
     
     
   In Her Distress And Perplexity She Summoned her Pastor, And Took Counsel 
   With Him. At Her Request The Venerable Man Readily Agreed to "Talk To" 
   The Wayward Subject, And Thought That His Folly And Its Consequences 
   Could Be Placed before The Young Man In such A Strong And Logical 
   Statement That It Would Convince Him At Once That He Must "Repent And 
   Walk In the Ways Of Righteousness." If Haldane'S Errors Had Been Those 
   Of Doctrine, Dr. Marks Would Have Been An Admirable Guide; But The 
   Trouble Was That, While The Good Doctor Was Familiar With All The 
   Readings Of Obscure Greek And Hebrew Texts, And All The Shades Of 
   Opinions Resulting, He Was Unacquainted with Even The Alphabet Of Human 
   Nature. In approaching "A Sinner," He Had One Formal And Unvarying 
   Method, And He Chose His Course Not From The Bearing Of The Subject 
   Himself, But From Certain General Theological Truths Which He Believed 
   Applied to The "Unrenewed heart Of Man As A Fallen Race." He Rather 
   Prided himself Upon Calling a Sinner A Sinner, And All Things Else By 
   Their Right Names; And Thus It Is Evident That He Often Had But Little 
   Of The Pauline Guile, Which Enabled the Great Apostle To Entangle The 
   Wayward Feet Of Jew, Greek And Roman, Bond And Free, In heavenly Snares. 
     
     
     
   The Youth Whom He Was To Convince And Convert By A Single Broadside Of 
   Truth, As It Were, Moved in such An Eccentric Orbit, That The Doctor 
   Could Never Bring His Heavy Artillery To Bear Upon Him. Neither Coaxing 
   Nor Scolding On The Part Of The Mother Could Bring about The Formal 
   Interview. At Last, However, It Was Secured by An Accident, And His 
   Mother Felt Thereafter, With A Certain Sense Of Consolation, That "All 
   Had Been Done That Could Be Done." 
     
     
     
   Entering The Parlor Unexpectedly One Afternoon, Haldane Stumbled 
   Directly Upon Dr. Marks, Who Opened fire At Once, By Saying: 
     
     
     
   "My Young Friend, This Is Quite Providential, As I Have Long Been 
   Wishing For An Interview. Please Be Seated, For I Have Certain Things To 
   Say Which Relate To Your Spiritual And Temporal Well-Being, Although The 
   Latter Is A Very Secondary Matter." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Was Too Well Bred to Break Rudely And Abruptly Away, And Yet It 
   Must Be Admitted that He Complied with Very Much The Feeling and Grace 
   With Which He Would Take A Dentist'S Chair. 
     
     
     
   "My Young Friend, If You Ever Wish To Be A Saint You Must First Have A 
   Profound Conviction That You Are A Sinner. I Hope That You Realize That 
   You Are A Sinner." 
     
     
     
   "I Am Quite Content To Be A Gentleman," Was The Brusque Reply. 
     
     
     
   "But As Long As You Remain An Impenitent Sinner You Can Never Be Even A 
   True Gentleman," Responded the Clergyman Somewhat Warmly. 
     
     
     
   Haldane Had Caught A Shocked and Warning Look From His Mother, And So 
   Did Not Reply. He Saw That He Was "In For It," As He Would Express 
   Himself, And Surmised that The Less He Said The Sooner The Ordeal Would 
   Be Over. He Therefore Took Refuge In a Silence That Was Both Sullen And 
   Resentful. He Was Too Young And Uncurbed to Maintain A Cold And 
   Impassive Face, And His Dark Eyes Occasionally Shot Vindictive Gleams At 
   Both His Mother And Her Ally, Who Had So Unexpectedly Caged him Against 
   His Will. Fortunately The Doctor Was Content, After He Had Got Under 
   Way, To Talk At, Instead Of To, His Listener, And Thus Was Saved the 
   Mortification Of Asking Questions Of One Who Would Not Have Answered. 
     
     
     
   After The Last Sonorous Period Had Been Rounded, The Youth Arose, Bowed 
   Stiffly, And Withdrew, But With A Heart Overflowing With A Malicious 
   Desire To Retaliate. At The Angle Of The House Stood The Clergyman'S 
   Steady-Going Mare, And His Low, Old-Fashioned buggy. It Was But The Work 
   Of A Moment To Slip Part Of The Shuck Of A Horse-Chestnut, With Its 
   Sharp Spines, Under The Collar, So That When The Traces Drew Upon It The 
   Spines Would Be Driven Into The Poor Beast'S Neck. Then, Going Down To 
   The Main Street Of The Town, Through Which He Knew The Doctor Must Pass 
   On His Way Home, He Took His Post Of Observation. 
     
   
   
   
   Chapter II (Both Apologize) 
   Haldane'S Hopes Were Realized beyond His Anticipations, For The Doctor'S 
   Old Mare--At First Surprised and Restless From The Wounds Made By The 
   Sharp Spines--Speedily Became Indignant And Fractious, And At Last, Half 
   Frantic With Pain, Started on A Gallop Down The Street, Setting all The 
   Town Agog With Excitement And Alarm. 
     
     
     
   With Grim Satisfaction Haldane Saw The Doctor'S Immaculate Silk Hat Fly 
   Into The Mud, His Wig, Blown Comically Awry, Fall Over His Eyes, And His 
   Spectacles Joggle Down Until They Sat Astride The Tip Of A Rather 
   Prominent Nose. 
     
     
     
   Having Had His Revenge He At Once Relented, And Rushing Out In advance 
   Of Some Others Who Were Coming To The Rescue, He Caught The Poor Beast, 
   And Stopped her So Suddenly That The Doctor Was Nearly Precipitated over 
   The Dashboard. Then, Pretending To Examine The Harness To See That 
   Nothing Was Broken, He Quietly Removed the Cause Of Irritation, And The 
   Naturally Sedate Beast At Once Became Far More Composed than Her Master, 
   For, As A Bystander Remarked, The Venerable Doctor Was "Dreadfully Shuck 
   Up." It Was Quite In keeping With Haldane'S Disingenuous Nature To 
   Accept The Old Gentleman'S Profuse Thanks For The Rescue. The Impulse To 
   Carry His Mischief Still Further Was At Once Acted upon, And He Offered 
   To See The Doctor Safely Home. 
     
     
     
   His Services Were Eagerly Accepted, For The Poor Man Was Much Too 
   Unnerved to Take The Reins Again, Though, Had He Known It, The Mare 
   Would Now Have Gone To The Parsonage Quietly, And Of Her Own Accord. 
     
     
     
   The Doctor Was Gradually Righted up And Composed. His Wig, Which Had 
   Covered his Left Eye, Was Arranged decorously In its Proper Place, And 
   The Gold-Rimmed spectacles Pressed back So That The Good Man Could Beam 
   Mildly And Gratefully Upon His Supposed preserver. The Clerical Hat, 
   However, Had Lost Its Character Beyond Recovery, And Though Its Owner 
   Was Obliged to Wear It Home, It Must Be Confessed that It Did Not At All 
   Comport With The Doctor'S Dignity And Calling. 
     
     
     
   Young Haldane Took The Reins With A Great Show Of Solicitude And 
   Vigilance, Appearing To Dread Another Display Of Viciousness From The 
   Mare, That Was Now Most Sheeplike In her Docility; And Thus, With His 
   Confiding Victim, He Jogged along Through The Crowded street, The Object 
   Of General Approval And Outspoken Commendation. 
     
     
     
   "My Dear Young Friend," Began The Doctor Fervently, "I Feel That You 
   Have Already Repaid Me Amply For My Labors In your Behalf." 
     
     
     
   "Thank You," Said Haldane Demurely; "I Think We Are Getting Even." 
     
     
     
   "This Has Been A Very Mysterious Affair," Continued the Doctor Musingly; 
   "Surely 'A Horse Is A Vain Thing For Safety.' One Is Almost Tempted to 
   Believe That Demoniacal Possession Is Not Wholly A Thing Of The Past. 
   Indeed, I Could Not Think Of Anything Else While Dolly Was Acting So 
   Viciously And Unaccountably." 
     
     
     
   "I Agree With You," Responded haldane Gravely, "She Certainly Did Come 
   Down The Street Like The Devil." 
     
     
     
   The Doctor Was A Little Shocked at This Putting Of His Thoughts Into 
   Plain English, For It Sounded somewhat Profanely. But He Was In no Mood 
   To Find Fault With His Companion, And They Got On Very Well Together To 
   The End Of Their Brief Journey. The Young Scapegrace Was Glad, Indeed, 
   That It Was Brief, For His Self-Control Was Fast Leaving Him, And Having 
   Bowed a Rather Abrupt Farewell To The Doctor, He Was Not Long In 
   Reaching One Of His Haunts, From Which During The Evening, And Quite 
   Late Into The Night, Came Repeated peals Of Laughter, That Grew More 
   Boisterous And Discordant As That Synonyme Of Mental And Moral Anarchy, 
   The "Spirit Of Wine," Gained the Mastery. 
     
     
     
   The Tidings Of Her Son'S Exploit In rescuing The Doctor Were Not Long In 
   Reaching Mrs. Haldane, And She Felt That The Good Seed sown That Day Had 
   Borne Immediate Fruit. She Longed to Fold Him In her Arms And Commend 
   His Courage, While She Poured out Thanksgiving That He Himself Had 
   Escaped uninjured, Which Immunity, She Believed, Must Have Resulted from 
   The Goodness And Piety Of The Deed. But When He At Last Appeared with 
   Step So Unsteady And Utterance So Thick That Even She Could Not Mistake 
   The Cause, She Was Bewildered and Bitterly Disappointed by The Apparent 
   Contradictoriness Of His Action; And When He, Too Far Gone For 
   Dissimulation, Described and Acted out In pantomime The Doctor'S Plight 
   And Appearance, She Became Half Hysterical From Her Desire To Laugh, To 
   Cry, And To Give Vent To Her Kindling Indignation. 
     
     
     
   This Anger Was Raised almost To The Point Of White Heat On The Morrow. 
   The Cause Of The Old Mare'S Behavior, And The Interview Which Had Led to 
   The Practical Joke, Soon Became An Open Secret, And While It Convulsed 
   The Town With Laughter, It Also Gave The Impression That Young Haldane 
   Was In a "Bad Way." 
     
     
     
   It Was Not Long Before Mrs. Haldane Received a Note From An Indignant 
   Fellow Church-Member, In which, With Some Disagreeable Comment, Her 
   Son'S Conduct Was Plainly Stated. She Was Also Informed that The Doctor 
   Had Become Aware Of The Rude Jest Of Which He Had Been The Subject. Mrs. 
   Haldane Was Almost Furious; But Her Son Grew Sullen And Obstinate As The 
   Storm Which He Had Raised increased. The Only Thing He Would Say As An 
   Apology Or Excuse Amounted to This: 
     
     
     
   "What Else Could He Expect From One Who He So Emphatically Asserted was 
   A Sinner?" 
     
     
     
   The Mother Wrote At Once To The Doctor, And Was Profuse In her Apologies 
   And Regrets, But Was Obliged to Admit To Him That Her Son Was Beyond Her 
   Control. 
     
     
     
   When The Doctor First Learned the Truth His Equanimity Was Almost As 
   Greatly Disturbed as It Had Been On The Previous Day, And His First 
   Emotions Were Obviously Those Of Wrath. But A Little Thought Brought Him 
   To A Better Mood. 
     
     
     
   He Was Naturally Deficient In tact, And His Long Habit Of Dwelling Upon 
   Abstract And Systematic Truth Had Diminished his Power Of Observantly 
   And Intuitively Gauging The Character Of The One With Whom He Was 
   Dealing. He Therefore Often Failed wofully In adaptation, And His 
   Sermons Occasionally Went Off Into Rarefied realms Of Moral Space, Where 
   Nothing Human Existed. But His Heart Was True And Warm, And His Master'S 
   Cause Of Far More Consequence To Him Than His Own Dignity. 
     
     
     
   As He Considered the Matter Maturely He Came To The Conclusion That 
   There Must Have Been Something Wrong On Both Sides. If He Had Presented 
   The Truth Properly The Young Man Could Not Have Acted so Improperly. 
   After Recalling The Whole Affair, He Became Satisfied that He Had Relied 
   Far Too Much On His Own Strong Logic, And It Had Seemed to Him That It 
   Must Convince. He Had Forgotten For The Moment That Those Who Would Do 
   Good Should Be Very Humble, And That, In a Certain Sense, They Must Take 
   The Hand Of God, And Place It Upon The One Whom They Would Save. 
     
     
     
   Thus The Honest Old Clergyman Tried to Search Out The Error And Weakness 
   Which Had Led to Such A Lamentable Failure In his Efforts; And When At 
   Last Mrs. Haldane'S Note Of Sorrowful Apology And Motherly Distress 
   Reached him, His Anger Was Not Only Gone, But His Heart Was Full Of 
   Commiseration For Both Herself And Her Son. He At Once Sat Down, And 
   Wrote Her A Kind And Consolatory Letter, In which He Charged her 
   Hereafter To Trust Less To The "Arm Of Flesh" And More To The "Power Of 
   God." He Also Inclosed a Note To The Young Man, Which His Mother Handed 
   To Him With A Darkly Reproachful Glance. He Opened it With A 
   Contemptuous Frown, Expecting To Find Within Only Indignant Upbraidings; 
   But His Face Changed rapidly As He Read The Following Words: 
     
     
     
     
   "My Dear Young Friend--I Hardly Know Which Of Us Should Apologize. I 
   Now Perceive And Frankly Admit That There Was Wrong On My Side. I 
   Could Not Have Approached you And Spoken To You In the Right Spirit, 
   For If I Had, What Followed could Not Have Occurred. I Fear There 
   Was A Self-Sufficiency In my Words And Mariner Yesterday, Which Made 
   You Conscious Of Dr. Marks Only, And You Had No Scruples In dealing 
   With Dr. Marks As You Did. If My Words And Bearing Had Brought You 
   Face To Face With My August Yet Merciful Master, You Would Have 
   Respected him, And Also Me, His Servant. I Confess That I Was Very 
   Angry This Morning, For I Am Human. But Now I Am More Concerned lest 
   I Have Prejudiced you Against Him By Whom Alone We All Are Saved. 
   Yours Faithfully, 
     
     
     
   "Zebulon Marks." 
     
     
     
     
   The Moment Haldane Finished reading The Note He Left The Room, And His 
   Mother Heard Him At The Hat-Rack In the Hall, Preparing To Go Out. She, 
   Supposing That He Was Again About To Seek Some Of His Evil Haunts, 
   Remonstrated sharply; But, Without Paying The Slightest Attention To Her 
   Words, He Departed, And Within Less Than Half An Hour Rang The Bell At 
   The Parsonage. 
     
     
     
   Dr. Marks Could Scarcely Believe His Eyes As The Young Man Was Shown 
   Into His Study, But He Welcomed him As Cordially As Though Nothing 
   Unpleasant Had Occurred between Them. 
     
     
     
   After A Moment'S Hesitation And Embarrassment Haldane Began: 
     
     
     
   "When I Read Your Note This Evening I Had Not The Slightest Doubt That I 
   Was The One To Apologize, And I Sincerely Ask Your Pardon." 
     
     
     
   The Old Gentleman'S Eyes Grew Moist, And He Blew His Nose In a Rather 
   Unusual Manner. But He Said Promptly: 
     
     
     
   "Thank You, My Young Friend, Thank You. I Appreciate This. But No Matter 
   About Me. How About My Master? Won'T You Become Reconciled to Him?" 
     
     
     
   "I Suppose By That You Mean, Won'T You Be A Christian?" 
     
     
     
   "That Is Just What I Mean And Most Desire. I Should Be Willing To Risk 
   Broken Bones Any Day To Accomplish That." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Smiled, Shook His Head, And After A Moment Said: 
     
     
     
   "I Must Confess That I Have Not The Slightest Wish To Become A 
   Christian." 
     
     
     
   The Old Gentleman'S Eager And Interested expression Changed instantly To 
   One Of The Deepest Sorrow And Commiseration. At The Same Time He 
   Appeared bewildered and Perplexed, But Murmured, More In soliloquy Than 
   As An Address To The Young Man: 
     
     
     
   "O Ephraim! How Shall I Give Thee Up?" 
     
     
     
   Haldane Was Touched by The Venerable Man'S Tone And Manner, More Than He 
   Would Have Thought Possible, And, Feeling That He Could Not Trust 
   Himself Any Longer, Determined to Make His Escape As Soon As 
   Practicable. But As He Rose To Take His Leave He Said, A Little 
   Impulsively: 
     
     
     
   "I Feel Sure, Sir, That If You Had Spoken And Looked yesterday As You Do 
   This Evening I Would Not Have--I Would Not Have--" 
     
     
     
   "I Understand, My Young Friend; I Now Feel Sure That I Was More To Blame 
   Than Yourself, And Your Part Is Already Forgiven And Forgotten. I Am Now 
   Only Solicitous About _You_." 
     
     
     
   "You Are Very Kind To Feel So After What Has Happened, And I Will Say 
   This Much--If I Ever Do Wish To Become A Christian, There Is No One 
   Living To Whom I Will Come For Counsel More Quickly Than Yourself. 
   Good-Night, Sir." 
     
     
     
   "Give Me Your Hand Before You Go." 
     
     
     
   It Was A Strong, Warm, Lingering Grasp That The Old Man Gave, And In the 
   Dark Days Of Temptation That Followed, Haldane Often Felt That It Had A 
   Helping and Sustaining Influence. 
     
     
     
   "I Wish I Could Hold On To You," Said The Doctor Huskily; "I Wish I 
   Could Lead You By Loving Force Into The Paths Of Pleasantness And Peace. 
   But What I Can'T Do, God Can. Good-By, And God Bless You." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Fled rather Precipitously, For He Felt That He Was Becoming 
   Constrained by A Loving Violence That Was As Mysterious As It Was 
   Powerful. Before He Had Passed through The Main Street Of The Town, 
   However, A Reckless Companion Placed an Arm In his, And Led him To One 
   Of Their Haunts, Where He Drank Deeper Than Usual, That He Might Get Rid 
   Of The Compunctions Which The Recent Interview Had Occasioned. 
     
     
     
   His Mother Was Almost In despair When He Returned. He Had, Indeed, 
   Become To Her A Terrible And Perplexing Problem. As She Considered the 
   Legitimate Results Of Her Own Weak Indulgence She Would Sigh Again And 
   Again: 
     
     
     
   "Never Was There A Darker And More Mysterious Providence. I Feel That I 
   Can Neither Understand It Nor Submit." 
     
     
     
   A Sense Of Helplessness In dealing With This Stubborn And Perverse Will 
   Overwhelmed her, And, While Feeling That Something Must Be Done, She Was 
   At A Loss What To Do. Her Spiritual Adviser Having Failed to Meet The 
   Case, She Next Summoned her Legal Counsellor, Who Managed her Property. 
     
     
     
   He Was A Man Of Few Words, And An Adept In worldly Wisdom. 
     
     
     
   "Your Son Should Have Employment," He Said; 
     
     
     
     "'Satan Finds Some Mischief Still 
     For Idle Hands,' 
     
     
     
   "Etc., Is A Sound Maxim, If Not First-Class Poetry. If Mr. Arnot, The 
   Husband Of Your Old Friend, Is Willing To Take Him, You Cannot Do Better 
   Than Place Your Son In his Charge, For He Is One Of The Most Methodical 
   And Successful Business Men Of My Acquaintance." 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot, In response To Her Friend'S Letter, Induced her Husband To 
   Make A Position In his Counting-House For Young Haldane, Who, From A 
   Natural Desire To See More Of The World, Entered into The Arrangement 
   Very Willingly. 
     
     
     
   
   
   
   Chapter III (Chained to An Iceberg) 
   Hillaton, The Suburban City In which The Arnots Resided, Was Not Very 
   Distant From New York, And Drew Much Of Its Prosperity From Its 
   Relations With The Metropolis. It Prided itself Much On Being a 
   University Town, But More Because Many Old Families Of Extremely Blue 
   Blood And Large Wealth Gave Tone And Color To Its Society. It Is True 
   That This Highest Social Circle Was Very Exclusive, And Formed but A 
   Small Fraction Of The Population; But The People In general Had Come To 
   Speak Of "Our Society," As Being "Unusually Good," Just As They 
   Commended to Strangers The Architecture Of "Our College Buildings," 
   Though They Had Little To Do With Either. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot'S Blood, However, Was As Blue As That Of The Most Ancient And 
   Aristocratic Of Her Neighbors, While In character And Culture She Had 
   Few Equals. But With The Majority Of Those Most Cerulean In their Vital 
   Fluid The Fact That She Possessed large Wealth In her Own Name, And Was 
   The Wife Of A Man Engaged in a Colossal Business, Weighed more Than All 
   Her Graces And Ancestral Honors. 
     
     
     
   Young Haldane'S Employer, Mr. Arnot, Was, Indeed, A Man Of Business And 
   Method, For The One Absorbed his Very Soul, And The Other Divided his 
   Life Into Cubes And Right Angles Of Manner And Habit. It Could Scarcely 
   Be Said That He Had Settled down Into Ruts, For This Would Presuppose 
   The Passiveness Of A Nature Controlled largely By Circumstances. People 
   Who Travel In ruts Drop More Often Into Those Made By Others Than Such 
   As Are Worn By Themselves. Mr. Arnot Moved rather In his Own 
   Well-Defined grooves, Which He Had Deliberately Furrowed out With His 
   Own Steely Will. In these He Went Through The Day With The Same Strong, 
   Relentless Precision Which Characterized the Machinery In his Several 
   Manufacturing Establishments. 
     
     
     
   He Was A Man, Too, Who Had Always Had His Own Way, And, As Is Usually 
   True In such Instances, The Forces Of His Life Had Become Wholly 
   Centripetal. 
     
     
     
   The Cosmos Of The Selfish Man Or Woman Is Practically This--Myself The 
   Centre Of The Universe, And All Things Else Are Near Or Remote, Of Value 
   Or Otherwise, In accordance With Their Value And Interest To Me. 
     
     
     
   Measuring By This Scale Of Distances (Which Was The Only Correct One In 
   The Case Of Mr. Arnot) The Wife Of His Bosom Was Quite A Remote Object. 
   She Formed no Part Of His Business, And He, In his Hard, Narrow 
   Worldliness, Could Not Even Understand The Principles And Motives Of Her 
   Action. She Was A True And Dutiful Wife, And Presided over His Household 
   With Elegance And Refinement; But He Regarded all This As A Matter Of 
   Course. He Could Not Conceive Of Anything Else In _His_ Wife. All 
   His "Subordinates" In their Several Spheres, "Must" Perform Their Duties 
   With Becoming Propriety. Everything "Must Be Regular And Systematic" In 
   His House, As Truly As In his Factories And Counting-Room. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Endeavored to Conform To His Peculiarities In this Respect, 
   And Kept Open The Domestic Grooves In which It Was Necessary To His 
   Peace That He Should Move Regularly And Methodically. He Had His Meals 
   At The Hour He Chose, To The Moment, And When He Retired to His 
   Library--Or, Rather, The Business Office At His House--Not The 
   Throne-Room Of King ahasuerus Was More Sacred from Intrusion; And Seldom 
   To His Wife, Even, Was The Sceptre Of Favor And Welcome Held Out, Should 
   She Venture To Enter. 
     
     
     
   For A Long Time She Had Tried to Be An Affectionate As Well As A 
   Faithful Wife, For She Had Married this Man From Love. She Had Mistaken 
   His Cool Self-Poise For The Calmness And Steadiness Of Strength; And 
   Women Are Captivated by Strength, And Sometimes By Its Semblance. He Was 
   Strong; But So Also Are The Driving-Wheels Of An Engine. 
     
     
     
   There Is An Undefined, Half-Recognized force In nature Which Leads Many 
   To Seek To Balance Themselves By Marrying Their Opposites In 
   Temperament. While The General Working Of This Tendency Is, No Doubt, 
   Beneficent, It Not Unfrequently Brings Together Those Who Are So 
   Radically Different, That They Cannot Supplement Each Other, But Must 
   Ever Remain Two Distinct, Unblended lives, That Are In duty Bound To 
   Obey The Letter Of The Law Of Marriage, But Who Cannot Fulfil Its 
   Spirit. 
     
     
     
   For Years Mrs. Arnot Had Sought With All A Woman'S Tact To Consummate 
   Their Marriage, So That The Mystical Words Of God, "And They Twain Shall 
   Be One Flesh," Should Describe Their Union; But As Time Passed she Had 
   Seen Her Task Grow More And More Hopeless. The Controlling Principles Of 
   Each Life Were Utterly Different. He Was Hardening Into Stone, While The 
   Dross And Materiality Of Her Nature Were Being Daily Refined away. A 
   Strong But Wholly Selfish Character Cannot Blend By Giving and Taking, 
   And Thus Becoming Modified into Something Different And Better. It Can 
   Only Absorb, And Thus Drag Down To Its Own Condition. Before There Can 
   Be Unity The Weaker One Must Give Up And Yield Personal Will And 
   Independence To Such A Degree That It Is Almost Equivalent To Being 
   Devoured and Assimilated. 
     
     
     
   But Mr. Arnot Seemed to Grow Too Narrow And Self-Sufficient In his 
   Nature For Such Spiritual Cannibalism, Even Had His Wife Been A Weak, 
   Neutral Character, With No Decided and Persistent Individuality Of Her 
   Own. He Was Not Slow In exacting Outward And Mechanical Service, But He 
   Had No Time To "Bother" With Her Thoughts, Feelings, And Opinions; Nor 
   Did He Think It Worth While, To Any Extent, To Lead Her To Reflect Only 
   His Feelings And Opinions. Neither She Nor Any One Else Was Very 
   Essential To Him. His Business _Was_ Necessary, And He Valued it Even 
   More Than The Wealth Which Resulted from It. He Grew Somewhat Like His 
   Machinery, Which Needed attention, But Which Cherished no Sentiments 
   Toward Those Who Waited on It During Its Hours Of Motion. 
     
     
     
   Thus, Though Not Deliberately Intending It, His Manner Toward His Wife 
   Had Come To Be More And More The Equivalent Of A Steady Black Frost, And 
   She At Last Feared that The Man Had Congealed or Petrified to His Very 
   Heart'S Core. 
     
     
     
   While The Only Love In mr. Arnot'S Heart Was Self-Love, Even In this 
   There Existed no Trace Of Weak Indulgence And Tenderness. His Life 
   Consisted in making His Vast And Complicated business Go Forward 
   Steadily, Systematically, And Successfully; And He Would Not Permit That 
   Entity Known As Thomas Arnot To Thwart Him Any More Than He Would Brook 
   Opposition Or Neglect In his Office-Boy. All Things, Even Himself, Must 
   Bend To The Furtherance Of His Cherished objects. 
     
     
     
   But, Whatever Else Was Lacking, Mr. Arnot Had A Profound Respect For His 
   Wife. First And Chiefly, She Was Wealthy, And He, Having Control Of Her 
   Property, Made It Subservient To His Business. He Had Chafed at First 
   Against What He Termed her "Sentimental Ways Of Doing Good" And Her 
   "Ridiculous Theories," But In these Matters He Had Ever Found Her As 
   Gentle As A Woman, But As Unyielding as Granite. She Told Him Plainly 
   That Her Religious Life And Its Expression Were Matters Between Herself 
   And God--That It Was A Province Into Which His Cast-Iron System And 
   Material Philosophy Could Not Enter. He Grumbled at Her Large Charities, 
   And Declared that She "Turned their Dwelling Into A Club-House For Young 
   Men"; But She Followed her Conscience With Such A Quiet, Unswerving 
   Dignity That He Found No Pretext For Interference. The Money She Gave 
   Away Was Her Own, And Fortunately, The House To Which It Was Her Delight 
   To Draw Young Men From Questionable And Disreputable Places Of Resort 
   Had Been Left To Her By Her Father. Though She Did Not Continually 
   Remind Her Husband Of These Facts, As An Under-Bred woman Might Have 
   Done, Her Manner Was So Assured and Unhesitating That He Was Compelled 
   To Recognize Her Rights, And To See That She Was Fully Aware Of Them 
   Also. Since She Yielded so Gracefully And Considerately All And More 
   Than He Could Justly Claim, He Finally Concluded to Ignore What He 
   Regarded as Her "Peculiarities." As For Himself, He Had No 
   Peculiarities. He Was A "Practical, Sensible Man, With No Nonsense About 
   Him." 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Haldane Had Been In such Sore Straits And Perplexity About Her Son 
   That She Overcame Her Habitual Reserve Upon Family And Personal Matters, 
   And Wrote To Her Friend A Long And Confidential Letter, In which She 
   Fully Described the "Mysterious Providence" Which Was Clouding Her Life. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Had Long Been Aware Of Her Friend'S Infirmity, And More Than 
   Once Had Sought With Delicacy And Yet With Faithfulness To Open Her Eyes 
   To The Consequences Of Her Indulgence. But Mrs. Haldane, Unfortunately, 
   Was Incapable Of Taking a Broad, And Therefore Correct, View Of 
   Anything. She Was Governed far More By Her Prejudices And Feelings Than 
   By Reason Or Experience, And The Emotion Or Prejudice Uppermost Absorbed 
   Her Mind So Completely As To Exclude All Other Considerations. Her 
   Friendship For Mrs. Arnot Had Commenced at School, But The Two Ladies 
   Had Developed so Differently That The Relation Had Become More A 
   Cherished memory Of The Happy Past Than A Congenial Intimacy Of Their 
   Maturer Life. 
     
     
     
   The "Mysterious Providence" Of Which Mrs. Haldane Wrote Was To Mrs. 
   Arnot A Legitimate And Almost Inevitable Result. But, Now That The 
   Mischief Had Been Accomplished, She Was The Last One In the World To Say 
   To Her Friend, "I Told You So." To Her Mind The Providential Feature In 
   The Matter Was The Chance That Had Come To Her Of Counteracting The Evil 
   Which The Mother Had Unconsciously Developed. This Opportunity Was In 
   The Line Of Her Most Cherished plan And Hope Of Usefulness, As Will Be 
   Hereafter Seen, And She Had Lost No Time In persuading Her Husband To 
   Give Haldane Employment In his Counting-Room. She Also Secured his 
   Consent That The Youth Should Become A Member Of The Family, For A Time 
   At Least. Mr. Arnot Yielded these Points Reluctantly, For It Was A Part 
   Of His Policy To Have No More Personal Relations With His _Employes_ 
   Than With His Machinery. He Wished them To Feel That They Were Merely A 
   Part Of His System, And That The Moment Any One Did Not Work Regularly 
   And Accurately He Must Be Cast Aside As Certainly As A Broken Or 
   Defective Wheel. But As His Wife'S Health Made Her Practically A Silent 
   Partner In his Vast Business, He Yielded--Though With Rather Ill Grace, 
   And With A Prediction That It "Would Not Work Well." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Was Aware That His Mother Had Written A Long Letter To Mrs. 
   Arnot, And He Supposed that His Employer And His Wife Had Thus Become 
   Acquainted with All His Misdeeds. He, Therefore, Rather Dreaded to Meet 
   Those Who Must, From The First, Regard Him As A Graceless And Difficult 
   Subject, That Could Not Be Managed at Home. But, With The Characteristic 
   Recklessness Of Young Men Who Have Wealth To Fall Back Upon, He Had 
   Fortified himself By Thoughts Like The Following: 
     
     
     
   "If They Do Not Treat Me Well, Or Try To Put Me Into A Straight-Jacket, 
   Or If I Find The Counting-House Too Dull, I Can Bid Them Good-Morning 
   Whenever I Choose." 
     
     
     
   But Mrs. Arnot'S Frank And Cordial Reception Was An Agreeable Surprise. 
   He Arrived quite Late In the Evening, And She Had A Delightful Little 
   Lunch Brought To Him In her Private Parlor. By The Time It Was Eaten Her 
   Graceful Tact Had Banished all Stiffness And Sense Of Strangeness, And 
   He Found Himself Warming Into Friendliness Toward One Whom He Had 
   Especially Dreaded as A "Remarkably Pious Lady"--For Thus His Mother Had 
   Always Spoken Of Her. 
     
     
     
   It Was Scarcely Strange That He Should Be Rapidly Disarmed by This Lady, 
   Who Cannot Be Described in a Paragraph. Though Her Face Was Rather 
   Plain, It Was So Expressive Of Herself That It Seldom Failed to 
   Fascinate. Nature Can Do Much To Render A Countenance Attractive, But 
   Character Accomplishes Far More. The Beauty Which Is Of Feature Merely 
   Catches The Careless, Wandering Eye. The Beauty Which Is The Reflex Of 
   Character _Holds_ The Eye, And Eventually Wins The Heart. Those Who 
   Knew Mrs. Arnot Best Declared that, Instead Of Growing Old And Homely, 
   She Was Growing More Lovely Every Year. Her Dark Hair Had Turned gray 
   Early, And Was Fast Becoming Snowy White. For Some Years After Her 
   Marriage She Had Grown Old Very Fast. She Had Dwelt, As It Were, On The 
   Northern Side Of An Iceberg, And In her Vain Attempt To Melt And 
   Humanize It, Had Almost Perished herself. As The Earthly Streams And 
   Rills That Fed her Life Congealed, She Was Led to Accept Of The Love Of 
   God, And The Long Arctic Winter Of Her Despair Passed gradually Away. 
   She Was Now Growing Young Again. A Faint Bloom Was Dawning In her 
   Cheeks, And Her Form Was Gaming That Fulness Which Is Associated with 
   The Maturity Of Middle Age. Her Bright Black Eyes Were The Most 
   Attractive And Expressive Feature Which She Possessed, And They Often 
   Seemed gifted with Peculiar Powers. 
     
     
     
   As They Beamed upon The Young Man They Had Much The Same Effect As The 
   Anthracite Coals Which Glowed in the Grate, And He Began To Be Conscious 
   Of Some Disposition To Give Her His Confidence. 
     
     
     
   Having Dismissed the Servant With The Lunch Tray, She Caused him To Draw 
   His Chair Sociably Up To The Fire, And Said, Without Any Circumlocution: 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Haldane, Perhaps This Is The Best Time For Us To Have A Frank Talk 
   In Regard To The Future." 
     
     
     
   The Young Man Thought That This Was The Preface For Some Decided 
   Criticism Of The Past, And His Face Became A Little Hard And Defiant. 
   But In this He Was Mistaken, For The Lady Made No Reference To His 
   Faults, Of Which She Had Been Informed by His Mother. She Spoke In a 
   Kindly But Almost In a Business-Like Way Of His Duties In the 
   Counting-Room, And Of The Domestic Rules Of The Household, To Which He 
   Would Be Expected to Conform. She Also Spoke Plainly Of Her Husband'S 
   Inexorable Requirement Of System, Regularity, And Order, And Dwelt Upon 
   The Fact That All In his Employ Conformed to This Demand, And That It 
   Was The Business-Like And Manly Thing To Do. 
     
     
     
   "This Is Your First Venture Out Into The World, I Understand," She Said, 
   Rising To Intimate That Their Interview Was Over, "And I Greatly Wish 
   That It May Lead Toward A Useful And Successful Career. I Have Spoken 
   Plainly Because I Wished you To Realize Just What You Have Undertaken, 
   And Thus Meet With No Unpleasant Surprises Or Unexpected experiences. 
   When One Enters Upon A Course With His Eyes Open, He In a Certain Sense 
   Pledges Himself To Do The Best He Can In that Line Of Duty, And Our 
   Acquaintance, Though So Brief, Has Convinced me That You _Can_ Do Very 
   Well Indeed." 
     
     
     
   "I Was Under The Impression," Said The Young Man, Coloring Deeply, "That 
   My Mother'S Letter Had Led you To Suppose--To Expect Just The Contrary." 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Haldane," Said Mrs. Arnot, Giving Him Her Hand With Graceful Tact, 
   "I Shall Form My Opinion Of You Solely On The Ground Of Your Own Action, 
   And I Wish You To Think Of Me As A Friend Who Takes A Genuine Interest 
   In Your Success. Good-Night." 
     
     
     
   He Went To His Room In quite A Heroic And Virtuous Mood. 
     
     
     
   "She Does Not Treat Me A Bit Like A 'Bad Boy,' As I Supposed she Would," 
   He Thought; "But Appears To Take It For Granted that I Shall Be A 
   Gentleman In this Her House, And A Sensible Fellow In her Husband'S 
   Office. Blow Me If I Disappoint Her!" 
     
     
     
   Nor Did He For Several Weeks. Even Mr. Arnot Was Compelled to Admit That 
   It Did "Work Rather Better Than He Expected," And That He "Supposed the 
   Young Fellow Did As Well As He Could." 
     
     
     
   As The Novelty Of Haldane'S New Relations Wore Off, However, And As His 
   Duties Became So Familiar As To Be Chiefly A Matter Of Routine, The 
   Grave Defects Of His Character And Training Began To Show Themselves. 
   The Restraint Of The Counting-Room Grew Irksome. Associations Were 
   Formed in the City Which Tended toward His Old Evil Habits. As A Piece 
   Of Mr. Arnot'S Machinery He Did Not Move With The Increasing Precision 
   That His Employer Required and Expected on His Becoming Better 
   Acquainted with His Duties. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Had Expected this, And Knew That Her Husband Would Tolerate 
   Carelessness And Friction Only Up To A Certain Point. She Had Gained 
   More Influence Over The Young Man Than Any One Else Had Ever Possessed, 
   And By Means Of It Kept Him Within Bounds For Some Time; But She Saw 
   From Her Husband'S Manner That Things Were Fast Approaching a Crisis. 
     
     
     
   One Evening She Kindly, But Frankly, Told Him Of The Danger In which He 
   Stood Of An Abrupt, Stern Dismissal. 
     
     
     
   He Was More Angry Than Alarmed, And During The Following Day About 
   Concluded that He Would Save Himself Any Such Mortification By Leaving 
   Of His Own Accord. He Quite Persuaded himself That He Had A Soul Above 
   Plodding Business, And That, After Enjoying Himself At Home For A Time, 
   He Could Enter Upon Some Other Career, That Promised more Congeniality 
   And Renown. 
     
     
     
   In Order That His Employer Might Not Anticipate Him, He Performed his 
   Duties Very Accurately That Day, But Left The Office With The 
   Expectation Of Never Returning. 
     
     
     
   He Had Very Decided compunctions In thus Requiting Mrs. Arnot'S 
   Kindness, But Muttered recklessly: 
     
     
     
   "I'M Tired of This Humdrum, Treadmill Life, And Believe I'M Destined to 
   Better Things. If I Could Only Get A Good Position In the Army Or Navy, 
   The World Would Hear From Me. They Say Money Opens Every Door, And 
   Mother Must Open Some Good Wide Door For Me." 
     
     
     
   Regardless Now Of His Employer'S Good Or Bad Opinion, He Came Down Late 
   To Supper; But, Instead Of Observing With Careless Defiance The Frown 
   Which He Knew Lowered toward Him, His Eyes Were Drawn To A Fair Young 
   Face On The Opposite Side Of The Table. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot, In her Pleasant, Cordial Voice, Which Made The Simplest 
   Thing She Said Seem Real And Hearty, Rather Than Conventional, 
   Introduced him: 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Haldane, My Niece, Miss Laura Romeyn. Laura, No Doubt, Can Do Far 
   More Than An Old Lady To Make Your Evenings Pass Brightly." 
     
     
     
   After A Second Glance Of Scrutiny, Haldane Was So Ungratefully Forgetful 
   Of All Mrs. Arnot'S Kindness As To Be Inclined to Agree With Her Remark. 
   
   
   
   Chapter IV (Immature) 
   "Is She A Young Lady, Or Merely A School-Girl?" Was Haldane'S Query 
   Concerning The Stranger Sitting Opposite To Him; And He Addressed to Her 
   A Few Commonplace But Exploring Remarks. Regarding Himself As Well 
   Acquainted with Society In general, And Young Ladies In particular, He 
   Expected to Solve The Question At Once, And Was Perplexed that He Could 
   Not. He Had Flirted with Several Misses As Immature As Himself, And So 
   Thought That He Was Profoundly Versed in the Mysteries Of The Sex. "They 
   Naturally Lean Toward And Look Up To Men, And One Is A Fool, Or Else 
   Lacking In personal Appearance, Who Does Not Have His Own Way With 
   Them," Was His Opinion, Substantially. 
     
     
     
   Modesty Is A Grace Which Fine-Looking Young Men Of Large Wealth Are 
   Often Taught By Some Severe Experiences, If It Is Ever Learned. Haldane, 
   As Yet, Had Not Received such Wholesome Depletion. His Self-Approval And 
   Assurance, Moreover, Were Quite Natural, Since His Mother And Sisters 
   Had Seldom Lost An Opportunity Of Developing and Confirming These 
   Traits. The Yielding Of Women To His Will And Wishes Had Been One Of The 
   Most Uniform Experiences Of His Life, And He Had Come To Regard It As 
   The Natural Order Of Things. Without Formulating The Thought In plain 
   Words, He Nevertheless Regarded mrs. Arnot'S Kindness, By Which She 
   Sought To Gain A Helpful Influence Over Him, As Largely Due To Some 
   Peculiar Fascination Of His Own, Which Made Him A Favorite Wherever He 
   Chose To Be. Of Course, The Young Stranger On The Opposite Side Of The 
   Table Would Prove No Exception To The Rule, And All He Had To Do Was To 
   Satisfy Himself That She Was Sufficiently Pretty And Interesting To Make 
   It Worth While To Pay Her A Little Attention. 
     
     
     
   But For Some Reason She Did Not Seem Greatly Impressed by His 
   Commonplace And Rather Patronizing Remarks. Was It Pride Or Dignity On 
   Her Part, Or Was It Mere Girlish Shyness? It Must Be The Latter, For 
   There Was No Occasion For Pride And Dignity In her Manner Toward Him. 
     
     
     
   Then Came The Thought That Possibly Mrs. Arnot Had Not Told Her Who He 
   Was, And That She Looked upon Him As A Mere Clerk Of Low Degree. To 
   Remove From Her Mind Any Such Error, His Tones And Manner Became Still 
   More Self-Asserting and Patronizing. 
     
     
     
   "If She Has Any Sense At All," He Thought, "She Shall See That I Have 
   Peculiar Claims To Her Respect." 
     
     
     
   As He Proceeded in these Tactics, There Was A Growing Expression Of 
   Surprise And A Trace Of Indignation Upon The Young Girl'S Face. Mrs. 
   Arnot Watched the By-Play With An Amused expression. There Was Not Much 
   Cynicism In her Nature. She Believed that Experience Would Soon Prick 
   The Bubble Of His Vanity, And It Was Her Disposition To Smile Rather 
   Than To Sneer At Absurdity In others. Besides, She Was Just. She Never 
   Applied to A Young Man Of Twenty The Standard By Which She Would Measure 
   Those Of Her Own Age, And She Remembered haldane'S Antecedents. But Mr. 
   Arnot Went To His Library Muttering: 
     
     
     
   "The Ridiculous Fool!" 
     
     
     
   When Miss Romeyn Rose From The Table, Haldane Saw That She Was Certainly 
   Tall Enough To Be A Young Lady, For She Was Slightly Above Medium 
   Height. He Still Believed that She Was Very Young, However, For Her 
   Figure Was Slight And Girlish, And While Her Bearing Was Graceful It Had 
   Not That Assured and Pronounced character To Which He Had Been 
   Accustomed. 
     
     
     
   "She Evidently Has Not Seen Much Of Society. Well, Since She Is Not 
   Gawky, I Like Her Better Than If She Were Blase. Anything But Your Blase 
   Girls," He Observed to Himself, With A Consciousness That He Was An 
   Experienced man Of The World. 
     
     
     
   The Piano Stood Open In the Drawing-Room, And This Suggested music. 
   Haldane Had At His Tongue'S End The Names Of Half A Dozen Musicians 
   Whose Professional Titles Had Been Prominent In the Newspapers For A Few 
   Months Previous, And Whose Merits Had Formed a Part Of The Current 
   Chit-Chat Of The Day. Some He Had Heard, And Others He Had Not, But He 
   Could Talk Volubly Of All, And He Asked miss Romeyn For Her Opinion Of 
   One And Another In a Manner Which Implied that Of Course She Knew About 
   Them, And That Ignorance In regard To Such Persons Was Not To Be 
   Expected. 
     
     
     
   Her Face Colored with Annoyance, But She Said Quietly And A Trifle 
   Coldly That She Had Not Heard Them. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Again Smiled as She Watched the Young People, But She Now 
   Came To Her Niece'S Rescue, Thinking also It Would Be Well To Disturb 
   Haldane'S Sense Of Superiority Somewhat. So She Said: 
     
     
     
   "Laura, Since We Cannot Hear This Evening The Celebrated artists That 
   Mr. Haldane Has Mentioned, We Must Content Ourselves With Simple Home 
   Music. Won'T You Play For Us That Last Selection Of Which You Wrote To 
   Me?" 
     
     
     
   "I Hardly Dare, Auntie, Since Mr. Haldane Is Such A Critical Judge, And 
   Has Heard So Much Music From Those Who Make It A Business To Be Perfect. 
   He Must Have Listened to The Selection You Name A Hundred times, For It 
   Is Familiar To Most Lovers Of Good Music." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Had Sudden Misgivings. Suppose He Had Not Heard It? This Would 
   Be Awkward, After His Assumed acquaintance With Such Matters. 
     
     
     
   "Even If Mr. Haldane Is Familiar With It," Mrs. Arnot Replied, 
   "Steibelt'S Storm Rondo Will Bear Repetition. Besides, His Criticism May 
   Be Helpful, Since He Can Tell You Wherein You Come Short Of The Skilled 
   Professionals." 
     
     
     
   Laura Caught The Twinkle In her Aunt'S Eye, And Went To The Piano. 
     
     
     
   The Young Man Saw At Once That He Had Been Caught In his Own Trap, For 
   The Music Was Utterly Unfamiliar. The Rondo Was No Wonderful Piece Of 
   Intricacy, Such As A Professional Might Choose. On The Contrary, It Was 
   Simple, And Quite Within The Capabilities Of A Young And Well-Taught 
   Girl. But It Was Full Of Rich Melody Which Even He, In his Ignorance, 
   Could Understand And Appreciate, And Yet, For Aught That He Knew It Was 
   Difficult In the Extreme. 
     
     
     
   At First He Had A Decided sense Of Humiliation, And A Consciousness That 
   It Was Deserved. He Had Been Talking Largely And Confidently Of An Art 
   Concerning Which He Knew Little, And In which He Began To Think That His 
   Listener Was Quite Well Versed. 
     
     
     
   But As The Thought Of The Composer Grew In power And Beauty He Forgot 
   Himself And His Dilemma In his Enjoyment. Two Senses Were Finding 
   Abundant Gratification At The Same Time, For It Was A Delight To Listen, 
   And It Was Even A Greater Pleasure To Look At The Performer. 
     
     
     
   She Gave Him A Quick, Shy Glance Of Observation, Fearing Somewhat That 
   She Might See Severe Judgment Or Else Cool Indifference In the 
   Expression Of His Face, And She Was Naturally Pleased and Encouraged 
   When She Saw, Instead, Undisguised admiration. His Previous Manner Had 
   Annoyed her, And She Determined to Show Him That His Superior Airs Were 
   Quite Uncalled for. Thus The Diffident Girl Was Led to Surpass Herself, 
   And Infuse So Much Spirit And Grace Into Her Playing as To Surprise Even 
   Her Aunt. 
     
     
     
   Haldane Was Soon Satisfied that She Was More Than Pretty--That She Was 
   Beautiful. Her Features, That Had Seemed too Thin And Colorless, Flushed 
   With Excitement, And Her Blue Eyes, Which He Had Thought Cold And 
   Expressionless, Kindled until They Became Lustrous. He Felt, In a Way 
   That He Could Not Define To Himself, That Her Face Was Full Of Power And 
   Mind, And That She Was Different From The Pretty Girls Who Had Hitherto 
   Been His Favorites. 
     
     
     
   As She Rose From The Piano He Was Mastered by One Of Those Impulses 
   Which Often Served him In the Place Of Something Better, And He Said 
   Impetuously: 
     
     
     
   "Miss Romeyn, I Beg Your Pardon. You Know A Hundred-Fold More About 
   Music Than I Do, And I Have Been Talking as If The Reverse Were True. I 
   Never Heard Anything So Fine In my Life, And I Also Confess That I Never 
   Heard That Piece Before." 
     
     
     
   The Young Girl Blushed with Pleasure On Having Thus Speedily Vanquished 
   This Superior Being, Whom She Had Been Learning Both To Dread And 
   Dislike. At The Same Time His Frank, Impulsive Words Of Compliment Did 
   Much To Remove The Prejudice Which She Was Naturally Forming against 
   Him. Mrs. Arnot Said, With Her Mellow Laugh, That Often Accomplished 
   More Than Long Homilies: 
     
     
     
   "That Is A Manly Speech, Egbert, And Much To Your Credit. 'Honest 
   Confession Is Good For The Soul.'" 
     
     
     
   Haldane Did Not Get On His Stilts Again That Evening, And Before It Was 
   Over He Concluded that Miss Romeyn Was The Most Charming Young Lady He 
   Had Ever Met, Though, For Some Reason, She Still Permitted him To Do 
   Nearly All The Talking. She Bade Him Good-Night, However, With A Smile 
   That Was Not Unkindly, And Which Was Interpreted by Him As Being 
   Singularly Gracious. 
     
     
     
   By This Time He Had Concluded that Miss Romeyn Was A "Young Lady _Par 
   Excellence_"; But It Has Already Been Shown That His Judgment In most 
   Matters Was Not To Be Trusted. Whether She Was A School-Girl Or A Fully 
   Fledged young Lady, A Child Or A Woman, Might Have Kept A Closer 
   Observer Than Himself Much Longer In doubt. In truth, She Was Scarcely 
   The One Or The Other, And Had Many Of The Characteristics Of Both. His 
   Opinion Of Her Was As Incorrect As That Of Himself. He Was Not A Man, 
   Though He Considered himself A Superior One, And Had Attained to Manly 
   Proportions. 
     
     
     
   But There Were Wide Differences In their Immaturity. She Was Forming 
   Under The Guidance Of A Mother Who Blended firmness And Judgment Equally 
   With Love. Gentle Blood Was In her Veins, And She Had Inherited many Of 
   Her Mother'S Traits With Her Beauty. Her Parents, However, Believed 
   That, Even As The Garden Of Eden Needed to Be "Dressed and Kept," So The 
   Nature Of Their Child Required careful Pruning, With Repression Here And 
   Development There. While The Young Girl Was Far From Being Faultless, 
   Fine Traits And Tendencies Dominated, And, Though As Yet Undeveloped, 
   They Were Unfolding With The Naturalness And Beauty Of A Budding Flower. 
     
     
     
   In Haldane'S Case Evil Traits Were In the Ascendant, And The Best Hope 
   For Him Was That They As Yet Had Not Become Confirmed. 
     
     
     
   "Who Is This Mr. Haldane, Auntie?" Laura Asked on Reaching Her Room. 
   There Was A Slight Trace Of Vexation In her Tone. 
     
     
     
   "He Is The Son Of An Old Friend Of Mine. I Have Induced my Husband To 
   Try To Give Him A Business Education. You Do Not Like Him." 
     
     
     
   "I Did Not Like Him At All At First, But He Improves A Little On 
   Acquaintance. Is He A Fair Sample Of Your Young Men Proteges?" 
     
     
     
   "He Is The Least Promising Of Any Of Them," Replied mrs. Arnot, Sitting 
   Down Before The Fire. Laura Saw That Her Face Had Become Shadowed with 
   Sadness And Anxiety. 
     
     
     
   "You Look Troubled, Auntie. Is He The Cause?" 
     
     
     
   "Yes." 
     
     
     
   "Are You Very Much Interested in him?" 
     
     
     
   "I Am, Laura; Very Much, Indeed. I Cannot Bear To Give Him Up, And Yet I 
   Fear I Must." 
     
     
     
   "Is He A Very Interesting 'Case'?" Asked the Young Girl In some 
   Surprise. "Mother Often Laughingly Calls The Young Men You Are Trying To 
   Coax To Be Good By Your Winning Ways, 'Cases.' I Don'T Know Much About 
   Young Men, But Should Suppose That You Had Many Under Treatment Much 
   More Interesting Than He Is." 
     
     
     
   "Sister Fanny Is Always Laughing at My Hobby, And Saying That, Since I 
   Have No Children Of My Own, I Try To Adopt Every Young Man Who Will Give 
   Me A Chance. Perhaps If I Try To Carry Out Your Mother'S Figure, You 
   Will Understand Why I Am So Interested in this 'Case.' If I Were A 
   Physician And Had Charge Of A Good Many Patients, Ought I Not To Be 
   Chiefly Interested in those Who Were In the Most Critical And Dangerous 
   Condition?" 
     
     
     
   "It Would Be Just Like You To Be So, Auntie, And I Would Not Mind Being 
   Quite Ill Myself If I Could Have You To Take Care Of Me. I Hope The 
   Young Men Whom You 'Adopt' Appreciate Their Privileges." 
     
     
     
   "The Trouble With Most Of Us, Laura, Is That We Become Wise Too Late In 
   Life. Young People Are Often Their Own Worst Enemies, And If You Wish To 
   Do Them Good, You Must Do It, As It Were, On The Sly. If One Tries 
   Openly To Reform And Guide Them--If I Should Say Plainly, Such And Such 
   Are Your Faults; Such And Such Places And Associations Are Full Of 
   Danger--They Would Be Angry Or Disgusted, Or They Would Say I Was Blue 
   And Strait-Laced, And Had An Old Woman'S Notions Of What A Man Should 
   Be. I Must Coax Them, As You Say; I Must Disguise My Medicines, And 
   Apply My Remedies Almost Without Their Knowing It. I Also Find It True 
   In My Practice That Tonics And Good Wholesome Diet Are Better Than All 
   Moral Drugs. It Seems To Me That If I Can Bring around These Giddy Young 
   Fellows Refining, Steadying, Purifying Influences, I Can Do Them More 
   Good Than If I Lectured them. The Latter Is The Easier Way, And Many 
   Take It. It Would Require But A Few Minutes To Tell This Young Haldane 
   What His Wise Safe Course Must Be If He Would Avoid Shipwreck; But I Can 
   See His Face Flush And Lip Curl At My Homily. And Yet For Weeks I Have 
   Been Angling For Him, And I Fear To No Purpose. Your Uncle May Discharge 
   Him Any Day. It Makes Me Very Sad To Say It, But If He Goes Home I Think 
   He Will Also Go To Ruin. Thank God For Your Good, Wise Mother, Laura. It 
   Is A Great Thing To Be Started right In life." 
     
     
     
   "Then This Young Man Has Been Started wrong? 
     
     
     
   "Yes, Wrong Indeed." 
     
     
     
   "Is He So Very Bad, Auntie?" Laura Asked with A Face Full Of Serious 
   Concern. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Smiled as She Said, "If You Were A Young Society Chit, You 
   Might Think Him 'Very Nice,' As Their Slang Goes. He Is Good-Looking and 
   Rich, And His Inclination To Be Fast Would Be A Piquant Fact In his 
   Favor. He Has Done Things Which Would Seem To You Very Wrong Indeed. But 
   He Is Foolish And Ill-Trained rather Than Bad. He Is A Spoiled boy, And 
   Spoiled boys Are Apt To Become Spoiled men. I Have Told You All This 
   Partly Because, Having Been Your Mother'S Companion All Your Life, You 
   Are So Old-Fashioned that I Can Talk To You Almost As I Would To Sister 
   Fanny, And Partly Because I Like To Talk About My Hobby." 
     
     
     
   A Young Girl Naturally Has Quick Sympathies, And All The Influences Of 
   Laura'S Life Had Been Gentle And Humane. Her Aunt'S Words Speedily Led 
   Her To Regard Haldane As An "Interesting Case," A Sort Of Fever Patient 
   Who Was Approaching The Crisis Of His Disease. Curling Down On The 
   Floor, And Leaning Her Arms On Her Aunt'S Lap, She Looked up With A Face 
   Full Of Solicitude As She Asked: 
     
     
     
   "And Don'T You Think You Can Save Him? Please Don'T Give Up Trying." 
     
     
     
   "I Like The Expression Of Your Face Now," Said Mrs. Arnot, Stroking The 
   Abundant Tresses, That Were Falling Loosely From The Girl'S Head, "For 
   In It I Catch A Glimpse Of The Divine Image. Many Think Of God As 
   Looking Down Angrily And Frowningly Upon The Foolish And Wayward; But I 
   See In the Solicitude Of Your Face A Faint Reflection Of The 'Not 
   Willing That Any Should Perish' Which It Ever Seems To Me Is The 
   Expression Of His." 
     
     
     
   "Laura," Said She Abruptly, After A Moment, "Did Any One Ever Tell You 
   That You Were Growing Up Very Pretty?" 
     
     
     
   "No, Auntie," Said The Girl, Blushing and Laughing. 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Haldane Told You So This Evening." 
     
     
     
   "O Auntie, You Are Mistaken; He Could Not Have Been So Rude." 
     
     
     
   "He Did Not Make A Set Speech To That Effect, My Dear, But He Told You 
   So By His Eyes And Manner, Only You Are Such An Innocent Home Child That 
   You Did Not Notice. But When You Go Into Society You Will Be Told This 
   Fact So Often That You Will Be Compelled to Heed it, And Will Soon Learn 
   The Whole Language Of Flattery, Spoken And Unspoken. Perhaps I Had, 
   Better Forewarn You A Little, And So Forearm You. What Are You Going To 
   Do With Your Beauty?" 
     
     
     
   "Why, Auntie, How Funny You Talk! What Should I Do With It, Granting 
   That It Has Any Existence Save In your Fond Eyes?" 
     
     
     
   "Suppose You Use It To Make Men Better, Instead Of To Make Them Merely 
   Admire You. One Can'T Be A Belle Very Long At Best, And Of All The 
   Querulous, Discontented, And Disagreeable People That I Have Met, 
   Superannuated belles, Who Could No Longer Obtain Their Revenue Of 
   Flattery, Were The Worst. They Were Impoverished, Indeed. If You Do As I 
   Suggest, You Will Have Much That Is Pleasant To Think About When You 
   Come To Be As Old As I Am. Perhaps You Can Do More For Young Haldane 
   Than I Can." 
     
     
     
   "Now, Auntie, What Can I Do?" 
     
     
     
   "That Which Nearly All Women Can Do: Be Kind And Winning; Make Our Safe, 
   Cosey Parlor So Attractive That He Will Not Go Out Evenings To Places 
   Which Tend To Destroy Him. You Feel An Interest In him; Show It. Ask Him 
   About His Business, And Get Him To Explain It To You. Suggest That If 
   You Were A Man You Would Like To Master Your Work, And Become Eminent In 
   It. Show By Your Manner And By Words, If Occasion Offers, That You Love 
   And Revere All That Is Sacred, Pure, And Christian. Laura, Innocent Dove 
   As You Are, You Know That Many Women Beguile Men To Ruin With Smiles. 
   Men Can Be Beguiled from Ruin With Smiles. Indeed, I Think Multitudes 
   Are Permitted to Go To Destruction Because Women Are So Unattractive, So 
   Absorbed in themselves And Their Nerves. If Mothers And Wives, Maidens 
   And Old Maids, Would All Commence Playing The Agreeable To The Men Of 
   Their Household And Circle, Not For The Sake Of A Few Compliments, But 
   For The Purpose Of Luring Them From Evil And Making Them Better, The 
   World Would Improve At Once." 
     
     
     
   "I See, Auntie," Said Laura, Laughing; "You Wish To Administer Me As A 
   Sugar-Coated pill To Your 'Difficult Case.'" 
     
     
     
   A Deep Sigh Was The Only Answer, And, Looking Up, Laura Saw That Her 
   Words Had Not Been Heeded. Tears Were In her Aunt'S Eyes, And After A 
   Moment She Said Brokenly: 
     
     
     
   "My Theories Seem True Enough, And Yet How Signally I Have Failed in 
   Carrying Them Out! Perhaps It Is My Fault; Perhaps It Is My Fault; But 
   I'Ve Tried--Oh! How I Have Tried! Laura, Dear, You Know That I Am A 
   Lonely Woman; But Do Not Let This Prejudice You Against What I Have 
   Said. Good-Night, Dear; I Have Kept You Up Too Long After Your Journey." 
     
     
     
   Her Niece Understood Her Allusion To The Cold, Unloving Man Who Sat 
   Alone Every Evening In his Dim Library, Thinking Rarely Of His Wife, But 
   Often Of Her Wealth, And How It Might Increase His Leverage In his 
   Herculean Labors. The Young Girl Had The Tact To Reply Only By A Warm, 
   Lingering Embrace. It Was An Old Sorrow, Of Which She Had Long Been 
   Aware; But It Seemed without Remedy, And Was Rarely Touched upon. 
     
     
   
   
   
   Chapter V (Passion'S Clamor) 
   Laura Had A Strong Affection For Her Aunt, And Would Naturally Be 
   Inclined to Gratify Any Wishes That She Might Express, Even Had They 
   Involved tasks Uncongenial And Unattractive. But The Proposal That She 
   Should Become An Ally In the Effort To Lure Young Haldane From His Evil 
   Associations, And Awaken Within Him Pure And Refined tastes, Was 
   Decidedly Attractive. She Was Peculiarly Romantic In her Disposition, 
   And No Rude Contact With The Commonplace, Common-Sense World Had 
   Chastened her Innocent Fancies By Harsh And Disagreeable Experience. Her 
   Christian Training and Girlish Simplicity Lifted her Above The Ordinary 
   Romanticism Of Imagining Herself The Heroine In every Instance, And The 
   Object And End Of All Masculine Aspirations. On This Occasion She Simply 
   Desired to Act The Part Of A Humble Assistant Of Mrs. Arnot, Whom She 
   Regarded as Haldane'S Good Angel; And She Was Quite As Disinterested in 
   Her Hope For The Young Man'S Moral Improvement As Her Aunt Herself. 
     
     
     
   The Task, Moreover, Was Doubly Pleasing Since She Could Perform It In a 
   Way That Was So Womanly And Agreeable. She Could Scarcely Have Given 
   Haldane A Plain Talk On The Evils Of Fast Living To Save Her Life, But 
   If She Could Keep Young Men From Going To Destruction By Smiling Upon 
   Them, By Games Of Backgammon And By Music, She Felt In the Mood To Be A 
   Missionary All Her Life, Especially If She Could Have So Safe And 
   Attractive A Field Of Labor As Her Aunt'S Back Parlor. 
     
     
     
   But The Poor Child Would Soon Learn That Perverse Human Nature Is Much 
   The Same In a Drawing-Room And A Tenement-House, And That All Who Seek 
   To Improve It Are Doomed to Meet Much That Is Excessively Annoying and 
   Discouraging. 
     
     
     
   The Simple-Hearted girl No More Foresaw What Might Result From Her 
   Smiles Than An Ignorant Child Would Anticipate The Consequences Of Fire 
   Falling On Grains Of Harmless-Looking Black Sand. She Had Never Seen 
   Passion Kindling and Flaming Till It Seemed like A Scorching Fire, And 
   Had Not Learned by Experience That In some Circumstances Her Smiles 
   Might Be Like Incendiary Sparks To Powder. 
     
     
     
   In Seeking To Manage Her "Difficult Case," Mrs. Arnot Should Have 
   Foreseen The Danger Of Employing Such A Fascinating Young Creature As 
   Her Assistant; But In these Matters The Wisest Often Err, And Only 
   Comprehend The Evil After It Has Occurred. Laura Was But A Child In 
   Years, Having Passed her Fifteenth Birthday Only A Few Months Previous, 
   And Haldane Seemed to The Lady Scarcely More Than A Boy. She Did Not 
   Intend That Her Niece Should Manifest Anything More Than A Little 
   Winning Kindness And Interest, Barely Enough To Keep The Young Fellow 
   From Spending His Evenings Out She Knew Not Where. He Was At Just The 
   Age When The Glitter And Tinsel Of Public Amusements Are Most 
   Attractive. She Believed that If She Could Familiarize His Mind With The 
   Real Gold And Clear Diamond Flash Of Pure Home Pleasures, And Those 
   Which Are Enjoyed in good Society, He Would Eventually Become Disgusted 
   With Gilt, Varnish, And Paste. If Laura Had Been A Very Plain Girl, She 
   Might Have Seconded mrs. Arnot'S Efforts To The Utmost Without Any 
   Unpleasant Results, Even If No Good Ones Had Followed; And It May Well 
   Be Doubted whether Any Of The Latter Would Have Ensued. Haldane'S 
   Disease Was Too Deeply Rooted, And His Tastes Vitiated to Such A Degree 
   That He Had Lost The Power To Relish Long The Simple Enjoyments Of Mrs. 
   Arnot'S Parlor. He Already Craved the Pleasures Which First Kindle And 
   Excite And Then Consume. 
     
     
     
   Laura, However, Was Not Plain And Ordinary, And The Smiles Which Were 
   Intended as Innocent Lures From Snares, Instead Of Into Them, Might Make 
   Trouble For All Concerned. Haldane Was Naturally Combustible, To Begin 
   With, And Was Now At The Most Inflammable Period Of His Life. 
     
     
     
   The Profoundest Master Of Human Nature Portrayed to The World A Romeo 
   And A Juliet, Both Mastered by A Passion Which But A Few Words And 
   Glances Had Kindled. There Are Many Romeos Who Do Not Find Their Juliets 
   So Sympathetic And Responsive, And They Usually Develop At About The Age 
   Of Haldane. Indeed, Nearly All Young Men Of Sanguine Temperaments Go 
   Through The Romeo Stage, And They Are Fortunate If They Pass It Without 
   Doing anything Especially Ridiculous Or Disastrous. These Sudden Attacks 
   Are Exceedingly Absurd To Older And Cooler Friends, But To The Victims 
   Themselves They Are Tremendously Real And Tragic For The Time Being. 
   More Hearts Are Broken Into Indefinite Fragments Before Twenty Than Ever 
   After; But, Like The Broken Bones Of The Young, They Usually Knit 
   Readily Together Again, And Are Just As Good For All Practical Purposes. 
     
     
     
   There Was Nothing Unusual In the Fact, Therefore, That Haldane Was Soon 
   Deeply Enamored with His New Acquaintance. It Was True That Laura Had 
   Given Him The Mildest And Most Innocent Kind Of Encouragement--And The 
   Result Would Probably Have Been The Same If She Had Given Him None At 
   All--But His Vanity, And What He Chose To Regard As His "Undying Love," 
   Interpreted all Her Actions, And Gave Volumes Of Meaning To A Kindly 
   Glance Or A Pleasant Word. Indeed, Before There Had Been Time To Carry 
   Out, To Any Extent, The Tactics Her Aunt Had Proposed, Symptoms Of His 
   Malady Appeared. While She Was Regarding Him Merely As One Of Her Aunt'S 
   "Cases," And A Very Hard One At Best, And Thought Of Herself As Trying 
   To Help A Little, As A Child Might Hold A Bandage Or A Medicine Phial 
   For Experienced hands, He, On The Contrary, Had Begun To Mutter To 
   Himself That She Was "The Divinest Woman God Ever Fashioned." 
     
     
     
   There Was Now No Trouble About His Spending Evenings Elsewhere, And The 
   Maiden Was Perplexed and Annoyed at Finding Her Winning Ways Far Too 
   Successful, And That The One She Barely Hoped to Keep From The 
   Vague--And To Her Mind, Horrible--Places Of Temptation, Was Becoming as 
   Adhesive As Sticking-Plaster. If She Smiled, He Smiled and Ogled far Too 
   Much In return. If She Chatted with One And Another Of The Young Men Who 
   Found Mrs. Arnot'S Parlor The Most Attractive Place Open To Them In the 
   Town, He Would Assume A Manner Designed to Be Darkly Tragical, But Which 
   To The Young Girl Had More The Appearance Of Sulking. 
     
     
     
   She Was Not So Much Of A Child As To Be Unable To Comprehend Haldane'S 
   Symptoms, And She Was Sufficiently A Woman Not To Be Excessively Angry. 
   And Yet She Was Greatly Annoyed and Perplexed. At Times His Action 
   Seemed so Absurd That She Was Glad To Escape To Her Room, That She Might 
   Give Way To Her Merriment; And Again He Would Appear So Much In earnest 
   That She Was Quite As Inclined to Cry And To Think Seriously Of Bringing 
   Her Visit To An Abrupt Termination. 
     
     
     
   While Under Mrs. Arnot'S Eye Haldane Was Distant And Circumspect, But 
   The Moment He Was Alone With Laura His Manner Became Unmistakably 
   Demonstrative. 
     
     
     
   At First She Was Disposed to Tell Her Aunt All About The Young Man'S 
   Sentimental Manner, But The Fact That It Seemed so Ridiculous Deterred 
   Her. She Still Regarded herself As A Child, And That Any One Should Be 
   Seriously In love With Her After But A Few Days' Acquaintance Seemed 
   Absurdity Itself. Her Aunt Might Think Her Very Vain For Even Imagining 
   Such A Thing, And, Perhaps, After All It Was Only Her Own Imagination. 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Haldane Has Acted queerly From The First," She Concluded, "And The 
   Best Thing I Can Do Is To Think No More About Him, And Let Auntie Manage 
   Her 'Difficult Case' Without Me. If I Am To Help In these Matters, I Had 
   Better Commence With A 'Case' That Is Not So 'Difficult.'" 
     
     
     
   She Therefore Sought To Avoid The Young Man, And Prove By Her Manner 
   That She Was Utterly Indifferent To Him, Hoping That This Course Would 
   Speedily Cure Him Of His Folly. She Would Venture Into The Parlor Only 
   When Her Aunt Or Guests Were There, And Would Then Try To Make Herself 
   Generally Agreeable, Without An Apparent Thought For Him. 
     
     
     
   While She Assured herself That She Did Not Like Him, And That He Was In 
   No Respect A Person To Be Admired and Liked, She Still Found Herself 
   Thinking about Him Quite Often. He Was Her First Recognized lover. 
   Indeed, Few Had Found Opportunity To Give More Than Admiring Glances To 
   The Little Nun, Who Thus Far Had Been Secluded almost Continuously In 
   The Safest Of All Cloisters--A Country Home. It Was A Decided novelty 
   That A Young Man, Almost Six Feet In height, Should Be Looking 
   Unutterable Things In her Direction Whenever She Was Present. She Wished 
   He Wouldn'T, But Since He Would, She Could Not Help Thinking about Him, 
   And How She Could Manage To Make Him "Behave Sensibly." 
     
     
     
   She Did Not Maintain Her Air Of Indifference Very Perfectly, However, 
   For She Had Never Been Schooled by Experience, And Was Acting Solely On 
   The Intuitions Of Her Sex. She Could Not Forbear Giving a Quick Glance 
   Occasionally To See How He Was Taking His Lesson. At Times He Was 
   Scowling and Angry, And Then She Could Maintain Her Part Without 
   Difficulty; Again He Would Look So Miserable That, Out Of Pity, She 
   Would Relent Into A Half Smile, But Immediately Reproach Herself For 
   Being "So Foolish." 
     
     
     
   Haldane'S Manner Soon Attracted mrs. Arnot'S Attention, Notwithstanding 
   His Effort To Disguise From Her His Feeling and A Little Observation On 
   The Part Of The Experienced matron Enabled her To Guess How Matters 
   Stood. While Mrs. Arnot Was Perplexed and Provoked by This New 
   Complication In haldane'S Case, She Was Too Kindly In her Nature Not To 
   Feel Sorry For Him. She Was Also So Well Versed in human Nature As To Be 
   Aware That She Could Not Sit Down And Coolly Talk Him Out Of His Folly. 
     
     
     
   Besides It Was Not Necessarily Folly. The Youth Was But Following a Law 
   Of Nature, And Following It, Too, In much The Same Manner As Had His 
   Fathers Before Him Since The Beginning Of Time. There Would Not Be Any 
   Thing Essentially Wrong In an Attachment Between These Young People, If 
   It Sprang Up Naturally; Only It Would Be Necessary To Impress Upon Them 
   The Fact That They Were _Young_, And That For Years To Come Their 
   Minds Should Be Largely Occupied with Other Matters. Haldane Certainly 
   Would Not Have Been Her Choice For Laura, But If A Strong Attachment 
   Became The Means Of Steadying Him And Of Inciting To The Formation Of A 
   Fine Character, All Might Be Well In the End. She Was Morbidly Anxious, 
   However, That Her Niece Should Not Meet With Any Such Disappointment In 
   Life As Had Fallen To Her Lot, And Should The Current Of The Young 
   Girl'S Affection Tend Steadily In his Direction She Would Deeply Regret 
   The Fact. 
     
     
     
   She Would Regret Exceedingly, Also, To Have The Young Girl'S Mind 
   Occupied by Thoughts Of Such A Nature For Years To Come. Her Education 
   Was Unfinished; She Was Very Immature, And Should Not Make So Important 
   A Choice Until She Had Seen Much More Of Society, And Time Had Been 
   Given For The Formation Of Her Tastes And Character. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Soon Concluded that It Would Be Wiser To Prevent Trouble Than 
   To Remedy It, And That Laura Had Better Return Speedily To The Safe 
   Asylum Of Her Own Home. She Could Then Suggest To Haldane That If He 
   Hoped to Win The Maiden In after Years He Must Form A Character Worthy 
   Of Her. 
     
     
     
   Had She Carried out Her Plan That Day All Might Have Turned out 
   Differently, But The Advanced in life Are Prone To Forget The 
   Impetuosity Of Youth. Haldane Was Already Ripe For A Declaration, Or, 
   More Properly, An Explosion Of His Pent-Up Feelings, And Was Only 
   Awaiting an Opportunity To Insist Upon His Own Acceptance. He Was So 
   Possessed and Absorbed by His Emotions That He Felt Sure They Would 
   Sweep Away All Obstacles. He Imagined himself Pleading His Cause In a 
   Way That Would Melt A Marble Heart; And Both Vanity And Hope Had 
   Whispered that Laura Was A Shy Maiden, Secretly Responsive To His 
   Passion, And Only Awaiting His Frank Avowal Before Showing Her Own 
   Heart. Else Why Had She Been So Kind At First? Having Won His Love, Was 
   She Not Seeking Now To Goad Him On To Its Utterance By A Sudden Change 
   Of Manner? 
     
     
     
   Thus He Reasoned, As Have Many Others Equally Blind. 
     
     
     
   On Becoming aware Of Haldane'S Passion, Mrs. Arnot Resolved to 
   Sedulously Guard Her Niece, And Prevent Any Premature And Disagreeable 
   Scenes. She Was Not Long In discovering That The Feeling, As Yet, Was 
   All On The Young Man'S Side, And Believed that By A Little Adroitness 
   She Could Manage The Affair So That No Harm Would Result To Either 
   Party. 
     
     
     
   But On The Day Following The One During Which She Had Arrived at The 
   Above Conclusions She Felt Quite Indisposed, And While At Dinner Was 
   Obliged to Succumb To One Of Her Nervous Headaches. Before Retiring To 
   Her Private Room She Directed the Waitress To Say To Such Of Her Young 
   Friends As Might Call That She Was Too Ill To See Them. 
     
     
     
   Haldane'S Expressions Of Sympathy Were Hollow, Indeed, For He Hoped 
   That, As A Result Of Her Indisposition, He Would Have Laura All To 
   Himself That Evening. With An Insinuating Smile He Said To The Young 
   Girl, After Her Aunt Had Left The Table: 
     
     
     
   "I Shall Expect You To Be Very Agreeable This Evening, To Compensate Me 
   For Mrs. Arnot'S Absence." 
     
     
     
   Laura Blushed vividly, And Was Provoked with Herself That She Did So, 
   But She Replied quietly: 
     
     
     
   "You Must Excuse Me This Evening, Mr. Haldane; I Am Sure My Aunt Will 
   Need me." 
     
     
     
   His Smile Was Succeeded by A Sudden Frown; But, As Mr. Arnot Was At The 
   Table, He Said, With Assumed carelessness: 
     
     
     
   "Then I Will Go Out And Try To Find Amusement Elsewhere." 
     
     
     
   "It Might Be Well, Young Man," Said Mr. Arnot Austerely, "To Seek For 
   Something Else Than Amusement. When I Was At Your Age I So Invested my 
   Evenings That They Now Tell In my Business." 
     
     
     
   "I Am Willing To Invest This Evening In a Way To Make It Tell Upon My 
   Future," Replied haldane, With A Meaning Glance At Laura. 
     
     
     
   Mr. Arnot Observed this Glance And The Blushing Face Of His Niece, And 
   Drew His Own Conclusions; But He Only Said Dryly: 
     
     
     
   "That Remark Is About As Inexplicable As Some Of Your Performances At 
   The Office Of Late." 
     
     
     
   Laura Soon After Excused herself And Sought A Refuge In her Aunt'S Room, 
   Which, Being Darkened, Prevented the Lady From Seeing Her Burning Cheeks 
   And General Air Of Vexation And Disquiet. Were It Not For Mrs. Arnot'S 
   Suffering Condition And Need of Rest, Laura Would Then Have Told Her Of 
   Her Trouble And Asked permission To Return Home, And She Determined to 
   Do This At The First Opportunity. Now, However, She Unselfishly Forgot 
   Herself In her Effort To Alleviate Her Aunt'S Distress. With A Strong 
   Sense Of Relief She Heard Haldane Go Out, Slamming The Front Door After 
   Him. 
     
     
     
   "Was There Ever Such An Absurd Fellow!" Thought She; "He Has Made 
   Himself Disagreeable Ever Since I Came, With His Superior Airs, As If He 
   Knew Everything, When, In fact, He Doesn'T Know Anything Well, Not Even 
   Good Manners. He Acts As If I Belonged to Him And Had No Right To Any 
   Will Or Wishes Of My Own. If He Can'T Take The Hints That I Have Given 
   He Must Be As Stupid And Blind As An Owl. In spite Of All That I Can Do 
   Or Say He Seems To Think That I Only Want An Opportunity To Show The 
   Same Ridiculous Feeling That Makes Him Appear Like A Simpleton. If I 
   Were A Young Lady In society I Should Detest A Man Who Took It For 
   Granted that I Would Fall In love With Him." 
     
     
     
   With Like Indignant Musings She Beguiled the Time, Wondering 
   Occasionally Why Her Aunt Did Not Ask Her To Go Down And Entertain The 
   Object Of Her Dread, But Secretly Thankful That She Did Not. 
     
     
     
   At Last Mrs. Arnot Said: 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Haldane Went Out, Did He Not?" 
     
     
     
   "Yes, Auntie, Some Time Ago." 
     
     
     
   "I Left My Other Bottle Of Smelling-Salts In the Parlor. I Think It Is 
   Stronger Than This. Would You Mind Getting It For Me? It'S On The 
   Mantel." 
     
     
     
   Laura Had No Difficulty In finding It In the Somewhat Dimly-Lighted 
   Drawing-Room, But As She Turned to Leave The Apartment She Saw Haldane 
   Between Her And The Door. 
     
     
     
   Before He Had Reached any Of His Garish Haunts He Had Felt Such An Utter 
   Distaste For Them In his Present Mood That He Returned. He Was Conscious 
   Of The Impulse Merely To Be Near The Object Of His Thoughts, And Also 
   Hoped that By Some Fortunate Chance He Might Still Be Able To Find Her 
   Alone. That His Return Might Be Unnoted, He Had Quietly Entered a Side 
   Door, And Was Waiting and Watching For Just Such An Opportunity As Mrs. 
   Arnot Had Unwittingly Occasioned. 
     
     
     
   Laura Tried to Brush Past, But He Intercepted her, And Said: 
     
     
     
   "No, Miss Laura, Not Till You Hear Me. You Have My Destiny In your 
   Hands." 
     
     
     
   "I Haven'T Anything Of The Kind," She Answered, In tones Of Strong 
   Vexation. Guided by Instinct, She Resolved to Be As Prosaic And 
   Matter-Of-Fact As Possible; So She Added: "I Have Only Aunt'S 
   Smelling-Salts In my Hands, And She Needs Them." 
     
     
     
   "I Need _You_ Far More Than Mrs. Arnot Needs Her Smelling-Salts," 
   He Said Tragically. 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Haldane, Such Talk Is Very Absurd," She Replied, Half Ready To Cry 
   From Nervousness And Annoyance. 
     
     
     
   "It Is Not Absurd. How Can You Trifle With The Deepest And Holiest 
   Feelings That A Man--Of Which A Man--Feels?" He Retorted passionately, 
   And Growing a Little Incoherent. 
     
     
     
   "I Don'T Know Anything about Such Feelings, And Therefore Cannot Trifle 
   With Them." 
     
     
     
   "What Did Your Blushes Mean This Evening? You Cannot Deceive Me; I Have 
   Seen The World And Know It." 
     
     
     
   "I Am Not The World. I Am Only A School-Girl, And If You Had Good Sense 
   You Would Not Talk So To Me. You Appear To Think That I Must Feel And Do 
   As You Wish. What Right Have You To Act So?" 
     
     
     
   "The Truest And Strongest Right. You Know Well That I Love You With My 
   Whole Soul. I Have Given You My Heart--All There Is Of Me. Have I Not A 
   Right To Ask Your Love In return?" 
     
     
     
   Laura Was Conscious Of A Strange Thrill As She Heard These Passionate 
   Words, For They Appeared to Echo In a Depth Of Her Nature Of Which She 
   Had Not Been Conscious Before. 
     
     
     
   The Strong And Undoubting assurance Which Possessed him Carried for A 
   Moment A Strange Mastery Over Her Mind. As He So Vehemently Asserted the 
   Only Claim Which A Man Can Urge, Her Woman'S Soul Trembled, And For A 
   Moment She Felt Almost Powerless To Resist. His Unreserved giving 
   Appeared to Require That He Should Receive Also. She Would Have Soon 
   Realized, However, That Haldane'S Attitude Was Essentially That Of An 
   Oriental Lover, Who, In his Strongest Attachments, Is Ever Prone To 
   Maintain The Imperative Mood, And To Consult His Own Heart Rather Than 
   That Of The Woman He Loves. While In laura'S Nature There Was Unusual 
   Gentleness And A Tendency To Respect And Admire Virile Force, She Was 
   Too Highly Bred in our Western Civilization Not To Resent As An Insult 
   Any Such Manifestation Of This Force As Would Make The Quest Of Her Love 
   A Demand Rather Than A Suit, After Once Recognizing Such A Spirit. She 
   Was Now Confused, However, And After An Awkward Moment Said: 
     
     
     
   "I Have Not Asked or Wished you To Give Me So Much. I Don'T Think You 
   Realize What You Are Saying. If You Would Only Remember That I Am 
   Scarcely More Than A Child You Would Not Talk So Foolishly. Please Let 
   Me Go To My Aunt." 
     
     
     
   "No, Not Till You Give Me Some Hope. Your Blushes Prove That You Are A 
   Woman." 
     
     
     
   "They Prove That I Am Excessively Annoyed and Vexed." 
     
     
     
   "Oh, Laura, After Raising So Many Hopes You Cannot--You Cannot----" 
     
     
     
   "I Haven'T Meant To Raise Any Hopes." 
     
     
     
   "Why Were You So Kind To Me At First?" 
     
     
     
   "Well, If You Must Know, My Aunt Wished me To Be. If I Had Dreamed you 
   Would Act So I Would Not Have Spoken To You." 
     
     
     
   "What Motive Could Mrs. Arnot Have Had For Such A Request?" 
     
     
     
   "I Will Tell You, And When You Know The Whole Truth You Will See How 
   Mistaken You Are, And How Greatly You Wrong Me. Aunt Wanted me To Help 
   Her Keep You Home Evenings, And Away From All Sorts Of Horrid Places To 
   Which You Were Fond Of Going." 
     
     
     
   These Words Gave Haldane A Cue Which He At Once Followed, And He Said 
   Eagerly: 
     
     
     
   "If You Will Be My Wife, I Will Do Anything You Wish. I Will Make Myself 
   Good, Great, And Renowned for Your Sake. Your Smiles Will Keep Me From 
   Every Temptation. But I Warn You That If You Cast Me Off--If You Trifle 
   With Me--I Shall Become A Reckless Man. I Shall Be Ruined. My Only 
   Impulse Will Be Self-Destruction." 
     
     
     
   Laura Was Now Thoroughly Incensed, And She Said Indignantly: 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Haldane, I Should Think You Would Be Ashamed to Talk In that 
   Manner. It'S The Same As If A Spoiled boy Should Say: If You Don'T Give 
   Me What I Wish, Right Or Wrong, I Will Do Something Dreadful. If I Ever 
   Do Love A Man, It Will Be One That I Can Look Up To And Respect, And Not 
   One Who Must Be Coaxed and Bribed to Give Up Disgusting Vices. If You Do 
   Not Open That Door I Will Call Uncle." 
     
     
     
   The Door Opened, And Mr. Arnot Entered with A Heavy Frown Upon His Brow. 
   
   
   
   Chapter VI ("Gloomy Grandeur") 
   Mr. Arnot'S Library Was On The Side Of The Hall Opposite To The 
   Drawing-Room. Though He Had Been Deeply Intent Upon His Writing, He At 
   Last Became Conscious That There Were Some Persons In the Parlor Who 
   Were Talking In an Unusual Manner, And He Soon Distinguished the Voice 
   Of His Niece. Haldane'S Words, Manner, And Glances At The Dinner-Table 
   At Once Recurred to Him, And Stepping Silently To The Drawing-Room Door, 
   He Heard The Latter Part Of The Colloquy Narrated in the Previous 
   Chapter. He Was Both Amused and Angry, And While Relieved to Find That 
   His Niece Was Indulging In no "Sentimental Nonsense," He Had Not A 
   Particle Of Sympathy Or Charity For Haldane, And He Determined to Give 
   The Young Man A "Lesson That Would Not Soon Be Forgotten." 
     
     
     
   "What Is The Meaning Of This Ridiculous Scene?" He Demanded sternly. 
   "What Have You Been Saying To This Child?" 
     
     
     
   Haldane At First Had Been Much Abashed by The Entrance Of His Employer; 
   But His Tone And Manner Stung The Young Fellow Into Instant Anger, And 
   He Replied haughtily: 
     
     
     
   "She Is Not A Child, And What I Have Said Concerns Miss Romeyn Only." 
     
     
     
   "Ah, Indeed! I Have No Right To Protect My Niece In my Own House!" 
     
     
     
   "My Intentions Toward Miss Romeyn Are Entirely Honorable, And There Is 
   No Occasion For Protection." 
     
     
     
   Reassured by Her Uncle'S Presence, Laura'S Nervous Apprehension Began To 
   Give Place To Something Like Pity For The Youth, Who Had Assumed an 
   Attitude Befitting High Tragedy, And Toward Whom She Felt That She Had 
   Been A Little Harsh. Now That He Was Confronted by One Who Was Disposed 
   To Be Still More Harsh, Womanlike, She Was Inclined to Take His Part. 
   She Would Be Sorry To Have Him Come To An Open Rupture With His Employer 
   On Her Account, So She Said Eagerly: 
     
     
     
   "Please, Uncle, Do Me The Favor Of Letting The Whole Matter Drop. Mr. 
   Haldane Has Seen His Mistake By This Time. I Am Going Home To-Morrow, 
   And The Affair Is Too Absurd To Make Any One Any More Trouble." 
     
     
     
   Before He Could Answer, Mrs. Arnot, Hearing Their Voices, And Surmising 
   The Trouble Which She Had Hoped to Prevent, Now Appeared also, And By 
   Her Good Sense And Tact Brought The Disagreeable Scene To A Speedy 
   Close. 
     
     
     
   "Laura, My Dear," She Said Quietly, "Go Up To My Room, And I Will Join 
   You There Soon." The Young Girl Gladly Obeyed. 
     
     
     
   There Were Times When Mrs. Arnot Controlled her Strong-Willed husband In 
   A Manner That Seemed scarcely To Be Reconciled with His Dictatorial 
   Habits. This Fact Might Be Explained in part By Her Wealth, Of Which He 
   Had The Use, But Which She Still Controlled, But More Truly By Her 
   Innate Superiority, Which Ever Gives Supremacy To The Nobler And 
   Stronger Mind When Aroused. 
     
     
     
   Mr. Arnot Had Become Suddenly And Vindictively Angry With His Clerk, 
   Who, Instead Of Being Overwhelmed with Awe And Shame At His Unexpected 
   Appearance, Was Haughty And Even Defiant. One Of The Strongest Impulses 
   Of This Man Was To Crush Out Of Those In his Employ A Spirit Of 
   Independence And Individual Self-Assertion. The Idea Of A Part Of His 
   Business Machinery Making Such A Jarring Tumult In his Own House! He 
   Proposed to Instantly Cast Away The Cause Of Friction, And Insert A More 
   Stolid Human Cog-Wheel In haldane'S Place. 
     
     
     
   But When His Wife Said, In a Tone Which She Rarely Used: 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Arnot, Before Anything Further Is Said Upon This Matter, I Would 
   Like To See You In your Library"--He Followed her Without A Word. 
     
     
     
   Before The Library Door Closed, However, He Could Not Forbear Snarling. 
     
     
     
   "I Told You That Your Having This Big Spoiled boy As An Inmate Of The 
   House Would Not Work Well." 
     
     
     
   "He Has Been Offering Himself To Laura, Has He Not?" She Said Quietly. 
     
     
     
   "I Suppose That Is The Way In which You Would Explain His Absurd, 
   Maudlin Words. A Pitiful Offer It Was, Which She, Like A Sensible Girl, 
   Declined without Thanks." 
     
     
     
   "What Course Do You Propose To Take Toward Haldane?" 
     
     
     
   "I Was On The Point Of Sending Him Home To His Mother, And Of Suggesting 
   That He Remain With Her Till He Becomes Something More Than A Fast, 
   Foolish Boy. As Yet I See No Reason For Acting Differently." 
     
     
     
   "On Just What Grounds Do You Propose To Discharge Him?" 
     
     
     
   "Has He Not Given Sufficient Cause This Evening In his Persecution Of 
   Laura And His Impudence To Me?" 
     
     
     
   "Thomas, You Forget That While Young Haldane Is Your Clerk, He Enjoys A 
   Social Position Quite Equal To That Which A Son Of Ours Would Possess, 
   Did We Have One. Though His Course Toward Laura Has Been Crude And 
   Boyish, I Have Yet To Learn That There Has Been Anything Dishonorable. 
   Laura Is To Us A Child; To Him She Seems A Very Pretty And Attractive 
   Girl, And His Sudden Passion For Her Is, Perhaps, One Of The Most 
   Natural Things In the World. Besides, An Affair Of This Kind Should Be 
   Managed quietly And Wisely, And Not With Answering Passion. You Are 
   Angry Now; You Will See That I Am Right In the Morning. At All Events, 
   The Name Of This Innocent Girl, My Sister'S Child, Must Not Be Bandied 
   About In the Gossip Of The Town. Among Young Men Haldane Passes For A 
   Young Man. Do You Wish To Have It The Town Talk That He Has Been 
   Discharged because He Ventured to Compliment Your Niece With The Offer 
   Of His Hand? That He Has Been Premature And Rash Is Chiefly The Fault Of 
   His Years And Temperament; But No Serious Trouble Need follow Unless We 
   Make It Ourselves. Laura Will Return Home In a Day Or Two, And If The 
   Young Fellow Is Dealt With Wisely And Kindly, This Episode May Do Much 
   Toward Making a Sensible Man Of Him. If You Abruptly Discharge Him, 
   People Will Imagine Tenfold More Than Has Occurred, And They May Surmise 
   Positive Evil." 
     
     
     
   "Well, Well, Have It Your Own Way," Said Her Husband Impatiently. "Of 
   Course, I Do Not Wish That Laura Should Become The Theme Of Scandal. But 
   As For This Young Firebrand Of A Haldane, There Must Be A Decided change 
   In Him. I Cannot Bother With Him Much Longer." 
     
     
     
   "I Think I Can Manage Him. At Any Rate, Please Make No Change That Can 
   Seem Connected with This Affair. If You Would Also Exercise A Little 
   Kindness And Forbearance, I Do Not Think You Would Ever Have Cause To 
   Regret It." 
     
     
     
   "My Office Is Not An Asylum For Incapables, Lovesick Swains, And Fast 
   Boys. It'S A Place Of Business, And If Young Haldane Can'T Realize This, 
   There Are Plenty Who Can." 
     
     
     
   "As A Favor To Me, I Will Ask You To Bear With Him As Long As Possible. 
   Can You Not Send Him To Your Factory Near New York On Some Errand? New 
   Scenes Will Divert His Thoughts, And Sudden And Acute Attacks, Like His, 
   Usually Do Not Last Very Long." 
     
     
     
   "Well, Well, I'Ll See." 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Returned to The Parlor, But Haldane Was No Longer There. She 
   Went To His Room, But, Though He Was Within, She Could Obtain No 
   Response To Her Knocking, Or To The Kind Tone In which She Spoke His 
   Name. She Sighed, But Thought That Perhaps He Would Be Calmer And More 
   Open To Reason On The Morrow, And, Therefore, Returned to Her Own 
   Apartment. Indeed, She Was Glad To Do So, For In her Ill And Suffering 
   Condition The Strain Had Already Been Too Great. 
     
     
     
   She Found Laura Tearful And Troubled, And Could Not Do Less Than Listen 
   To Her Story. 
     
     
     
   "Do You Think I Have Done Anything Wrong, Auntie?" Asked the Girl In 
   Deep Anxiety. 
     
     
     
   "No, Dear, I Think You Have Acted very Sensibly. I Wish I Could Have 
   Foreseen The Trouble Sooner, And Saved you Both From A Disagreeable 
   Experience." 
     
     
     
   "But Uncle Won'T Discharge Mr. Haldane On My Account, Will He?" She 
   Continued with Almost Equal Solicitude. 
     
     
     
   "Certainly Not. Egbert Has Not Done Anything That Should Cause His 
   Dismissal. I Think That The Only Result Will Be To Teach You Both That 
   These Are Matters Which Should Be Left To Future Years." 
     
     
     
   "I'M Glad They Are Distant, For I Had No Idea That Love Affairs Were So 
   Intensely Disagreeable." 
     
     
     
   Her Aunt Smiled, And After A Little Time The Young Girl Departed to Her 
   Rest Quite Comforted and Reassured. 
     
     
     
   The Next Morning Mrs. Arnot Was Too Ill To Appear At Breakfast, And Her 
   Niece Would Not Venture Down Alone. Haldane And His Employer Sat Down 
   Together In grim Silence, And, After A Cup Of Coffee Only, The Former 
   Abruptly Excused himself And Went To The Office. 
     
     
     
   As Might Have Been Expected, The Young Man Had Passed a Restless Night, 
   During Which All Sorts Of Rash, Wild Purposes Surged through His Mind. 
   At First He Meditated hiding His Grief And Humiliation In some "Far 
   Distant Clime"; But The Thought Occurred to Him After A Little Time That 
   This Would Be Spiting Himself More Than Any One Else. His Next Impulse 
   Was To Leave The House Of His "Insulting Employer" Forever; But As He 
   Was About To Depart, He Remembered that He Happened to Have Scarcely A 
   Dollar In his Pocket, And Therefore Concluded to Wait Till He Had Drawn 
   His Pay, Or Could Write To His Mother For Funds. Then, As His Anger 
   Subsided, A Sense Of Loss And Disappointment Overwhelmed him, And For A 
   Long Time He Sobbed like A Brokenhearted child. After This Natural 
   Expression Of Grief He Felt Better, And Became Able To Think 
   Connectedly. He Finally Resolved that He Would Become "Famous," And Rise 
   In "Gloomy Grandeur" Till He Towered far Above His Fellow Men. He Would 
   Pierce This Obdurate Maiden'S Heart With Poignant But Unavailing Regret 
   That She Had Missed the One Great Opportunity Of Her Life. He Gave But 
   Slight And Vague Consideration To The Methods By Which He Would Achieve 
   The Renown Which Would Overshadow Laura'S Life; But, Having Resolutely 
   Adopted the Purpose With A Few Tragic Gestures And Some Obscure 
   Fragmentary Utterances, He Felt Consoled and Was Able To Obtain A Little 
   Sleep. 
     
     
     
   The Routine Duties At The Office On The Following Day Did Not Promise 
   Very Much, But He Went Through Them In a Kind Of Grim, Vindictive 
   Manner, As If Resolving To Set His Foot On All Obstacles. He Would 
   "Suffer In silence And Give No Sign" Till The Hour Came When He Could 
   Flash Out Upon The World. But As The Day Declined, He Found The _Role_ 
   Of "Gloomy Grandeur" Rather Heavy, And He Became Conscious Of The Fact 
   That He Had Scarcely Eaten Anything For Nearly Twenty-Four Hours. 
   Another Impulse Began To Make Itself Felt--That Of Fulfilling His 
   Threat And Torturing Miss Romeyn By Going To Ruin. With Alluring 
   Seductiveness The Thought Insinuated itself Into His Mind That One Of 
   The First Steps In the Tragedy Might Be A Game And Wine Supper, And His 
   Growing Hunger Made This Mode Of Revenge More Attractive Than Cold And 
   Austere Ambition. 
     
     
     
   But Laura'S Words Concerning "Disgusting Vices" Recurred to Him With All 
   And More Than Their First Stinging Plainness, And He Put The Impulse 
   Away With A Gesture And Tragic Expression Of Face That Struck A Sere And 
   Withered bookkeeper, Who Happened at That Moment To Look Up, As So Queer 
   That He Feared the Young Man Was Becoming Demented. 
     
     
     
   Haldane Concluded--And With Some Reason In view Of Laura'S Romantic 
   Nature--That Only A Career Of Gloomy Grandeur And High Renown Would 
   Impress The Maiden Whom Yesterday He Proposed to Make Happy Forever, But 
   To-Day To Blight With Regret Like A "Worm I' The Bud." He Already Had A 
   Vague Presentiment That Such A _Role_ Would Often Mortify His Tastes And 
   Inclinations Most Dismally; And Yet, What Had He Henceforth To Do With 
   Pleasure? But If, After He Had Practiced the Austerity Of An Anchorite, 
   She Should Forget Him, Marry Another, And Be Happy! The Thought Was 
   Excruciating. O, That Awful "Another"! He Is The Fiend That Drags 
   Disappointed lovers Down To The Lowest Depth Of Their Tortures. If Laura 
   Had Had A Previous Favorite, Haldane Would Have Been Most Happy To Have 
   Her Meet "Another" In himself; But Now This Vague But Surely Coming 
   Rival Of The Future Sent Alternately Cold Chills And Molten Fire Through 
   His Veins. 
     
     
     
   He Was Awakened from Such Painful Reveries By A Summons To His 
   Employer'S Private Office. 
     
   
   
   
   Chapter VII (Birds Of Prey) 
   Mr. Arnot In his Widely Extended business Owned several Factories, And 
   In The Vicinity Of One, Located at A Suburb Of New York, There Were No 
   Banking Facilities. It Was, Therefore, His Custom At Stated times To 
   Draw From His Bank At Hillaton Such Amounts In currency As Were Needed 
   To Pay Those In his Employ At The Place Indicated, And Send The Money 
   Thither By One Of His Clerks. Upon The Present Occasion, In compliance 
   With His Wife'S Request, He Decided to Send Haldane. He Had No 
   Hesitation In doing This, As The Errand Was One That Required nothing 
   More Than Honesty And A Little Prudence. 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Haldane," Said His Employer, In tones Somewhat Less Cold And Formal 
   Than Those Habitual With Him, "We Will Let Bygones Be Bygones. I Am 
   Inclined to Think That Hereafter You Will Be Disposed to Give Your 
   Thoughts More Fully To Business, As A Man Should Who Proposes To Amount 
   To Anything In the World. In these Envelopes Are One Thousand Dollars In 
   Currency. I Wish You To Place Them Securely In your Breast-Pockets, And 
   Take The Five-Thirty Train To New York, And From Thence Early To-Morrow 
   Go Out On The Long Island Road To A Little Station Called arnotville, 
   And Give These Packages To Mr. Black, The Agent In charge Of My Factory 
   There. Take His Receipt, And Report To Me To-Morrow Evening. With That 
   Amount Of Money Upon Your Person You Will Perceive The Necessity Of 
   Prudence And Care. Here Is A Check Paying Your Salary For The Past 
   Month. The Cashier Will Give You Currency For It. Report Your Expenses 
   On Your Return, And They Will Be Paid. As The Time Is Limited, Perhaps 
   You Can Get Some Lunch At Or Near The Depot." 
     
     
     
   "I Prefer To Do So," Said Haldane, Promptly, "And Will Try To Perform 
   The Business To Your Satisfaction." 
     
     
     
   Mr. Arnot Nodded a Cool Dismissal, And Haldane Started for A 
   Hotel-Restaurant Near The Depot With A Step Entirely Too Quick And 
   Elastic For One Who Must Walk Henceforth In the Shadow Of "Bitter 
   Memories And Dark Disappointment." The Exercise Brought Color To His 
   Cheek, And There Certainly Was A Sparkle In his Dark Eyes. It Could Not 
   Be Hope, For He Had Assured himself Again And Again That "Hope Was Dead 
   In His Heart." It Might Have Been Caused after His Long Fast By The 
   Anticipation Of A Lunch At The Depot And A _Petit Souper_ In the 
   City, And The Thought Of Washing Both Down With A Glass Of Wine, Or 
   Possibly With Several. The Relish And Complacency With Which His Mind 
   Dwelt On This Prospect Struck Haldane As Rather Incongruous In a Being 
   As Blighted as He Supposed himself To Be. With His Youth, Health, And 
   Unusually Good Digestion He Would Find No Little Difficulty In carrying 
   Out The "Gloomy Grandeur" Scheme, And He Began To Grow Conscious Of The 
   Fact. 
     
     
     
   Indeed, In response To A Law Of Nature, He Was Already Inclined to React 
   From His Unwonted depression Into Reckless Hilarity. Impulse And 
   Inclination Were His Controlling Forces, And He Was Accustomed to Give 
   Himself Up To Them Without Much Effort At Self-Restraint. And Yet He 
   Sought To Imagine Himself Consistent, So That He Could Maintain His 
   Self-Approval. 
     
     
     
   "I Will Hide My Despair With Laughter," He Muttered; "The World Cannot 
   Know That It Is Hollow, And But A Mask Against Its Vulgar Curiosity." 
     
     
     
   A Good Cold Lunch And A Cup Of Coffee--Which He Could Have Obtained at 
   Once At The Hotel Near The Depot--Would Not Answer For This Victim Of 
   Despair. Some Extra Delicacies, Which Required time For Preparation, 
   Were Ordered. In the Meantime He Went To The Bar For An "Appetizer," As 
   He Termed it. Here He Met An Acquaintance Among The Loungers Present, 
   And, Of Course, Asked him To Take A Social Glass Also. This Personage 
   Complied in a Manner Peculiarly Felicitous, And In such A Way As To Give 
   The Impression That His Acceptance Of The Courtesy Was A Compliment To 
   Haldane. Much Practice Had Made Him Perfect In this Art, And The Number 
   Of Drinks That He Was Able To Secure Gratis In the Course Of A Year By 
   Being always On Hand And By Maintaining an Air Of Slight Superiority, 
   Combined with An Appearance Of _Bonhomie_ And Readiness To Be Social, 
   Would Have Made A Remarkable Sum Total. 
     
     
     
   Before Their Glasses Clinked together He Said, With The Off-Handed 
   Courtesy Indigenous To Bar-Rooms, Where Acquaintances Are Made With So 
   Little Trouble And Ceremony: 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Haldane, My Friends From New York, Mr. Van Wink And Mr. Ketchem." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Turned and Saw Two Young Men Standing Conveniently Near, Who 
   Were Dressed faultlessly In the Style Of The Day. There Was Nothing In 
   Their Appearance To Indicate That They Did Not Reside On Fifth Avenue, 
   And, Indeed, They May Have Had Rooms On That Fashionable Street. 
     
     
     
   Messrs. Van Wink And Ketchem Had Also A Certain Air Of Superiority, And 
   They Shook Hands With Haldane In a Way That Implied: 
     
     
     
   "While We Are Metropolitan Men, We Recognize In you An Extraordinarily 
   Fine Specimen Of The Provincial." And The Young Man Was Not Indifferent 
   To Their Unspoken Flattery. He At Once Invited them Also To State To The 
   Smirking Bartender Their Preferences Among The Liquid Compounds Before 
   Them, And Soon Four Glasses Clinked together. 
     
     
     
   With Fine And Thoughtful Courtesy They Had Chosen The Same Mixture That 
   He Had Ordered for Himself, And Surely Some Of The Milk Of Human 
   Kindness Must Have Been Infused in the Punches Which They Imbibed, For 
   Messrs. Van Wink And Ketchem Seemed to Grow Very Friendly Toward 
   Haldane. Perhaps Taking a Drink With A Man Inspired these Worthies With 
   A Regard For Him Similar To That Which The Social Eating Of Bread 
   Creates Within The Breasts Of Bedouins, Who, As Travellers Assert, Will 
   Protect With Their Lives A Stranger That Has Sat At Their Board; But Rob 
   And Murder, As A Matter Of Course, All Who Have Not Enjoyed that 
   Distinction. Whatever May Have Been The Cause, The Stylish Men From The 
   City Were Evidently Pleased with Haldane, And They Delicately Suggested 
   That He Was Such An Unusually Clever Fellow That They Were Willing To 
   Know Him Better. 
     
     
     
   "I Assure You, Mr. Haldane," Protested mr. Van Wink, "Our Meeting Is An 
   Unexpected pleasure. Having Completed our Business In town, Time Was 
   Hanging Heavily On Our Hands, And It Is Still A Full Half-Hour Before 
   The Train Leaves." 
     
     
     
   "Let Us Drink Again To Further Acquaintance," Said Mr. Ketchem 
   Cordially, Evincing a Decided disposition To Be Friendly; "Mr. Haldane 
   Is In new York Occasionally, And We Would Be Glad To Meet Him And Help 
   Him Pass A Pleasant Hour There, As He Is Enlivening The Present Hour For 
   Us." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Was Not Cautious By Nature, And Had Been Predisposed by Training 
   To Regard All Flattering attention And Interest As Due To The Favorable 
   Impression Which He Supposed himself To Make Invariably Upon Those Whose 
   Judgment Was Worth Anything. It Is True There Had Been One Marked and 
   Humiliating Exception. But The Consoling Thought Now Flashed into His 
   Mind That, Perhaps, Miss Romeyn Was, As She Asserted, But A Mere 
   "Child," And Incapable Of Appreciating Him. The Influence Of The Punch 
   He Had Drank And The Immediate And Friendly Interest Manifested by These 
   Gentlemen Who Knew The World, Gave A Plausible Coloring To This 
   Explanation Of Her Conduct. After All, Was He Not Judging Her Too 
   Harshly? She Had Not Realized whom She Had Refused, And When She Grew Up 
   In Mind As Well As In form She Might Be Glad To Act Very Differently. 
   "But I May Choose To Act Differently Also," Was His Haughty Mental 
   Conclusion. 
     
     
     
   This Self-Communion Took Place While The Still Smirking Bartender Was 
   Mixing The Decoctions Ordered by The Cordial And Generous Mr. Ketchem. A 
   Moment Later Four Glasses Clinked together, And Haldane'S First 
   Acquaintance--The Young Man With The Air Of Slight But Urbane 
   Superiority--Felicitated himself That He Had "Made Two Free Drinks" 
   Within A Brief Space Of Time. 
     
     
     
   The Effect Of The Liquor Upon Haldane After His Long Fast Was Far 
   Greater Than If It Had Been Taken After A Hearty Meal, And He Began To 
   Reciprocate The Friendliness Of The Strangers With Increasing Interest. 
     
     
     
   "Gentlemen," Said He, "Our Meeting Is One Of Those Fortunate Incidents 
   Which Promise Much More Pleasure To Come. I Have Ordered a Little Lunch 
   In The Dining-Room. It Will Take But A Moment For The Waiters To Add 
   Enough For Three More, And Then We Will Ride Into The City Together, For 
   My Business Takes Me There This Evening also." 
     
     
     
   "I Declare," Exclaimed mr. Van Wink In a Tone Of Self-Gratulation, "Were 
   I Piously Inclined i Should Be Tempted to Call Our Meeting Quite 
   Providential. But If We Lunch With You It Must Be On Condition That You 
   Take A Little Supper With Us At The Brunswick After We Arrive In town." 
     
     
     
   "No One Could Object To Such Agreeable Terms," Cried haldane; "Come, Let 
   Us Adjourn To The Dining-Room. By The Way, Mr. Bartender, Send Us A 
   Bottle Of Your Best Claret." 
     
     
     
   The Young Man Who An Hour Before Had Regarded himself As Cruelly 
   Blighted for Life, Was Quite Successful In "Hiding His Despair With 
   Laughter." Indeed, From Its Loudness And Frequency, Undue Exhilaration 
   Was Suggested rather Than A "Secret Sorrow." It Gave Him A Fine Sense Of 
   Power And Of His Manly Estate To See The Waiters Bustling around At His 
   Bidding, And To Remember That He Was The Host Of Three Gentlemen, Who, 
   While Very Superior In style, And Evidently Possessed of Wealth, Still 
   Recognized in him An Equal With Whom They Were Glad To Spend A Social 
   Hour. 
     
     
     
   Scarcely Ever Before Had He Met Any One Who Appreciated him As Fully As 
   Did Messrs. Van Wink And Ketchem, And Their Courteous Deference 
   Confirmed a View Which He Had Long Held, That Only In the Large Sphere 
   Of The Metropolis Could He Find His True Level And Most Congenial 
   Companionships. These Young Men Had A Style About Them Which Provincials 
   Could Not Imitate. Even The Superior Gentleman Who Introduced them To 
   Him Had A Slightly Dimmed and Tarnished appearance As He Sat Beside His 
   Friends. There Was An Immaculate Finish And Newness About All Their 
   Appointments--Not A Speck Upon Their Linen, Nor A Grain Of Dust Upon 
   Their Broadcloth And Polished boots. If The Theory Be True That 
   Character Is Shown In dress, These Men, Outwardly So Spotless, Must Be 
   Worthy Of The Confidence With Which They Had Inspired their New 
   Acquaintance. They Suggested two Bright Coins Just Struck From The Mint, 
   And "They Have The Ring Of True Metal," Thought Haldane. 
     
     
     
   It Seemed to The Young Men That They Had Just Fairly Commenced to Enjoy 
   Their Lunch, When A Prolonged shriek Of A Locomotive, Dying away In the 
   Distance, Awakened them To A Sense Of The Flight Of Time. Hastily 
   Pulling Out His Watch, Haldane Exclaimed with An Oath: 
     
     
     
   "There Goes Our Train." 
     
     
     
   Messrs. Van Wink And Ketchem Were Apparently Much Concerned. 
     
     
     
   "Haldane," They Exclaimed, "You Are Much Too Entertaining a Fellow For 
   One To Meet When There'S A Train To Be Caught." 
     
     
     
   "This Is A Serious Matter For Me," Said Haldane, Somewhat Sobered by The 
   Thought Of Mr. Arnot'S Wrath; "I Had Important Business In town." 
     
     
     
   "Can It Not Be Arranged by Telegraph?" Asked mr. Van Wink In a Tone Of 
   Kindly Solicitude. 
     
     
     
   "One Can'T Send Money By Telegraph. No; I Must Go Myself." 
     
     
     
   The Eyes Of Haldane'S Three Guests Met For A Second In a Way That 
   Indicated the Confirmnation Of Something In their Minds, And Yet So 
   Evanescent Was This Glance Of Intelligence That A Cool, Close Observer 
   Would Scarcely Have Detected it, Much Less Their Flushed and Excited 
   Host. 
     
     
     
   "Don'T Worry, Haldane," Said His First Acquaintance; "There Is An 
   Owl-Train Along At Eleven To-Night, And You Can Mail Your Check Or Draft 
   On That If You Do Not Care To Travel At Such An Unearthly Hour." 
     
     
     
   "Oh, There Is A Late Train!" Cried the Young Man, Much Relieved. "Then 
   I'M All Right. I Am Obliged to Go Myself, As The Funds I Carry Are In 
   Such A Shape That I Cannot Mail Them." 
     
     
     
   Again The Eyes Of His Guests Met With A Furtive Gleam Of Satisfaction. 
     
     
     
   Now That Haldane Felt Himself Safely Out Of His Dilemma, He Began To Be 
   Solicitous About His Companions. 
     
     
     
   "I Fear," He Said, "That My Poor Courtesy Can Make But Small Amends For 
   The Loss Of Your Train." 
     
     
     
   "Well, Haldane," Said Mr. Ketchem, With Great Apparent Candor, "I Speak 
   For Myself When I Say That I Would Regret Losing This Train Under Most 
   Circumstances, But With The Prospect Of A Social Evening Together I Can 
   Scarcely Say That I Do." 
     
     
     
   "I, Too," Cried mr. Van Wink, "Am Inclined to Regard Our Loss Of The 
   Train As A Happy Freak Of Fortune. Let Us Take The Owl-Train, Also, 
   Ketchem, And Make A Jovial Night Of It With Mr. Haldane." 
     
     
     
   "Fill Up Your Glasses, And We'Ll Drink To A Jolly Night," Cried haldane, 
   And All Complied with Wonderful Zest And Unanimity. The Host, However, 
   Was Too Excited and Preoccupied to Note That While Mr. Van Wink And Mr. 
   Ketchem Were Always Ready To Have Their Glasses Filled, They Never 
   Drained them Very Low; And Thus It Happened that He And The Slightly 
   Superior Gentleman Who Made Free Drinks One Of The Chief Objects Of 
   Existence Shared most Of The Bottle Of Wine Between Them. 
     
     
     
   As The Young Men Rose From The Lunch Table Haldane Called this 
   Individual Aside, And Said: 
     
     
     
   "Harker, I Want You To Help A Fellow Out Of A Scrape. You Must Know That 
   I Was Expected to Leave Town On The Five-Thirty Train. I Do Not Care To 
   Be Seen In the Public Rooms, For Old Cast-Iron Arnot Might Make A Row 
   About My Delay, Even Though It Will Make No Difference In his Business. 
   Please Engage A Private Room, Where We Can Have A Bottle Of Wine And A 
   Quiet Game Of Cards, And No One Be The Wiser." 
     
     
     
   "Certainly--Nothing Easier In the World--I Know Just The 
   Room--Cosey--Off One Side--Wait A Moment, Gentlemen." 
     
     
     
   It Seemed but A Moment Before He Returned and Led them, Preceded by A 
   Bell-Boy, To Just Such An Apartment As He Had Described. Though The 
   Evening Was Mild, A Fire Was Lighted in the Grate, And As It Kindled it 
   Combined with The Other Appointments To Give The Apartment An Air Of 
   Luxurious Comfort. 
     
     
     
   "Bring Us A Bottle Of Sherry," Said Haldane To The Bell-Boy. 
     
     
     
   "Also A Pack Of Cards, Some Fine Old Brandy And Cigars, And Charge To 
   Me," Said Mr. Ketchem; "I Wish To Have My Part In this Entertainment. 
   Come, Harker, Take A Seat." 
     
     
     
   "Desperately Sorry I Can'T Spend The Evening With You," Said This 
   Sagacious Personage, Who Realized with Extreme Regret That Not Even For 
   The Prospect Of Unlimited free Potations Could He Afford To Risk The 
   Loss Of His Eminent Respectability, Which He Regarded as A Capitalist 
   Does His Principal, Something That Must Be Drawn Upon Charily. Mr. 
   Harker Knew That His Mission Was Ended, And, In spite Of The Order For 
   The Sherry And Brandy, He Had Sufficient Strength Of Mind To Retire. In 
   Delicate Business Transactions Like The One Under Consideration He Made 
   It A Point To Have Another Engagement When Matters Got About As Far 
   Along As They Now Were In haldane'S Case. If Anything Unpleasant 
   Occurred between Parties Whom He Introduced to Each Other, And He Was 
   Summoned as A Witness, He Grew So Exceedingly Dignified and Superior In 
   His Bearing That Every One Felt Like Asking His Pardon For Their 
   Suspicions. He Always Proved an _Alibi_, And Left The Court-Room 
   With The Air Of An Injured man. As People, However, Became Familiar With 
   His Haunts And Habits, There Was An Increasing Number Who Regarded his 
   Virtuous Assumptions And Professions Of Ignorance In respect To Certain 
   Cases Of Swindling With Incredulous Smiles. 
     
     
     
   Mr. Barker, However, Could Not Tear Himself Away Till The Brandy And 
   Sherry Appeared, And, After Paying His Respects To Both, Went To Keep 
   His Engagement, Which Consisted in lounging about Another Hotel On The 
   Other Side Of The Depot. 
     
     
     
   Messrs. Van Wink And Ketchem, Of Course, Both Knew How To Deal The 
   Cards, And With Apologetic Laughter The Young Men Put Up Small Stakes At 
   First, Just To Give Zest To The Amusement. Haldane Lost The First Game, 
   Won The Second And Third, Lost Again, Had Streaks Of Good And Bad Luck 
   So Skilfully Intermingled that The Thought Often Occurred to Him: 
     
     
     
   "These Fellows Play As Fair A Game As I Ever Saw And Know How To Win And 
   Lose Money Like Gentlemen." 
     
     
     
   But These High-Toned "Gentlemen" Always Managed to Keep The Bottle Of 
   Sherry Near Him, And When They Lost They Would Good-Naturedly And 
   Hilariously Propose That They Take A Drink. Haldane Always Complied, But 
   While He Drank They Only Sipped. 
     
     
     
   As The Evening Waned the Excitement Of The Infatuated youth Deepened. 
   The Heat Of The Room And The Fumes Of Tobacco Combined with The Liquor 
   To Unman Him And Intensify The Natural Recklessness Of His Character. 
     
     
     
   There Is, Probably, No Abnormal Passion That So Completely Masters Its 
   Victims As That For Gambling; And As Haldane Won, Lost, And Won Again, 
   He Became So Absorbed as To Be Unconscious Of The Flight Of Time And All 
   Things Else. But As He Lost Self-Control, As He Half-Unconsciously Put 
   His Glass To His Lips With Increasing Frequency, His Companions Grew 
   Cooler And More Wary. Their Eyes No Longer Beamed good-Naturedly Upon 
   Their Victim, But Began To Emit The Eager, Cruel Gleams Of Some Bird Of 
   Prey. 
     
     
     
   But They Still Managed the Affair With Consummate Skill. Their Aim Was 
   To Excite Haldane To The Last Degree Of Recklessness, And Yet Keep Him 
   Sufficiently Sober For Further Playing. From Harker They Had Learned 
   That Mr. Arnot Had Probably Sent Him In the Place Of The Clerk Usually 
   Employed; And, If So, It Was Quite Certain That He Had A Large Sum Of 
   Money Upon His Person. Haldane'S Words On Becoming aware That He Had 
   Missed his Train Confirmed their Surmises, And It Was Now Their Object 
   To Beguile Him Into A Condition Which Would Make Him Capable Of Risking 
   His Employer'S Funds. They Also Wished that He Should Remain 
   Sufficiently Sober To Be Responsible For This Act, And To Remember, As 
   He Recalled the Circumstances, That It Was His Own Act. Therefore They 
   Kept The Brandy Beyond His Reach; That Was Not Yet Needed. 
     
     
     
   By The Time The Evening Was Half Over, Haldane Found That, Although He 
   Had Apparently Won Considerable Money, He Had Lost More, And That Not A 
   Penny Of His Own Funds Remained. With An Angry Oath He Stated the Fact 
   To His Companions. 
     
     
     
   "That'S Unfortunate," Said Mr. Ketchem, Sympathetically. "There Are 
   Nearly Two Hours Yet Before The Train Leaves, And With Your Disposition 
   Toward Good Luck Tonight You Could Clean Us Out By That Time, And Would 
   Have To Lend Us Enough To Pay Our Fares To New York." 
     
     
     
   "It'S A Pity To Give Up Our Sport Now That We Have Just Got Warmed up To 
   It," Added mr. Van Wink, Suggestively. "Haven'T You Some Funds About You 
   That You Can Borrow For The Evening--Just Enough To Keep The Game Going, 
   You Know?" 
     
     
     
   Haldane Hesitated. He Was Not So Far Gone But That Conscience Entered an 
   Emphatic Protest. The Trouble Was, However, That He Had Never Formed the 
   Habit Of Obeying Conscience, Even When Perfectly Sober. Another 
   Influence Of The Past Also Proved most Disastrous. His Mother'S Weakness 
   Now Made Him Weak. In permitting Him To Take Her Money Without Asking, 
   She Had Undermined the Instinct Of Integrity Which In this Giddy Moment 
   Of Temptation Might Have Saved him. If He From Childhood Had Been Taught 
   That The Property Of Others Was Sacred, The Very Gravity Of The Crime To 
   Which He Now Was Urged would Have Sobered and Awakened him To His 
   Danger. But His Sense Of Wrong In this Had Been Blunted, And There Was 
   No Very Strong Repugnance Toward The Suggestion. 
     
     
     
   Moreover, His Brain Was Confused and Excited to The Last Degree Possible 
   In One Who Still Continued sane And Responsible. Indeed, It Would Be 
   Difficult To Say How Far He Was Responsible At This Supreme Moment Of 
   Danger. He Certainly Had Drank So Much As To Be Unable To Realize The 
   Consequences Of His Action. 
     
     
     
   After A Moment'S Hesitation, Like One Who Feebly Tries To Brace Himself 
   In A Swift Torrent, The Gambler'S Passion Surged up Against And Over His 
   Feeble Will--Then Swept Him Down. 
     
     
   
   
   
   Chapter VIII (Their Victim) 
   Haldane Drew An Envelope From His Breast-Pocket, And Laid It On The 
   Table, Saying With A Reckless Laugh: 
     
     
     
   "Well, Well, As You Say, There Is No Great Harm In borrowing a Little Of 
   This Money, And Returning It Again Before The Evening Is Over. The Only 
   Question Is How To Open This Package, For If Torn It May Require 
   Explanations That I Do Not Care To Make." 
     
     
     
   "We Can Easily Manage That," Laughed ketchem; "Put The Package In your 
   Pocket A Few Moments," And He Rang The Bell. 
     
     
     
   To The Boy Who Appeared he Said, "Bring Us Three Hot Whiskey 
   Punches--Hot, Remember; Steaming Hot." 
     
     
     
   He Soon Reappeared with The Punch, And The Door Was Locked again. 
     
     
     
   "Hold Your Package Over The Steam Of Your Punch, And The Gum Will 
   Dissolve So That You Can Open And Close It In a Way That Will Defy 
   Detection." 
     
     
     
   The Suggestion Was Speedily Carried out. 
     
     
     
   "Now," Continued mr. Ketchem, "The Punch Having already Served so 
   Excellent A Turn, We Will Finish It By Drinking To Your Good Luck." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Won The First Two Games. This Success, Together With The Liquor, 
   Which Was Strong, Almost Wholly Dethroned his Reason, And In his Mad, 
   Drunken Excitement He Began To Stake Large Sums. The Eyes Of His 
   Companions Grew More Wolfish Than Ever, And, After A Significant Flash 
   Toward Each Other, The Gamblers Turned fortune Against Their Victim 
   Finally. The Brandy Was Now Placed within His Reach, And Under Its 
   Influence Haldane Threw Down Money At Random. The First Package Was Soon 
   Emptied. He Snatched the Other From His Pocket And Tore It Open, But 
   Before Its Contents Had Likewise Disappeared his Head Drooped upon His 
   Breast, And He Became Insensible. 
     
     
     
   They Watched him A Moment, Smiled grimly At Each Other, Drew A Long 
   Breath Of Relief, And, Rising, Stretched themselves Like Men Who Had 
   Been Under A Strain That Had Taxed them Severely. 
     
     
     
   "Half An Hour Yet," Said Mr. Van Wink; "Wish The Time Was Up." 
     
     
     
   "This Is A Heavy Swag If We Get Off Safely With It. I Say, Haldane, Wake 
   Up." 
     
     
     
   But Haldane Was Sunk In the Deepest Stupor. 
     
     
     
   "I Guess It'S Safe Enough," Said Van Wink, Answering Ketchem'S 
   Questioning Eyes. 
     
     
     
   The Latter Thereupon Completely Emptied the Remaining Package Of Money, 
   And Replaced the Two Empty Envelopes In haldane'S Breast-Pocket, And 
   Buttoned up His Coat. 
     
     
     
   With Mutual Glances Of Exultation At The Largeness Of The Sum, They 
   Swiftly Divided the Spoil Between Them. It Was Agreed that After Leaving 
   The Hotel They Should Separate, That One Should Go To Boston, The Other 
   To Baltimore, And That They Should Return To Their Old Haunts In new 
   York After The Interest Caused by The Affair Had Died out. Then, 
   Lighting Cigars, They Coolly Sat Down To Wait For The Train, Having 
   First Opened a Window And Placed haldane Where The Fresh Air Would Blow 
   Upon Him. 
     
     
     
   When The Time Of Departure Approached, Mr. Van Wink Went To The Bar And 
   Paid Both Their Own And Haldane'S Bill, Saying That They Would Now 
   Vacate The Room. On His Return Ketchem Had So Far Aroused haldane That 
   He Was Able To Leave The House With Their Assistance, And Yet So 
   Intoxicated as To Be Incapable Of Thinking and Acting For Himself. They 
   Took Him Down A Side Street, Now Utterly Deserted, And Left Him On The 
   Steps Of A Low Groggery, From Whence Still Issued the Voices Of Some 
   Late Revellers. Five Minutes Later The "Owl Train" Bore From The Town 
   Messrs. Van Wink And Ketchem, Who Might Be Called with A Certain Aptness 
   Birds Of The Night And Of Prey. 
     
     
     
   Haldane Remained upon The Saloon Steps, Where He Had Been Left, Blinking 
   Stupidly At A Distant Street Lamp. He Had A Vague Impression That 
   Something Was Wrong--That A Misfortune Of Some Kind Had Befallen Him, 
   But All Was Confused and Blurred. He Would Have Soon Gone To Sleep Again 
   Had Not The Door Opened, And A Man Emerged, Who Exclaimed: 
     
     
     
   "Faix, An Who Have We Here, Noddin' To Himself As If He Knew More'N 
   Other Folk? Are Ye Waitin' For Some Un To Ax Ye Within For A Comfortin' 
   Dhrop?" 
     
     
     
   "Take Me 'Ome," Mumbled haldane. 
     
     
     
   "Where'S Yer Home?" 
     
     
     
   "Mrs. Haldane'S," Answered the Youth, Thinking Himself In his Native 
   Town. 
     
     
     
   "By Me Sowl, If It Isn'T Boss Arnot'S New Clerk. Sure'S Me Name Is Pat 
   M'Cabe 'Tis Misther Haldane. I Say, Are Ye Sick?" 
     
     
     
   "Take Me 'Ome." 
     
     
     
   "Faix, I See," Winking at Two Or Three Of His Cronies Who Had Gathered 
   At The Open Door; "It'S A Disase I'M Taken Wid Meself At Odd Spells, 
   Though I Takes Moighty Good Care To Kape Out O' The Way Of Ould Man 
   Arnot When I'M So Afflicted. He Has A Quare Way O' Thinkin' That Ivery 
   Man About Him Can Go As Rigaler As If Made In a Mash-Shine Shop, Bad 
   Luck Till 'Im." 
     
     
     
   Perhaps All In mr. Arnot'S Employ Would Have Echoed this Sentiment, 
   Could The Ill Luck Have Blighted him Without Reaching Them. In working 
   His Employes As He Did His Machinery, Mr. Arnot Forgot That The Latter 
   Was Often Oiled, But That He Entirely Neglected to Lubricate The Wills 
   Of The Former With Occasional Expressions Of Kindness And Interest In 
   Their Welfare. Thus It Came To Pass That Even Down To Poor Pat M'Cabe, 
   Man Of All Work Around The Office Building, All Felt That Their Employer 
   Was A Hard, Driving Taskmaster, Who Ever Looked beyond Them And Their 
   Interests To What They Accomplished for Him. The Spirit Of The Master 
   Infused itself Among The Men, And The Tendency Of Each One To Look Out 
   For Himself Without Regard To Others Was Increased. If Pat Had Served a 
   Kinder And More Considerate Man, He Might Have Been Inclined to Show 
   Greater Consideration For The Intoxicated youth; But Pat'S Favorite 
   Phrase, "Divil Take The Hindmost," Was But A Fair Expression Of The 
   Spirit Which Animated his Master, And The Majority In his Employ. When, 
   Therefore, Haldane, In his Thick, Imperfect Utterance, Again Said, "Take 
   Me 'Ome," Pat Concluded that It Would Be The Best And Safest Course For 
   Himself. Helping The Young Man To His Feet He Said: 
     
     
     
   "Can Ye Walk? Mighty Onstiddy On Yer Pins; But I'M Athinkin' I Can Get 
   Ye To The Big House Afore Mornin'. Should I Kape Ye Out O' The Way Till 
   Ye Get Sober, And Ould Man Arnot Find It Out, I'D Be In the Street 
   Meself Widout A Job 'Fore He Ate His Dinner. Stiddy Now; Lean Aginst Me, 
   And Don'T Wabble Yer Legs So." 
     
     
     
   With Like Exhortations The Elder And More Wary Disciple Of Bacchus 
   Disappeared with His Charge In the Gloom Of The Night. 
     
     
     
   It Chanced that The Light Burned late, On This Evening, In mrs. Arnot'S 
   Parlor. The Lady'S Indisposition Had Confined her To Her Room And Couch 
   During The Greater Part Of The Day; But As The Sun Declined, The 
   Distress In her Head Had Gradually Ceased, And She Had Found Her Airy 
   Drawing-Room A Welcome Change From The Apartment Heavy With The Odor Of 
   Anaesthetics. Two Students From The University Had Aided in beguiling 
   The Early Part Of The Evening, And Then Laura Had Commenced reading 
   Aloud An Interesting Tale, Which Had Suspended the Consciousness Of 
   Time. But As The Marble Clock On The Mantel Chimed out The Hour Of 
   Twelve, Mrs. Arnot Rose Hastily From The Sofa, Exclaiming: 
     
     
     
   "What Am I Thinking Of, To Keep You Up So Late! If Your Mother Knew That 
   You Were Out Of Your Bed she Would Hesitate To Trust You With Me Again." 
     
     
     
   "One More Chapter, Dear Auntie, Please?" 
     
     
     
   "Yes, Dear, Several More--To-Morrow; But To Bed now, _Instanter_. 
   Come, Kiss Your Remorseful Aunt Good-Night. I'Ll Remain Here A While 
   Longer, For Either Your Foolish Story Or The After Effects Of My 
   Wretched headache Make Me A Trifle Morbid And Wakeful To-Night. Oh, How 
   That Bell Startles Me! What Can It Mean So Late?" 
     
     
     
   The Loud Ring at The Door Remained unanswered a Few Moments, For The 
   Servants Had All Retired. But The Applicant Without Did Not Wait Long 
   Before Repeating The Summons Still More Emphatically. 
     
     
     
   Then They Heard The Library Door Open, And Mr. Arnot'S Heavy Step In the 
   Hall, As He Went Himself To Learn The Nature Of The Untimely Call. His 
   Wife'S Nervous Timidity Vanished at Once, And She Stepped forward To 
   Join Her Husband, While Laura Stood Looking Out From The Parlor Entrance 
   With A Pale And Frightened face. "Can It Be Bad News From Home?" She 
   Thought. 
     
     
     
   "Who Is There?" Demanded mr. Arnot, Sternly. 
     
     
     
   "Me And Misther Haldane," Answered a Voice Without In broadest Brogue. 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Haldane!" Exclaimed mr. Arnot Excitedly; "What Can This Mean? Who 
   Is _Me?_" He Next Asked loudly. 
     
     
     
   "Me Is Pat M'Cabe, Sure; The Same As Tidies Up The Office And Does Yer 
   Irrinds. Mr. Haldane'S Had A Bad Turn, And I'Ve Brought Him Home." 
     
     
     
   As Mr. Arnot Swung Open The Door, A Man, Who Seemingly Had Been Leaning 
   Against It, Fell Prone Within The Hall. Laura Gave A Slight Scream, And 
   Mrs. Arnot Was Much Alarmed, Thinking That Haldane Was Suffering From 
   Some Sudden And Alarming attack. Thoughts Of At Once Telegraphing To His 
   Mother Were Entering Her Mind, When The Object Of Her Solicitude Tried 
   To Rise, And Mumbled in the Thick Utterance Of Intoxication: 
     
     
     
   "This Isn'T Home. Take Me To Mother'S." 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot'S Eyes Turned questioningly To Her Husband, And She Saw That 
   His Face Was Dark With Anger And Disgust. 
     
     
     
   "He Is Drunk," He Said, Turning To Pat, Who Stood In the Door, Cap In 
   Hand. 
     
     
     
   "Faix, Sur, It Looks Moighty Loike It. But It'S Not For A Dacent Sober 
   Man Loike Meself To Spake Sartainly O' Sich Matters." 
     
     
     
   "Few Words And To The Point, Sir," Said Mr. Arnot Harshly; "Your Breath 
   Tells Where You Have Been. But Where Did You Find This--And How Came You 
   To Find Him?" 
     
     
     
   Either Mr. Arnot Was At A Loss For A Term Which Would Express His 
   Estimation Of The Young Man, Who Had Slowly And Unsteadily Risen, And 
   Was Supporting Himself By Holding Fast The Hatrack, Or He Was Restrained 
   In His Utterance By The Presence Of His Wife. 
     
     
     
   "Well, Sur," Said Pat, With As Ingenuous And Candid An Air As If He Were 
   Telling The Truth, "The Wife O' A Neighbor O' Mine Was Taken On A 
   Suddint, And I Went For The Docther, And As I Was A Comin' Home, Who 
   Shud I See Sittin' On A Doorsthep But Misther Haldane, And I Thought It 
   Me Duty To Bring Him Home To Yees." 
     
     
     
   "You Have Done Right. Was It On The Doorstep Of A Drinking-Place You 
   Found Him?" 
     
     
     
   "I'M Athinkin' It Was, Sur; It Had That Sort O' Look." 
     
     
     
   Mr. Arnot Turned to His Wife And Said Coldly, "You Now See How It Works. 
   But This Is Not A Fit Object For You And Laura To Look Upon; So Please 
   Retire. I Will See That He Gets Safely To His Room. I Suppose He Must Go 
   There, Though The Station-House Is The More Proper Place For Him." 
     
     
     
   "He Certainly Must Go To His Own Room," Said Mrs. Arnot, Firmly But 
   Quietly. 
     
     
     
   "Well, Then, Steady Him Along Up The Stairs, Pat. I Will Show You Where 
   To Put The--" And Mr. Arnot Again Seemed to Hesitate For A Term, But The 
   Blank Was More Expressive Of His Contempt Than Any Epithet Could Be, 
   Since His Tone And Manner Suggested the Worst. 
     
     
     
   Returning To The Parlor, Mrs. Arnot Found Laura'S Face Expressive Of The 
   Deepest Alarm And Distress. 
     
     
     
   "O Auntie, What Does All This Mean? Am I In any Way To Blame? He Said He 
   Would Go To Ruin If I Didn'T--But How Could I?" 
     
     
     
   "No, My Dear, You Are Not In the Slightest Degree To Blame. Mr. Haldane 
   Seems Both Bad And Foolish. I Feel To-Night That He Is Not Worthy To 
   Speak To You; Much Less Is He Fit To Be Intrusted with That Which You 
   Will Eventually Give, I Hope, Only To One Who Is Pre-Eminently Noble And 
   Good. Come With Me To Your Room, My Child. I Am Very Sorry I Permitted 
   You To Stay Up To-Night." 
     
     
     
   But Laura Was Sleepless And Deeply Troubled; She Had Never Seen A 
   Laborer--Much Less One Of Her Own Acquaintances--In Haldane'S Condition 
   Before; And To Her Young, Innocent Mind The Event Had Almost The 
   Character Of A Tragedy. Although Conscious Of Entire Blamelessness, She 
   Supposed that She Was More Directly The Cause Of Haldane'S Behavior Than 
   Was True, And That He Was Carrying Out His Threat To Destroy Himself By 
   Reckless Dissipation. She Did Not Know That He Had Been Beguiled into 
   His Miserable Condition Through Bad Habits Of Long Standing, And That He 
   Had Fallen Into The Clutches Of Those Who Always Infest Public Haunts, 
   And Live By Preying Upon The Fast, Foolish, And Unwary. Haldane, From 
   His Character And Associations, Was Liable To Such An Experience 
   Whenever Circumstances Combined to Make It Possible. Young Men With No 
   More Principle Than He Possessed are Never Safe From Disaster, And They 
   Who Trust Them Trust Rather To The Chances Of Their Not Meeting The 
   Peculiar Temptations And Tests To Which They Would Prove Unequal. Laura 
   Could Not Then Know How Little She Had To Do With The Tremendous 
   Downfall Of Her Premature Lover. The Same Conditions Given, He Would 
   Probably Have Met With The Same Experience Upon Any Occasion. After His 
   First Glass Of Punch The Small Degree Of Discretion That He Had Learned 
   Thus Far In life Began To Desert Him; And Every Man As He Becomes 
   Intoxicated is First A Fool, And Then The Victim Of Every One Who 
   Chooses To Take Advantage Of His Voluntary Helplessness And Degradation. 
     
     
     
   But Innocent Laura Saw A Romantic And Tragic Element In the Painful 
   Event, And She Fell Asleep With Some Vague Womanly Thoughts About Saving 
   A Fellow-Creature By The Sacrifice Of Herself. However, The Morning 
   Light, The Truth Concerning Haldane, And Her Own Good Sense, Would 
   Banish Such Morbid Fancies. Indeed the Worst Possible Way In which A 
   Young Woman Can Set About Reforming a Bad Man Is To Marry Him. The Usual 
   Result Is Greatly Increased guilt On The Part Of The Husband, And 
   Lifelong, Hopeless Wretchedness For The Wife. 
   
   
   
   Chapter IX (Pat And The Press) 
   Pat Having Steadied and Half Carried haldane To His Room, Mr. Arnot 
   Demanded of His Clerk What Had Become Of The Money Intrusted to His 
   Care; But His Only Answer Was A Stupid, Uncomprehending Stare. 
     
     
     
   "Hold His Hands," Said Mr. Arnot Impatiently. 
     
     
     
   M'Cabe Having Obeyed, The Man Of Business, Whose Solicitude In the 
   Affair Had No Concern With The Young Man'S Immeasurable Loss, But 
   Related only To His Own Money, Immediately Felt In haldane'S Pockets For 
   The Envelopes Which Had Contained the Thousand Dollars In currency. The 
   Envelopes Were Safe Enough--One Evidently Opened with The Utmost Care, 
   And The Other Torn Recklessly--But The Money Was Gone. 
     
     
     
   When Haldane Saw The Envelopes, There Was A Momentary Expression Of 
   Trouble And Perplexity Upon His Face, And He Tried to Speak; But His 
   Thick Utterance Was Unintelligible. This Gleam Of Intelligence Passed 
   Quickly, However, And The Stupor Of Intoxication Reasserted itself. His 
   Heavy Eyelids Drooped, And Pat With Difficulty Could Keep Him On His 
   Feet. 
     
     
     
   "Toss Him There On The Lounge; Take Off His Muddy Boots. Nothing Further 
   Can Be Done While He Is In this Beastly Condition," Said Mr. Arnot, In a 
   Voice That Was As Harsh As The Expression Of His Face. 
     
     
     
   The Empty Envelopes And Mr. Arnot'S Dark Looks Suggested a Great Deal To 
   Pat, And He Saw That One Of His "Sprees" Was An Innocent Matter Compared 
   With This Affair. 
     
     
     
   "Now, Go Down To My Study And Wait There For Me." 
     
     
     
   Pat Obeyed in a Very Steady And Decorous Manner, For The Matter Was 
   Assuming Such Gravity As To Sober Him Completely. 
     
     
     
   Mr. Arnot Satisfied himself That There Was No Chance Of Escape From The 
   Windows, And Then, After Another Look Of Disgust And Anger At Haldane, 
   Who Was Now Sleeping Heavily, He Took The Key From The Door, And Locked 
   It On The Outside. 
     
     
     
   Descending To His Study, The Irate Gentleman Next Wrote A Note, And Gave 
   It To His Porter, Saying: 
     
     
     
   "Take That To The Police-Headquarters, And Ask That It Be Sent To The 
   Superintendent At Once. No Mistake, Now, As You Value Your Place; And 
   Mind, Not A Word Of All This To Any One." 
     
     
     
   "Faix, Sir, I'Ll Be As Dumb As An Oyster, And Do Yer Biddin' In a 
   Jiffy," Said Pat, Backing Out Of The Room, And Glad To Escape From One 
   Whose Threatening aspect Seemed to Forebode Evil To Any One Within His 
   Reach. 
     
     
     
   "He Looks Black Enough To Murther The Poor Young Spalpeen," Muttered the 
   Irishman, As He Hastened to Do His Errand, Remembering Now With 
   Trepidation That, Though He Had Escaped from His Master, The Big, 
   Red-Faced, Stout-Armed wife Of His Bosom Was Still To Be Propitiated 
   After His Late Prowlings. 
     
     
     
   When He Entered the Main Street, A Light That Glimmered from The Top Of 
   A Tall Building Suggested how He Might Obtain That Kind Of Oil Which, 
   Cast Upon The Domestic Billows That So Often Raged in his Fourth-Floor 
   Back Room, Was Most Effective In producing a Little Temporary 
   Smoothness. 
     
     
     
   Since The Weather Was Always Fouler Within His Domestic Haven Than 
   Without, And On This Occasion Threatened to Be At Its Worst, Pat At One 
   Time Half Decided not To Run Into Port At All; But The Glimmer Of The 
   Light Already Mentioned suggested another Course. 
     
     
     
   Although The Night Was Far Spent, Pat Still Longed for A "Wink O' Slape" 
   Before Going To His Work, And, In order To Enjoy It, Knew That He Must 
   Obtain The Means Of Allaying The Storm, Which Was Not Merely Brewing, 
   But Which, From The Lateness Of The Hour, Had Long Been Brewed. In his 
   Own Opinion, The Greenness Of His Native Isle Had Long Ago Faded from 
   His Mental And Moral Complexion, And He Did Not Propose That Any Stray 
   Dollars, Which By Any Shrewdness Or Artifice Could Be Diverted into His 
   Pocket, Should Get By Him. 
     
     
     
   Since His Wife Had Developed into A Huge, Female Divinity, At Whose 
   Shrine It Seemed probable That He Would Eventually Become A Human 
   Sacrifice, And Whose Wrath, In the Meantime, It Was His Daily Task To 
   Appease, Pat Had Gradually Formed the Habit Of Making a Sort Of 
   Companion Of Himself. In accordance With His Custom, Therefore, He 
   Stopped under The High Window From Whence Gleamed the Light, For The 
   Sake Of A Little Personal Counsel. 
     
     
     
   "Now, Pat," He Muttered, "If Yees Had Gone Home At Nine O'Clock, Yees 
   Wudn'T Be Afeared to Go Home Now; And If Yees Go Home Now Widout A 
   Dollar More Or Less, The Ould 'Ooman Will Make Yer Wish Yees Had Set On 
   The Curbstone The Rest O' The Night. They Sez Some Men Has No Bowels O' 
   Marcies; And After What I'Ve Seen The Night, And Afore The Night, Too, I 
   Kin Belave That Boss Arnot'S In'Ards Were Cast At The Same Foundry Where 
   He Gets His Mash-Shines. He Told Me That I Must Spake Nary A Word About 
   What I'Ve Seen And Heard, And If I Should Thry To Turn An Honest Penny 
   By Givin' A Knowin' Wink Or Two Where They Wud Pay For The Same, That 
   'Ud Be The Ind Of Pat M'Cabe At The Big Office. And Yet They Sez That 
   Them As Buys News Is Loike Them That Takes Stolen Goods--Moighty Willin' 
   To Kape Dark About Where They Got It, So That They Kin Get More Next 
   Time. That'S The Iditor Of The 'Currier' In yon High Room, And P'Raps 
   He'Ll Pay Me As Much For A Wink And A Hint The Night As I'Ll Get For Me 
   Day'S Work Termorrow. Bust Me If I Don'T Thry Him, If He'Ll Fust Promise 
   Me To Say It Any One Axes Him That He Niver Saw Pat M'Cabe In his 
   Loife," And The Suddenly Improvised reporter Climbed the Long Stairways 
   To Where The Night Editor Sat At His Desk. 
     
     
     
   Pat Gave A Hearty Rap For Manners, But As The Night Was Waning He Walked 
   In Without Waiting For An Answer, And Addressed the Startled newspaper 
   Man With A Business-Like Directness, Which Might Often Be Advantageously 
   Imitated: 
     
     
     
   "Is This The Shop Where Yer Pays A Dacent Price For News?" 
     
     
     
   "It Depends On The Importance Of The News, And Its Truthfulness," 
   Answered the Editor, After Eying The Intruder Suspiciously For A Moment. 
     
     
     
   "Thin I'Ve Got Ye On Both Counts, Though I Didn'T Think Ye'D Bear Down 
   So Heavy On Its Being Thrue," Said Pat, Advancing Confidently. 
     
     
     
   As The Door Of The Press-Room, In which Men Were At Work, Stood Open, 
   The Editor Felt No Alarm From The Sudden Appearance Of The Burly Figure 
   Before Him, But, Supposing The Man Had Been Drinking, He Said 
   Impatiently: 
     
     
     
   "Please State Your Business Briefly, As My Time Is Valuable." 
     
     
     
   "If Yer Time Is Worth Mor'N News, I'Ll Go To Another Shop," Said Pat 
   Stiffly, Making a Feint Of Departure. 
     
     
     
   "That'S A Good Fellow, Go Along," Chimed in the Editor, Bending Down To 
   His Writing again. 
     
     
     
   Such Disastrous Acquiescence Puzzled pat For A Moment, And He Growled, 
   "No Wonder Yer Prints A Paper That'S Loike A Lump O' Lead, When 'Stead 
   O' Lookin' For News Yer Turns It Away From Yer Doors." 
     
     
     
   "Now, Look Here, My Man," Said The Editor Rising, "If You Have Anything 
   To Say, Say It. If You Have Been Drinking, You Will Not Be Permitted to 
   Make A Row In this Office." 
     
     
     
   "It'S Not Me, But Another Man That'S Been Dhrinkin'." 
     
     
     
   "Well," Snarled the Editor, "If The Other Man Had The Drink, You Have 
   The 'Drunk,' And If You Don'T Take Yourself Off, I'Ll Call Some Men From 
   The Press-Room Who May Put You Downstairs Uncomfortably Fast." 
     
     
     
   "Hould On A Bit," Remonstrated pat, "Before Yer Ruffle Yer Feathers 
   Clane Over Yer Head And Blinds Yer Eyes. Wud A Man Loike Boss Arnot Send 
   Me, If I Was Dhrunk, Wid A Letther At This Toime O' Night? And Wud He 
   Send A Letther To The Superintindent O' The Perlice At This Toime O' The 
   Night To Ax Him The Toime O' Day! Afore Yer Calls Yer Spalpeens Out O' 
   The Press-Room Squint At That." 
     
     
     
   The Moment The Editor Caught Sight Of The Business Stamp On Mr. Arnot'S 
   Letter And The Formal Handwriting, His Manner Changed, And He Said 
   Suavely: 
     
     
     
   "I Beg Your Pardon--We Have Misunderstood One Another--Take A Chair." 
     
     
     
   "There'S Been No Misunderstandin' On My Part," Retorted pat, With An 
   Injured air; "I'Ve Got As Dainty A Bit O' Scandal Jist Under Me Tongue 
   As Iver Ye Spiced yer Paper Wid, And Yees Thrates Me As If I Was The 
   Inimy O' Yer Sowl." 
     
     
     
   "Well, You See," Said The Editor Apologetically, "Your Not Being In our 
   Regular Employ, Mr.--I Beg Your Pardon--And Your Coming In this Unusual 
   Way And Hour--" 
     
     
     
   "But, Begorry, Somethin' Unusual'S Happened." 
     
     
     
   "So I Understand; It Was Very Good Of You To Come To Us First; Just Give 
   Me The Points, And I Will Jot Them Down." 
     
     
     
   "But What Are Yees Goin' To Give Me For The Pints?" 
     
     
     
   "That Depends Upon What They Are Worth. News Cannot Be Paid For Till We 
   Learn Its Value." 
     
     
     
   "Och! Here I'M Rinnin' A Grate Risk In tellin' Ye At All, And Whin I'Ve 
   Spilt It All Out, And Can'T Pick It Up Agin, Ye May Show Me The Door, 
   And Tell Me To Go 'Long Wid Me Rubbish." 
     
     
     
   "If You Find What You Have To Report In the Paper, You May Know It Is 
   Worth Something. So If You Will Look At The Paper To-Morrow You Can See 
   Whether It Will Be Worth Your While To Call Again," Said The Editor, 
   Becoming Impatient At Pat'S Hesitancy To Open His Budget. 
     
     
     
   "But I'M In sore Need of A Dollar Or Two To-Night. Dade, It'S As Much As 
   My Loife'S Worth To Go Home Widout 'Em." 
     
     
     
   "See Here, My Good Friend," Said The Editor, Rising again And Speaking 
   Very Energetically, "My Time Is Very Valuable, And You Have Taken 
   Considerable Of It. Whatever May Be The Nature Of Your News, It Will Not 
   Be Worth Anything To Me If You Do Not Tell It At Once." 
     
     
     
   "Well, You See The Biggest Part O' The News Is Goin' To Happen 
   To-Morrow." 
     
     
     
   "Well, Well, What Has Happened to-Night?" 
     
     
     
   "Will Ye Promise Not To Mention Me Name?" 
     
     
     
   "How Can I Mention It When I Don'T Know It?" 
     
     
     
   "That'S Thrue, That'S Thrue. Now Me Mind'S Aisy On That Pint, For Ye 
   Must Know That Boss Arnot'S In'Ards Are Made O' Cast-Iron, And He'D Have 
   No Marcy On A Feller. You'Ll Surely Give Me A Dollar, At Laste." 
     
     
     
   "Yes, If Your Story Is Worth Printing, And I Give You Just Three Minutes 
   In Which To Tell It." 
     
     
     
   Thus Pinned down, Pat Related all He Knew And Surmised concerning 
   Haldane'S Woful Predicament, Saying In conclusion: 
     
     
     
   "Ye Must Know That This Haldane Is Not A Poor Spalpeen Uv A Clerk, But A 
   Gintleman'S Son. They Sez That His Folks Is As Stylish And Rich As The 
   Arnots Themselves. If Ye'Ll Have A Reporther Up At The Office In the 
   Mornin', Ye'Ll Git The Balance O' The Tale." 
     
     
     
   Having Received his Dollar, Pat Went Chuckling On His Way To Deliver His 
   Employer'S Letter To The Superintendent Of The City Police. 
     
     
     
   "Faix! I Was As Wise As A Sarpent In not Tellin' Me Name, For Ye Niver 
   Can Thrust These Iditors. It'S No Green Irishman That Can Make A Dollar 
   After Twelve O' The Night." 
     
     
     
   A Sleepy Reporter Was Aroused and Despatched after Pat, In order To 
   Learn, If Possible, The Contents Of Mr. Arnot'S Note. 
     
     
     
   In The Meantime Heavily Leaded lines--Vague And Mysterious--Concerning 
   "Crime In high Life," Were Set Up, Accompanied on The Editorial Page By 
   A Paragraph To The Following Effect: 
     
     
     
     
   "With Our Usual Enterprise And Keen Scent For News, We Discovered at A 
   Late Hour Last Night That An Intelligent Irishman In the Employ Of Mr. 
   Arnot Had Been Intrusted by That Gentleman With A Letter Written After 
   The Hour Of Midnight To The Superintendent Of The Police. The Guilty 
   Party Appears To Be A Mr. Haldane--A Young Man Of Aristocratic And 
   Wealthy Connections--Who Is At Present In mr. Arnot'S Employ, And A 
   Member Of His Family. We Think We Are Aware Of The Nature Of His Grave 
   Offence, But In justice To All Concerned we Refer Our Readers To Our 
   Next Issue, Wherein They Will Find Full Particulars Of The Painful 
   Affair, Since We Have Obtained peculiar Facilities For Learning Them. No 
   Arrests Have Yet Been Made." 
     
     
     
     
   "That Will Pique All The Gossips In town, And Nearly Double Our Next 
   Issue," Complacently Muttered the Local Editor, As He Carried the Scrawl 
   At The Last Moment Into The Composing-Room. 
     
     
     
   In The Meantime The Hero Of Our Story--If Such A Term By Any Latitude Of 
   Meaning Can Be Applied to One Whose Folly Had Brought Him Into Such A 
   Prosaic And Miserable Plight--Still Lay In a Heavy Stupor On The Lounge 
   Where Pat Had Thrown His Form, That Had Been As Limp And Helpless As If 
   It Had Become A Mere Body Without A Soul. But The Consequences Of His 
   Action Did Not Cease With His Paralysis, Any More Than Do The Influences 
   Of Evil Deeds Perish With A Dying Man. 
   
   
   
   Chapter X (Returning Consciousness) 
   Mr. Arnot Did Not Leave His Library That Night. His Wife Came To The 
   Door And Found It Locked. To Her Appeal He Replied coldly, But 
   Decisively, That He Was Engaged. 
     
     
     
   She Sighed deeply, Feeling That The Sojourn Of Young Haldane Under Her 
   Roof Was Destined to End In a Manner Most Painful To Herself And To Her 
   Friend, His Mother. She Feared that The Latter Would Blame Her Somewhat 
   For His Miserable Fiasco, And She Fully Believed that If Her Husband 
   Permitted the Young Man To Suffer Open Disgrace, She Would Never Be 
   Forgiven By The Proud And Aristocratic Lady. 
     
     
     
   And Yet She Felt That It Was Almost Useless To Speak To Her Husband In 
   His Present Mood, Or To Hope That He Could Be Induced to Show Much 
   Consideration For So Grave An Offense. 
     
     
     
   Of The Worst Feature In haldane'S Conduct, However, She Had No 
   Knowledge. Mr. Arnot Rarely Spoke To His Wife Concerning His Business, 
   And She Had Merely Learned, The Previous Evening, That Haldane Had Been 
   Sent To New York Upon Some Errand. Acting Upon The Supposition That Her 
   Husband Had Remembered and Complied with Her Request, She Graciously 
   Thanked him For Giving The Young Man A Little Change And Diverting 
   Novelty Of Scene. 
     
     
     
   Mr. Arnot, Who Happened to Verge Somewhat Toward A Complacent Mood Upon 
   This Occasion, Smiled grimly At His Wife'S Commendation, And Even Unbent 
   So Far As To Indulge In some Ponderous Attempts At Wit With Laura 
   Concerning Her "Magnificent Offer," And Asserted that If She Had Been 
   "Like His Wife, She Would Have Jumped at The Chance Of Getting Hold Of 
   Such A Crude, Unreformed specimen Of Humanity. Indeed," Concluded he, "I 
   Did Not Know But That Mrs. Arnot Was Bringing about The Match, So That 
   She Might Have A Little Of The Raw Material For Reformatory Purposes 
   Continually On Hand." 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Smiled, As She Ever Did, At Her Husband'S Attempted 
   Witticisms; But What He Regarded as Light, Delicate Shafts, Winged 
   Sportively And Carelessly, Had Rather The Character Of Any Heavy Object 
   That Came To Hand Thrown At Her With Heedless, Inconsiderate Force. It 
   Is Due Mr. Arnot To Say That He Gave So Little Thought And Attention To 
   The Wounds And Bruises He Caused, As To Be Unaware That Any Had Been 
   Made. He Had No Hair-Springs And Jewel-Tipped machinery In his Massive, 
   Angular Organization, And He Acted practically As If The Rest Of 
   Humanity Had Been Cast In the Same Mold With Himself. 
     
     
     
   But Haldane'S Act Touched him At His Most Vulnerable Point. Not Only Had 
   A Large Sum Of His Money Been Made Away With, But, What Was Far Worse, 
   There Had Been A Most Serious Irregularity In the Business Routine. 
   While, Therefore, He Resolved that Haldane Should Receive Full 
   Punishment, The Ulterior Thought Of Giving The Rest Of His Employes A 
   Warning and Intimidating Lesson Chiefly Occupied his Mind. 
     
     
     
   Aware Of His Wife'S "Unbusinesslike Weakness And Sentimental Notions," 
   As He Characterized her Traits, He Determined not To See Her Until He 
   Had Carried out His Plan Of Securing Repayment Of The Money, And Of 
   Striking a Salutary Sentiment Of Fear Into The Hearts Of All Who Were 
   Engaged in carrying Out His Methodical Will. 
     
     
     
   Therefore, With The Key Of Haldane'S Room In his Pocket, He Kept Watch 
   And Guard During The Remainder Of The Night, Taking Only Such Rest As 
   Could Be Obtained on The Lounge In his Library. 
     
     
     
   At About Sunrise Two Men Appeared, And Rapped lightly On The Library 
   Window. Mr. Arnot Immediately Went Out To Them, And Placed one Within A 
   Summer-House In the Spacious Garden At The Rear Of The House, And The 
   Other In front, Where He Would Be Partially Concealed by Evergreens. By 
   This Arrangement The Windows Of Haldane'S Apartment And Every Entrance 
   Of The House Were Under The Surveillance Of Police Officers In citizen'S 
   Dress. Mr. Arnot'S Own Personal Pride, As Well As Some Regard For His 
   Wife'S Feelings, Led him To Arrange That The Arrest Should Not Be Made 
   At Their Residence, For He Wished that All The Events Occurring at The 
   House Should Be Excluded as Far As Possible From The Inevitable Talk 
   Which The Affair Would Occasion. At The Same Time He Proposed to Guard 
   Against The Possibility Of Haldane'S Escape, Should Fear Or Shame Prompt 
   His Flight. 
     
     
     
   Having Now Two Assistant Watchers, He Threw Himself On The Sofa, And 
   Took An Hour Or More Of Unbroken Sleep. On Awaking, He Went With Silent 
   Tread To The Door Of Haldane'S Room, And, Afer Listening a Moment, Was 
   Satisfied from The Heavy Breathing Within That Its Occupant Was Still 
   Under The Influence Of Stupor. He Now Returned the Key To The Door, And 
   Unlocked it So That Haldane Could Pass Out As Soon As He Was Able. Then, 
   After Taking a Little Refreshment In the Dining-Room, He Went Directly 
   To The Residence Of A Police Justice Of His Acquaintance, Who, On 
   Hearing The Facts As Far As Then Known Concerning Haldane, Made Out A 
   Warrant For His Arrest, And Promised that The Officer To Whom It Would 
   Be Given Should Be Sent Forthwith To Mr. Arnot'S Office--For Thither The 
   Young Man Would First Come, Or Be Brought, On Recovering From His Heavy 
   Sleep. 
     
     
     
   Believing That He Had Now Made All The Arrangements Necessary To Secure 
   Himself From Loss, And To Impress The Small Army In his Service That 
   Honesty Was The "Best Policy" In their Relations With Him, Mr. Arnot 
   Walked leisurely To One Of His Factories In the Suburbs, Partly To See 
   That All Was Right, And Partly To Remind His Agents There That They Were 
   In The Employ Of One Whose Untiring Vigilance Would Not Permit Any 
   Neglect Of Duty To Escape Undetected. 
     
     
     
   Having Noted that The Routine Of Work Was Going Forward As Regularly As 
   The Monotonous Clank Of The Machinery, He Finally Wended his Way To His 
   City Office, And Was The First Arrival Thither Save Pat M'Cabe, Who Had 
   Just Finished putting The Place In order For The Business Of The Day. 
   His Factotum Was In mortal Trepidation, For In coming across Town He Had 
   Eagerly Bought The Morning "Courier," And His Complacent Sense Of 
   Security At Having Withheld His Name From The "Oncivil Iditer" Vanished 
   Utterly As He Read The Words, "An Intelligent Irishman In mr. Arnot'S 
   Employ." 
     
     
     
   "Och! Bloody Blazes! That Manes Me," He Had Exclaimed; "And Ould Boss 
   Arnot Will Know It Jist As Well As If They Had Printed me Name All Over 
   The Paper. Bad Luck To The Spalpeen, And Worse Luck To Meself! 
   'Intilligent Irishman,' Am I? Then What Kind O' A Crather Would One Be 
   As Had No Sinse A' Tall? Here I'Ve Bin Throwin' Away Fotry Dollars The 
   Month For The Sake O' One! Whin I Gets Me Discharge I'D Better Go Round 
   To The Tother Side O' The Airth' Than Go Home To Me Woife." 
     
     
     
   Nor Were His Apprehensions Allayed as He Saw Mr. Arnot Reading The Paper 
   With A Darkening Scowl; But For The Present Pat Was Left In suspense As 
   To His Fate. 
     
     
     
   Clerks And Book-Keepers Soon Appeared, And Among Them A Policeman, Who 
   Was Summoned to The Inner Office, And Given A Seat Somewhat Out Of Sight 
   Behind The Door. 
     
     
     
   Upon Every Face There Was An Expression Of Suppressed excitement And 
   Expectation, For The Attention Of Those Who Had Not Seen The Morning 
   Paper Was Speedily Called to The Ominous Paragraph. But The Routine And 
   Discipline Of The Office Prevailed, And In a Few Minutes All Heads Were 
   Bending Over Bulky Journals And Ledgers, But With Many A Furtive Glance 
   At The Door. 
     
     
     
   As For Pat, He Had The Impression That The Policeman Within Would Collar 
   Him Before The Morning Was Over, And March Him Off, With Haldane, To 
   Jail; And He Was In such A State Of Nervous Apprehension That Almost Any 
   Event Short Of An Earthquake Would Be A Relief If It Could Only Happen 
   At Once. 
     
     
     
   The April Sun Shone Brightly And Genially Into The Apartment In which 
   Haldane Had Been Left To Sleep Off His Drunken Stupor. In all Its 
   Appointments It Appeared as Fresh, Inviting, And Cleanly As The 
   Wholesome Light Without. The Spirit Of The Housekeeper Pervaded every 
   Part Of The Mansion, And In both Furniture And Decoration It Would Seem 
   That She Had Studiously Excluded everything Which Would Suggest Morbid 
   Or Gloomy Thoughts. It Was Mrs. Arnot'S Philosophy That Outward 
   Surroundings Impart Their Coloring To The Mind, And Are A Help Or A 
   Hindrance. She Was A Disciple Of The Light, And Was Well Aware That She 
   Must Resolutely Dwell In its Full Effulgence In order To Escape From The 
   Blighting Shadow Of A Life-Long Disappointment. Thus She Sought To Make 
   Her Home, Not Gay Or Gaudy--Not A Brilliant Mockery Of Her Sorrow, Which 
   She Had Learned to Calmly Recognize As One Might A Village Cemetery In a 
   Sunny Landscape--But Cheerful And Lightsome Like This April Morning, 
   Which Looked in through The Curtained windows Of Haldane'S Apartment, 
   And Found Everything In harmony With Itself Save The Occupant. 
     
     
     
   And Yet He Was Young And In his Spring-Time. Why Should He Make Discord 
   With The Bright Fresh Morning? Because The Shadow Of Evil--Which Is 
   Darker Than The Shadow Of Night, Age, Or Sorrow--Rested upon Him. His 
   Hair Hung In disorder Over A Brow Which Was Contracted into A Frown. His 
   Naturally Fine Features Had A Heavy, Bloated, Sensual Aspect; And Yet, 
   Even While He Slept, You Caught A Glimpse In this Face--As Through A 
   Veil--Of The Anguish Of A Spirit That Was Suffering Brutal Wrong And 
   Violence. 
     
     
     
   His Insensibility Was Passing away. His Mind Appeared to Be Struggling 
   To Cast Off The Weight Of A Stupefied body, But For A Time Its 
   Throes--Which Were Manifested by Starts, Strong Shudderings, And 
   Muttered words--Were Ineffectual. At Last, In desperation, As It Were, 
   The Tortured soul, Poisoned even In its Imaginings By The Impurity Of 
   The Lower Nature, Conjured up Such A Horrid Vision That In its Anguish 
   It Broke Its Chains, Threw Off The Crushing Weight, And The Young Man 
   Started up. 
     
     
     
   This Returning Consciousness Had Not Been, Like The Dawn Stealing In at 
   His Window, Followed by A Burst Of Sunlight. As The Morning Enters The 
   Stained, Foul, Dingy Places Of Dissipation, Which Early In the Evening 
   Had Been The Gas-Lighted, Garish Scenes Of Riot And Senseless Laughter, 
   And Later The Fighting Ground Of All The Vile Vermin Of The Night With 
   Their Uncanny Noises--As When, The Doors And Windows Having Been At Last 
   Opened, The Light Struggles In through Stale Tobacco-Smoke, Revealing 
   Dimly A Discolored, Reeking Place, Whose Sights And Odors Are More In 
   Harmony With The Sewer Than The Sweet April Sunshine And The Violets 
   Opening On Southern Slopes--So When Reason And Memory, The Janitors Of 
   The Mind, First Admitted the Light Of Consciousness, Only The Obscure 
   Outline Of Miserable Feelings And Repulsive Events Were Manifest To 
   Haldane'S Introspection. 
     
     
     
   There Was A Momentary Relief At Finding That The Horrible Dream Which 
   Had Awakened him Was Only A Dream, But While His Waking Banished the 
   Uncouth Shapes Of The Imagination, His Sane, Will-Guided vision Saw 
   Revealed that From Which He Shrank With Far Greater Dread. 
     
     
     
   For A Few Moments, As He Stared vacantly Around The Room, He Could 
   Realize Nothing Save A Dull, Leaden Weight Of Pain. In this Dreary 
   Obscurity Of Suffering, Distinct Causes Of Trouble And Fear Began To 
   Shape Themselves. There Was A Mingled sense Of Misfortune And Guilt. He 
   Had A Confused memory Of A Great Disappointment, And He Knew From His 
   Condition That He Had Been Drinking. 
     
     
     
   He Looked at Himself--He Was Dressed. There Stood His Muddy Boots--Two 
   Foul Blots On The Beauty And Cleanliness Of The Room. So Then He Had 
   Come, Or Had Been Brought, At Some Hour During The Night, To The House 
   Of His Stern And Exacting Employer. Haldane Dismissed the Thought Of Him 
   With A Reckless Oath; But His Face Darkened with Anguish As He 
   Remembered that This Was Also The Home Of Mrs. Arnot, Who Had Been So 
   Kind, And, At The Present Time, The Home Of Laura Romeyn Also. 
     
     
     
   They May Have Seen, Or, At Least, Must Know Of, His Degradation. 
     
     
     
   He Staggered to The Ewer, And, With A Trembling Hand, Poured out A 
   Little Water. Having Bathed his Hot, Feverish Face, He Again Sat Down, 
   And Tried to Recall What Had Happened. 
     
     
     
   In Bitterness Of Heart He Remembered his Last Interview With Laura, And 
   Her Repugnance Toward Both Himself And What She Regarded as "His 
   Disgusting Vices," And So Disgusting Did His Evil Courses Now Seem That, 
   For The First Time In his Life, He Thought Of Himself With Loathing. 
     
     
     
   Then, As Memory Rapidly Duplicated subsequent Events, He Gave A 
   Contemptuous Smile To His "Gloomy Grandeur" Schemes In passing, And Saw 
   Himself On The Way To New York, With One Thousand Dollars Of His 
   Employer'S Funds Intrusted to His Care. He Remembered that He Was 
   Introduced to Two Fascinating Strangers, That They Drank And Lunched 
   Together, That They Missed the Train, That They Were Gambling, That, 
   Having Lost All His Own Money, He Was Tempted to Open A Package 
   Belonging To Mr. Arnot; Did He Not Open The Other Also? At This Point 
   All Became Confused and Blurred. 
     
     
     
   What Had Become Of That Money? 
     
     
     
   With Nervous, Trembling Haste He Searched his Pockets. Both The Money 
   And The Envelopes Were Gone. 
     
     
     
   His Face Blanched; His Heart Sank With A Certain Foreboding Of Evil. He 
   Found Himself On The Brink Of An Abyss, And Felt The Ground Crumbling 
   Beneath Him. First Came A Mad Impulse To Fly, To Escape And Hide 
   Himself; And He Had Almost Carried it Out. His Hand Was On The Door, But 
   He Hesitated, Turned back, And Walked the Floor In agony. 
     
     
     
   Then Came The Better Impulse Of One As Yet Unhardened in the Ways Of 
   Evil, To Go At Once To His Employer, Tell The Whole Truth, And Make Such 
   Reparation As Was Within His Power. He Knew That His Mother Was 
   Abundantly Able To Pay Back The Money, And He Believed she Would Do So. 
     
     
     
   This He Conceded was His Best, And, Indeed, Only Safe Course, And He 
   Hoped that The Wretched affair Might Be So Arranged as To Be Kept Hidden 
   From The World. As For Mrs. Arnot And Laura, He Felt That He Could Never 
   Look Them In the Face Again. 
     
     
     
   Suppose He Should Meet Them Going Out. The Very Thought Was Dreadful, 
   And It Seemed to Him That He Would Sink To The Floor From Shame Under 
   Their Reproachful Eyes. Would They Be Up Yet? He Looked at His Watch; It 
   Had Run Down, And Its Motionless Hands Pointed at The Vile, Helpless 
   Condition In which He Must Have Been At The Time When He Usually Wound 
   It Up. 
     
     
     
   He Glanced from The Window, With The Hope Of Escaping The Two Human 
   Beings Whom He Dreaded more Than The Whole Mocking World; But It Was Too 
   Lofty To Admit Of A Leap To The Ground. 
     
     
     
   "Who Is Yonder Strange Man That Seems To Be Watching The House?" He 
   Queried. 
     
     
     
   Was It His Shaken Nerves And Sense Of Guilt Which Led him To Suspect 
   Danger And Trouble On Every Side? 
     
     
     
   "There Is No Help For It," He Exclaimed, Grinding His Teeth; And, 
   Opening The Door, He Hastened from The House, Looking Neither To The 
   Right Hand Nor To The Left. 
   
   
   
   Chapter XI (Haldane Is Arrested) 
   As Haldane Strode Rapidly Along The Winding, Gravelled path That Led 
   From Mrs. Arnot'S Beautiful Suburban Villa To The Street, He Started 
   Violently As He Encountered a Stranger, Who Appeared to Be Coming Toward 
   The Mansion; And He Was Greatly Relieved when He Was Permitted to Pass 
   Unmolested. And Yet The Cool Glance Of Scrutiny Which He Received left A 
   Very Unpleasant Impression. Nor Was This Uneasiness Diminished when, On 
   Reaching The Street, He Found That The Stranger Had Apparently 
   Accomplished his Errand To The House So Speedily That He Was Already 
   Returning, And Accompanied by Another Man. 
     
     
     
   Were Not Their Eyes Fixed on Him, Or Was He Misled by His Fears? After A 
   Little Time He Looked around Again. One Of The Men Had Disappeared, And 
   He Breathed more Fully. No; There He Was On The Opposite Side Of The 
   Street, And Walking Steadily Abreast With Him, While His Companion 
   Continued following about The Same Distance Away. 
     
     
     
   Was He "Shadowed"? He Was, Indeed, Literally And Figuratively. Although 
   The Sun Was Shining Bright And Warm, Never Before Had He Been Conscious 
   Of Such A Horror Of Great Darkness. The Light Which Can Banish The 
   Oppressive, Disheartening Shadow Of Guilt Must Come From Beyond The Sun. 
     
     
     
   As He Entered the Busier Streets In the Vicinity Of The Office, He Saw A 
   Few Persons Whom He Knew. Was He Again Misled by His Overwrought And 
   Nervous Condition? Or Did These Persons Try To Shun Him By Turning 
   Corners, Entering Shops, Or By Crossing The Street, And Looking 
   Resolutely The Other Way. 
     
     
     
   Could That Awful Entity, The World, Already Know The Events Of The Past 
   Night? 
     
     
     
   A Newsboy Was Vociferating Down A Side Street. The Word "Crime" Only 
   Caught Haldane'S Ear, But The Effect Was As Cold And As Chilling as The 
   Drip Of An Icicle. 
     
     
     
   As He Hastened up The Office Steps, Pat M'Cabe Scowled upon Him, And 
   Muttered audibly: 
     
     
     
   "Bad Luck Till Yees! I Wish I'D Lift Ye Ablinkin' Like An Owl Where I 
   Found Ye." 
     
     
     
   "An' Back Luck Till Yees, Too," Added pat In his Surly Growl, As A 
   Reporter, Note-Book In hand, Stepped nimbly In after Haldane; "It'S 
   Meself That Wishes Iviry Iditer O' The Land Was Burned up Wid His Own 
   Lyin' Papers." 
     
     
     
   Even The Most Machine-Like Of The Sere And Withered book-Keepers Held 
   Their Pens In suspense As Haldane Passed hastily Toward Mr. Arnot'S 
   Private Office, Followed by The Reporter, Whose Alert Manner And 
   Observant, Questioning Eye Suggested an Animated symbol Of 
   Interrogation. 
     
     
     
   The Manner Of His Fellow Clerks Did Not Escape Haldane'S Notice Even In 
   That Confused and Hurried moment, And It Increased his Sense Of An 
   Impending Blow; But When, On Entering The Private Office, Mr. Arnot 
   Turned toward Him His Grim, Rigid Face, And When A Man In the Uniform Of 
   An Officer Of The Law Rose And Stepped forward As If The One Expected 
   Had Now Arrived, His Heart Misgave Him Utterly, And For A Moment He 
   Found No Words, But Stood Before His Employer, Pallid And Trembling, His 
   Very Attitude And Appearance Making as Full A Confession Of Guilt As 
   Could The Statement He Proposed to Give. 
     
     
     
   If Pat'S Opinion Concerning Mr. Arnot'S "In'Ards" Had Not Been 
   Substantially Correct, That Inexorable Man Would Have Seen That This Was 
   Not An Old Offender Who Stood Before Him. The Fact That Haldane Was 
   Overwhelmed with Shame And Fear, Should Have Tempered his Course With 
   Healing and Saving Kindness. But Mr. Arnot Had Already Decided upon His 
   Plan, And No Other Thought Would Occur To Him Save That Of Carrying It 
   Out With Machine-Like Precision. His Frown Deepened as He Saw The 
   Reporter, But After A Second'S Thought He Made No Objection To His 
   Presence, As The Increasing Publicity That Would Result Would Add To The 
   Punishment Which Was Designed to Be A Signal Warning To All In his 
   Employ. 
     
     
     
   After A Moment'S Lowering Scrutiny Of The Trembling Youth, During Which 
   His Confidential Clerk, By Previous Arrangement, Appeared, That He Might 
   Be A Witness Of All That Occurred, Mr. Arnot Said Coldly: 
     
     
     
   "Well, Sir, Perhaps You Can Now Tell Me What Has Become Of The Funds 
   Which I Intrusted to Your Care Last Evening." 
     
     
     
   "That Is My Purpose--Object," Stammered haldane; "If You Will Only Give 
   Me A Chance I Will Tell You Everything." 
     
     
     
   "I Am Ready To Hear, Sir. Be Brief; Business Has Suffered too Great An 
   Interruption Already." 
     
     
     
   "Please Have A Little Consideration For Me," Said Haldane, Eagerly, 
   Great Beaded drops Of Perspiration Starting From His Brow; "I Do Not 
   Wish To Speak Before All These Witnesses. Give Me A Private Interview, 
   And I Will Explain Everything, And Can Promise That The Money Shall Be 
   Refunded." 
     
     
     
   "I Shall Make Certain Of That, Rest Assured," Replied mr. Arnot, In the 
   Same Cold, Relentless Tone. "The Money Was Intrusted to Your Care Last 
   Evening, In the Presence Of Witnesses. Here Are The Empty Envelopes. If 
   You Have Any Explanations To Make Concerning What You Did With The 
   Money, Speak Here And Now." 
     
     
     
   "I Must Warn The Young Man," Said The Policeman, Interposing, "Not To 
   Say Anything Which Will Tend To Criminate Himself. He Must Remember That 
   Whatever He Says Will Appear Against Him In evidence." 
     
     
     
   "But There Is No Need that This Affair Should Have Any Such Publicity," 
   Haldane Urged in great Agitation. "If Mr. Arnot Will Only Show A Little 
   Humanity Toward Me I Will Arrange The Matter So That He Will Not Lose A 
   Penny. Indeed, My Mother Will Pay Twice The Sum Rather Than Have The 
   Affair Get Abroad." 
     
     
     
   The Reporter Just Behind Him Grinned and Lifted his Eyebrows As He Took 
   Down These Words _Verbatim_. 
     
     
     
   "For Your Mother'S Sake I Deeply Regret That 'The Affair' As You Mildly 
   Term It, Must And Has Become Known. As Far As You Are Concerned, I Have 
   No Compunctions. When A Seeming Man Can Commit A Grave Crime In the Hope 
   That A Widowed mother--Whose Stay And Pride He Ought To Be--Will Come 
   To His Rescue, And Buy Immunity From Deserved punishment, He Neither 
   Deserves, Nor Shall He Receive, Mercy At My Hands. But Were I Capable Of 
   A Maudlin Sentiment Of Pity In the Circumstances, The Duty I Owe My 
   Business Would Prevent Any Such Expression As You Desire. When Any One 
   In My Employ Takes Advantage Of My Confidence, He Must Also, And With 
   Absolute Certainty, Take The Consequences." 
     
     
     
   "Bad Luck Ter Yez!" Mentally Ejaculated pat, Whom Curiosity And The 
   Fascination Of His Own Impending Fate Had Drawn Within Earshot. 
     
     
     
   "What Do You Intend To Do With Me?" Asked haldane, His Brow Contracting, 
   And His Face Growing Sullen Under Mr. Arnot'S Harsh, Bitter Words. 
     
     
     
   "Do! What Is Done With Clerks Who Steal Their Employers' Money?" 
     
     
     
   "I Did Not Steal Your Money," Said Haldane Impetuously. 
     
     
     
   "Where Is It, Then?" Asked mr. Arnot, With A Cold Sneer. 
     
     
     
   "Be Careful, Now," Said The Policeman; "You Are Getting Excited, And You 
   May Say What You'Ll Wish You Hadn'T." 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Arnot, Do You Mean To Have It Go Abroad To All The World That I 
   Have Deliberately Stolen That Thousand Dollars?" Asked the Young Man 
   Desperately. 
     
     
     
   "Here Are The Empty Envelopes. Where Is The Money?" Said His Employer, 
   In The Same Cool, Inexorable Tone. 
     
     
     
   "I Met Two Sharpers From New York, Who Made A Fool Of Me--" 
     
     
     
   "Made A Fool Of You! That Was Impossible," Interrupted mr. Arnot With A 
   Harsh Laugh. 
     
     
     
   "Dastard That You Are, To Strike A Man When He Is Down," Thundered 
   Haldane Wrathfully. "Since Everything Must Go Abroad, The Truth Shall 
   Go, And Not Foul Slander. I Got To Drinking With These Men From New 
   York, And Missed the Train--" 
     
     
     
   "Be Careful, Now; Think What You Are Saying," Interrupted the Policeman. 
     
     
     
   "He Charges Me With What Amounts To A Bald Theft, And In a Way That All 
   Will Hear Of The Charge, And Shall I Not Defend My Self?" 
     
     
     
   "O, Certainly, If You Can Prove That You Did Not Take The Money--Only 
   Remember, What You Say Will Appear In the Evidence." 
     
     
     
   "What Evidence?" Cried the Bewildered and Excited youth With An Oath. 
   "If You Will Only Give Me A Chance, You Shall Have All The Evidence 
   There Is In a Sentence. These Blacklegs From New York Appeared like 
   Gentlemen. A Friend In town Introduced them To Me, And, After Losing The 
   Train, We Agreed to Spend The Evening Together. They Called for Cards, 
   And They Won The Money." 
     
     
     
   Mr. Arnot'S Dark Cheek Had Grown More Swarthy At The Epithet Of 
   "Dastard," But He Coolly Waited until Haldane Had Finished, And Then 
   Asked in his Former Tone: 
     
     
     
   "Did They Take The Money From Your Person And Open The Envelopes, One 
   Carefully, The Other Recklessly, Before They Won It?" 
     
     
     
   Guided by This Keen Questioning, Memory Flashed back Its Light On The 
   Events Of The Past Night, And Haldane Saw Himself Opening The First 
   Package, Certainly, And He Remembered how It Was Done. He Trembled, And 
   His Face, That Had Been So Flushed, Grew Very Pale. For A Moment He Was 
   So Overwhelmed by A Realization Of His Act, And Its Threatening 
   Consequences, That His Tongue Refused to Plead In his Behalf. At Last He 
   Stammered: 
     
     
     
   "I Did Not Mean To Take The Money--Only To Borrow A Little Of It, And 
   Return It That Same Night They Got Me Drunk--I Was Not Myself. But I 
   Assure You It Will All Be Returned. I Can--" 
     
     
     
   "Officer, Do Your Duty," Interrupted mr. Arnot Sternly. "Too Much Time 
   Has Been Wasted over The Affair Already, But Out Of Regard For His 
   Mother I Wished to Give This Young Man An Opportunity To Make An 
   Exculpating Explanation Or Excuse, If It Were In his Power. Since, 
   According To His Own Statement, He Is Guilty, The Law Must Take Its 
   Course." 
     
     
     
   "You Don'T Mean To Send Me To Prison?" Asked haldane Excitedly. 
     
     
     
   "I Could Never Send You To Prison," Replied mr. Arnot Coldly; "Your Own 
   Act May Bring You There. But I Do Mean To Send You Before The Justice 
   Who Issued the Warrant For Your Arrest, Held By This Officer. Unless You 
   Can Find Some One Who Will Give Bail In your Behalf, I Do Not See Why He 
   Should Treat You Differently From Other Offenders." 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Arnot," Cried haldane Passionately, "This Is My First And Only 
   Offence. You Surely Cannot Be So Cold-Blooded as To Inflict Upon Me This 
   Irreparable Disgrace? It Will Kill My Mother." 
     
     
     
   "You Should Have Thought Of All This Last Evening," Said Mr. Arnot. "If 
   You Persist In ignoring The Fact, That It Is Your Own Deed that Wounds 
   Your Mother And Inflicts Disgrace Upon Yourself, The World Will Not. 
   Come, Mr. Officer, Serve Your Warrant, And Remove Your Prisoner." 
     
     
     
   "Is It Your Purpose That I Shall Be Dragged through These Streets In the 
   Broad Light Of Day To A Police Court, And Thence To Jail?" Demanded 
   Haldane, A Dark Menace Coming Into His Eyes, And Finding Expression In 
   His Livid Face. 
     
     
     
   "Yes, Sir," Said The Man Of Business, Rising and Speaking In loud, Stern 
   Tones, So That All In the Office Could Hear; "I Mean That You Or Any One 
   Else In my Employ Who Abuses My Trust And Breaks The Laws Shall Suffer 
   Their Full Penalty." 
     
     
     
   "You Are A Hard-Hearted wretch!" Thundered haldane; "You Are A Pagan 
   Idolater, And Gold Is Your God. You Crush Your Wife And Servants At 
   Home; You Crush The Spirit And Manhood Of Your Clerks Here By Your 
   Cast-Iron System And Rules. If You Had Shown A Little Consideration For 
   Me You Would Have Lost Nothing, And I Might Have Had A Chance For A 
   Better Life. But You Tread Me Down Into The Mire Of The Streets; You 
   Make It Impossible For Me To Appear Among Decent Men Again; You Strike 
   My Mother And Sisters As With A Dagger. Curse You! If I Go To Jail, It 
   Will Require You And All Your Clerks To Take Me There!" And He Whirled 
   On His Heel, And Struck Out Recklessly Toward The Door. 
     
     
     
   The Busy Reporter Was Capsized by The First Blow, And His Nose Long Bore 
   Evidence That It Is A Serious Matter To Put That Member Into Other 
   People'S Affairs, Even In a Professional Way. 
     
     
     
   Before Haldane Could Pass From The Inner Office Two Strangers, Who Had 
   Been Standing Quietly At The Door, Each Dexterously Seized one Of His 
   Hands With Such An Iron Grasp That, After A Momentary Struggle, He Gave 
   Up, Conscious Of The Hopelessness Of Resistance. 
     
     
     
   "If You Will Go Quietly With Us We Will Employ No Force," Said The Man 
   In Uniform; "Otherwise We Must Use These;" And Haldane Shuddered as 
   Light Steel Manacles Were Produced. "These Men Are Officers Like Myself, 
   And You See That You Stand No Chance With Three Of Us." 
     
     
     
   "Well, Lead On, Then," Was The Sullen Answer. "I Will Go Quietly If You 
   Don'T Use Those, But If You Do, I Will Not Yield While There Is A Breath 
   Of Life In me." 
     
     
     
   "A Most Desperate And Hardened wretch!" Ejaculated the Reporter, Sopping 
   His Streaming Nose. 
     
     
     
   With A Dark Look And Deep Malediction Upon His Employer, Haldane Was Led 
   Away. 
     
     
     
   Mr. Arnot Was In no Gentle Mood, For, While He Had Carried out His 
   Programme, The Machinery Of The Legal Process Had Not Worked smoothly. 
   Very Disagreeable Things Had Been Said To Him In the Hearing Of His 
   Clerks And Others. "Of Course, They Are Not True," Thought The 
   Gentleman; "But His Insolent Words Will Go Out In the Accounts Of The 
   Affair As Surely As My Own." 
     
     
     
   If Haldane Had Been Utterly Overwhelmed and Broken Down, And Had Shown 
   Only The Cringing Spirit Of A Detected and Whipped cur, Mr. Arnot'S 
   Complacency Would Have Been Perfect. But As It Was, The Affair Had Gone 
   Forward In a Jarring, Uncomfortable Manner, Which Annoyed and Irritated 
   Him As Would A Defective, Creaking Piece Of Mechanism In one Of His 
   Factories. Opposition, Friction Of Any Kind, Only Made His Imperious 
   Will More Intolerant Of Disobedience Or Neglect; Therefore He Summoned 
   Pat In a Tone Whose Very Accent Foretold The Doom Of The "Intelligent 
   Irishman." 
     
     
     
   "Did I Not Order You To Give No Information To Any One Concerning What 
   Occurred last Night?" He Demanded in his Sternest Tone. 
     
     
     
   Pat Hitched and Wriggled, For Giving Up His Forty Dollars A Month Was 
   Like A Surgical Operation. He Saw That His Master Was Incensed, And In 
   No Mood For Extenuation; So He Pleaded-- 
     
     
     
   "Misther Arnot, Won'T Ye Plaze Slape On It Afore Ye Gives Me Me 
   Discharge. If Ye'Ll Only Think A Bit About Them Newspaper Men, Ye'Ll 
   Know It Could Not Be Helped a' Tall. If They Suspicion That A Man Has 
   Anything In him That They'Re Wantin' To Know, They The Same As Put A 
   Corkscrew Intil Him, And Pull Till Somethin' Comes, And Thin They Make 
   Up The Rest. Faix, Sur, I Niver Could O' Got By 'Em Aloive Wid Me 
   Letther Onless A Little O' The News Had Gone Intil Their Rav'Nous Maws." 
     
     
     
   "Then I'Ll Find A Man Who Can Get By Them, And Who Is Able To Obey My 
   Orders To The Letter. The Cashier Will Pay You Up To Date; Then Leave 
   The Premises." 
     
     
     
   "Och, Misther Arnot, Me Woife'Ll Be The Death O' Me, And Thin Ye'Ll Have 
   Me Bluid On Yer Sowl. Give Me One More--" 
     
     
     
   "Begone!" Said His Employer Harshly; "Too Much Time Has Been Wasted 
   Already." 
     
     
     
   Pat Found That His Case Was So Desperate That He Became Reckless, And, 
   Instead Of Slinking Off, He, Too Showed the Same Insubordination And 
   Disregard For Mr. Arnot'S Power And Dignity That Had Been So Irritating 
   In Haldane. Clapping His Hat On One Side Of His Head, And With Such An 
   Insolent Cant Forward That It Quite Obscured his Left Eye, Pat Rested 
   His Hands On His Hips, And With One Foot Thrust Out Sidewise, He Fixed 
   His Right Eye On His Employer With The Expression Of Sardonic 
   Contemplation, And Then Delivered himself As Follows: 
     
     
     
   "The Takin' Up A Few Minits O' Yer Toime Is A Moighty Tirrible Waste, 
   But The Sindin' Of A Human Bain To The Divil Is No Waste A' Tall A' 
   Tall: That'S The Way Ye Rason, Is It? I Allers Heerd That Yer In'Ards 
   Were Made O' Cast-Iron, And I Can Belave--" 
     
     
     
   "Leave This Office," Thundered mr. Arnot. 
     
     
     
   "Begorry, Ye Can'T Put A Man In jail For Spakin' His Moind, Nor For 
   Spakin' The Truth. If Ye Had Given Me A Chance I'D Been Civil And 
   Obadient The Rist O' Me Days. But Whin Ye Act To'Ard A Man As If He Was 
   A Lump O' Dirt That Ye Can Kick Out O' The Way, And Go On, Ye'Ll Foind 
   That The Lump O' Dirt Will Lave Some Marks On Yer Nice Clothes. I Tell 
   Ye Till Yer Flinty Ould Face That Ye'R A Hard-Hearted riprobate That 'Ud 
   Grind A Poor Divil To Paces As Soon As Any Mash-Shine In all Yer Big 
   Factories. Ye'Ll See The Day Whin Ye'Ll Be Under Somebody'S Heel 
   Yerself, Bad Luck To Yez!" 
     
     
     
   Pat'S Irate Volubility Flowed in such A Torrent That Even Mr. Arnot 
   Could Not Check It Until He Saw Fit To Drop The Sluice-Gates Himself, 
   Which, With A Contemptuous Sniff, And An Expression Of Concentrated 
   Wormwood And Gall, He Now Did. Lifting His Battered hat A Little More 
   Toward The Perpendicular, He Went To The Cashier'S Desk, Obtained his 
   Money, And Then Jogged slowly And Aimlessly Down The Street, Leaving a 
   Wake Of Strange Oaths Behind Him. 
     
     
     
   Thus Mr. Arnot'S System Again Ground Out The Expected result; But The 
   Plague Of Humanity Was That It Would Not Endure The Grinding Process 
   With The Same Stolid, Inert Helplessness Of Other Raw Material. Though 
   He Had Had His Way In each Instance, He Grew More And More Dissatisfied 
   And Out Of Sorts. This Vituperation Of Himself Would Not Tend To Impress 
   His Employes With Awe, And Strike A Wholesome Fear In their Hearts. The 
   Culprits, Instead Of Slinking away Overwhelmed with Guilt And The Weight 
   Of His Displeasure, Had Acted and Spoken As If He Were A Grim Old 
   Tyrant; And He Had A Vague, Uncomfortable Feeling That His Clerks In 
   Their Hearts Sided with Them And Against Him. It Even Occurred to Him 
   That He Was Creating a Relation Between Himself And Those In his Service 
   Similar To That Existing Between Master And Slaves; And That, Instead Of 
   Forming a Community With Identical Interests, He Was On One Side And 
   They On The Other. But, With The Infatuation Of A Selfish Nature And 
   Imperious Will, He Muttered: 
     
     
     
   "Curse Them! I'Ll Make Them Move In my Grooves, Or Toss Them Out Of The 
   Way!" Then, Summoning His Confidential Clerk, He Said: 
     
     
     
   "You Know All About The Affair. You Will Oblige Me By Going To The 
   Office Of The Justice, And Stating The Case, With The Prisoner'S 
   Admissions. I Do Not Care To Appear Further In the Matter, Except By 
   Proxy, Unless It Is Necessary." 
     
   
   
   
   Chapter XII (A Memorable Meeting) 
   Mrs. Arnot Had Looked upon Haldane'S Degradation With Feelings Akin To 
   Disgust And Anger, But As Long, Sleepless Hours Passed, Her Thoughts 
   Grew More Gentle And Compassionate. She Was By Nature An Advocate Rather 
   Than A Judge. Not The Spirit Of The Disciples, That Would Call Down Fire 
   From Heaven, But The Spirit Of The Master, Who Sought To Lay His 
   Healing, Rescuing Hand On Every Lost Creature, Always Controlled her 
   Eventually. Human Desert Did Not Count As Much With Her As Human Need, 
   And Her Own Sorrows Had Made Her Heart Tender Toward The Sufferings Of 
   Others, Even Though Well Merited. 
     
     
     
   The Prospect That The Handsome Youth, The Son Of Her Old Friend, Would 
   Cast Himself Down To Perish In the Slough Of Dissipation, Was A Tragedy 
   That Wrung Her Heart With Grief; And When At Last She Fell Asleep It Was 
   With Tears Upon Her Face. 
     
     
     
   Forebodings Had Followed laura Also, Even Into Her Dreams, And At Last, 
   In A Frightful Vision, She Saw Her Uncle Placing a Giant On Guard Over 
   The House. Her Uncle Had Scarcely Disappeared before Haldane Tried to 
   Escape, But The Giant Raised his Mighty Club, As Large And Heavy As The 
   Mast Of A Ship, And Was About To Strike When She Awoke With A Violent 
   Start. 
     
     
     
   In Strange Unison With Her Dream She Still Heard Her Uncle'S Voice In 
   The Garden Below. She Sprang To The Window, Half Expecting To See The 
   Giant Also, Nor Was She Greatly Reassured on Observing an Unknown Man 
   Posted in the Summer-House And Left There. Mr. Arnot'S Mysterious 
   Action, And The Fact That He Was Out At That Early Hour, Added to The 
   Disquiet Of Mind Which The Events Of The Preceding Night Had Created. 
     
     
     
   Her Simple Home-Life Had Hitherto Flowed like A Placid Stream In sunny 
   Meadows, But Now It Seemed as If The Stream Were Entering a Forest Where 
   Dark And Ominous Shadows Were Thrown Across Its Surface. She Was Too 
   Womanly To Be Indifferent To The Fate Of Any Human Being. At The Same 
   Time She Was Still So Much Of A Child, And So Ignorant Of The World, 
   That Haldane'S Action, Even As She Understood It, Loomed up Before Her 
   Imagination As Something awful And Portentous Of Unknown Evils. She Was 
   Oppressed with A Feeling That A Crushing Blow Impended over Him. Now, 
   Almost As Vividly As In her Dream, She Still Saw The Giant'S Club Raised 
   High To Strike. If It Were Only In a Fairy Tale, Her Sensitive Spirit 
   Would Tremble At Such A Stroke, But Inasmuch As It Was Falling On One 
   Who Had Avowed passionate Love For Her, She Felt Almost As If She Must 
   Share In its Weight. The Idea Of Reciprocating any Feeling That 
   Resembled his Passion Had At First Been Absurd, And Now, In view Of What 
   He Had Shown Himself Capable, Seemed impossible; And Yet His Strongly 
   Expressed regard For Her Created a Sort Of Bond Between Them In spite Of 
   Herself. She Had Realized the Night Before That He Would Be Immediately 
   Dismissed and Sent Home In disgrace; But Her Dream, And The Glimpse She 
   Had Caught Of Her Uncle And The Observant Stranger, Who, As She Saw, 
   Still Maintained his Position, Suggested worse Consequences, Whose Very 
   Vagueness Made Them All The More Dreadful. 
     
     
     
   As It Was Still A Long Time Before The Breakfast Hour, She Again Sought 
   Her Couch, And After A While Fell Into A Troubled sleep, From Which She 
   Was Awakened by Her Aunt. Hastily Dressing, She Joined mrs. Arnot At A 
   Late Breakfast, And Soon Discovered that She Was Worried and Anxious As 
   Well As Herself. 
     
     
     
   "Has Mr. Haldane Gone Out?" She Asked. 
     
     
     
   "Yes; And What Perplexes Me Is That Two Strangers Followed him To The 
   Street So Rapidly That They Almost Seemed in pursuit." 
     
     
     
   Then Laura Related what She Had Seen, And Her Aunt'S Face Grew Pale And 
   Somewhat Rigid As She Recognized the Fact That Her Husband Was Carrying 
   Out Some Plan, Unknown To Her, Which Might Involve A Cruel Blow To Her 
   Friend, Mrs. Haldane, And An Overwhelming Disgrace To Egbert Haldane. At 
   The Same Time The Thought Flashed upon Her That The Young Man'S Offence 
   Might Be Graver Than She Had Supposed. But She Only Remarked quietly: 
     
     
     
   "I Will Go Down To The Office And See Your Uncle After Breakfast." 
     
     
     
   "Oh, Auntie, Please Let Me Go With You," Said Laura Nervously. 
     
     
     
   "I May Wish To See My Husband Alone," Replied mrs. Arnot Doubtfully, 
   Foreseeing a Possible Interview Which She Would Prefer Her Niece Should 
   Not Witness. 
     
     
     
   "I Will Wait For You In the Outer Office, Auntie, If You Will Only Let 
   Me Go. I Am So Unstrung That I Cannot Bear To Be Left In the House 
   Alone." 
     
     
     
   "Very Well, Then; We'Ll Go Together, And A Walk In the Open Air Will Do 
   Us Both Good." 
     
     
     
   As Mrs. Arnot Was Finishing Her Breakfast She Listlessly Took Up The 
   Morning "Courier," And With A Sudden Start Read The Heavy Head-Lines And 
   Paragraph Which Pat'S Unlucky Venture As A Reporter Had Occasioned. 
     
     
     
   "Come, Laura, Let Us Go At Once," Said She, Rising Hastily; And As Soon 
   As They Could Prepare Themselves For The Street They Started toward The 
   Central Part Of The City, Each Too Busy With Her Own Thoughts To Speak 
   Often, And Yet Each Having a Grateful Consciousness Of Unspoken Sympathy 
   And Companionship. 
     
     
     
   As They Passed down The Main Street They Saw A Noisy Crowd Coming Up The 
   Sidewalk Toward Them, And They Crossed over To Avoid It. But The 
   Approaching Throng Grew So Large And Boisterous That They Deemed it 
   Prudent To Enter The Open Door Of A Shop Until It Passed. Their Somewhat 
   Elevated position Gave Them A Commanding View, And A Policeman'S Uniform 
   At Once Indicated that It Was An Arrest That Had Drawn Together The 
   Loose Human Atoms That Are Always Drifting about The Streets. The 
   Prisoner Was Followed by A Retinue That Might Have Bowed the Head Of An 
   Old And Hardened offender With Shame--Rude, Idle, Half-Grown Boys, With 
   Their Morbid Interest In every Thing Tending To Excitement And Crime, 
   Seedy Loungers Drawn Away From Saloon Doors Where They Are As Surely To 
   Be Found As Certain Coarse Weeds In foul, Neglected corners--A Ragged, 
   Unkempt, Repulsive Jumble Of Humanity, That Filled the Street With 
   Gibes, Slang, And Profanity. Laura Was About To Retreat Into The Shop In 
   Utter Disgust, When Her Aunt Exclaimed in a Tone Of Sharp Distress: 
     
     
     
   "Merciful Heaven! There Is Egbert Haldane!" 
     
     
     
   With Something Like A Shock Of Terror She Recognized her Quondam Lover, 
   The Youth Who Had Stood At Her Side And Turned her Music. But As She Saw 
   Him Now There Appeared an Immeasurable Gulf Between Them; While Her Pity 
   For Him Was Profound, It Seemed as Helpless And Hopeless In his Behalf 
   As If He Were A Guilty Spirit That Was Being Dragged away To Final Doom. 
     
     
     
   Her Aunt'S Startled exclamation Caught The Young Man'S Attention, For It 
   Was A Voice That He Would Detect Among A Thousand, And He Turned his 
   Livid Face, With Its Agonized, Hunted look, Directly Toward Them. 
     
     
     
   As Their Eyes Met--As He Saw The One Of All The World That He Then Most 
   Dreaded to Meet, Laura Romeyn, Regarding Him With A Pale, Frightened 
   Face, As If He Were A Monster, A Wild Beast, Nay, Worse, A Common Thief 
   On His Way To Jail--He Stopped abruptly, And For A Second Seemed to 
   Meditate Some Desperate Act. But When He Saw The Rabble Closing On Him, 
   And Heard The Officers Growl In surly Tones, "Move On," A Sense Of 
   Helplessness As Well As Of Shame Overwhelmed him. He Shivered visibly, 
   Dashed his Hat Down Over His Eyes, And Strode On, Feeling at Last That 
   The Obscurity Of A Prison Cell Would Prove A Welcome Refuge. 
     
     
     
   But Mrs. Arnot Had Recognized the Intolerable Suffering and Humiliation 
   Stamped on The Young Man'S Features; She Had Seen The Fearful, Shrinking 
   Gaze At Herself And Laura, The Lurid Gleam Of Desperation, And Read 
   Correctly The Despairing Gesture By Which He Sought To Hide From Them, 
   The Rabble, And All The World, A Countenance From Which He Already Felt 
   That Shame Had Blotted all Trace Of Manhood. 
     
     
     
   Her Face Again Wore A Gray, Rigid Aspect, As If She Had Received a Wound 
   That Touched her Heart; And, Scarcely Waiting For The Miscellaneous 
   Horde To Pass, She Took Laura'S Arm, And Said Briefly And Almost 
   Sternly: 
     
     
     
   "Come." 
     
     
     
   Mr. Arnot'S Equanimity Was Again Destined to Be Disturbed. Until He Had 
   Commenced to Carry Out His Scheme Of Striking Fear Into The Hearts Of 
   His Employes, He Had Derived much Grim Satisfaction From Its 
   Contemplation. But Never Had A Severe And Unrelenting Policy Failed more 
   Signally, And A Partial Consciousness Of The Fact Annoyed him Like A 
   Constant Stinging Of Nettles Which He Could Not Brush Aside. When, 
   Therefore, His Wife Entered, He Greeted her With His Heaviest Frown, And 
   A Certain Twitching Of His Hands As He Fumbled among His Papers, Which 
   Showed that The Man Who At Times Seemed composed of Equal Parts Of Iron 
   And Lead Had At Last Reached a Condition Of Nervous Irritability Which 
   Might Result In an Explosion Of Wrath; And Yet He Made A Desperate 
   Effort At Self-Control, For He Saw That His Wife Was In one Of Those 
   Moods Which He Had Learned to Regard With A Wholesome Respect. 
     
     
     
   "You Have Sent Haldane To Prison," She Said Calmly. Though Her Tone Was 
   So Quiet, There Was In it A Certain Depth And Tremble Which Her Husband 
   Well Understood, But He Only Answered briefly: 
     
     
     
   "Yes; He Must Go There If He Finds No Bail." 
     
     
     
   "May I Ask Why?" 
     
     
     
   "He Robbed me Of A Thousand Dollars." 
     
     
     
   "Were There No Extenuating Circumstances?" Mrs. Arnot Asked, After A 
   Slight Start. 
     
     
     
   "No, But Many Aggravating Ones." 
     
     
     
   "Did He Not Come Here Of His Own Accord?" 
     
     
     
   "He Could Not Have Done Otherwise. I Had Detectives Watching Him." 
     
     
     
   "He Could Have Tried to Do Otherwise. Did He Not Offer Some 
   Explanation?" 
     
     
     
   "What He Said Amounted to A Confession Of The Crime." 
     
     
     
   "What Did He Say?" 
     
     
     
   "I Have Not Charged my Mind With All The Rash, Foolish Words Of The 
   Young Scapegrace. It Is Sufficient For Me That He And All In my Employ 
   Received a Lesson Which They Will Not Soon Forget. I Wish You Would 
   Excuse Me From Further Consideration Of The Subject At Present. It Has 
   Cost Me Too Much Time Already." 
     
     
     
   "You Are Correct," Said Mrs. Arnot Very Quietly. "It Is Likely To Prove 
   A Very Costly Affair. I Tremble To Think What Your Lesson May Cost This 
   Young Man, Whom You Have Rendered reckless And Desperate By This Public 
   Disgrace; I Tremble To Think What This Event May Cost My Friend, His 
   Mother. Of The Pain It Has Cost Me I Will Not Speak--" 
     
     
     
   "Madam," Interrupted mr. Arnot Harshly, "Permit Me To Say That This Is 
   An Affair Concerning Which A Sentimental Woman Can Have No Correct 
   Understanding. I Propose To Carry On My Business In the Way Which 
   Experience Has Taught Me Is Wise, And, With All Respect To Yourself, I 
   Would Suggest That In these Matters Of Business I Am In my Own 
   Province." 
     
     
     
   The Ashen Hue Deepened upon Mrs. Arnot'S Face, But She Answered quietly: 
     
     
     
   "I Do Not Wish To Overstep The Bounds Which Should Justly Limit My 
   Action And My Interest In this Matter. You Will Also Do Me The Justice 
   To Remember That I Have Never Interfered in your Business, And Have 
   Rarely Asked you About It, Though In the World'S Estimation I Would Have 
   Some Right To Do So. But If Such Harshness, If Such Disastrous Cruelty, 
   Is Necessary To Your Business, I Must Withdraw My Means From It, For I 
   Could Not Receive Money Stained, As It Were, With Blood. But Of This 
   Hereafter. I Will Now Telegraph Mrs. Haldane To Come Directly To Our 
   House--" 
     
     
     
   "To Our House!" Cried mr. Arnot, Perfectly Aghast. 
     
     
     
   "Certainly. Can You Suppose That, Burdened with This Intolerable 
   Disgrace, She Could Endure The Publicity Of A Hotel? I Shall Next Visit 
   Haldane, For As I Saw Him In the Street, With The Rabble Following, He 
   Looked desperate Enough To Destroy Himself." 
     
     
     
   "Now, I Protest Against All This Weak Sentimentality," Said Mr. Arnot, 
   Rising. "You Take Sides With A Robber Against Your Husband." 
     
     
     
   "I Do Not Make Light Of Haldane'S Offence To You, And Certainly Shall 
   Not To Him. But It Is His First Offence, As Far As We Know, And, Though 
   You Have Not Seen Fit To Inform Me Of The Circumstances, I Cannot 
   Believe That He Committed a Cool, Deliberate Theft. He Could Have Been 
   Made To Feel His Guilt Without Being Crushed. The Very Gravity Of His 
   Wrong Action Might Have Awakened him To His Danger, And Have Been The 
   Turning-Point Of His Life. He Should Have Had At Least One Chance--God 
   Gives Us Many." 
     
     
     
   "Well, Well," Said Mr. Arnot Impatiently, "Let His Mother Return The 
   Money, And I Will Not Prosecute. But Why Need mrs. Haldane Come To 
   Hillaton? All Can Be Arranged by Her Lawyer." 
     
     
     
   "You Know Little Of A Mother'S Feelings If You Can Suppose She Will Not 
   Come Instantly." 
     
     
     
   "Well, Then, When The Money Is Paid She Can Take Him Home, That Is, 
   After The Forms Of Law Are Complied with." 
     
     
     
   "But He Must Remain In prison Till The Money Is Paid?" 
     
     
     
   "Certainly." 
     
     
     
   "You Intimated that If Any One Went Bail For Him He Need not Go To 
   Prison. I Will Become His Security." 
     
     
     
   "O Nonsense! I Might As Well Give Bail Myself." 
     
     
     
   "Has He Reached the Prison Yet?" 
     
     
     
   "I Suppose He Has," Replied mr. Arnot, Taking Care To Give No Hint Of 
   The Preliminary Examination, For It Would Have Annoyed him Excessively 
   To Have His Wife Appear At A Police Court Almost In the Light Of An 
   Antagonist To Himself. And Yet His Stubborn Pride Would Not Permit Him 
   To Yield, And Carry Out With Considerate Delicacy The Merciful Policy 
   Upon Which He Saw She Was Bent. 
     
     
     
   "Good-Morning," Said His Wife Very Quietly, And She At Once Left Her 
   Husband'S Private Room. Laura Rose From Her Chair In the Outer Office 
   And Welcomed her Gladly, For, In her Nervous Trepidation, The Minutes 
   Had Seemed like Hours. Mrs. Arnot Went To A Telegraph Office, And Sent 
   The Following Despatch To Mrs. Haldane: 
     
     
     
   "Come To My House At Once. Your Son Is Well, But Has Met With 
   Misfortune." 
     
     
     
   She Then, With Laura, Returned immediately Home And Ordered her Carriage 
   For A Visit To The Prison. She Also Remembered with Provident Care That 
   The Young Man Could Not Have Tasted food That Morning. 
   
   
   
   Chapter XIII (Our Knight In jail) 
   As Haldane Emerged from The Office Into The Open Glare Of The Street, He 
   Was Oppressed with Such An Intolerable Sense Of Shame That He Became 
   Sick And Faint, And Tottered against The Policeman, Who Took No Other 
   Notice Of His Condition Than The Utterance Of A Jocular Remark: 
     
     
     
   "You Haven'T Got Over Your Drunk Yet, I'M Athinking." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Made No Reply, And The Physical Weakness Gradually Passed away. 
   As His Stunned and Bewildered mind Regained the Power To Act, He Became 
   Conscious Of A Morbid Curiosity To See How He Was Regarded by Those Whom 
   He Met. He Knew That Their Manner Would Pierce Like Sword-Thrusts, And 
   Yet Every Scornful Or Averted face Had A Cruel Fascination. 
     
     
     
   With A Bitterness Of Which His Young Heart Had Never Before Had Even A 
   Faint Conception, He Remembered that This Cold And Contemptuous, This 
   Scoffing and Jeering World Was The Same In which Only Yesterday He 
   Proposed to Tower In such Lofty Grandeur That The Maiden Who Had 
   Slighted him Should Be Consumed with Vain Regret In memory Of Her Lost 
   Opportunity. He Had, Indeed, Gained eminence Speedily. All The Town Was 
   Hearing Of Him; But The Pedestal Which Lifted him So High Was Composed 
   Equally Of Crime And Folly, And He Felt As If He Might Stand As A 
   Monument Of Shame. 
     
     
     
   But His Grim And Legal Guardians Tramped along In the Most Stolid And 
   Indifferent Manner. The Gathering Rabble At Their Heels Had No Terror 
   For Them. Indeed, They Rather Enjoyed parading Before Respectable 
   Citizens This Dangerous Substratum Of Society. It Was A Delicate Way Of 
   Saying, "Behold In these Your Peril, And In us Your Defence. We Are 
   Necessary To Your Peace And Security. Respect Us And Pay Us Well." 
     
     
     
   They Represented the Majesty Of The Law, Which Could Lay Its Strong Hand 
   On High And Low Alike, And The Publicity Which Was Like A Scorching Fire 
   To Haldane Brought Honor To Them. 
     
     
     
   Although The Journey Seemed interminable To The Culprit, They Were Not 
   Long In reaching The Police Court, Where The Magistrate Presiding Had 
   Already Entered on His Duties. All Night Long, And Throughout The Entire 
   City, The Scavengers Of The Law Had Been At Work, And Now, As A Result, 
   Every Miserable Atom Of Humanity That Had Made Itself A Pestilential 
   Offence To Society Was Gathered here To Be Disposed of According To 
   Sanatory Moral Rules. 
     
     
     
   Hillaton Was A Comparatively Well-Behaved and Decorous City; But In 
   Every Large Community There Is Always A Certain Amount Of Human 
   Sediment, And Haldane Felt That He Had Fallen Low Indeed, When He Found 
   Himself Classed and Huddled with Miserable Objects Whose Existence He 
   Had Never Before Realized. Near Him Stood Men Who Apparently Had Barely 
   Enough Humanity Left To Make Their Dominating animal Natures More 
   Dangerous And Difficult To Control. To The Instincts Of A Beast Was 
   Added something Of A Man'S Intelligence, But So Developed that It Was 
   Often Little More Than Cunning. If, When Throwing away His Manhood, Man 
   Becomes A Creature More To Be Dreaded than A Beast Or Venomous Reptile, 
   Whichever He Happens Most To Resemble, Woman, Parting With Her 
   Womanhood, Scarcely Finds Her Counterpart Even In the Most Noxious Forms 
   Of Earthly Existence. She Becomes, In her Perversion, Something That Is 
   Unnatural And Monstrous; Something, So Opposite To The Creator'S Design, 
   As To Suggest It Only In caricature, Or, More Often, In fiendish 
   Mockery. The Gorgons, Sirens, And Harpies Of The Ancients Are Scarcely 
   Myths, For Their Fabled forms Only Too Accurately Portray, Not The 
   Superficial And Transient Outward Appearance, But The Enduring Character 
   Within. 
     
     
     
   Side By Side With Haldane Stood A Creature Whose Dishevelled, Rusty 
   Hair, Blotched and Bloated features, Wanton, Cunning, Restless Eyes, 
   Combined perfectly To Form The Head Of The Mythological Harpy. It 
   Required little Effort Of The Imagination To Believe That Her Foul, 
   Bedraggled dress Concealed the "Wings And Talons Of The Vulture." Being 
   Still Unsteady From Her Night'S Debauch, She Leaned against The Young 
   Man, And When He Shrank In loathing away, She, To Annoy Him, Clasped him 
   In Her Arms, To The Uproarious Merriment Of The Miscellaneous Crowd That 
   Is Ever Present At A Police Court. Haldane Broke Away From Her Grasp 
   With Such Force As To Make Quite A Commotion, And At The Same Time Said 
   Loudly And Fiercely To The Officer Who Had Arrested him: 
     
     
     
   "You May Have Power To Take Me To Jail, But You Have Not, And Shall Not 
   Have, The Right Nor The Power To Subject Me To Such Indignities." 
     
     
     
   "Silence There! Keep Order In the Court!" Commanded the Judge. 
     
     
     
   The Officer Removed his Prisoner A Little Further Apart From The Others, 
   Growling as He Did So: 
     
     
     
   "If You Don'T Like Your Company, You Should Have Kept Out Of It." 
     
     
     
   Even In his Overwhelming anxiety And Distress Haldane Could Not Forbear 
   Giving a Few Curious Glances At His Companions. He Had Dropped out Of 
   His Old World Into A New One, And These Were Its Inhabitants. In their 
   Degradation And Misery He Seemed to See Himself And His Future 
   Reflected. What Had The Policeman Said?--"Your Company," And With A 
   Keener Pang Than He Had Yet Experienced he Realized that This Was His 
   Company, That He Now Belonged to The Criminal Classes. He Who Yesterday 
   Had The Right To Speak To Laura Romeyn, Was Now Herded with Drunkards, 
   Thieves, And Prostitutes; He Who Yesterday Could Enter Mrs. Arnot'S 
   Parlor, Might Now As Easily Enter Heaven. As The Truth Of His Situation 
   Gradually Dawned upon Him, He Felt As If An Icy Hand Were Closing Upon 
   His Heart. 
     
     
     
   But Little Time, However, Was Given Him For Observation Or Bitter 
   Revery. With The Rapid And Routine-Like Manner Of One Made Both Callous 
   And Expert By Long Experience, The Magistrate Was Sorting and Disposing 
   Of The Miserable Waifs. Now He Has Before Him The Inmates Of A 
   "Disorderly House," Upon Which A "Raid" Had Been Made The Previous 
   Night. What Is That Fair Young Girl With Blue Eyes Doing among Those 
   Coarse-Featured human Dregs, Her Companions? She Looks Like A White Lily 
   That Has Been Dropped into A Puddle. Perhaps That Delicate And 
   Attractive Form Is But A Disguise For The Harpy'S Wings And Claws. 
   Perhaps A Gross, Bestial Spirit Is Masked by Her Oval Madonna-Like Face. 
   Perhaps She Is The Victim Of One Upon Whom God Will Wreak His Vengeance 
   Forever, Though Society Has For Him Scarcely A Frown. 
     
     
     
   The Puddle Is Suddenly Drained off Into Some Law-Ordained receptacle, 
   And The White Lily Is Swept Away With It. She Will Not Long Suggest A 
   Flower That Has Been Dropped into The Gutter. The Stains Upon Her Soul 
   Will Creep Up Into Her Face, And Make Her Hideous Like The Rest. 
     
     
     
   The Case Of Egbert Haldane Was Next Called. As The Policeman Had Said, 
   His Own Admissions Were Now Used against Him, For The Confidential 
   Clerk, And, If There Was Need, The Broken-Nosed reporter, Were On Hand 
   To Testify To All That Had Been Said. The Young Man Made No Attempt To 
   Conceal, But Tried to Explain More Fully The Circumstances Which Led to 
   The Act, Hoping That In them The Justice Would Find Such Extenuating 
   Elements As Would Prevent A Committal To Prison. 
     
     
     
   The Judge Recognized and Openly Acknowledged the Fact That It Was Not A 
   Case Of Deliberate Wrongdoing, And He Ordered the Arrest Of The Superior 
   Young Gentleman Who Had Introduced the New York Gamblers To Their 
   Victim; And Yet In the Eye Of The Law It Was A Clear Case Of 
   Embezzlement; And, As Mr. Arnot'S Friend, The Magistrate Felt Little 
   Disposition To Prevent Things From Taking Their Usual Course. The 
   Prisoner Must Either Furnish Bail At Once, Or Be Committed until He 
   Could Do So, Or Until The Case Could Be Properly Tried. As Haldane Was A 
   Comparative Stranger In hillaton There Was No One To Whom He Felt He 
   Could Apply, And He Supposed it Would Require Some Little Time For His 
   Mother To Arrange The Matter. Upon His Signifying That He Could Not 
   Furnish Bail Immediately, The Judge Promptly Ordered his Committal To 
   The Common Jail Of The City, Which Happened to Be At Some Distance From 
   The Building Then Employed for The Preliminary Examinations. 
     
     
     
   It Was While On His Way To This Place Of Detention That He Heard Mrs. 
   Arnot'S Voice, And Encountered her Eyes And Those Of Laura Romeyn. His 
   First Impulse Was To End Both His Suffering and Himself By Some 
   Desperate Act, But He Was Powerless Even To Harm Himself. 
     
     
     
   The Limit Of Endurance, However Had Been Reached. The Very Worst That He 
   Could Imagine Had Befallen Him. Laura Romeyn Had Looked upon His 
   Unutterable Shame And Disgrace. From A Quivering and Almost Agonizing 
   Sensibility To His Situation He Reacted into Sullen Indifference. He No 
   Longer Saw The Sun Shining In the Sky, Nor The Familiar Sights Of The 
   Street; He No Longer Heard Nor Heeded the Jeering Rabble That Came 
   Tramping after. He Became For The Time Scarcely More Than A Piece Of 
   Mechanism, That Barely Retained the Power Of Voluntary Motion, But Had 
   Lost Ability To Feel And Think. When, At Last, He Entered his Narrow 
   Cell, Eight Feet By Eight, The Wish Half Formed itself In his Mind That 
   It Was Six Feet By Two, And That He Might Hide In it Forever. 
     
     
     
   He Sat Down On The Rough Wooden Couch Which Formed the Only Furniture Of 
   The Room, And Buried his Face In his Hands, Conscious Only Of A Dull, 
   Leaden Weight Of Pain. He Made No Effort To Obtain Legal Counsel Or To 
   Communicate His Situation To His Mother. Indeed, He Dreaded to See Her, 
   And He Felt That He Could Not Look His Sisters In the Face Again. The 
   Prison Cell Seemed a Refuge From The Terrible Scorn Of The World, And 
   His Present Impulse Was To Cower Behind Its Thick Walls For The Rest Of 
   His Life. 
     
   
   
   
   Chapter XIV (Mr. Arnot'S System Works Badly) 
   Mr. Arnot Was So Disturbed by His Wife'S Visit That He Found It 
   Impossible To Return To The Routine Of Business, And, Instead Of 
   Maintaining The Cold, Lofty Bearing Of A Man Whose Imperious Will Awed 
   And Controlled all Within Its Sphere, He Fumed up And Down His Office 
   Like One Who Had Been Caught In the Toils Himself. In the Morning It Had 
   Seemed that There Could Not Have Been A Fairer Opportunity To Vindicate 
   His Iron System, And Make It Irresistible. The Offending Subject In his 
   Business Realm Should Receive Due Punishment, And All The Rest Be Taught 
   That They Were Governed by Inexorable Laws, Which Would Be Executed with 
   The Certainty And Precision With Which The Wheels Moved in a Great 
   Factory Under The Steady Impulse Of The Motor Power. But The Whole 
   Matter Now Bade Fair To End In a Tangled snarl, Whose Final Issue No One 
   Could Foretell. 
     
     
     
   He Was Sensitive To Public Opinion, And Had Supposed that His Course 
   Would Be Upheld And Applauded, And He Be Commended as A Conservator Of 
   Public Morals. He Now Feared, However, That He Would Be Portrayed as 
   Harsh, Grasping, And Unfeeling. It Did Not Trouble Him That He Was So, 
   But That He Would Be Made To Appear So. 
     
     
     
   But His Wife'S Words In reference To The Withdrawal Of Her Large 
   Property From His Business Was A Far More Serious Consideration. He Had 
   Learned how Resolute And Unswerving She Could Be In matters Of 
   Conscience, And He Knew That She Was Not In the Habit Of Making Idle 
   Threats In moments Of Irritation. If, Just At This Time, When He Was 
   Widely Extending His Business, She Should Demand A Separate Investment 
   Of Her Means, It Would Embarrass And Cripple Him In no Slight Degree. If 
   This Should Be One Of The Results Of His Master-Stroke, He Would Have 
   Reason To Curse His Brilliant Policy All His Days. He Would Now Be Only 
   Too Glad To Get Rid Of The Haldane Affair On Any Terms, For Thus Far It 
   Had Proved only A Source Of Annoyance And Mortification. He Was Somewhat 
   Consoled, However, When His Confidential Clerk Returned and Intimated 
   That The Examination Before The Justice Had Been Brief; That Haldane Had 
   Eagerly Stated his Case To The Justice, But When That Dignitary Remarked 
   That It Was A Clear Case Of Embezzlement, And That He Would Have To 
   Commit The Prisoner Unless Some One Went Security For His Future 
   Appearance, The Young Fellow Had Grown Sullen And Answered, "Send Me To 
   Jail Then; I Have No Friends In this Accursed city." 
     
     
     
   To Men Of The Law And Of Sense The Case Was As Clear As Daylight. 
     
     
     
   But Mr. Arnot Was Not By Any Means Through With His Disagreeable 
   Experiences. He Had Been A Manufacturer Sufficiently Long To Know That 
   When A Piece Of Machinery Is Set In motion, Not Merely The Wheels 
   Nearest To One Will Move, But Also Others That For The Moment May Be Out 
   Of Sight. He Who Proposes To Have A Decided influence Upon A 
   Fellow-Creature'S Destiny Should Remember Our Complicated relations, For 
   He Cannot Lay His Strong Grasp Upon One Life Without Becoming Entangled 
   In The Interests Of Many Others. 
     
     
     
   Mr. Arnot Was Finding This Out To His Cost, For He Had Hardly Composed 
   Himself To His Writing again Before There Was A Rustle Of A Lady'S 
   Garments In the Outer Office, And A Hasty Step Across The Threshold Of 
   His Private _Sanctum_. Looking Up, He Saw, To His Dismay, The Pale, 
   Frightened face Of Mrs. Haldane. 
     
     
     
   "Where Is Egbert?--Where Is My Son?" She Asked abruptly. 
     
     
     
   At That Moment Mr. Arnot Admitted to Himself That He Had Never Been 
   Asked so Embarrassing a Question In all His Life. Before Him Was His 
   Wife'S Friend, A Lady Of The Highest Social Rank, And She Was So 
   Unmistakably A Lady That He Could Treat Her With Only The Utmost 
   Deference. He Saw With Alarm Himself The Mother'S Nervous And Trembling 
   Apprehension, For There Was Scarcely Anything Under Heaven That He Would 
   Not Rather Face Than A Scene With A Hysterical Woman. If This Was To Be 
   The Climax Of His Policy He Would Rather Have Lost The Thousand Dollars 
   Than Have Had It Occur. Rising From His Seat, He Said Awkwardly: 
     
     
     
   "Really, Madam, I Did Not Expect You Here This Morning." 
     
     
     
   "I Was On My Way To New York, And Decided to Stop And Give My Son A 
   Surprise. But This Paper--This Dreadful Report--What Does It Mean?" 
     
     
     
   "I Am Sorry To Say, Madam, It Is All Too True," Replied mr. Arnot 
   Uneasily. "Please Take A Chair, Or Perhaps It Would Be Better For You To 
   Go At Once To Our House And See Mrs. Arnot," He Added, Now Glad To 
   Escape The Interview On Any Terms. 
     
     
     
   "What Is Too True?" She Gasped. 
     
     
     
   "I Think You Had Better See Mrs. Arnot; She Will Explain," Said The 
   Unhappy Man, Who Felt That His System Was Tumbling In chaos About His 
   Ears. "Let Me Assist You To Your Carriage." 
     
     
     
   "Do You Think I Can Endure The Suspense Of Another Moment? In mercy 
   Speak--Tell Me The Worst!" 
     
     
     
   "Well," Said Mr. Arnot, With A Shiver Like That Of One About To Plunge 
   Into A Cold Bath, "I Suppose You Will Learn Sooner Or Later That Your 
   Son Has Committed a Very Wrong Act. But," He Added hastily, On Seeing 
   Mrs. Haldane'S Increasing Pallor, "There Are Extenuating 
   Circumstances--At Least, I Shall Act As If There Were." 
     
     
     
   "But What Has He Done--Where Is He?" Cried the Mother In agony. Then She 
   Added in a Frightened whisper, "But The Matter Can Be Hushed up--There 
   Need be No Publicity--Oh, That Would Kill Me! Please Take Steps--" 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Arnot," Said A Young Man Just Entering, And Speaking In a Piping, 
   Penetrating Voice," I Represent The 'Evening Spy.' I Wish To Obtain From 
   You For Publication The Particulars Of This Disgraceful Affair" Then, 
   Seeing Mrs. Haldane, Who Had Dropped her Veil, And Was Trembling 
   Violently, He Added, "I Hope I Am Not Intruding; I--" 
     
     
     
   "Yes, Sir, You Are Intruding," Said Mr. Arnot Harshly. 
     
     
     
   "Then, Perhaps, Sir, You Will Be So Kind As To Step Outside For A 
   Moment. I Can Take Down Your Words Rapidly, And--" 
     
     
     
   "Step Outside Yourself, Sir. I Have Nothing Whatever To Say To You." 
     
     
     
   "I Beg You To Reconsider That Decision, Sir. Of Course, A Full Account 
   Of The Affair Must Appear In this Evening'S 'Spy.' It Will Be Your Own 
   Fault If It Is Not True In all Respects. It Is Said That You Have Acted 
   Harshly In the Matter--That It Was Young Haldane'S First Offence, 
   And--" 
     
     
     
   "Leave My Office!" Thundered mr. Arnot. 
     
     
     
   The Lynx-Eyed reporter, While Speaking Thus Rapidly, Had Been 
   Scrutinizing The Veiled and Trembling Lady, And He Was Scarcely 
   Disappointed that She Now Rose Hastily, And Threw Back Her Veil As She 
   Said Eagerly: 
     
     
     
   "Why Must The Whole Affair Be Published? You Say Truly That His Offence, 
   Whatever It Is, Is His First. Surely The Editor Of Your Paper Will Not 
   Be So Cruel As To Blast A Young Man Forever With Disgrace!" 
     
     
     
   "Mrs. Haldane, I Presume," Said The Reporter, Tracing a Few 
   Hieroglyphics In his Note-Book. 
     
     
     
   "Yes," Continued the Lady, Speaking From The Impulse Of Her Heart, 
   Rather Than From Any Correct Knowledge Of The World, "And I Will Pay 
   Willingly Any Amount To Have The Whole Matter Quietly Dropped. I Could 
   Not Endure Anything Of This Kind, For I Have No Husband To Shelter Me, 
   And The Boy Has No Father To Protect Him." 
     
     
     
   Mr. Arnot Groaned in spirit That He Had Not Considered this Case In any 
   Of Its Aspects Save Those Which Related to His Business. He Had Formed 
   The Habit Of Regarding all Other Considerations As Unworthy Of 
   Attention, But Here, Certainly, Was A Most Disagreeable Exception. 
     
     
     
   "You Touch My Feelings Deeply," Said The Reporter, In a Tone That Never 
   For A Second Lost Its Professional Cadence, "But I Much Regret That Your 
   Hopes Cannot Be Realized. Your Son'S Act Could Scarcely Be Kept A Secret 
   After The Fact--Known To All--That He Has Been Openly Dragged to Prison 
   Through The Streets," And The Gatherer Of News And Sensations Kept An 
   Eye On Each Of His Victims As He Made This Statement. A Cabalistic Sign 
   In His Note-Book Indicated the Visible Wincing Of The Enraged and 
   Half-Distracted manufacturer, Whose System Was Like An Engine Off The 
   Track, Hissing and Helpless; And A Few Other Equally Obscure Marks 
   Suggested to The Initiated the Lady'S Words As She Half Shrieked: 
     
     
     
   "My Son Dragged through The Streets To Prison! By Whom--Who Could Do So 
   Dreadful?"--And She Sank Shudderingly Into A Chair, And Covered her Face 
   With Her Hands, As If To Shut Out A Harrowing Vision. 
     
     
     
   "I Regret To Say, Madam, That It Was By A Policeman," Added the 
   Reporter. 
     
     
     
   "And Thither A Policeman Shall Drag You, If You Do Not Instantly Vacate 
   These Premises!" Said Mr. Arnot, Hoarse With Rage. 
     
     
     
   "Thank You For Your Courtesy," Answered the Reporter, Shutting His Book 
   With A Snap Like That Of A Steel Trap. "I Have Now About All The Points 
   I Wish To Get Here. I Understand That Mr. Patrick M'Cabe Is No Longer 
   Under Any Obligations To You, And From Him I Can Learn Additional 
   Particulars. Good-Morning." 
     
     
     
   "Yes, Go To That Unsullied source Of Truth, Whom I Have Just Discharged 
   For Lying and Disobedience. Go To Perdition, Also, If You Please; But 
   Take Yourself Out Of My Office," Said Mr. Arnot Recklessly, For He Was 
   Growing Desperate From The Unexpected complications Of The Case. Then He 
   Summoned one Of His Clerks, And Said In a Tone Of Authority, "Take This 
   Lady To My Residence, And Leave Her In the Care Of Mrs. Arnot." 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Haldane Rose Unsteadily, And Tottered toward The Door. 
     
     
     
   "No," Said She Bitterly; "I May Faint In the Street, But I Will Not Go 
   To 
   Your House." 
     
     
     
   "Then Assist The Lady To Her Carriage;" And Mr. Arnot Turned the Key Of 
   His Private Office With Muttered imprecations Upon The Whole Wretched 
   Affair. 
     
     
     
   "Whither Shall I Tell The Man To Drive?" Asked the Clerk, After Mrs. 
   Haldane Had Sunk Back Exhausted on The Seat. 
     
     
     
   The Lady Put Her Hand To Her Brow, And Tried to Collect Her Distracted 
   Thoughts, And, After A Moment'S Hesitation, Said: 
     
     
     
   "To The Prison." 
     
     
     
   The Carriage Containing Mrs. Haldane Stopped at Last Before The Gloomy 
   Massive Building, The Upper Part Of Which Was Used as A Court-Room And 
   Offices For City And County Officials, While In the Basement Were 
   Constructed the Cells Of The Prison. It Required a Desperate Effort On 
   The Part Of The Timid And Delicate Lady, Who For Years Had Almost Been A 
   Recluse From The World, To Summon Courage To Alight And Approach A Place 
   That To Her Abounded in many And Indefinite Horrors. She Was Too 
   Preoccupied to Observe That Another Carriage Had Drawn Up To The 
   Entrance, And The First Intimation That She Had Of Mrs. Arnot'S Presence 
   Occurred when That Lady Took Her Hand In the Shadow Of The Porch, And 
   Said: 
     
     
     
   "Mrs. Haldane, I Am Greatly Surprised to See You Here; But You Can Rely 
   Upon Me As A True Friend Throughout This Trial. I Shall Do All In my 
   Power To--" 
     
     
     
   After The First Violent Start Caused by Her Disturbed nervous Condition, 
   Mrs. Haldane Asked, In a Reproachful And Almost Passionate Tone: 
     
     
     
   "Why Did You Not Prevent--" And Then She Hesitated, As If She Could Not 
   Bring Herself To Utter The Concluding Words. 
     
     
     
   "I Could Not; I Did Not Know; But Since I Heard I Have Been Doing 
   Everything In my Power." 
     
     
     
   "It Was Your Husband Who--" 
     
     
     
   "Yes," Replied mrs. Arnot, Sadly, Completing In thought Her Friend'S 
   Unfinished sentence. "But I Had No Part In the Act, And No Knowledge Of 
   It Until A Short Time Since. I Am Now Doing all I Can To Procure Your 
   Son'S Speedy Release. My Husband'S Action Has Been Perfectly Legal, And 
   We, Who Would Temper Justice With Mercy, Must Do So In a Legal Way. 
   Permit Me To Introduce You To My Friend, Mr. Melville. He Can Both 
   Advise Us And Carry Out Such Arrangements As Are Necessary;" And Mrs. 
   Haldane Saw That Mrs. Arnot Was Accompanied by A Gentleman, Whom In her 
   Distress She Had Not Hitherto Noticed. 
     
     
     
   The Janitor Now Opened the Door, And Ushered them Into A Very Plain 
   Apartment, Used both As An Office And Reception-Room. Mrs. Haldane Was 
   So Overcome By Her Emotion That Her Friend Led her To A Chair, And 
   Continued her Reassuring Words In a Low Voice Designed for Her Ears 
   Alone: 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Melville Is A Lawyer, And Knows How To Manage These Matters. You 
   May Trust Him Implicitly. I Will Give Security For Your Son'S Future 
   Appearance, Should It Be Necessary, And I Am Quite Satisfied it Will Not 
   Be, As My Husband Has Promised me That He Will Not Prosecute If The 
   Money Is Refunded." 
     
     
     
   "I Would Have Paid Ten Times The Amount--Anything Rather Than Have 
   Suffered this Public Disgrace," Sobbed the Poor Woman, Who, True To Her 
   Instincts And Life-Long Habit Of Thought, Dwelt More Upon The Consequent 
   Shame Of Her Son'S Act Than Its Moral Character. 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Melville Says He Will Give Bail In his Own Name For Me," Resumed 
   Mrs. Arnot, "As, Of Course, I Do Not Wish To Appear To Be Acting In 
   Opposition To My Husband. Indeed, I Am Not, For He Is Willing That Some 
   Such An Arrangement Should Be Made. He Has Very Many In his Employ, And 
   Feels That He Must Be Governed by Rigid Rules. Mr. Melville Assures Me 
   That He Can Speedily Effect Egbert'S Release. Perhaps It Will Save You 
   Pain To Go At Once To Our House And Meet Your Son There." 
     
     
     
   "No," Replied the Mother, Rising, "I Wish To See Him At Once. I _Do_ 
   Appreciate _Your_ Kindness, But I Cannot Go To The Place Which Shelters 
   Your Husband. I Can Never Forgive Him. Nor Can I Go To A Hotel. I Would 
   Rather Stay In this Prison Until I Can Hide Myself And My Miserable Son 
   In Our Own Home. Oh, How Dark And Dreadful Are God'S Ways! To Think That 
   The Boy That I Had Brought Up In the Church, As It Were, Should Show 
   Such Unnatural Depravity!" Then, Stepping To The Door, She Said To The 
   Under-Sheriff In waiting, "Please Take Me To My Son At Once, If 
   Possible." 
     
     
     
   "Would You Like Me To Go With You?" Asked mrs. Arnot, Gently. 
     
     
     
   "Yes, Yes! For I May Faint On The Way. Oh, How Differently This Day Is 
   Turning Out From What I Expected! I Was In hopes That Egbert Could Meet 
   Me In a Little Trip To New York, And I Find Him In prison!" 
   
   
   
   Chapter XV (Haldane'S Resolve) 
   It Was Not In accordance With Nature Nor With Haldane'S Peculiar 
   Temperament That He Should Remain Long Under A Stony Paralysis Of Shame 
   And Despair. Though Tall And Manlike In appearance, He Was Not A Man. 
   Boyish Traits And Impulses Still Lingered; Indeed, They Had Been 
   Fostered and Maintained longer Than Usual By A Fond And Indulgent 
   Mother. It Was Not An Evidence Of Weakness, But Rather A Wholesome 
   Instinct Of Nature, That His Thoughts Should Gradually Find Courage To 
   Go To That Mother As His Only Source Of Comfort And Help. She, At Least, 
   Would Not Scorn Him, And With Her He Might Find A Less Dismal Refuge 
   Than His Narrow Cell, Should It Be Possible To Escape Imprisonment. If 
   It Were Not, He Was Too Young And Unacquainted with Misfortune Not To 
   Long For A Few Kind Words Of Comfort. 
     
     
     
   He Did Not Even Imagine That Mrs. Arnot, The Wife Of His Employer, Would 
   Come Near Him In his Deep Disgrace. Even The Thought Of Her Kindness And 
   His Requital Of It Now Stung Him To The Quick, And He Fairly Writhed as 
   He Pictured to Himself The Scorn That Must Have Been On Laura'S Face As 
   She Saw Him On His Way To Prison Like A Common Thief. 
     
     
     
   As He Remembered how Full Of Rich Promise Life Was But A Few Days Since, 
   And How All Had Changed even More Swiftly And Unexpectedly Than The 
   Grotesque Events Of A Horrid Dream, He Bowed his Head In his Hands And 
   Sobbed like A Grief-Stricken Child. 
     
     
     
   "O Mother, Mother," He Groaned, "If I Could Only Hear Your Voice And 
   Feel Your Touch, A Little Of This Crushing Weight Might Be Lifted off My 
   Heart!" 
     
     
     
   Growing Calmer After A Time, He Was Able To Consider His Situation More 
   Connectedly, And He Was About To Summon The Sheriff In charge Of The 
   Prison, That He Might Telegraph His Mother, When He Heard Her Voice As, 
   In The Company Of That Official, She Was Seeking Her Way To Him. 
     
     
     
   He Shrank Back In his Cell. His Heart Beat Violently As He Heard The 
   Rustle Of Her Dress. The Sheriff Unlocked the Grated iron Door Which Led 
   To The Long, Narrow Corridor Into Which The Cells Opened, And To Which 
   Prisoners Had Access During The Day. 
     
     
     
   "He'S In that Cell, Ladies," Said The Officer'S Voice, And Then, With 
   Commendable Delicacy, Withdrew, Having First Ordered the Prisoners In 
   His Charge To Their Cells. 
     
     
     
   "Lean Upon My Arm," Urged a Gentle Voice, Which Haldane Recognized as 
   That Of Mrs. Arnot. 
     
     
     
   "O, This Is Awful!" Moaned the Stricken Woman; "This Is More Than 
   _I_ Can Endure." 
     
     
     
   The Pronoun She Used threw A Chill On The Heart Of Her Son, But When She 
   Tottered to The Door Of His Cell He Sprang Forward With The Low, 
   Appealing Cry: 
     
     
     
   "Mother!" 
     
     
     
   But The Poor Gentlewoman Was So Overcome That She Sank Down On A Bench 
   By The Door, And, With Her Face Buried in her Hands, As If To Shut Out A 
   Vision That Would Blast Her, She Rocked back And Forth In anguish, As 
   She Groaned: 
     
     
     
   "O Egbert, Egbert! You Have Disgraced me, You Have Disgraced your 
   Sisters, You Have Disgraced yourself Beyond Remedy. O God! What Have I 
   Done To Merit This Awful, This Overwhelming Disaster?" 
     
     
     
   With Deep Pain And Solicitude Mrs. Arnot Watched the Young Man'S Face As 
   The Light From The Grated window Fell Upon It. The Appeal That Trembled 
   In His Voice Had Been More Plainly Manifest In his Face, Which Had Worn 
   An Eager And Hopeful Expression, And Even Suggested the Spirit Of The 
   Little Child When In some Painful Emergency It Turns To Its First And 
   Natural Protector. 
     
     
     
   But Most Marked was The Change Caused by The Mother'S Lamentable Want Of 
   Tact And Self-Control, For That Same Face Became Stony And Sullen. 
   Instead Of Showing a Spirit Which Deep Distress And Crushing Disaster 
   Had Made Almost Childlike In its Readiness To Receive A Mother'S Comfort 
   Once More, He Suddenly Became, In appearance, A Hardened criminal. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Longed to Undo By Her Kindness The Evil Which Her Friend Was 
   Unwittingly Causing, But Could Not Come Between Mother And Son. She 
   Stooped down, However, And Whispered: 
     
     
     
   "Mrs. Haldane, Speak Kindly To Your Boy. He Looked to You For Sympathy. 
   Do Not Let Him Feel That You, Like The World, Are Against Him." 
     
     
     
   "O No," Said Mrs. Haldane, Her Sobs Ceasing Somewhat, "I Mean To Do My 
   Duty By Him. He Shall Always Have A Good Home, But Oh! What A Blight And 
   A Shadow He Has Brought To That Home! That I Should Have Ever Lived to 
   See This Day! O Egbert, Egbert! Your Sisters Will Have To Live Like 
   Nuns, For They Can Never Even Go Out Upon The Street Again; And To Think 
   That The Finger Of Scorn Should Be Pointed after You In the City Where 
   Your Father Made Our Name So Honorable!" 
     
     
     
   "It Never Shall Be," Said Haldane Coldly. "You Have Only To Leave Me In 
   Prison To Be Rid Of Me A Long Time." 
     
     
     
   "Leave You, In prison!" Exclaimed his Mother; "I Would As Soon Stay Here 
   Myself. No; Through Mrs. Arnot'S Kindness, Arrangements Are Made For 
   Your Release. I Shall Then Take You To Our Miserable Home As Soon As 
   Possible." 
     
     
     
   "I Am Not Going Home." 
     
     
     
   "Now, This Is Too Much! What Will You Do?" 
     
     
     
   "I Shall Remain In this City," He Replied, Speaking From An Angry 
   Impulse. "It Was Here I Fell And Covered myself With Shame, And I Shall 
   Here Fight My Way Back To The Position I Lost. The Time Shall Come When 
   You Will No Longer Say I'M A Disgrace To You And My Sisters. My Heart 
   Was Breaking, And The First Word You Greet Me With Is 'Disgrace'; And If 
   I Went Home, Disgrace Would Always Be In your Mind, If Not Upon Your 
   Tongue. I Should Have The Word And Thought Kept Before Me Till I Went 
   Mad. If I Go Home All My Old Acquaintances Would Sneer At Me As A 
   Mean-Spirited cur, Whose Best Exploit Was To Get In jail, And When His 
   Mother Obtained his Release He Could Do Nothing More Manly Than Hide 
   Behind Her Apron The Rest Of His Days. As Far As I Can Judge, You And My 
   Sisters Would Have No Better Opinion Of Me. I Have Been A Wicked fool, I 
   Admit, But I Was Not A Deliberate Thief. I Did Hope For A Little Comfort 
   From You. But Since All The World Is Against Me, I'Ll Face And Fight The 
   World. I Have Been Dragged through These Streets, The Scorn Of Every 
   One, And I Will Remain In this City Until I Compel The Respect Of Its 
   Proudest Citizen." 
     
     
     
   The Moment He Ceased his Passionate Utterance, Mrs. Arnot Said Kindly 
   And Gravely: 
     
     
     
   "Egbert, You Are Mistaken. There Was No Scorn In my Eyes, But Rather 
   Deep Pity And Sorrow. While Your Course Has Been Very Wrong, You Have No 
   Occasion To Despair, And As Long As You Will Try To Become A True Man 
   You Shall Have My Sympathy And Friendship. You Do Not Understand Your 
   Mother. She Loves You As Truly As Ever, And Is Willing To Make Any 
   Sacrifice For You. Only, Her Fuller Knowledge Of The World Makes Her 
   Realize More Truly Than You Yet Can The Consequences Of Your Act. The 
   Sudden Shock Has Overwhelmed her. Her Distress Shows How Deeply She Is 
   Wounded, And You Should Try To Comfort Her By A Lifetime Of Kindness." 
     
     
     
   "The Best Way I Can Comfort Her Is By Deeds That Will Wipe Out The 
   Memory Of My Disgrace; And," He Continued, His Impulsive, Sanguine 
   Spirit Kindling With The Thought And Prospect, "I Will Regain All And 
   More Than I Have Lost. The Time Shall Come When Neither She Nor My 
   Sisters Will Have Occasion To Blush For Me, Nor To Seclude Themselves 
   From The World Because Of Their Relation To Me." 
     
     
     
   "I Should Think My Heart Was Sufficiently Crushed and Broken Already," 
   Mrs. Haldane Sobbed, "Without Your Adding To Its Burden By Charging Me 
   With Being an Unnatural Mother. I Cannot Understand How A Boy Brought Up 
   As Religiously As You Have Been Can Show Such Strange Depravity. The 
   Idea That A Child Of Mine Could Do Anything Which Would Bring Him To 
   Such A Place As This!" 
     
     
     
   His Mother'S Words And Manner Seemed to Exasperate Her Son Beyond 
   Endurance, And He Exclaimed passionately: 
     
     
     
   "Well, Curse It All! I Am Here. What'S The Use Of Harping On That Any 
   Longer? Can'T You Listen When I Say I Want To Retrieve Myself? As To My 
   Religious Bringing Up, It Never Did Me A Particle Of Good. If You Had 
   Whipped my Infernal Nonsense Out Of Me, And Made Me Mind When I Was 
   Little--There, There, Mother," He Concluded more Considerately, As She 
   Began To Grow Hysterical Under His Words, "Do, For God'S Sake, Be More 
   Composed! We Can'T Help What Has Happened now. I'Ll Either Change The 
   World'S Opinion Of Me, Or Else Get Out Of It." 
     
     
     
   "How Can I Be Composed when You Talk In so Dreadful A Manner? You Can'T 
   Change The World'S Opinion. It Never Forgives And Never Forgets. It'S 
   The Same As If You Had Said, I'Ll Either Do What Is Impossible Or Throw 
   Away My Life!" 
     
     
     
   "My Dear Mrs. Haldane," Said Mrs. Arnot, Gently But Firmly, "Your Just 
   And Natural Grief Is Such That You Cannot Now Judge Correctly And Wisely 
   Concerning This Matter. The Emergency Is So Unexpected and So Grave That 
   Neither You Nor Your Son Should Form Opinions Or Make Resolves Until 
   There Has Been Time For Calmer Thought. Let Me Take You Home With Me 
   Now, And As Soon As Egbert Is Released he Can Join You There." 
     
     
     
   "No, Mrs. Arnot," Said Haldane Decidedly; "I Shall Never Enter Your 
   Parlor Again Until I Can Enter It As A Gentleman--As One Whom Your 
   Other Guests, Should I Meet Them, Would Recognize As A Gentleman. Your 
   Kindness Is As Great As It Is Unexpected, But I Shall Take No Mean 
   Advantage Of It." 
     
     
     
   "Well, Then," Said Mrs. Arnot With A Sigh, "Nothing Can Be Gained by 
   Prolonging This Painful Interview. We Are Detaining Mr. Melville, And 
   Delaying Egbert'S Release. Come, Mrs. Haldane; I Can Take You To The 
   Private Entrance Of A Quiet Hotel, Where You Can Be Entirely Secluded 
   Until You Are Ready To Return Home. Egbert Can Come There As Soon As The 
   Needful Legal Forms Are Complied with." 
     
     
     
   "No," Said The Young Man With His Former Decision, "Mother And I Must 
   Take Leave Of Each Other Here. Mother Wants No Jail-Birds Calling On Her 
   At The Hotel. When I Have Regained my Social Footing--When She Is Ready 
   To Take My Arm And Walk Up Main Street Of This City--Then She Shall See 
   Me As Often As She Wishes. It Was My Own Cursed folly That Brought Me To 
   The Gutter, And If Mother Will Pay The Price Of My Freedom, I Will Alone 
   And Unaided make My Way Back Among The Highest And Proudest." 
     
     
     
   "I Sincerely Hope You May Win Such A Position," Said Mrs. Arnot Gravely, 
   "And It Is Not Impossible For You To Do So, Though I Wish You Would Make 
   The Attempt In a Different Spirit; But Please Remember That These 
   Considerations Do Not Satisfy And Comfort A Mother'S Heart. You Should 
   Think Of All Her Past Kindness; You Should Realize How Deeply You Have 
   Now Wounded her, And Strive With Tenderness And Patience To Mitigate The 
   Blow." 
     
     
     
   "Mother, I Am Sorry, More Sorry Than You Can Ever Know," He Said, 
   Advancing To Her Side And Taking Her Hand, "And I Have Been Bitterly 
   Punished; But I Did Not Mean To Do What I Did; I Was Drunk--" 
     
     
     
   "Drunk!" Gasped the Mother, "Merciful Heaven!" 
     
     
     
   "Yes, Drunk--May The Next Drop Of Wine I Take Choke Me!--And I Did Not 
   Know What I Was Doing. But Do Not Despair Of Me. I Feel That I Have It 
   In Me To Make A Man Yet. Go Now With Mrs. Arnot, And Aid In her Kind 
   Efforts To Procure My Release. When You Have Succeeded, Return Home, And 
   Think Of Me As Well As You Can Until I Make You Think Better," And He 
   Raised and Kissed her With Something Like Tenderness, And Then Placed 
   Within Mrs. Arnot'S Arm The Hand Of The Poor Weak Woman, Who Had Become 
   So Faint And Exhausted from Her Conflicting Emotions That She Submitted 
   To Be Led away After A Feeble Remonstrance. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Sent Mr. Melville To The Prisoner, And Also The Food She Had 
   Brought. She Then Took Mrs. Haldane To A Hotel, Where, In the Seclusion 
   Of Her Room, She Could Have Every Attention And Comfort. With Many 
   Reassuring Words She Promised to Call Later In the Day, And If Possible 
   Bring With Her The Unhappy Cause Of The Poor Gentlewoman'S Distress. 
     
   
   
   
   Chapter XVI (The Impulses Of Wounded pride) 
   That Which At First Was Little More Than An Impulse, Caused by Wounded 
   Pride, Speedily Developed into A Settled purpose, And Haldane Would 
   Leave His Prison Cell Fully Bent On Achieving Great Things. In 
   Accordance With A Tendency In impulsive Natures, He Reacted from 
   Something Like Despair Into Quite A Sanguine And Heroic Mood. He Would 
   "Face And Fight The World, Ay, And Conquer It, Too." He Would Go Out 
   Into The Streets Which Had Witnessed his Disgrace, And, Penniless, 
   Empty-Handed, Dowered only With Shame, He Would Prove His Manhood By 
   Winning a Position That Would Compel Respect And More Than Respect. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot, Who Returned immediately To The Prison, Was Puzzled to Know 
   How To Deal With Him. She Approved of His Resolution To Remain In 
   Hillaton, And Of His Purpose To Regain Respect And Position On The Very 
   Spot, As It Were, Where, By His Crime And Folly, He Had Lost Both. She 
   Was Satisfied that Such A Course Promised far Better For The Future Than 
   A Return To His Mother'S Luxurious Home. With All Its Beauty And Comfort 
   It Would Become To Him Almost Inevitably A Slough, Both Of "Despond" And 
   Of Dissipation--Dissipation Of The Worst And Most Hopeless Kind, 
   Wherein The Victim'S Ruling Motive Is To Get Rid Of Self. The Fact That 
   The Young Man Was Capable Of Turning Upon And Facing a Scornful And 
   Hostile World Was A Good And Hopeful Sign. If He Had Been Willing To 
   Slink Away With His Mother, Bent Only On Escape From Punishment And On 
   The Continuance Of Animal Enjoyment, Mrs. Arnot Would Have Felt That His 
   Nature Was Not Sufficiently Leavened with Manhood To Give Hope Of 
   Reform. 
     
     
     
   But While His Action Did Suggest Hope, It Also Contained elements Of 
   Discouragement. She Did Not Find Fault With What He Proposed to Do, But 
   With The Spirit In which He Was Entering On His Most Difficult Task. His 
   Knowledge Of The World Was So Crude And Partial That He Did Not At All 
   Realize The Herculean Labor That He Now Became Eager To Attempt; And He 
   Was Bent On Accomplishing Everything In a Way That Would Minister To His 
   Own Pride, And Proposed to Be Under Obligations To No One. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot, With Her Deep And Long Experience, Knew How Vitally 
   Important It Is That Human Endeavor Should Be Supplemented by Divine 
   Aid, And She Sighed deeply As She Saw That The Young Man Not Only 
   Ignored this Need, But Did Not Even Seem Conscious Of It. Religion Was 
   To Him A Matter Of Form And Profession, To Which He Was Utterly 
   Indifferent. The Truth That God Helps The Distressed as A Father Helps 
   And Comforts His Child, Was A Thought That Then Made No Impression On 
   Him Whatever. God And All Relating To Him Were Abstractions, And He Felt 
   That The Emergency Was Too Pressing, Too Imperative, For Considerations 
   That Had No Practical And Immediate Bearing Upon His Present Success. 
     
     
     
   Indeed, Such Was His Pride And Self-Confidence, That He Refused to 
   Receive From Mrs. Arnot, And Even From His Mother, Anything More Than 
   The Privilege Of Going Out Empty-Handed into The City Which Was To 
   Become The Arena Of His Future Exploits. 
     
     
     
   He Told Mrs. Arnot The Whole Story, And She Had Hoped that She Could 
   Place His Folly And Crime Before Him In its True Moral Aspects, And By 
   Dealing Faithfully, Yet Kindly, With Him, Awaken His Conscience. But She 
   Had The Tact To Discover Very Soon That Such Effort Was Now Worse Than 
   Useless. It Was Not His Conscience, But His Pride, That Had Been Chiefly 
   Wounded. He Felt His Disgrace, His Humiliation, In the Eyes Of Men 
   Almost Too Keenly, And He Was Consumed with Desire To Regain Society'S 
   Favor. But He Did Not Feel His Sin. To God'S Opinion Of Him He Scarcely 
   Gave A Thought. He Regarded his Wrong Act In the Light Of A Sudden And 
   Grave Misfortune Rather Than As The Manifestation Of A Foul And Inherent 
   Disease Of His Soul. He Had Lost His Good Name As A Man Loses His 
   Property, And Believed that He, In his Own Strength, And Without Any 
   Moral Change, Could Regain It. 
     
     
     
   When Parting at The Prison, Mrs. Arnot Gave Him Her Hand, And Said: 
     
     
     
   "I Trust That Your Hopes May Be Realized, And Your Efforts Meet With 
   Success; But I Cannot Help Warning You That I Fear You Do Not Realize 
   What You Are Attempting. The World Is Not Only Very Cold, But Also 
   Suspicious And Wary In its Disposition Toward Those Who Have Forfeited 
   Its Confidence. I Cannot Learn That You Have Any Definite Plans Or 
   Prospects. I Have Never Been Able To Accomplish Much Without God'S Help. 
   You Not Only Seem To Forget Your Need of Him, But You Are Not Even 
   Willing To Receive Aid From Me Or Your Own Mother. I Honor And Respect 
   You For Making The Attempt Upon Which You Are Bent, But I Fear That 
   Pride Rather Than Wisdom Is Your Counsellor In carrying Out Your 
   Resolution; And Both God'S Word And Human Experience Prove That Pride 
   Goes But A Little Way Before A Fall." 
     
     
     
   "I Have Reached a Depth," Replied haldane, Bitterly, "From Whence I 
   Cannot Fall; And It Will Be Hereafter Some Consolation To Remember That 
   I Was Not Lifted out Of The Mire, But That I Got Out. If I Cannot Climb 
   Up Again It Were Better I Perished in the Gutter Of My Shame." 
     
     
     
   "I Am Sorry, Egbert, That You Cut Yourself Off From The Most Hopeful And 
   Helpful Relations Which You Can Ever Sustain. A Father Helps His 
   Children Through Their Troubles, And So God Is Desirous Of Helping Us. 
   There Are Some Things Which We Cannot Do Alone--It Is Not Meant That We 
   Should. God Is Ever Willing To Help Those Who Are Down, And Christians 
   Are Not Worthy Of The Name Unless They Are Also Willing. It Is Our Duty 
   To Make Every Effort Of Which We Ourselves Are Capable; But This Is Only 
   Half Our Duty. Since Our Tasks Are Beyond Our Strength And Ability, We 
   Are Equally Bound To Receive Such Human Aid As God Sends Us, And, Chief 
   Of All, To Ask Daily, And Sometimes Hourly, That His Strength Be Made 
   Perfect In our Weakness. But There Are Some Lessons Which Are Only 
   Learned by Experience. I Shall Feel Deeply Grieved if You Do Not Come Or 
   Send For Me In any Emergency Or Time Of Special Need. In parting, I Have 
   One Favor To Ask, And I Think I Have A Right To Ask It. I Wish You To Go 
   And See Your Mother, And Spend At Least An Hour With Her Before She 
   Returns Home. As A Matter Of Manly Duty, Be Kind And Gentle. Remember 
   How Deeply You Have Wounded her, And That You Are Under The Most Sacred 
   Obligations To Endure Patiently All Reproaches And Expressions Of Grief. 
   If You Will Do This You Will Do Much To Regain My Respect, And It Will 
   Be A Most Excellent Step Toward A Better Life. You Can Gain Society'S 
   Respect Again Only By Doing Your Duty, And Nothing Can Be Duty More 
   Plainly Than This." 
     
     
     
   After A Moment'S Hesitation He Said, "I Do Not Think An Interview With 
   Mother Now Will Do Either Of Us Any Good; But, As You Say, You Have A 
   Right To Ask This, And Much More, Of Me. I Will Go To Her Hotel And Do 
   The Best I Can; But Somehow Mother Don'T Understand Human Nature--Or, At 
   Least, My Nature--And When I Have Been Doing Wrong She Always Makes Me 
   Feel Like Doing Worse." 
     
     
     
   "If You Are To Succeed in your Endeavor You Are Not To Act As You Feel. 
   _You Are To Do Right._ Remember That In your Effort To Win The Position 
   You Wish In this City, You Start With At Least One Friend To Whom You 
   Can Always Come. Good-By," And Mrs. Arnot Returned home Weary And Sad 
   From The Day'S Unforeseen Experiences. 
     
     
     
   In Answer To Laura'S Eager Questioning, She Related what Had Happened 
   Quite Fully, Veiling Only That Which A Delicate Regard For Others Would 
   Lead Her To Pass In silence. She Made The Young Girl Womanly By Treating 
   Her More As A Woman And A Companion Than As A Child. In mrs. Arnot'S 
   Estimation Her Niece Had Reached an Age When Her Innocence And 
   Simplicity Could Not Be Maintained by Efforts To Keep Her Shallow And 
   Ignorant, But By Revealing To Her Life In its Reality, So That She Might 
   Wisely And Gladly Choose The Good From Its Happy Contrast With Evil And 
   Its Inevitable Suffering. 
     
     
     
   The Innocence That Walks Blindly On Amid Earth'S Snares And Pitfalls Is 
   An Uncertain Possession; The Innocence That Recognizes Evil, But Turns 
   From It With Dread And Aversion, Is Priceless. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Told Laura The Story Of The Young Man'S Folly Substantially 
   As He Had Related it To Her, But She Skilfully Showed how One 
   Comparatively Venial Thing Had Led to Another, Until An Act Had Been 
   Committed which Might Have Resulted in years Of Imprisonment. 
     
     
     
   "Let This Sad And Miserable Affair Teach You," Said She, "That We Are 
   Never Safe When We Commence To Do Wrong Or Act Foolishly. We Can Never 
   Tell To What Disastrous Lengths We May Go When We Leave The Path Of 
   Simple Duty." 
     
     
     
   While She Mentioned haldane'S Resolution To Regain, If Possible, His 
   Good Name And Position, She Skilfully Removed from The Maiden'S Mind All 
   Romantic Notions Concerning The Young Man And Her Relation To His 
   Conduct. 
     
     
     
   Laura'S Romantic Nature Would Always Be A Source Both Of Strength And 
   Weakness. While, On The One Hand, It Rendered her Incapable Of A Sordid 
   And Calculating Scheme Of Life, On The Other, It Might Lead To Feeling 
   And Action Prejudicial To Her Happiness. Mrs. Arnot Did Not Intend That 
   She Should Brood Over Haldane Until Her Vivid Imagination Should Weave A 
   Net Out Of His Misfortunes Which Might Insnare Her Heart. It Was Best 
   For Laura That She Should Receive Her Explanations Of Life In very Plain 
   Prose, And The Picture That Her Aunt Presented of Haldane And His 
   Prospects Was Prosaic Indeed. He Was Shown To Be But An Ordinary Young 
   Man, With More Than Ordinarily Bad Tendencies. While She Commended his 
   Effort In itself, She Plainly Stated how Wanting It Was In the True 
   Elements Of Success, And How Great Were Her Fears That It Would Meet 
   With Utter Failure. Thus The Affair Ended, As Far As Laura Was 
   Concerned, In a Sincere Pity For Her Premature Lover, And A Mild And 
   Natural Interest In his Future Welfare--But Nothing More. 
     
     
     
   Mr. Arnot Uttered an Imprecation On Learning That His Wife Had Gone 
   Security For Haldane. But When He Found That She Had Acted through Mr. 
   Melville, In such A Way That The Fact Need not Become Known, He 
   Concluded to Remain Silent Concerning The Matter. He And His Wife Met At 
   The Dinner-Table That Evening as If Nothing Unusual Had Occurred, Both 
   Having Concluded to Ignore All That Had Transpired, If Possible. Mrs. 
   Arnot Saw That Her Husband Had Only Acted characteristically, And, From 
   His Point Of View, Correctly. Perhaps His Recent Experience Would 
   Prevent Him From Being Unduly Harsh Again Should There Ever Be Similar 
   Cause, Which Was Quite Improbable. Since It Appeared that She Could 
   Minister To His Happiness In no Other Way Save Through Her Property, She 
   Decided to Leave Him The One Meagre Gratification Of Which He Was 
   Capable. 
     
     
     
   The Future In its General Aspects May Here Be Anticipated by Briefly 
   Stating That The Echoes Of The Affair Gradually Died away. Mr. Arnot, On 
   The Receipt Of A Check For One Thousand Dollars From Mrs. Haldane'S 
   Lawyer, Was Glad To Procure Mr. Melville'S Release From The Bond For 
   Which His Wife Was Pledged, By Assuring The Legal Authorities That He 
   Would Not Prosecute. The Superior Young Man, Who Made Free Drinks The 
   Ambition Of His Life, Had Kept Himself Well Informed, And On Learning Of 
   The Order For His Arrest Left Town Temporarily For Parts Unknown. The 
   Papers Made The Most Of The Sensation, To The Disgust Of All Concerned, 
   But Reference To The Affair Soon Dwindled down To An Occasional 
   Paragraph. The City Press Concluded editorially That The Great 
   Manufacturer Had Been Harsh Only Seemingly, For The Sake Of Effect, And 
   With The Understanding That His Wife Would Show A Little Balancing 
   Kindness To The Culprit And His Aristocratic Mother. That Haldane Should 
   Still Remain In the City Was Explained on The Ground That He Was Ashamed 
   To Go Home, Or That He Was Not Wanted there. 
     
   
   
   
   Chapter XVII (At Odds With The World) 
   Haldane Kept His Promise To Spend An Hour With His Mother. While He Told 
   Her The Truth Concerning His Folly, He Naturally Tried to Place His 
   Action In the Best Light Possible. After Inducing Her To Take Some 
   Slight Refreshment, He Obtained a Close Carriage, And Saw Her Safely On 
   The Train Which Would Convey Her To The City Wherein She Resided. During 
   The Interview She Grew Much More Composed, And Quite Remorseful That She 
   Had Not Shown Greater Consideration For Her Son'S Feelings, And She 
   Urged and Even Entreated him To Return Home With Her. He Remained firm, 
   However, In his Resolution, And Would Receive From Her Only A Very Small 
   Sum Of Money, Barely Enough To Sustain Him Until He Could Look Around 
   For Employment. 
     
     
     
   His Mother Shared mrs. Arnot'S Distrust, Greatly Doubting The Issue Of 
   His Large Hopes And Vague Plans; But She Could Only Assure Him That Her 
   Home, To Which She Returned crushed and Disconsolate, Was Also His. 
     
     
     
   But He Felt That Return Was Impossible. He Would Rather Wander To The 
   Ends Of The Earth Than Shut Himself Up With His Mother And Sisters, For 
   He Foresaw That Their Daily Moans And Repinings Would Be Daily Torture. 
   It Would Be Even Worse To Appear Among His Old Acquaintances And 
   Companions, And Be Taunted with The Fact That His First Venture From 
   Home Ended in a Common Jail. The Plan Of Drifting away To Parts Unknown, 
   And Of Partially Losing His Identity By Changing His Name, Made A Cold, 
   Dreary Impression Upon Him, Like The Thought Of Annihilation, And Thus 
   His Purpose Of Remaining In hillaton, And Winning Victory On The Very 
   Ground Of His Defeat, Grew More Satisfactory. 
     
     
     
   But He Soon Began To Learn How Serious, How Disheartening, Is The 
   Condition Of One Who Finds Society Arrayed against Him. 
     
     
     
   It Is The Fashion To Inveigh Against The "Cold And Pitiless World"; But 
   The World Has Often Much Excuse For Maintaining This Character. As 
   Society Is Now Constituted, The Consequences Of Wrong-Doing are Usually 
   Terrible And Greatly To Be Dreaded; And All Who Have Unhealthful 
   Cravings For Forbidden Things Should Be Made To Realize This. Society 
   Very Naturally Treats Harshly Those Who Permit Their Pleasures And 
   Passions To Endanger Its Very Existence. People Who Have Toilsomely And 
   Patiently Erected their Homes And Placed therein Their Treasures Do Not 
   Tolerate With Much Equanimity Those Who Appear To Have No Other Calling 
   Than That Of Recklessly Playing With Fire. The Well-To-Do, Conservative 
   World Has No Inclination To Make Things Pleasant For Those Who Propose 
   To Gratify Themselves At Any And Every Cost; And If The Culprit Pleads, 
   "I Did Not Realize--I Meant No Great Harm," The Retort Comes Back, "But 
   You Do The Harm; You Endanger Everything. If You Have Not Sense Or 
   Principle Enough To Act Wisely And Well, Do Not Expect Us To Risk Our 
   Fortunes With Either Fools Or Knaves." And The Man Or The Woman Who Has 
   Preferred pleasure Or Passing Gratification Or Transient Advantage To 
   That Priceless Possession, A Good Name, Has Little Ground For Complaint. 
   If Society Readily Condoned those Grave Offences Which Threaten Chaos, 
   Thousands Who Are Now Restrained by Salutary Fear Would Act Out 
   Disastrously The Evil Lurking In their Hearts. As Long As The Instinct 
   Of Self-Preservation Remains, The World Will Seem Cold And Pitiless. 
     
     
     
   But It Often Is So To A Degree That Cannot Be Too Severely Condemned. 
   The World Is The Most Soulless Of All Corporations. In dealing With The 
   Criminal Or Unfortunate Classes It Generalizes To Such An Extent That 
   Exceptional Cases Have Little Chance Of A Special Hearing. If By Any 
   Means, However, Such A Hearing Can Be Obtained, The World Is Usually 
   Just, And Often Quite Generous. But In the Main It Says To All: "Keep 
   Your Proper Places In the Ranks. If You Fall Out, We Must Leave You 
   Behind; If You Make Trouble, We Must Abate You As A Nuisance." This 
   Certainty Has The Effect Of Keeping Many In their Places Who Otherwise 
   Would Drop Out And Make Trouble, And Is, So Far, Wholesome. And Yet, In 
   Spite Of This Warning Truth, The Wayside Of Life Is Lined with Those 
   Who, For Some Reason, Have Become Disabled and Have Fallen Out Of Their 
   Places; And Miserably Would Many Of Them Perish Did Not The Spirit Of 
   Him Who Came "To Seek And Save The Lost" Animate True Followers Like 
   Mrs. Arnot, Leading Them Likewise To Go Out After The Lame, The Wounded, 
   And The Morally Leprous. 
     
     
     
   Haldane Was Sorely Wounded, But He Chose To Make His Appeal Wholly To 
   The World. Ignoring Heaven, And Those On Earth Representing Heaven'S 
   Forgiving and Saving Mercy, He Went Out Alone, In the Spirit Of Pride 
   And Self-Confidence, To Deal With Those Who Would Meet Him Solely On The 
   Ground Of Self-Interest. How This Law Works Against Such As Have Shown 
   Themselves Unworthy Of Trust, He At Once Began To Receive Abundant 
   Proof. 
     
     
     
   He Returned to The Hotel Whence He Had Just Taken His Mother, But The 
   Proprietor Declined to Give Him Lodgings. It Was A House That Cherished 
   Its Character For Quietness And Eminent Respectability, And A Young 
   Gambler And Embezzler Just Out Of Prison Would Prove An Ill-Omened 
   Guest. On Receiving a Cold And Peremptory Refusal To His Application, 
   And In the Presence Of Several Others, Haldane Stalked haughtily Away; 
   But There Was Misgiving and Faintness At His Heart. Such A Public Rebuff 
   Was A New And Strange Experience. 
     
     
     
   With Set Teeth And Lips Compressed he Next Resolved to Go To The Very 
   Hotel Where He Had Committed his Crime, And From That Starting-Point 
   Fight His Way Up. He Found The Public Room More Than Usually Well Filled 
   With Loungers, And Could Not Help Discovering, As He Entered, That He 
   Was The Subject Of Their Loud And Unsavory Conversation. The "Evening 
   Spy" Had Just Been Read, And All Were Very Busy Discussing The Scandal. 
   As The Knowledge Of His Presence And Identity Was Speedily Conveyed to 
   One And Another In loud Whispers, The Noisy Tongues Ceased, And The 
   Young Man Found Himself The Centre Of An Embarrassing amount Of 
   Observation. But He Endeavored to Give The Idlers A Defiant And Careless 
   Glance As He Walked up To The Proprietor And Asked for A Room. 
     
     
     
   "No, Sir!" Replied that Virtuous Individual, With Sharp Emphasis; "You 
   Have Had A Room Of Me Once Too Often. It'S Not My Way To Have Gamblers, 
   Bloats, And Jail-Birds Hanging around My Place--'Not If The Court Knows 
   Herself; And She Thinks She Does.' You'Ve Done All You Could To Give My 
   Respectable, First-Class House The Name Of A Low Gambling Hell. The 
   Evening Paper Even Hints That Someone Connected with The House Had A 
   Hand In your Being Plucked. You'Ve Damaged me Hundreds Of Dollars, And 
   If You Ever Show Your Face Within My Doors Again I'Ll Have You 
   Arrested." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Was Stung To The Quick, And Retorted vengefully: 
     
     
     
   "Perhaps The Paper Is Right. I Was Introduced to The Blacklegs In your 
   Bar-Room, And By A Scamp Who Was A Habitual Lounger Here. They Got Their 
   Cards Of You, And, Having Made Me Drunk, And Robbed me In one Of Your 
   Rooms, They Had No Trouble In getting away." 
     
     
     
   "Do You Make Any Such Charge Against Me?" Bellowed the Landlord, 
   Starting Savagely Forward. 
     
     
     
   "I Say, As The Paper Says, _Perhaps_," Replied haldane, Standing 
   His Ground, But Quivering With Rage. "I Shall Give You No Ground For A 
   Libel Suit; But If You Will Come Out In the Street You Shall Have All 
   The Satisfaction You Want; And If You Lay The Weight Of Your Finger On 
   Me Here. I'Ll Damage You Worse Than I Did Last Night." 
     
     
     
   "How Dare You Come Here To Insult Me?" Said The Landlord, But Keeping 
   Now At A Safe Distance From The Incensed youth. "Some One, Go For A 
   Policeman, For The Fellow Is Out Of Jail Years Too Soon." 
     
     
     
   "I Did Not Come Here To Insult You, I Came, As Every One Has A Right To 
   Come, To Ask For A Room, For Which I Meant To Pay Your Price, And You 
   Insulted me." 
     
     
     
   "Well, You Can'T Have A Room." 
     
     
     
   "If You Had Quietly Said That And No More In the First Place, There 
   Would Have Been No Trouble. But I Want You And Every One Else To 
   Understand That I Won'T Be Struck, If I Am Down;" And He Turned on His 
   Heel And Strode Out Of The House, Followed by A Volley Of Curses From 
   The Enraged landlord And The Bartender, Who Had Smirked so Agreeably The 
   Evening Before. 
     
     
     
   A Distorted account Of This Scene--Published in the "Courier" The 
   Following Day, In connection With A Detailed account Of The Whole 
   Miserable Affair--Added considerably To The Ill Repute That Already 
   Burdened haldane; For It Was Intimated that He Was As Ready For A Street 
   Brawl As For Any Other Species Of Lawlessness. 
     
     
     
   The "Courier," Having Had The Nose Of Its Representative Demolished by 
   Haldane, Was Naturally Prejudiced against Him; And, Influenced by Its 
   Darkly-Colored narrative, The Citizens Shook Their Heads Over The Young 
   Man, And Concluded that He Was A Dangerous Character, Who Had Become 
   Unnaturally And Precociously Depraved; And There Was Quite A General 
   Hope That Mr. Arnot Would Not Fail To Prosecute, So That The Town Might 
   Be Rid Of One Who Promised to Continue A Source Of Trouble. 
     
     
     
   The "Spy" A Rival Paper, Showed a Tendency To Dwell On The Extenuating 
   Circumstances. But It Is So Much Easier For A Community To Believe Evil 
   Rather Than Good Of A Person, That Mere Excuses And Apologies, And The 
   Suggestion That The Youth Had Been Victimized, Had Little Weight. 
   Besides, The World Shows A Tendency To Detest Weak Fools Even More Than 
   Knaves. 
     
     
     
   After His Last Bitter Experience Haldane Felt Unwilling To Venture To 
   Another Hotel, And He Endeavored to Find A Quiet Boarding-Place; But As 
   Soon As He Mentioned his Name, The Keepers, Male And Female, Suddenly 
   Discovered that They Had No Rooms. Night Was Near, And His Courage Was 
   Beginning To Fail Him, When He At Last Found A Thrifty Gentlewoman Who 
   Gave Far More Attention To Her Housewifely Cares Than To The Current 
   News. She Readily Received the Well-Dressed stranger, And Showed him To 
   His Room. Haldane Did Not Hide His Name From Her, For He Resolved to 
   Spend The Night In the Street Before Dropping a Name Which Now Seemed to 
   Turn People From Him As If Contagion Lurked in it, And He Was Relieved 
   To Find That, As Yet, It Had To Her No Disgraceful Associations. He Was 
   Bent On Securing One Good Night'S Rest, And So Excused himself From 
   Going Down To Supper, Lest He Should Meet Some One That Knew Him. After 
   Nightfall He Slipped out To An Obscure Restaurant For His Supper. 
     
     
     
   His Precaution, However, Was Vain, For On His Return To His Room He 
   Encountered in a Hallway One Of The Loungers Who Had Witnessed the 
   Recent Scene At The Hotel. After A Second'S Stare The Man Passed on Down 
   To The Shabby-Genteel Parlor, And Soon Whist, Novels, And Papers Were 
   Dropped, As The Immaculate Little Community Learned of The Contaminating 
   Presence Beneath The Same Roof With Themselves. 
     
     
     
   "A Man Just Out Of Prison! A Man Merely Released on Bail, And Who Would 
   Certainly Be Convicted and Tried!" 
     
     
     
   With A Virtue Which Might Have Put "Caesar'S Wife" To The Blush, Sere 
   And Withered gentlewomen Pursed up Their Mouths, And Declared that They 
   Could Not Sleep In the Same House With Such A Disreputable Person. The 
   Thrifty Landlady, Whose Principle Of Success Was The Concentration Of 
   All Her Faculties On The Task Of Satisfying The Digestive Organs Of Her 
   Patrons, Found Herself For Once At Fault, And She Was Quite Surprised to 
   Learn What A High-Toned class Of People She Was Entertaining. 
     
     
     
   But, Then, "Business Is Business." Poor Haldane Was But One Uncertain 
   Lodger, And Here Were A Dozen Or More "Regulars" Arrayed against Him. 
   The Sagacious Woman Was Not Long In climbing To The Door Of The 
   Obnoxious Guest, And Her Very Knock Said, "What Are You Doing Here?" 
     
     
     
   Haldane'S First Thought Was, "She Is A Woman; She Will Not Have The 
   Heart To Turn Me Away." He Had Become So Weary And Disheartened that His 
   Pride Was Failing Him, And He Was Ready To Plead For The Chance Of A 
   Little Rest. Therefore He Opened the Door, And Invited the Landlady To 
   Enter In the Most Conciliating Manner. But No Such Poor Chaff Would Be 
   Of Any Avail With One Of Mrs. Gruppins' Experience, And Looking Straight 
   Before Her, As If Addressing No One In particular, She Said 
   Sententiously: 
     
     
     
   "I Wish This Room Vacated within A Half-Hour." 
     
     
     
   "If You Have The Heart Of A Woman You Will Not Send Me Out This Rainy 
   Night. I Am Weary And Sick In body And Mind. I Wouldn'T Turn A Dog Out 
   In The Night And Storm." 
     
     
     
   "You Ought To Be Ashamed of Yourself, Sir," Said Mrs. Gruppins, Turning 
   On Him Indignantly; "To Think That You Should Take Advantage Of A Poor 
   And Defenceless Widow, And Me So Inexperienced and Ignorant Of The 
   Wicked world." 
     
     
     
   "I Did Not Take Advantage Of Your Ignorance: I Told You Who I Was, And 
   Am Able To Pay For The Room. In the Morning I Will Leave Your House, If 
   You Have So Much Objection To My Remaining." 
     
     
     
   "Why Shouldn'T I Object? I Never Had Such As You Here Before. All My 
   Boarders"--She Added in a Louder Tone, For The Benefit Of Those Who Were 
   Listening at The Foot Of The Stairs--"All My Boarders Are Peculiarly 
   Respectable People, And I Would Not Have Them Scandalized by Your 
   Presence Here Another Minute If I Could Help It." 
     
     
     
   "How Much Do I Owe You?" Asked haldane, In a Tone That Was Harsh From 
   Its Suppressed emotion. 
     
     
     
   "I Don'T Want Any Of Your Money--I Don'T Want Anything To Do With People 
   Who Are Lodged at The Expense Of The State. If You Took Money Last 
   Night, There Is No Telling What You Will Take To-Night." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Snatched his Hat And Rushed from The House, Overwhelmed with A 
   Deeper And More Terrible Sense Of Shame And Degradation Than He Had Ever 
   Imagined possible. He Had Become A Pariah, And In bitterness Of Heart 
   Was Realizing The Truth. 
     
   
   
   
   Chapter XVIII (The World'S Verdict--Our Knight A Criminal) 
   A Few Moments Before His Interview With The Thrifty And Respectable Mrs. 
   Gruppins, Haldane Had Supposed himself Too Weary To Drag One Foot After 
   The Other In search Of Another Resting-Place; And Therefore His Eager 
   Hope That That Obdurate Female Might Not Be Gifted with The Same Quality 
   Of "In'Ards" Which Pat M'Cabe Ascribed to Mr. Arnot. He Had, Indeed, 
   Nearly Reached the Limit Of Endurance, For Had He Been In his Best And 
   Most Vigorous Condition, A Day Which Taxed so Terribly Both Body And 
   Mind Would Have Drained his Vitality To The Point Of Exhaustion. As It 
   Was, The Previous Night'S Debauch Told Against Him Like A Term Of 
   Illness. He Had Since Taken Food Insufficiently And Irregularly, And 
   Was, Therefore, In no Condition To Meet The Extraordinary Demands Of The 
   Ordeal Through Which He Was Passing. Mental Distress, Moreover, Is Far 
   More Wearing Than Physical Effort, And His Anguish Of Mind Had Risen 
   Several Times During The Day Almost To Frenzy. 
     
     
     
   In Spite Of All This, The Sharp And Pitiless Tongue Of Mrs. Gruppins 
   Goaded him Again To The Verge Of Desperation, And He Strode Rapidly And 
   Aimlessly Away, Through The Night And Storm, With A Wilder Tempest 
   Raging In his Breast. But The Gust Of Feeling Died away As Suddenly As 
   It Had Arisen, And Left Him Ill And Faint. A Telegraph Pole Was Near, 
   And He Leaned against It For Support. 
     
     
     
   "Move On," Growled a Passing Policeman. 
     
     
     
   "Will You Do Me A Kindness?" Asked haldane; "I Am Poor And Sick--A 
   Stranger. Tell Me Where I Can Hire A Bed for A Small Sum." 
     
     
     
   The Policeman Directed him Down A Side Street, Saying, "You Can Get A 
   Bed at No. 13, And No Questions Asked." 
     
     
     
   There Was Unspeakable Comfort In the Last Assurance, For It Now Seemed 
   That He Could Hope To Find A Refuge Only In places Where "No Questions 
   Were Asked." 
     
     
     
   With Difficulty The Weary Youth Reached the House, And By Paying a Small 
   Extra Sum Was Able To Obtain A Wretched little Room To Himself; But 
   Never Did Storm-Tossed and Endangered sailors Enter A Harbor'S Quiet 
   Waters With A Greater Sense Of Relief Than Did Haldane As He Crept Up 
   Into This Squalid Nook, Which Would At Least Give Him A Little Respite 
   From The World'S Terrible Scorn. 
     
     
     
   What A Priceless Gift For The Unhappy, The Unfortunate--Yes, And For 
   The Guilty--Is Sleep! Many Seem To Think Of The Body Only As A Clog, 
   Impeding Mental Action--As A Weight, Chaining The Spirit Down. Were The 
   Mind, In its Activity, Independent Of The Body--Were The Wounded spirit 
   Unable To Forget Its Pain--Could The Guilty Conscience Sting 
   Incessantly--Then The Chief Human Industry Would Come To Be The Erection 
   Of Asylums For The Insane. But By An Unfathomable Mystery The Tireless 
   Regal Spirit Has Been Blended with The Flesh And Blood Of Its Servant, 
   The Body. In heaven, Where There Is Neither Sin Nor Pain, Even The Body 
   Becomes Spiritual; But On Earth, Where It So Often Happens, As In the 
   Case Of Poor Haldane, That To Think And To Remember Is Torture, It Is A 
   Blessed thing That The Body, Formed from The Earth, Often Becomes Heavy 
   As Earth, And Rests Upon The Spirit For A Few Hours At Least, Like The 
   Clods With Which We Fill The Grave. 
     
     
     
   The Morning Of The Following Day Was Quite Well Advanced when Haldane 
   Awoke From His Long Oblivion, And, After Regaining Consciousness, He Lay 
   A Full Hour Longer Trying To Realize His Situation, And To Think Of Some 
   Plan By Which He Might Best Recover His Lost Position. As He Recalled 
   All That Had Occurred he Began To Understand The Extreme Difficulty Of 
   His Task, And He Even Queried whether It Were Possible For Him To 
   Succeed. If The Respectable Would Not Even Give Him Shelter, How Could 
   He Hope That They Would Employ And Trust Him? 
     
     
     
   After He Had Partaken Of Quite A Hearty Breakfast, However, His Fortunes 
   Began To Wear A Less Forbidding aspect. Endowed with Youth, Health, And, 
   As He Believed, With More Than Usual Ability, He Felt That There Was 
   Scarcely Occasion For Despair. Some One Would Employ Him--Some One Would 
   Give Him Another Chance. He Would Take Any Respectable Work That Would 
   Give Him A Foothold, And By Some Vague, Fortunate Means, Which The 
   Imagination Of The Young Always Supplies, He Would Achieve Success That 
   Would Obliterate The Memory Of The Past. Therefore, With Flashes Of Hope 
   In His Heart, He Started out To Seek His Fortune, And Commenced applying 
   At The Various Stores And Offices Of The City. 
     
     
     
   So Far From Giving any Encouragement, People Were Much Surprised that He 
   Had The Assurance To Ask To Be Employed and Trusted again. The Majority 
   Dismissed him Coldly And Curtly. A Few Mongrel Natures, True To 
   Themselves, Gave A Snarling Refusal. Then There Were Jovial Spirits Who 
   Must Have Their Jest, Even Though The Sensitive Subject Of It Was 
   Tortured thereby--Men Who Enjoyed quizzing Haldane Before Sending Him 
   On, As Much As The Old Inquisitors Relished a Little Recreation With Hot 
   Pincers And Thumb-Screws. There Were Also Conscientious People, Whose 
   Worldly Prudence Prevented them From Giving Employment To One So Damaged 
   In Character, And Yet Who Felt Constrained to Give Some Good Advice. To 
   This, It Must Be Confessed, Haldane Listened with Very Poor Grace, Thus 
   Extending The Impression That He Was A Rather Hopeless Subject. 
     
     
     
   "Good God!" He Exclaimed, Interrupting an Old Gentleman Who Was 
   Indulging In some Platitudes To The Effect That The "Way Of The 
   Transgressor Is Hard"--"I Would Rather Black Your Boots Than Listen To 
   Such Talk. What I Want Is Work--A Chance To Live Honestly. What'S The 
   Use Of Telling a Fellow Not To Go To The Devil, And Then Practically 
   Send Him To The Devil?" 
     
     
     
   The Old Gentleman Was Somewhat Shocked and Offended, And Coldly 
   Intimated that He Had No Need of The Young Man'S Services. 
     
     
     
   A Few Spoke Kindly And Seemed truly Sorry For Him, But They Either Had 
   No Employment To Give, Or, On Business Principles, Felt That They Could 
   Not Introduce Among Their Other Assistants One Under Bonds To Appear And 
   Be Tried for A State-Prison Offence That Was Already The Same As Proved. 
     
     
     
   After Receiving Rebuffs, And Often What He Regarded as Insults, For 
   Hours, The Young Man'S Hope Began To Fail Him Utterly. His Face Grew 
   Pale And Haggard, Not Only From Fatigue, But From That Which Tells 
   Disastrously Almost As Soon Upon The Body As Upon The Mind--Discouragement. 
   He Saw That He Had Not Yet Fully Realized the Consequences Of His Folly. 
   The Deep And Seemingly Implacable Resentment Of Society Was A Continued 
   Surprise. He Was Not Conscious Of Being a Monster Of Wickedness, And It 
   Seemed to Him That After His Bitter Experience He Would Rather Starve 
   Than Again Touch What Was Not His Own. 
     
     
     
   But The Trouble Is, The World Does Not Give Us Much Credit For What We 
   Think, Feel, And Imagine, Even If Aware Of Our Thoughts. It Is What We 
   _Do_ That Forms Public Opinion; And It Was Both Natural And Just That 
   The Public Should Have A Very Decided opinion Of One Who Had Recently 
   Shown Himself Capable Of Gambling, Drunkenness, And Practical Theft. 
     
     
     
   And Yet The Probabilities Were That If Some Kind, Just Man Had Bestowed 
   Upon Haldane Both Employment And Trust, With A Chance To Rise, His 
   Bitter Lesson Would Have Made Him Scrupulously Careful To Shun His 
   Peculiar Temptations From That Time Forward. But The World Usually 
   Regards One Who Has Committed a Crime As A Criminal, And Treats Him As 
   Such. It Cannot, If It Would, Nicely Calculate The Hidden Moral State 
   And Future Chances. It Acts On Sound Generalities, Regardless Of The 
   Exceptions; And Thus It Often Happens That Men And Women Who At First 
   Can Scarcely Understand The World'S Adverse Opinion, Are Disheartened by 
   It, And At Last Come To Merit The Worst That Can Be Said Or Thought. 
     
     
     
   As, At The Time Of His First Arrest, Haldane Had Found His Eyes Drawn By 
   A Strange, Cruel Fascination To Every Scornful Or Curious Face Upon The 
   Street, So Now He Began To Feel A Morbid Desire To Know Just What People 
   Were Saying and Thinking Of Him. He Purchased both That Day'S Papers And 
   Those Of The Previous Day, And, Finding a Little Out-Of-The-Way 
   Restaurant Kept By A Foreigner, He "Supped full With"--What Were To Him 
   Emphatically--"Horrors"; The Dinner And Supper Combined, Which He Had 
   Ordered, Growing Cold, In the Meantime, And As Uninviting as The Place 
   In Which It Was Served. 
     
     
     
   His Eyes Dwelt Longest Upon Those Sentences Which Were The Most 
   Unmercifully Severe, And They Seemed to Burn Their Way Into His Very 
   Soul. Was He In truth Such A Miscreant As The "Courier" Described? Mrs. 
   Arnot Had Not Shrunk From Him As From Contamination; But She Was 
   Different From All Other People That He Had Known; And He Now 
   Remembered, Also, That Even She Always Referred to His Act In a Grave, 
   Troubled way, As If Both Its Character And Consequences Were Serious 
   Indeed. 
     
     
     
   There Was Such A Cold, Leaden Despondency Burdening His Heart That He 
   Felt That He Must Have Relief Of Some Kind. Although Remembering His 
   Rash Invocation Of Fatal Consequences To Himself Should He Touch Again 
   That Which Had Brought Him So Much Evil, He Now, With A Reckless Oath, 
   Muttered that He "Needed some Liquor, And Would Have It." 
     
     
     
   Having Finished a Repast From Which He Would Have Turned in disgust 
   Before His Fortunes Had So Greatly Altered, And Having Gained a Little 
   Temporary Courage From The More Than Doubtful Brandy Served in such A 
   Place, He Obtained permission To Sit By The Fire And Smoke Away The 
   Blustering Evening, For He Felt No Disposition To Face The World Again 
   That Day. The German Proprietor And His Beer-Drinking Patrons Paid No 
   Attention To The Stranger, And As He Sat Off On One Side By Himself At A 
   Table, With A Mug Of Lager Before Him, He Was Practically As Much Alone, 
   And As Lonely, As If In a Desert. 
     
     
     
   In A Dull, Vague Way It Occurred to Him That It Was Very Fitting That 
   Those Present Should Speak In a Foreign And Unknown Tongue, And Act And 
   Look Differently From All Classes Of People Formerly Known To Him. He 
   Was In a Different World, And It Was Appropriate That Everything Should 
   Appear Strange And Unfamiliar. 
     
     
     
   Finding That He Could Have A Room In this Same Little, Dingy 
   Restaurant-Hotel, Where He Had Obtained his Supper, He Resolved that He 
   Would Torture Himself No More That Night With Thoughts Of The Past Or 
   Future, But Slowly Stupefy Himself Into Sleep. 
     
   
   
   
   Chapter XIX (The World'S Best Offer--A Prison) 
   After A Walk In the Sweet April Sunshine The Following Morning, A Hearty 
   Breakfast, And A General Rallying Of The Elastic Forces Of Youth, 
   Haldane Felt That He Had Not Yet Reached the "Brink Of Dark Despair." 
     
     
     
   Indeed, He Had An Odd Sense Of Pride That He Had Survived the Ordeal Of 
   The Last Two Days, And Still Felt As Well As He Did. Although It Was But 
   An Arab'S Life, In which Every Man'S Hand Seemed against Him, Yet He 
   Still Lived, And Concluded that He Could Continue To Live Indefinitely. 
     
     
     
   He Did Not Go Out Again, As On The Previous Day, To Seek Employment, But 
   Sat Down And Tried to Think His Way Into The Future Somewhat. 
     
     
     
   The First Question That Presented itself Was, Should He In any 
   Contingency Return Home To His Mother? 
     
     
     
   He Was Not Long In deciding adversely, For It Seemed to Him To Involve 
   Such A Bitter Mortification That He Felt He Would Rather Starve. 
     
     
     
   Should He Send To Her For Money? 
     
     
     
   That Would Be Scarcely Less Humiliating, For It Was Equivalent To A 
   Confession That He Could Not Even Take Care Of Himself, Much Less 
   Achieve All The Brave Things He Had Intimated. He Was Still More Averse 
   To Going To Mrs. Arnot For What Would Seem Charity To Her Husband And To 
   Every One Else Who Might Hear Of It. The Probability, Also, That Laura 
   Would Learn Of Such An Appeal For Aid Made Him Scout The Very Thought. 
     
     
     
   Should He Go Away Among Strangers, Change His Name, And Commence Life 
   Anew, Unburdened by The Weight Which Now Dragged him Down? 
     
     
     
   The Thought Of Cutting Himself Off Utterly From All Whom He Knew, Or Who 
   Cared for Him, Caused a Cold, Shivering Sense Of Dread. It Would, Also, 
   Be A Confession Of Defeat, An Acknowledgment That He Could Not 
   Accomplish What He Had Promised to Himself And To Others. He Had, 
   Moreover, Sufficient Forethought To Perceive That Any Success Which He 
   Might Achieve Elsewhere, And Under Another Name, Would Be Such A Slight 
   And Baseless Fabric That A Breath From One Who Now Knew Him Could 
   Overturn It. He Might Lead An Honorable Life For Years, And Yet No One 
   Would Believe Him Honorable After Discovering That He Was Living Under 
   An _Alias_ And Concealing a Crime. If He Could Build Himself Up In 
   Hillaton He Would Be Founded on The Rock Of Truth, And Need fear No 
   Disastrous Reverses From Causes Against Which He Could Not Guard. 
     
     
     
   Few Can Be More Miserable Than Those Who Hold Their Fortunes And Good 
   Name On Sufferance--Safe Only In the Power And Disposition Of Others To 
   Keep Some Wretched secret; And He Is But Little Better Off Who Fears 
   That Every Stranger Arriving In town May Recognize In his Face The 
   Features Of One That, Years Before, By Reason Of Some Disgraceful Act, 
   Fled from Himself And All Who Knew Him. The More Haldane Thought Upon 
   The Scheme Of Losing His Identity, And Of Becoming That Vague, And, As 
   Yet, Unnamed stranger, Who After Years Of Exile Would Still Be Himself, 
   Though To The World Not Himself, The Less Attractive It Became. 
     
     
     
   He Finally Concluded that, As He Had Resolved to Remain In hillaton, He 
   Would Keep His Resolution, And That, As He Had Plainly Stated his 
   Purpose To Lift Himself Up By His Own Unaided efforts, He Would Do So If 
   It Were Possible; And If It Were Not, He Would Live The Life Of A 
   Laborer--A Tramp, Even--Rather Than "Skulk Back," As He Expressed it, To 
   Those Who Were Once Kindred and Companions. 
     
     
     
   "If I Cannot Walk Erect To Their Front Doors, I Will Never Crawl Around 
   To The Back Entrances. If I Ever Must Take To Keep From Starving, It 
   Will Be From Strangers. I Shall Never Inflict Myself As A Dead Weight 
   And A Painfully Tolerated infamy On Any One. I Was Able To Get Myself 
   Into This Disgusting Slough, And If I Haven'T Brains And Pluck Enough To 
   Get Myself Out, I Will Remain At This, My Level, To Which I Have 
   Fallen." 
     
     
     
   Thus Pride Still Counselled and Controlled, And Yet It Was A Kind Of 
   Pride That Inspires Something Like Respect. It Proved that There Was 
   Much Good Metal In the Crude, Misshapen Ore Of His Nature. 
     
     
     
   But The Necessity Of Doing Something Was Urgent, For The Sum He Had Been 
   Willing To Receive From His Mother Was Small, And Rapidly Diminishing. 
     
     
     
   Among The Possible Activities In which He Might Engage, That Of Writing 
   For Papers And Magazines Occurred to Him, And The Thought At Once Caught 
   And Fired his Imagination. The Mysteries Of The Literary World Were The 
   Least Known To Him, And Therefore It Offered the Greatest Amount Of 
   Vague Promise And Indefinite Hope. Here A Path Might Open To Both Fame 
   And Fortune. The More He Dwelt On The Possibility The More It Seemed to 
   Take The Aspect Of Probability. Under The Signature Of E. H. He Would 
   Write Thrilling Tales, Until The Public Insisted upon Knowing The Great 
   Unknown. Then He Could Reverse Present Experience By Scorning Those Who 
   Had Scorned him. He Recalled all That He Had Ever Read About Genius 
   Toiling In its Attic Until The World Was Compelled to Recognize And Do 
   Homage To The Regal Mind. He Would Remain In seclusion Also; He Would 
   Burn Midnight Oil Until He Should Come To Be Known As Haldane The 
   Brilliant Writer Instead Of Haldane The Gambler, Drunkard, And Thief. 
     
     
     
   All On Fire With His New Project, He Sallied forth To The Nearest 
   News-Stand, And Selected two Or Three Papers And Magazines, Whose 
   Previous Interest To Him And Known Popularity Suggested that They Were 
   The Best Mediums In which He Could Rise Upon The Public As A Literary 
   Star, All The More Attractive Because Unnamed and Unknown. 
     
     
     
   His Next Proceeding Indicated a Commendable Amount Of Shrewdness, And 
   Proved that His Roseate Visions Resulted more From Ignorance And 
   Inexperience Than From Innate Foolishness. He Carefully Read The 
   Periodicals He Had Bought, In the Hope Of Obtaining Hints And 
   Suggestions From Their Contents Which Would Aid Him In producing 
   Acceptable Manuscripts. Some Of The Sketches And Stories Appeared very 
   Simple, The Style Flowing along As Smoothly And Limpidly As A Summer 
   Brook Through The Meadows. He Did Not See Why He Could Not Write In a 
   Similar Vein, Perhaps More Excitingly And Interestingly. In his Partial 
   And Neglected course Of Study He Had Not Given Much Attention To 
   _Belles-Lettres_, And Was Not Aware That The Simplicity And Lucid 
   Purity Of Thought Which Made Certain Pages So Easily Read Were Produced 
   By The Best Trained and Most Cultured talent Existing among The Regular 
   Contributors. 
     
     
     
   He Spent The Evening and The Greater Part Of A Sleepless Night In 
   Constructing a Crude Plot Of A Story, And, Having Procured writing 
   Materials, Hastened through An Early Breakfast, The Following Morning, 
   In His Eagerness To Enter On What Now Seemed a Shining Path To Fame. 
     
     
     
   He Sat Down And Dipped his Pen In ink. The Blank, White Page Was Before 
   Him, Awaiting His Brilliant And Burning Thoughts; But For Some Reason 
   They Did Not And Would Not Come. This Puzzled him. He Could Dash Off A 
   Letter, And Write With Ease A Plain Business Statement. Why Could He Not 
   Commence And Go On With His Story? 
     
     
     
   "How Do Those Other Fellows Commence?" He Mentally Queried, And He Again 
   Carefully Read And Examined the Opening Paragraphs Of Two Or Three Tales 
   That Had Pleased him. They Seemed to Commence And Go Forward Very Easily 
   And Naturally. Why Could Not He Do The Same? 
     
     
     
   To His Dismay He Found That He Could Not. He Might As Well Have Sat Down 
   And Hoped to Have Deftly And Skilfully Constructed a Watch As To Have 
   Imitated the Style Of The Stories That Most Interested him, For He Had 
   Never Formed even The Power, Much Less The Habit, Of Composition. 
     
     
     
   After A Few Labored and Inconsequential Sentences, Which Seemed like 
   Crude Ore Instead Of The Molten, Burning Metal Of Thought Left To Cool 
   In Graceful Molds, He Threw Aside His Pen In despair. 
     
     
     
   After Staring Despondently For A Time At The Blank Page, Which Now 
   Promised to Remain As Blank As The Future Then Seemed, The Fact Suddenly 
   Occurred to Him That Even Genius Often Spurred its Flagging Or Dormant 
   Powers By Stimulants. Surely, Then, He, In his Pressing Emergency, Had A 
   Right To Avail Himself Of This Aid. A Little Brandy Might Awaken His 
   Imagination, Which Would Then Kindle With His Theme. 
     
     
     
   At Any Rate, He Had No Objection To The Brandy, And With This 
   Inspiration He Again Resumed his Pen. He Was Soon Astonished and 
   Delighted with The Result, For He Found Himself Writing With Ease And 
   Fluency. His Thoughts Seemed to Become Vivid And Powerful, And His Story 
   Grew Rapidly. As Body And Mind Flagged, The Potent Genii In the Black 
   Bottle Again Lifted and Soared on With Him Until The Marvellous Tale Was 
   Completed. 
     
     
     
   He Decided to Correct The Manuscript On The Following Day, And Was So 
   Complacent And Hopeful Over His Performance That He Scarcely Noted that 
   He Was Beginning To Feel Wretchedly From The Inevitable Reaction. The 
   Next Day, With Dull And Aching Head He Tried to Read What He Had 
   Written, But Found It Dreary And Disappointing Work. His Sentences And 
   Paragraphs Appeared like Clouds From Which The Light Had Faded; But He 
   Explained this Fact To Himself On The Ground Of His Depressed physical 
   State, And He Went Through His Task With Dogged persistence. 
     
     
     
   He Felt Better On The Following Day, And With The Aid Of The Bottle He 
   Resolved to Give His Inventive Genius Another Flight. On This Occasion 
   He Would Attempt A Longer Story--One That Would Occupy Him Several 
   Days--And He Again Stimulated himself Up To A Condition In which He 
   Found At Least No Lack Of Words. When He Attained what He Supposed was 
   His Best Mood, He Read Over Again The Work Of The Preceding Day, And Was 
   Delighted to Find That It Now Glowed with Prismatic Hues. In his 
   Complacence He At Once Despatched it To The Paper For Which It Was 
   Designed. 
     
     
     
   Three Or Four Days Of Alternate Work And Brooding Passed, And If Various 
   And Peculiar Moods Prove The Possession Of Genius, Haldane Certainly 
   Might Claim It. Between His Sense Of Misfortune And Disgrace, And The 
   Fact That His Funds Were Becoming Low, On One Hand, And His Towering 
   Hopes And Shivering Fears Concerning His Literary Ventures, On The 
   Other, He Was Emphatically In what Is Termed "A State Of Mind" 
   Continuously. These Causes Alone Were Sufficient To Make Mental Serenity 
   Impossible; But The After-Effects Of The Decoction From Which He 
   Obtained his Inspiration Were Even Worse, And After A Week'S Work The 
   Thought Occurred to Him More Than Once That If He Pursued a Literary 
   Life, Either His Genius Or That Which He Imbibed as Its Spur Would 
   Consume Him Utterly. 
     
     
     
   By The Time The First Two Stories Were Finished he Found That It Would 
   Be Necessary To Supplement The Labors Of His Pen. He Would Have To Wait 
   At Least A Few Days Before He Could Hope For Any Returns, Even Though He 
   Had Urged in his Accompanying Notes Prompt Acceptance And Remittance For 
   Their Value. 
     
     
     
   He Went To The Office Of The "Evening Spy," The Paper Which Had Shown 
   Some Lenience Toward Him, And Offered his Services As Writer, Or 
   Reporter; And, Although Taught By Harsh Experience Not To Hope For Very 
   Much, He Was A Little Surprised at The Peremptory Manner In which His 
   Services Were Declined. His Face Seemed to Ask An Explanation, And The 
   Editor Said Briefly: 
     
     
     
   "We Did Not Bear Down Very Hard On You--It'S Not Our Custom; But Both 
   Inclination And Necessity Lead Us To Require That Every One And 
   Everything Connected with This Paper Should Be Eminently Respectable And 
   Deserving Of Respect. Good-Morning, Sir." 
     
     
     
   Haldane'S Pre-Eminence Consisted only In his Lack Of Respectability; And 
   After The Brave Visions Of The Past Week, Based on His Literary Toil, 
   This Cool, Sharp-Cut Statement Of Society'S Opinion Quenched about All 
   Hope Of Ever Rising By First Gaining Recognition And Employment Among 
   Those Whose Position Was Similar To What His Own Had Been. As He Plodded 
   His Way Back To The Miserable Little Foreign Restaurant, His Mind Began 
   To Dwell On This Question: 
     
     
     
   "Is There Any Place In the World For One Who Has Committed a Crime, Save 
   A Prison?" 
     
   
   
   
   Chapter XX (Maiden And Wood-Sawyer) 
   Before Utterly Abandoning all Hope Of Finding Employment That Should In 
   Some Small Degree Preserve An Air Of Respectability, Haldane Resolved to 
   Give Up One More Day To The Search, And On The Following Morning He 
   Started out And Walked until Nightfall. He Even Offered to Take The 
   Humblest Positions That Would Insure Him A Support And Some Recognition; 
   But The Record Of His Action While In mr. Arnot'S Employ Followed him 
   Everywhere, Creating Sufficient Prejudice In every Case To Lead To A 
   Refusal Of His Application. Some Said "No" Reluctantly And Hesitatingly, 
   As If Kindly Feelings Within Took The Young Man'S Part; But They Said 
   It, Nevertheless. 
     
     
     
   For The Patient Resolution With Which He Continued to Apply To All Kinds 
   Of People And Places, Hour After Hour, In spite Of Such Disheartening 
   Treatment, He Deserved much Praise; But He Did Not Receive Any; And At 
   Last, Weary And Despondent, He Returned to His Miserable Lodgings. He 
   Was So Desperately Depressed in body And Mind That The Contents Of The 
   Black Bottle Seemed his Only Resource. 
     
     
     
   Such A Small Sum Now Remained that He Felt That Something Must Be Done 
   Instantly. He Concluded that His Only Course Now Was To Go Out And Pick 
   Up Any Odd Bits Of Work That He Could Find. He Hoped that By Working 
   Half The Time He Might Make Enough To Pay For His Board At His Present 
   Cheap Lodging-Place. This Would Leave Him Time To Continue His Writing, 
   And In the Course Of A Week More He Would Certainly Hear From The 
   Manuscripts Already Forwarded. On These He Now Built Nearly All His 
   Hope. If They Were Well Received and Paid For, He Considered his 
   Fortunes Substantially Restored, And Fame Almost A Certainty In the 
   Future. If He Could Only Produce A Few More Manuscripts, And Bridge Over 
   The Intervening Time Until He Could Hear From Them, He Felt That His 
   Chief Difficulties Would Be Past. 
     
     
     
   Having Decided to Do A Laborer'S Work, He At Once Resolved to Exchange 
   His Elegant Broadcloth For A Laborer'S Suit, And He Managed this 
   Transfer So Shrewdly That He Obtained quite A Little Sum Of Money In 
   Addition. 
     
     
     
   It Was Well That He Did Replenish His Finances Somewhat, For His 
   Apparently Phlegmatic Landlord Was As Wary As A Veteran Mouser In 
   Looking after His Small Interests. He Had Just Obtained an Inkling as To 
   Haldane'S Identity, And, While He Was Not At All Chary Concerning The 
   Social And Moral Standing Of His Few Uncertain Lodgers, He Proposed 
   Henceforth That All Transactions With The Suspicious Stranger Should Be 
   On A Strictly Cash Basis. 
     
     
     
   It Was The Busy Spring-Time, And Labor Was In great Demand. Haldane 
   Wandered off To The Suburbs, And, As An Ordinary Laborer, Offered his 
   Services In cleaning Up Yards, Cutting Wood, Or Forking Over A Space Of 
   Garden Ground. His Stalwart Form And Prepossessing appearance Generally 
   Secured him A Favorable Answer, But Before He Was Through With His Task 
   He Often Received a Sound Scolding For His Unskilful And Bungling Style 
   Of Work. But He In part Made Up By Main Strength What He Lacked in 
   Skill, And After Two Or Three Days He Acquired considerable Deftness In 
   His Unwonted labors, And Felt The Better For Them. They Counteracted the 
   Effects Of His Literary Efforts, Or, More Correctly, His Means Of 
   Inspiration In them. 
     
     
     
   Thus Another Week Passed, Of Which He Gave Three Days To The Production 
   Of Two Or Three More Brief Manuscripts, And During The Following Week He 
   Felt Sure That He Would Hear From Those First Sent. 
     
     
     
   He Wrote Throughout The Hours Of Daylight On Sunday, Scarcely Leaving 
   His Chair, And Drank More Deeply Than Usual. In consequence, He Felt 
   Wretchedly On Monday, And, Therefore, Strolled off To Look For Some 
   Employment That Would Not Tax His Aching Head. Hitherto He Had Avoided 
   All Localities Where He Would Be Apt To Meet Those Who Knew Him; And By 
   Reason Of His Brief Residence In town There Were Comparatively Few Who 
   Were Familiar With His Features. He Now Recalled the Fact That He Had 
   Often Seen From His Window, While An Inmate Of Mrs. Arnot'S Home, Quite 
   A Collection Of Cottages Across A Small Ravine That Ran A Little Back Of 
   That Lady'S Residence. He Might Find Some Work Among Them, And He 
   Yielded to The Impulse To Look Again Upon The Place Where Such Rich And 
   Abundant Happiness Had Once Seemed within His Grasp. 
     
     
     
   For Several Days He Had Been Conscious Of A Growing Desire To Hear From 
   His Mother And Mrs. Arnot, And Often Found Himself Wondering How They 
   Regarded his Mysterious Disappearance, Or Whether Reports Of His Vain 
   Inquiry For Work Had Reached them. 
     
     
     
   With A Pride And Resolution That Grew Obstinate With Time And Failure, 
   He Resolved that He Would Not Communicate With Them Until He Had 
   Something Favorable To Tell; And He Hoped, And Almost Believed, That 
   Before Many Days Passed, He Could Address To Them A Literary Weekly 
   Paper In which They Would Find, In prominent Position, The Underscored 
   Initials Of E. H. Until He Could Be Preceded by The First Flashes Of 
   Fame He Would Remain In obscurity. He Would Not Even Let Mrs. Arnot Know 
   Where He Was Hiding, So That She Might Send To Him His Personal Effects 
   Left At Her House. Indeed, He Had No Place For Them Now, And Was, 
   Besides, More Morbidly Bent Than Ever On Making Good The Proud Words He 
   Had Spoken. If, In the Face Of Such Tremendous Odds He Could, Alone And 
   Unaided, With Nothing But His Hands And Brain, Win Again All And More 
   Than He Had Lost, He Could Compel The Respect And Admiration Of Those 
   Who Had Witnessed his Downfall And Consequent Victorious Struggle. 
     
     
     
   Was The Girl Who Had Inspired his Sudden, And, As He Had Supposed, 
   "Undying" Passion, Forgotten During These Trying Days? Yes, To A Great 
   Extent. His Self-Love Was Greater Than His Love For Laura Romeyn. He 
   Craved intensely To Prove That He Was No Longer A Proper Object Of Her 
   Scorn. She Had Rejected him As A Slave To "Disgusting Vices," And Such 
   He Had Apparently Shown Himself To Be; But Now He Would Have Been 
   Willing To Have Dipped his Pen In his Own Blood, And Have Written Away 
   His Life, If Thereby He Could Have Filled her With Admiration And 
   Regret. Although He Scarcely Acknowledged it To Himself, Perhaps The 
   Subtlest And Strongest Impulse To His Present Course Was The Hope Of 
   Teaching Her That He Was Not What She Now Regarded him. But He Was Not 
   At That Time Capable Of A Strong, True Affection For Any One, And 
   Thoughts Of The Pretty Maiden Wounded his Pride More Than His Heart. 
     
     
     
   After Arriving at The Further Bank Of The Ravine, Back Of Mrs. Arnot'S 
   Residence, He Sat Down For A While, And Gave Himself Up To A Very Bitter 
   Revery. There, In the Bright Spring Sunshine, Was The Beautiful Villa 
   Which Might Have Been A Second Home To Him. The Gardener Was At Work 
   Among The Shrubbery, And The Sweet Breath Of Crocuses And Hyacinths Was 
   Floated to Him On The Morning Breeze. There Were The Windows Of His 
   Airy, Lovely Room, In comparison With Which The Place In which He Now 
   Slept Was A Kennel. If He Had Controlled and Hidden His Passion, If He 
   Had Waited and Wooed patiently, Skilfully, Winning First Esteem And 
   Friendship, And Then Affection, Yonder Garden Paths Might Have Witnessed 
   Many Happy Hours Spent With The One Whom He Loved as Well As He Could 
   Love Any One Save Himself. But Now--And He Cursed himself And His Folly. 
     
     
     
   Poor Fellow! He Might As Well Have Said, "If I Had Not Been Myself, All 
   This Might Have Been As I Have Imagined." He Had Acted naturally, And In 
   Accordance With His Defective Character; He Had Been Himself, And That 
   Was The Secret Of All His Troubles. He Sprang Up, Exclaiming In anger: 
     
     
     
   "Mother Made A Weak Fool Of Me, And I Was Willing To Be A Fool. Now We 
   Are Bothing Reaping Our Reward." 
     
     
     
   He Went Off Among The Cottages Looking For Employment, But Found Little 
   Encouragement. The People Were, As A General Thing, In humble 
   Circumstances, And Did Their Work Among Themselves. But At Last He 
   Found, Near The Ravine, A Small Dwelling Standing Quite Apart From Any 
   Others, Before Which A Load Of Wood Had Been Thrown. The Poor Woman 
   Whose Gateway It Obstructed was Anxious To Have It Sawed up And Carried 
   To Her Little Wood-Shed, But Was Disposed to Haggle About The Price. 
     
     
     
   "Give Me What You Please," Said Haldane, Throwing Off His Coat; "I Take 
   The Job;" And In a Few Moments The Youth Who Had Meditated indefinite 
   Heights Of "Gloomy Grandeur" Appeared--Save To The Initiated--As If He 
   Had Been Born A Wood-Sawyer. 
     
     
     
   He Was Driving His Saw In the Usual Strong, Dogged manner In which He 
   Performed such Tasks, When A Light Step Caused him To Look Up Suddenly, 
   And He Found Himself Almost Face To Face With Laura Romeyn. He Started 
   Violently; The Blood First Receded from His Face, And Then Rushed 
   Tumultuously Back. She, Too, Seemed much Surprised and Startled, And 
   Stopped hesitatingly, As If She Did Not Know What To Do. But Haldane Had 
   No Doubt As To His Course. He Felt That He Had No Right To Speak To Her, 
   And That She Might Regard It As An Insult If He Did; Therefore He Bent 
   Down To His Work Again With A Certain Proud Humility Which Laura, Even 
   In Her Perturbation, Did Not Fail To Notice. 
     
     
     
   In Her Diffidence And Confusion She Continued past Him A Few Steps, And, 
   Although He Expected nothing Less, The Fact That She Did Not Recognize 
   Or Speak To Him Cut To His Heart With A Deeper Pain Than He Had Yet 
   Suffered. With A Gesture Similar To That Which He Made When She Saw Him 
   On The Way To Prison, He Dashed his Hat Down Over His Eyes, And Drove 
   His Saw Through The Wood With Savage Energy. 
     
     
     
   She Looked at Him Doubtfully For A Moment, Then Yielding To Her Impulse, 
   Came To His Side. His First Intimation Of Her Presence Was The Scarcely 
   Heard Tones Of Her Voice Mingling With The Harsh Rasping Of The Saw. 
     
     
     
   "Will You Not Speak To Me, Mr. Haldane?" She Asked. 
     
     
     
   He Dropped his Saw, Stood Erect, Trembled slightly, But Did Not Answer 
   Or Even Raise His Eyes To Her Face. His Pain Was So Great He Was Not 
   Sure Of His Self-Control. 
     
     
     
   "Perhaps," She Added timidly, "You Do Not Wish Me To Speak To You." 
     
     
     
   "I Now Have No Right To Speak To You, Miss Romeyn," He Answered in a 
   Tone Which His Suppressed feelings Rendered constrained and Almost 
   Harsh. 
     
     
     
   "But I Feel Sorry For You," Said She Quickly, "And So Does My Aunt, And 
   She Greatly--" 
     
     
     
   "I Have Not Asked for Your Pity," Interrupted haldane, Growing More 
   Erect And Almost Haughty In his Bearing, Quite Oblivious For A Moment Of 
   His Shirt-Sleeves And Bucksaw. What Is More, He Made Laura Forget Them 
   Also, And His Manner Embarrassed her Greatly. She Was Naturally Gentle 
   And Timid, And She Deferred so Far To His Mood That One Would Have 
   Thought That She Was Seeking To Obtain Kindness Rather Than To Confer 
   It. 
     
     
     
   "You Misunderstand Me," Said She: "I Do Respect You For The Brave Effort 
   You Are Making. I Respect You For Doing This Work. You Cannot Think It 
   Strange, Though, That I Am Sorry For All That Has Happened. But I Did 
   Not Intend To Speak Of Myself At All--Of Mrs. Arnot Rather, And Your 
   Mother. They Do Not Know Where To Find You, And Wish To See And Hear 
   From You Very Much. Mrs. Arnot Has Letters To You From Your Mother." 
     
     
     
   "The Time Shall Come--It May Not Be So Very Far Distant, Miss 
   Romeyn--When It Will Be No Condescension On Your Part To Speak To Me," 
   Said Haldane Loftily, Ignoring all That Related to Mrs. Arnot And His 
   Mother, Even If He Heard It. 
     
     
     
   "I Do Not Feel It To Be Condescension Now," Replied laura, With Almost 
   The Frank Simplicity Of A Child. "I Cannot Help Feeling Sympathy For 
   You, Even Though You Are Too Proud To Receive It." Then She Added, With 
   A Trace Of Dignity And Maidenly Pride, "Perhaps When You Have Realized 
   Your Hopes, And Have Become Rich Or Famous, I May Not Choose To Speak To 
   You. But It Is Not My Nature To Turn From Any One In misfortune, Much 
   Less Any One Whom I Have Known Well." 
     
     
     
   He Looked at Her Steadily For A Moment, And His Lip Quivered slightly 
   With His Softening Feeling. 
     
     
     
   "You Do Not Scorn Me, Then, Like The Rest Of The World," Said He In a 
   Low Tone. 
     
     
     
   Tears Stood In the Young Girl'S Eyes As She Answered, "Mr. Haldane, I Do 
   Feel Deeply For You; I Know You Have Done Very Wrong, But That Only 
   Makes You Suffer More." 
     
     
     
   "How Can You Overlook The Wrong Of My Action? Others Think I Am Not Fit 
   To Be Spoken To," He Asked, In a Still Lower Tone. 
     
     
     
   "I Do Not Overlook The Wrong," Said She, Gravely; "It Seems Strange And 
   Terrible To Me; And Yet I Do Feel Sorry For You, From The Depths Of My 
   Heart, And I Wish I Could Help You." 
     
     
     
   "You Have Helped me," Said He, Impetuously; "You Have Spoken The First 
   Truly Kind Word That Has Blessed me Since I Bade Mother Good-By. I Was 
   Beginning To Hate The Hard-Hearted animals Known As Men And Women. They 
   Trample Me Down Like A Herd Of Buffaloes." 
     
     
     
   "Won'T You Go With Me And See Mrs. Arnot? She Has Letters For You, And 
   She Greatly Wishes To See You." 
     
     
     
   He Shook His Head. 
     
     
     
   "Why Not?" 
     
     
     
   "I Have The Same As Made A Vow That I Will Never Approach Any One To 
   Whom I Held My Old Relations Until I Regain At Least As Good A Name And 
   Position As I Lost. I Little Thought We Should Meet Soon Again, If Ever, 
   And Still Less That You Would Speak To Me As You Have Done." 
     
     
     
   "I Had Been Taking Some Delicacies From Auntie To A Poor Sick Woman, And 
   Was Just Returning," Said Laura, Blushing Slightly. "I Think Your Vow Is 
   Very Wrong. Your Pride Brings Grief To Your Mother, And Pain To Your 
   Good Friend, Mrs. Arnot." 
     
     
     
   "I Cannot Help It," Said He, In a Manner That Was Gloomy And Almost 
   Sullen; "I Got Myself Into This Slough, And I Intend To Get Myself Out 
   Of It. I Shall Not Take Alms From Any One." 
     
     
     
   "A Mother Cannot Give Her Son Alms," Said Laura Simply. 
     
     
     
   "The First Words My Mother Said To Me When My Heart Was Breaking Were, 
   'You Have Disgraced me.' When I Have Accomplished that Which Will Honor 
   Her I Will Return." 
     
     
     
   "I Know From What Auntie Said That Your Mother Did Not Mean Any 
   Unkindness, And You Surely Know That You Have A Friend In mrs. Arnot." 
     
     
     
   "Mrs. Arnot _Has_ Been A True Friend, And No Small Part Of My Punishment 
   Is The Thought Of How I Have Requited her Kindness. I Reverence And 
   Honor Her More Than Any Other Woman, And I Did Not Know That You Were So 
   Much Like Her. You Both Seem Different From All The Rest Of The World. 
   But I Shall Take No Advantage Of Her Kindness Or Yours." 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Haldane," Said Laura Gravely, But With Rising Color, "I Am Not A 
   Woman. In years And Feelings I Am Scarcely More Than A Child. It May Not 
   Be Proper Or Conventional For Me To Stop And Talk So Long To You, But I 
   Have Acted from The Natural Impulse Of A Young Girl Brought Up In a 
   Secluded country Home. I Shall Return Thither Tomorrow, And I Am Glad I 
   Have Seen You Once More, For I Wished you To Know That I Did Feel Sorry 
   For You, And That I Hoped you Might Succeed. I Greatly Wish You Would 
   See Mrs. Arnot, Or Let Me Tell Her Where She Can See You, And Send To 
   You What She Wishes. She Has Heard Of You Once Or Twice, But Does Not 
   Know Where To Find You. Will You Not Let Me Tell Her?" 
     
     
     
   He Shook His Head Decidedly. 
     
     
     
   "Well, Then, Good-By," Said She Kindly, And Was About To Depart. 
     
     
     
   "Wait," He Said Hastily; "Will You Do Me One Small Favor?" 
     
     
     
   "Yes, If I Ought." 
     
     
     
   "This Is My Father'S Watch And Chain," He Continued, Taking Them Off. 
   "They Are Not Safe With Me In my Present Life. I Do Not Wish To Have It 
   In My Power To Take Them To A Pawnshop. I Would Rather Starve First, And 
   Yet I Would Rather Not Be Tempted. I Can'T Explain. You Cannot And 
   Should Not Know Anything about The World In which I Am Living. Please 
   Give These To Mrs. Arnot, And Ask Her To Keep Them Till I Come For Them; 
   Or She Can Send Them, With The Rest Of My Effects, To My Mother. I Have 
   Detained you Too Long Already. Whatever May Be My Fate, I Shall Always 
   Remember You With The Deepest Gratitude And Respect." 
     
     
     
   There Was Distress In laura'S Face As He Spoke; But She Took The Watch 
   And Chain Without A Word, For She Saw That He Was Fully Resolved upon 
   His Course. 
     
     
     
   "I Know That Mrs. Arnot Will Respect My Wish To Remain In obscurity 
   Until I Can Come With A Character Differing From That Which I Now Bear. 
   Your Life Would Be A Very Happy One, Miss Romeyn, If My Wishes Could 
   Make It So;" And The Wood-Sawyer Bowed his Farewell With The Grace And 
   Dignity Of A Gentleman, In spite Of His Coarse Laborer'S Garb. He Then 
   Resumed his Work, To The Great Relief Of The Woman, Who Had Caught 
   Glimpses Of The Interview From Her Window, Wondering and Surmising Why 
   The "Young Leddy From The Big House" Should Have So Much To Say To A 
   Wood-Sawyer. 
     
     
     
   "If She Had A-Given Him A Tract Upon Leavin', It Would A-Seemed more 
   Nateral Like," She Explained to A Crony The Latter Part Of The Day. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Did Respect Haldane'S Desire To Be Left To Himself Until He 
   Came In the Manner That His Pride Dictated; But, After Hearing Laura'S 
   Story, She Cast Many A Wistful Glance Toward The One Who, In spite Of 
   His Grave Faults And Weaknesses, Deeply Interested her, And She Sighed: 
     
     
     
   "He Must Learn By Hard Experience." 
     
     
     
   "Did I Do Wrong In speaking To Him, Auntie?" Laura Asked. 
     
     
     
   "I Do Not Think So. Your Motive Was Natural And Kindly; And Yet I Would 
   Not Like You To Meet Him Again Until He Is Wholly Different In 
   Character, If That Time Ever Comes." 
   
   
   
   Chapter XXI (Magnanimous Mr. Shrumpf) 
   After The Excitement Caused by His Unexpected interview With Laura 
   Subsided, And Haldane Was Able To Think It Over Quietly, It Seemed to 
   Him That He Had Burned his Ships Behind Him. He Must Now Make Good His 
   Proud Words, For To Go "Crawling Back" After What He Had Said To-Day, 
   And, Of All Persons, To The One Whose Opinion He Most Valued--This Would 
   Be A Humiliation The Thought Of Which Even He Could Not Endure. 
     
     
     
   Having Finished his Task, He Scarcely Glanced at The Pittance Which The 
   Woman Reluctantly Gave Him, And Went Straight To The City Post-Office. 
   He Was So Agitated with Conflicting Hopes And Fears That His Voice 
   Trembled as He Asked if There Were Any Letters Addressed to E. H., And 
   He Was So Deeply Disappointed that He Was Scarcely Willing To Take The 
   Careless Negative Given. He Even Went To The Express Office, In the 
   Vague Hope That The Wary Editors Had Remitted through Them; And The 
   Leaden Weight Of Despondency Grew Heavier At Each Brisk Statement: 
     
     
     
   "Nothing For E. H." 
     
     
     
   He Was So Weary And Low-Spirited when He Reached his Dismal Lodgings 
   That He Felt No Disposition Either To Eat Or Drink, But Sat Down In the 
   Back Part Of The Wretched, Musty Saloon, And, Drawing His Hat Over His 
   Eyes, He Gave Himself Up To Bitter Thoughts. With Mental Imprecations He 
   Cursed himself That He Had Not Better Understood The Young Girl Who Once 
   Had Been His Companion. Never Before Had She Seemed so Beautiful As 
   To-Day, And She Had Revealed a Forming Character As Lovely As Her 
   Person. She _Was_ Like Mrs. Arnot--The Woman Who Seemed to Him 
   Perfect--And What More Could He Say In her Praise? And Yet His Folly Had 
   Placed between Them An Impassable Gulf. He Was Not Misled by Her 
   Kindness, For He Remembered her Words, And Now Believed them, "If I Ever 
   Love A Man He Will Be One That I Can Look Up To And Respect." If He 
   Could Only Have Recognized her Noble Tendencies He Might Have Resolutely 
   Set About Becoming Such A Man. If His Character Had Been Pleasing To 
   Her, His Social Position Would Have Given Him The Right To Have Aspired 
   To Her Hand. Why Had He Not Had Sufficient Sense To Have Realized that 
   She Was Young--Much Too Young To Understand His Rash, Hasty Passion? Why 
   Could He Not Have Learned from Her Pure, Delicate Face That She Might 
   Possibly Be Won By Patient And Manly Devotion, But Would Be Forever 
   Repelled from The Man Who Wooed her Like A Turk? 
     
     
     
   In The Light Of Experience He Saw His Mistakes. From His Present Depth 
   He Looked up, And Saw The Inestimable Vantage Ground Which He Once 
   Possessed. In his Deep Despondency He Feared he Never Would Regain It, 
   And That His Hopes Of Literary Success Would Prove Delusive. 
     
     
     
   Regret Like A Cold, November Wind, Swept Through All His Thoughts And 
   Memories, And There Seemed nothing Before Him But A Chill Winter Of 
   Blight And Failure That Would Have No Spring. 
     
     
     
   But He Was Not Left To Indulge His Miserable Mood Very Long, For His 
   Mousing Landlord--Having Finally Learned who Haldane Was, And All The 
   Unfavorable Facts And Comments With Which The Press Had Abounded--Now 
   Concluded that He Could Pounce Upon Him In such A Way That Something 
   Would Be Left In his Claws Before The Victim Could Escape. 
     
     
     
   That Very Morning Haldane Had Paid For His Board To Date, But Had 
   Thoughtlessly Neglected to Have A Witness Or Take A Receipt. The 
   Grizzled grimalkin Who Kept The Den, And Thrived as Much By His Small 
   Filchings As From His Small Profits, Had Purred to Himself, "Very Goot, 
   Very Goot," On Learning That Haldane'S Word Would Not Be Worth Much With 
   The Public Or In court; And No Yellow-Eyed cat Ever Waited and Watched 
   For His Prey With A Quieter And Cooler Deliberation Than Did Weitzel 
   Shrumpf, The Host Of The Dingy Little Hotel. 
     
     
     
   After Haldane Appeared he Delayed until A Few Cronies Whom He Could 
   Depend Upon Had Dropped in, And Then, In an Off-Hand Way, Stepped up To 
   The Despondent Youth, And Said: 
     
     
     
   "I Zay, Mister, You Been Here Zwei Week; I Want You Bay Me Now." 
     
     
     
   "What Do You Mean?" Asked haldane, Looking Up With An Uncomprehending 
   Stare. 
     
     
     
   "Dis Is Vot I Mean; You Buts Me Off Long Nuff. I Vants Zwei Weeks' 
   Bort." 
     
     
     
   "I Paid You For Everything Up To This Morning, And I Have Had Nothing 
   Since." 
     
     
     
   "O, You Have Baid Me--Strange I Did Not Know. Vill You Bays Now Ven I 
   Does Know?" 
     
     
     
   "I Tell You I Have Paid You!" Said Haldane, Starting Up. 
     
     
     
   "Vel, Vell, Show Me Der Receipt, An I Says Not Von Vort Against Him." 
     
     
     
   "You Did Not Give Me A Receipt." 
     
     
     
   "No, I Thinks Not--Not My Vay To Give Him Till I Gits De Moneys." 
     
     
     
   "You Are An Unmitigated scoundrel. I Won'T Pay You Another Cent." 
     
     
     
   "Lock Dat Door, Carl," Said The Landlord, Coolly, To One Of His 
   Satellites. "Now, Mister Haldane, You Bays, Or You Goes To Jail. You Has 
   Been Dare Vonce, And I'Ll But You Dare Dis Night If You No Bays Me." 
     
     
     
   "Gentlemen, I Appeal To You To Prevent This Downright Villany," Cried 
   Haldane. 
     
     
     
   "I Sees No Villany," Said One Of The Lookers-On, Stolidly. "You Shows 
   Your Receipt, And He No Touch You." 
     
     
     
   "I Neglected to Take A Receipt. I Did Not Know I Was Dealing With A 
   Thief." 
     
     
     
   "Ho, Ho, Ho!" Laughed the Landlord; "He Tinks I Vas Honest Like Himself, 
   Who Vas Jus' Out Of Jail!" 
     
     
     
   "I Won'T Pay You Twice," Said Haldane Doggedly. 
     
     
     
   "Carl, Call De Policeman, Den." 
     
     
     
   "Wait A Moment; Your Rascality Will Do You No Good, And May Get You Into 
   Trouble. I Have Very Little Money Left." 
     
     
     
   "Den You Can Leave Your Vatch Till You Brings De Money." 
     
     
     
   "Ah, Thank Heaven! That Is Safe, And Beyond Your Clutches." 
     
     
     
   "In A Pawnshop? Or Vas He Stolen, Like De Tousand Dollar, And You Been 
   Made Give Him Up?" 
     
     
     
   Haldane Had Now Recovered himself Sufficiently To Realize That He Was In 
   An Ugly Predicament. He Was Not Sufficiently Familiar With The Law To 
   Know How Much Power His Persecutor Had, But Feared, With Good Reason, 
   That Some Kind Of A Charge Could Be Trumped up Which Would Lead To His 
   Being Locked up For The Night. Then Would Follow Inevitably Another 
   Series Of Paragraphs In the Papers, Deepening The Dark Hues In which 
   They Had Already Portrayed his Character. He Could Not Endure The 
   Thought That The Last Knowledge Of Him That Laura Carried away With Her 
   From Hillaton Should Be That He Was Again In jail, Charged with Trying 
   To Steal His Board And Lodging From A Poor And Ignorant Foreigner; For 
   He Foresaw That The Astute Shrumpf, His German Landlord, Would Appear In 
   The Police Court In the Character Of An Injured innocent. He Pictured 
   The Disgust Upon Her Face As She Saw His Name In the Vile Connection 
   Which This New Arraignment Would Occasion, And He Felt That He Must 
   Escape It If Possible. Although Enraged at Shrumpf'S False Charge, He 
   Was Cool Enough To Remember That He Had Nothing To Oppose To It Save His 
   Own Unsupported word; And What Was That Worth In hillaton? The Public 
   Would Even Be Inclined to Believe The Opposite Of What He Affirmed. 
   Therefore, By A Great Effort, He Regained his Self-Control, And Said 
   Firmly And Quietly: 
     
     
     
   "Shrumpf, Although You Know I Have Paid You, I Am Yet In a Certain Sense 
   Within Your Power, Since I Did Not Take Your Receipt. I Have Not Much 
   Money Left, But After I Have Taken Out Fifty Cents For My Supper And Bed 
   You Can Take All The Rest. My Watch Is In the Hands Of A Friend, And You 
   Can'T Get That, And You Can'T Get Any More Than I Have By Procuring My 
   Arrest; So Take Your Choice. I Don'T Want To Have Trouble With You, But 
   I Won'T Go Out Penniless And Spend The Night In the Street, And If You 
   Send For A Policeman I Will Make You All The Trouble I Can, And I 
   Promise You It Will Not Be A Little." 
     
     
     
   Herr Shrumpf, Conscious That He Was On Rather Delicate Ground, And 
   Remembering That He Was Already In bad Odor With The Police Authorities, 
   Assumed a Great Show Of Generosity. 
     
     
     
   "I Vill Not Be Tough," He Said, "Ven A Man'S Boor And Does All Vat He 
   Can; I Knows My Rights, And I Stands Up For Him, But Ven I Gits Him Den 
   I Be Like Von Leetle Lamb. I Vill Leave You Tree Quarter Dollar, And You 
   Bays Der Rest Vat You Have, And We Says Nothing More 'Bout Him." 
     
     
     
   "You Are Right--The Least Said The Better About This Transaction. I'Ve 
   Been A Fool, And You Are A Knave, And That Is All There Is To Say. Here 
   Are Seventy-Five Cents, Which I Keep, And There Are Four Dollars, Which 
   Is All I Have--Every Cent. Now Unlock Your Door And Let Me Out." 
     
     
     
   "I Tinks You Has More." 
     
     
     
   "You Can Search My Pockets If You Wish. If You Do, I Call Upon These Men 
   Present To Witness The Act, For, As I Have Said, If You Go Beyond A 
   Certain Point I Will Make You Trouble, And Justly, Too." 
     
     
     
   "Nah, Nah! Vat For I Do So Mean A Ting? You But Your Hand In my Bocket 
   Ven You Takes My Dinners, My Lagers, And My Brandies, But I No Do Vat No 
   Shentlemens Does. You Can Go, And Ven You Brings De Full Moneys For Zwei 
   Weeks' Bort I Gives You Receipt For Him." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Vouchsafed no Reply, But Hastened away, As A Fly Would Escape 
   From A Spider'S Web. The Episode, Intensely Disagreeable As It Was, Had 
   The Good Effect Of Arousing Him Out Of The Paralysis Of His Deep 
   Despondency. Besides, He Could Not Help Congratulating Himself That He 
   Had Avoided another Arrest And All The Wretched experience Which Must 
   Have Followed. 
     
     
     
   He Concluded that There Was No Other Resource For Him That Night Save 
   "No. 13," The Lodging-House In the Side Street Where "No Questions Were 
   Asked"; And, Having Stolen Into Another Obscure Restaurant, He Obtained 
   Such A Supper As Could Be Had For Twenty-Five Cents. He Then Sought His 
   Former Miserable Refuge, And, As He Could Not Pay Extra For A Private 
   Room On This Occasion--For He Must Keep A Little Money For His 
   Breakfast--There Was Nothing For Him, Therefore, But To Obtain What Rest 
   He Could In a Large, Stifling Room, Half Filled with Miserable Waifs 
   Like Himself. He Managed to Get A Bed near A Window, Which He Raised 
   Slightly, And Fatigue Soon Brought Oblivion. 
     
   
   
   
   Chapter XXII (A Man Who Hated himself) 
   The Light Of The Following Day Brought Little Hope Or Courage; But 
   Haldane Started out, After A Meagre Breakfast, To Find Some Means Of 
   Obtaining a Dinner And A Place To Sleep. He Was Not As Successful As 
   Usual, And Noon Had Passed before He Found Anything To Do. 
     
     
     
   As He Was Plodding Wearily Along Through A Suburb He Heard Some One 
   Behind A High Board Fence Speaking So Loudly And Angrily That He Stopped 
   To Listen, And Was Not A Little Surprised to Find That The Man Was 
   Talking To Himself. For A Few Moments There Was A Sound Of A Saw, And 
   When It Ceased, A Harsh, Querulous Voice Commenced again: 
     
     
     
   "A-A-H"--It Would Seem That The Man Thus Given To Soliloquy Often Began 
   And Finished his Sentences With A Vindictive And Prolonged guttural 
   Sound Like That Here Indicated--"Miserable Hand At Sawin' Wood! Why 
   Don'T You Let Some One Saw It That Knows How? Tryin' To Save A Half 
   Dollar; When You Know It'Ll Give You The Rheumatiz, And Cost Ten In 
   Doctor Bills! 'Nother Thing; It'S Mean--Mean As Dirt. You Know There'S 
   Poor Devils Who Need the Work, And You'Re Cheatin' 'Em Out Of It. But 
   It'S Just Like Yer! A-A-H!" And Then The Saw Began Again. 
     
     
     
   Haldane Was Inclined to Believe That This Irascible Stranger Was As 
   Providential As The Croaking Ravens That Fed the Prophet, And He 
   Promptly Sought The Gate And Entered. An Old Man Looked up In some 
   Surprise. He Was Short In stature And Had The Stoop Of One Who Is 
   Bending Under The Weight Of Years And Infirmities. His Features Were As 
   Withered and Brown As A Russet Apple That Had Been Kept Long Past Its 
   Season, And His Head Was Surmounted by A Shock Of White Locks That 
   Bristled out In all Directions, As If Each Particular Hair Was On Bad 
   Terms With Its Neighbors. Curious Seams And Wrinkles Gave The Continuous 
   Impression That The Old Gentleman Had Just Swallowed something Very 
   Bitter, And Was Making a Wry Face Over It. But Haldane Was In no Mood 
   For The Study Of Physiognomy And Character, However Interesting a 
   Subject He Might Stumble Upon, And He Said: 
     
     
     
   "I Am Looking For A Little Work, And With Your Permission I Will Saw 
   That Wood For Whatever You Are Willing To Pay." 
     
     
     
   "That Won'T Be Much." 
     
     
     
   "It Will Be Enough To Get A Hungry Man A Dinner." 
     
     
     
   "Haven'T You Had Any Dinner?" 
     
     
     
   "No." 
     
     
     
   "Why Didn'T You Ask For One, Then?" 
     
     
     
   "Why Should I Ask You For A Dinner?" 
     
     
     
   "Why Shouldn'T You? If I Be A Tight-Fisted man, I'M Not Mean Enough To 
   Refuse A Hungry Man." 
     
     
     
   "Give Me Some Work, And I Can Buy My Dinner." 
     
     
     
   "What'S Your Name?" 
     
     
     
   "Egbert Haldane." 
     
     
     
   "Ah Ha! That Name'S Been In the Papers Lately." 
     
     
     
   "Yes, And _I_ Have Been In jail." 
     
     
     
   "And Do You Expect Me To Have A Man Around That'S Been In jail?" 
     
     
     
   "No; I Don'T Expect Any Humanity From Any Human Being That Knows 
   Anything about Me. I Am Treated as If I Were The Devil Himself, And 
   Hadn'T The Power Or Wish To Do Anything Save Rob And Murder. The Public 
   Should Keep Such As I Am In prison The Rest Of Our Lives, Or Else Cut 
   Our Throats. But This Sending Us Out In the World To Starve, And To Be 
   Kicked and Cuffed during The Process, Is Scarcely In keeping With The 
   Bible Civilization They Are Always Boasting Of." 
     
     
     
   He Spoke Recklessly And Bitterly, And His Experience Made His Words 
   Appear To Him Only Too True. But His Shrivelled and Shrunken Auditor 
   Grinned appreciatively, And Said, With More Than His Usual Vindictive 
   Emphasis: 
     
     
     
   "A-A-H! That'S The Right Kind Of Talk. Now You'Re Gittin' Past All This 
   Make-Believin' To The Truth. We'Re A Cussed mean Set--We Folk Who Go To 
   Church And Read The Bible, And Then Do Just What The Devil Tells Us, 
   A-Helpin Him Along All The Time. Satan'S Got A Strong Grip On You, From 
   All I Hear, And We'Re All A-Helpin' Him Keep It. You'Ve Gone Half Way To 
   The Devil, And All The Good People Tell You To Go The Rest Of The Way, 
   For They Won'T Have Anything To Do With You. Hain'T That The Way?" 
     
     
     
   "Oh, No," Said Haldane With A Bitter Sneer; "Some Of The Good People To 
   Whom You Refer Put Themselves Out So Far As To Give Me A Little Advice." 
     
     
     
   "What Was It Wuth To You? Which Would You Ruther--Some Good Advice From 
   Me, Or The Job Of Sawin' The Wood There?" 
     
     
     
   "Give Me The Saw--No Matter About The Advice," Said Haldane, Throwing 
   Off His Coat. 
     
     
     
   "A-A-H! Wasn'T I A Fool To Ask That Question? Well, I Don'T Belong To 
   The Good People, So Go Ahead--I Don'T S'Pose You Know Much About Sawin' 
   Wood, Bro'T Up As You'Ve Been; But You Can'T Do It Wuss Than Me. I Don'T 
   Belong To Any One. What I Was Made For I Can'T See, Unless It Is To Be A 
   Torment To Myself. Nobody Can Stand Me. I Can'T Stand Myself. I'Ve Got A 
   Cat And Dog That Will Stay With Me, And Sometimes I'Ll Git Up And Kick 
   'Em Jest For The Chance Of Cussin' Myself For Doin' It." 
     
     
     
   "And Yet You Are The First Man In town That Has Shown Me Any Practical 
   Kindness," Said Haldane, Placing another Stick On His Saw-Buck. 
     
     
     
   "Well, I Kinder Do It Out O' Spite To Myself. There'S Somethin' Inside 
   Of Me Sayin' All The Time, 'Why Are You Spendin' Time And Money On This 
   Young Scapegrace? It'Ll End In your Havin' To Give Him A Dinner, For You 
   Can'T Be So Blasted mean As To Let Him Go Without It, And Yet All The 
   Time You'Re Wishin' That You Needn'T Do It.'" 
     
     
     
   "Well, You Need not," Said Haldane. 
     
     
     
   "Yes, I Must, Too." 
     
     
     
   "All I Ask Of You Is What You Think That Work Is Worth." 
     
     
     
   "Well, That Ain'T All I Ask Of My Confounded old Self. Here, You'Re 
   Hungry You Say--S'Pose You Tell The Truth Sometimes; Here You'Re Down, 
   And All The Respectable People Sittin' Down Hard On You; Here You Are In 
   The Devil'S Clutches, And He'S Got You Half Way Toward The Brimstone, 
   And I'M Grudgin' You A Dinner, Even When I Know I'Ve Got To Give It To 
   You. That'S What I Call Bein' Mean And A Fool Both. A-A-H!" 
     
     
     
   Haldane Stopped a Moment To Indulge In the First Laugh He Had Enjoyed 
   Since His Arrest. 
     
     
     
   "I Hope You Will Pardon Me, My Venerable Friend," Said He; "But You Have 
   A Rather Strangely Honest Way Of Talking." 
     
     
     
   "I'M Old, But I Ain'T Venerable. My Name Is Jeremiah Growther," Was The 
   Snarling Reply. 
     
     
     
   "I'M Fraid You Have Too Much Conscience, Mr. Growther. It Won'T Let You 
   Do Comfortably What Others Do As A Matter Of Course." 
     
     
     
   "I'Ve Nothin' To Do With Other People. I Know What'S Right, And I'M All 
   The Time Hatin' To Do It. That'S The Mean Thing about Me Which I Can'T 
   Stand. A-A-H!" 
     
     
     
   "I'M Sorry My Coming Has Made You So Out Of Sorts With Yourself." 
     
     
     
   "If It Ain'T You It'S Somethin' Else. I Ain'T More Out Of Sorts Than 
   Usual." 
     
     
     
   "Well, You'Ll Soon Be Rid Of Me--I'Ll Be Through In an Hour." 
     
     
     
   "Yes, And Here It Is The Middle Of The Afternoon, And You Haven'T Had 
   Your Dinner Yet, And For All I Know, No Breakfast Nuther. I Was Precious 
   Careful To Have Both Of Mine, And Find It Very Comfortable Standin' Here 
   A-Growlin' While You'Re Workin' On An Empty Stomach. But It'S Just Like 
   Me. A-A-H! I'Ll Call You In a Few Minutes, And I Won'T Pay You A Cent 
   Unless You Come In;" And The Old Man Started for The Small Dilapidated 
   Cottage Which He Shared with The Cat And Dog That, As He Stated, Managed 
   To Worry Along With Him. 
     
     
     
   But He Had Not Taken Many Steps Before He Stumbled slightly Against A 
   Loose Stone, And He Stopped for A Moment, As If He Could Find No 
   Language Equal To The Occasion, And Then Commenced such A Tirade Of 
   Abuse With His Poor Weazened little Self As Its Object, That One Would 
   Naturally Feel Like Taking Sides With The Decrepit Body Against The 
   Vindictive Spirit. Haldane Would Have Knocked a Stranger Down Had He 
   Said Half As Much To The Old Gentleman, Who Seemed bent On Befriending 
   Him After His Own Odd Fashion. But The Irate Old Man Finished his 
   Objurgation With The Words: 
     
     
     
   "What'S One Doin' Above Ground Who Can'T Lift His Foot Over A Stone Only 
   An Inch High? A-A-H!" And Then He Went On, And Disappeared in the House, 
   From The Open Door Of Which Not Long After Came The Savory Odor Of 
   Coffee. 
     
     
     
   Partly To Forget His Miserable Self In his Employer'S Strange Manner, 
   And Partly Because He Was Almost Faint From Hunger, Haldane Concluded to 
   Accept This First Invitation To Dine Out In hillaton, Resolving That He 
   Would Do His Queer Host Some Favor To Make Things Even. 
     
     
     
   "Come In," Shouted mr. Growther A Few Minutes Later. 
     
     
     
   Haldane Entered quite A Large Room, Which Presented an Odd Aspect Of 
   Comfort And Disorder. 
     
     
     
   "There'S A Place To Wash Your Hands, If You Think It'S Wuth While. I 
   Don'T Often, But I Hope There'S Few Like Me," Said The Busy Host, 
   Lifting The Frying-Pan From Some Coals, And Emptying From It A Generous 
   Slice Of Ham And Three Or Four Eggs On A Platter. 
     
     
     
   "I Like Your Open Fire-Place," Said Haldane, Looking Curiously Around 
   The Hermitage As He Performed his Ablutions. 
     
     
     
   "That'S A Nuther Of My Weaknesses. I Know A Stove Would Be More 
   Convenient And Economical, But I Hate All Improvements." 
     
     
     
   "One Would Think, From What You Said, Your Cat And Dog Had A Hard Time 
   Of It; But Two More Sleek, Fat, And Lazy Animals I Never Saw." 
     
     
     
   "No Thanks To Me. I S'Pose They'Ve Got Clear Consciences." 
     
     
     
   As The Table Began To Fairly Groan With Good Things, Haldane Said: 
     
     
     
   "Look Here, Mr. Growther, Are You In the Habit Of Giving Disreputable 
   People Such A Dinner As That?" 
     
     
     
   "If It'S Good Enough For Me, It'S Good Enough For You," Was The Tart 
   Reply. 
     
     
     
   "O, I'M Not Finding Fault; I Only Wanted you To Know That I Would Be 
   Grateful For Much Less." 
     
     
     
   "I'M Not Doin' It To Please You, But To Spite Myself." 
     
     
     
   "Have Your Own Way, Of Course," Said Haldane, Laughing: "It'S A Little 
   Odd, Though, That Your Spite Against Yourself Should Mean So Much 
   Practical Kindness To Me." 
     
     
     
   "Hold On!" Cried his Host, As Haldane Was About To Attack The Viands; 
   "Ain'T You Goin' To Say Grace?" 
     
     
     
   "Well," Said The Young Man, Somewhat Embarrassed, "I Would Rather You 
   Would Say It For Me." 
     
     
     
   "I Might As Well Eat Your Dinner For You." 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Growther, You Are An Unusually Honest Man, And I Think A Kind One; 
   So I Am Not Going To Act Out Any Lies Before You. Although Your Dinner 
   Is The Best One I Have Seen For Many A Long Day, Or Am Likely To See, 
   Yet, To Tell You The Truth, I Could Swear Over It Easier Than I Could 
   Pray Over It." 
     
     
     
   "A-A-H! That'S The Right Spirit; That'S The Way I Ought To Feel. Now You 
   See What A Mean Hypocrite I Am. I'M No Christian--Far From It--And Yet I 
   Always Have A Sneakin' Wish To Say Grace Over My Victuals. As If It 
   Would Do Anybody Any Good! If I'D Jest Swear Over 'Em, As You Say, Then 
   I Would Be Consistent." 
     
     
     
   "Are You In earnest In all This Strange Talk?" 
     
     
     
   "Yes, I Am; I Hate Myself." 
     
     
     
   "Why?" 
     
     
     
   "Because I Know All About Myself. A-A-H!" 
     
     
     
   "How Many Poor, Hungry People Have You Fed since The Year Opened?" 
     
     
     
   "Your Question Shows Me Jest What I Am. I Could Tell You Within Three Or 
   Four. I Found Myself A-Countin' Of 'Em Up And A-Gloryin' In it All The 
   Tother Night, Takin' Credit To Myself For Givin' Away A Few Victuals 
   After I Had Had Plenty Myself. Think Of A Man Gittin' Self-Righteous 
   Over Givin' To Some Poor Fellow-Critters What He Couldn'T Eat Himself! 
   If That Ain'T Meanness, What Is It? A-A-H!" 
     
     
     
   "But You Haven'T Told Me How Many You Have Fed." 
     
     
     
   "No, And I Ain'T A-Goin' To--Jest To Spite Myself. I Want To Tell You, 
   And To Take Credit For It, But I'Ll Head Myself Off This Time." 
     
     
     
   "But You Could Eat These Things Which You Are Serving To Me--If Not 
   To-Day, Why, Then To-Morrow." 
     
     
     
   "To-Morrow'S Income Will Provide For To-Morrow. The Lord Shows He'S Down 
   On This Savin' And Hoardin' Up Of Things, For He Makes 'Em Get Musty 
   Right Away; And If Anything Spiles On My Hands I'M Mad Enough To Bite 
   Myself In two." 
     
     
     
   "But If You Treat All Stragglers As You Do Me, You Do Not Give Away Odds 
   And Ends And What'S Left Over. This Coffee Is Fine Old Java, And A More 
   Delicate Ham I Never Tasted." 
     
     
     
   "Now You Hit Me Twice. I Will Have The Best For Myself, Instead Of 
   Practicin' Self-Denial And Economy. Then I'M Always Wantin' To Get Some 
   Second-Hand Victuals To Give Away, But I Daresn'T. You See I Read The 
   Bible Sometimes, And It'S The Most Awfully Oncomfortable Book That Ever 
   Was Written. You Know What The Lord Says In it--Or You Ought To--About 
   What We Do For The Least Of These His Brethren; That Means Such As You, 
   Only You'Re A Sort Of Black Sheep In the Family; And If Words Have Any 
   Sense At All, The Lord Takes My Givin' You A Dinner The Same As If I 
   Gave It To Him. Now S'Pose The Lord Came To My House, As He Did To Mary 
   And Martha'S, And I Should Git Him Up A Slimpsy Dinner Of Second-Hand 
   Victuals, And Stand By A-Chucklin' That I Had Saved twenty-Five Cents On 
   It, Wouldn'T That Be Meanness Itself? Some Time Ago I Had A Ham That I 
   Couldn'T And Wouldn'T Eat, And They Wouldn'T Take It Back At The Store, 
   So I Got Some Of The Lord'S Poor Brethren To Come To Dinner, And I 
   Palmed it Off On Them. But I Had To Cuss Myself The Whole Evenin' To Pay 
   Up For It! A-A-H!" 
     
     
     
   "By Jove!" Cried haldane, Dropping His Knife And Fork, And Looking 
   Admiringly At His Host, Who Stood On The Hearth, Running His Fingers 
   Through His Shock Of White Hair, His Shriveled and Bristling aspect 
   Making a Marked contrast With His Sleek And Lazy Cat And Dog--"By Jove, 
   You Are That I Call A Christian!" 
     
     
     
   "Now, Look Here, Young Man," Said Mr. Growther, Wrathfully, "Though You 
   Are Under No Obligations To Me, You'Ve Got No Business Makin' Game Of Me 
   And Callin' Me Names, And I Won'T Stand It. You'Ve Got To Be Civil And 
   Speak The Truth While You'Re On My Premises, Whether You Want To Or No." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Shrugged his Shoulders, Laughed, And Made Haste With His Dinner, 
   For With Such A Gusty And Variable Host He Might Not Get A Chance To 
   Finish It. As He Glanced around The Room, However, And Saw How Cosey And 
   Inviting It Might Be Made By A Little Order And Homelike Arrangement, He 
   Determined to Fix It Up According To His Own Ideas, If He Could 
   Accomplish It Without Actually Coming To Blows With The Occupant. 
     
     
     
   "Who Keeps House For You?" He Asked. 
     
     
     
   "Didn'T I Tell You Nobody Could Stand Me!" 
     
     
     
   "Will You Stand Me For About Half An Hour While I Fix Up This Room For 
   You?" 
     
     
     
   "No!" 
     
     
     
   "What Will You Do If I Attempt It?" 
     
     
     
   "I'Ll Set The Dog On You." 
     
     
     
   "Nothing Worse?" Asked haldane, With A Laughing Glance At The Lazy Cur. 
     
     
     
   "You Might Take Something." 
     
     
     
   An Expression Of Sharp Pain Crossed the Young Man'S Face; The Sunshine 
   Faded out Of It Utterly, And He Said In a Cold, Constrained voice, As He 
   Rose From The Table: 
     
     
     
   "Oh, I Forgot For A Moment That I Am A Thief In the World'S Estimation." 
     
     
     
   "That Last Remark Of Mine Was About Equal To A Kick, Wasn'T It?" 
     
     
     
   "A Little Worse." 
     
     
     
   "Ain'T You Used to 'Em Yet?" 
     
     
     
   "I Ought To Be." 
     
     
     
   "Why, Do Many Speak Out As Plain As That?" 
     
     
     
   "They Act It Out Just As Plainly. Since You Don'T Trust Me, You Had 
   Better Watch Me, Lest I Put Some Cord-Wood In my Pocket." 
     
     
     
   "What Do You Want To Do?" 
     
     
     
   "If The World Is Going To Insist Upon It That I Am A Scoundrel To The 
   End Of The Chapter, I Want To Find Some Deep Water, And Get Under It," 
   Was The Reckless Reply. 
     
     
     
   "A-A-H! Didn'T I Say We Respectable People And The Devil Was In 
   Partnership Over You? He Wants To Get You Under Deep Water As Soon As 
   Possible, And We'Re All A-Helpin' Him Along. Young Man, I _Am_ Afraid Of 
   You, Like The Rest, And It Seems To Me That I Think More Of My Old Duds 
   Here Than Of Your Immortal Soul That The Devil Has Almost Got. But I'M 
   Goin' To Spite Him And Myself For Once. I'M Goin' Down Town After The 
   Evenin' Paper, And, Instead Of Lockin' Up, As I Usually Do, I Shall 
   Leave You In charge. I Know It'S Risky, And I Hate To Do It, But It 
   Seems To Me That You Ought Ter Have Sense Enough To Know That If You 
   Take All I'Ve Got You Would Be Jest That Much Wuss Off;" And Before 
   Haldane Could Remonstrate Or Reply He Took A Curiously Twisted and 
   Gnarled cane That Resembled himself And Departed. 
     
   
   
   
   Chapter XXIII (Mr. Growther Becomes Gigantic) 
   Haldane Was So Surprised at Mr. Growther'S Unexpected course That The 
   Odd Old Man Was Out Of The Gate Before The Situation Was Fully Realized. 
   His First Impulse Was To Follow, And Say That He Would Not Be Left Alone 
   In Circumstances That Might Compromise Him; But A Second Thought Assured 
   Him That He Was Past Being Compromised. So He Concluded to Fall In with 
   His Host'S Queer Humor, And Try To Prove Himself Worthy Of Trust. He 
   Cleared away His Dinner With As Much Deftness As Could Be Expected of 
   One Engaging In an Unusual Task, And Put Everything In its Place, Or 
   What Should Be Its Place. He Next Found A Broom, And Commenced sweeping 
   The Room, Which Unwonted proceeding aroused the Slumbering Cat And Dog, 
   And They Sat Up And Stared at The Stranger With Unfeigned astonishment. 
     
     
     
   The Cat Looked on Quietly And Philosophically, Acting On The Generally 
   Received principle Of The World, Of Not Worrying Until Her Own Interests 
   Seemed threatened. But The Dog Evidently Thought Of The Welfare Of His 
   Absent Master, And Had A Vague Troubled sense That Something Was Wrong. 
   He Waddled up To The Intruder, And Gravely Smelled of Him. By Some 
   Canine Casuistry He Arrived at The Same Conclusion Which Society Had 
   Reached--That Haldane Was A Suspicious Character, And Should Be Kept At 
   Arm'S-Length. Indeed, The Sagacious Beast Seemed to Feel Toward The 
   Unfortunate Youth Precisely The Same Impulse Which Had Actuated all The 
   Prudent Citizens In town--A Desire To Be Rid Of Him, And To Have Nothing 
   To Do With Him. If Haldane Would Only Take Himself Off To Parts Unknown, 
   To Die In a Gutter, Or To Commit A Burglary, That He Might, As It Were, 
   Break Into Jail Again, And So Find A Refuge And An Abiding-Place, The 
   Faithful Dog, Believing His Master'S Interests No Longer Endangered, 
   Would Have Resumed his Nap With The Same Complacence And Sense Of Relief 
   Which Scores Of Good People Had Felt As They Saw Mr. Arnot'S Dishonored 
   Clerk Disappearing From Their Premises, After Their Curt Refusal Of His 
   Services. The Community'S Thoughts And Wary Eyes Followed him Only 
   Sufficiently Long To Be Sure That He Committed no Further Depredations, 
   And Then He Was Forgotten, Or Remembered only As A Danger, Or An 
   Annoyance, Happily Escaped. What Was To Become Of This Drifting Human 
   Atom Appeared to Cause No More Solicitude In town Than Mr. Growther'S 
   Dog Would Feel Should He Succeed in growling The Intruder Out Of The 
   House; For, Being Somewhat Mystified, And Not Exactly Sure As To His 
   Master'S Disposition Toward The Stranger, He Concluded to Limit His 
   Protest To A Union Of His Voice With What Might Be Termed society'S 
   Surly And Monotonous Command, "Move On." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Tried to Propitiate This Mild And Miniature Cerberus With A 
   Dainty Piece Of Ham, But Was Rewarded only By A Disdainful Sniff And 
   Angrier Snarl. The Politic Cat, However, With Wary Glances At The Dog 
   And The Stranger, Stole Noiselessly To The Meat, Seized it, And 
   Retreated quickly To Her Recognized corner Of The Hearth; But When The 
   Youth, Hoping That The Morsel Might Lead To A Friendly Acquaintance, 
   Offered a Caress, Her Back And Tail Went Up Instantly, And She Became 
   The Embodiment Of Repellant Conservatism. He Looked at Her A Moment, And 
   Then Said, With A Bitter Laugh: 
     
     
     
   "If You Could Be Transformed into A Woman, As The Old Fairy Tale Goes, 
   You Would Make An Excellent Wife For Weitzel Shrumpf, While The Snarling 
   Dog Represents The Respectable Portion Of The Community, That Will Have 
   Nothing To Do With Me Whatever. When My Pen, However, Has Brought Name 
   And Fame, The Churlish World Will Be Ready To Fawn, And Forget That It 
   Tried to Trample Me Into The Mire Of The Street Until I Became A Part Of 
   It. Curses On The World! I Would Give Half My Life For The Genius Of A 
   Byron, That I Migt Heap Scorn On Society Until It Writhed under The 
   Intolerable Burden. Oh That I Had A Wit As Keen And Quick As The 
   Lightning, So That I Might Transfix And Shrivel Up The Well-Dressed 
   Monsters That Now Shun Me As If I Had A Contagion!" 
     
     
     
   From A Heart Overflowing With Bitterness And Impotent Protest Against 
   The Condition To Which His Own Act Had Reduced him, Haldane Was Learning 
   To Indulge In such Bitter Soliloquy With Increasing Frequency. It Is 
   Ever The Tendency Of Those Who Find Themselves At Odds With The World, 
   And In conflict With The Established order Of Things, To Inveigh With 
   Communistic Extravagance Against The Conservatism And Wary Prudence 
   Which They Themselves Would Have Maintained had All Remained well With 
   Them. The Haldane Who Had Meditated "Gloomy Grandeur" Would Not Have 
   Looked at The Poor, Besmirched haldane Who Had Just Accepted what The 
   World Would Regard As Charity. The Only Reason Why The Proud, 
   Aristocratic Youth Could Tolerate And Make Excuse For The Disreputable 
   Character Who Was Glad To Eat The Dinner Given By Jeremiah Growther, Was 
   That This Same Ill-Conditioned fellow Was Himself. Thus Every Bitter 
   Thing Which He Said Against Society Was Virtually Self-Condemnation. And 
   Yet His Course Was Most Natural, For Men Almost Invariably Forget That 
   Their Views Change With Their Fortunes. Thousands Will At Once Form A 
   Positive Opinion Of A Subject From Its Aspect Seen At Their Standpoint, 
   Where One Will Walk Around And Scan It On All Sides. 
     
     
     
   Either To Spite Himself, Or To Show His Confidence In one Whom Others 
   Regarded as Utterly Unworthy Of Trust, Mr. Growther Remained away 
   Sufficiently Long For Haldane To Have Made Up A Bundle Of All The 
   Valuables In the House, And Have Escaped. The Young Man Soon Discovered 
   That There Were Valuables, But Anything Like Vulgar Theft Never Entered 
   His Mind. That People Should Believe Him Capable Of Acting The Part Of A 
   Common Thief Was One Of The Strange Things In his Present Experience 
   Which He Could Not Understand. 
     
     
     
   Finally, To The Immense Relief Of The Honest And Conservative Dog, That 
   Had Growled himself Hoarse, Haldane Gave The Room Its Finishing Touches, 
   And Betook Himself To The Woodpile Again. The Cat Watched his Departure 
   With Philosophic Composure. Like Many Fair Ladies, She Had Thought 
   Chiefly Of Herself During The Interview With The Stranger, From Whom She 
   Had Managed to Secure A Little Agreeable Attention Without Giving 
   Anything In return; And, Now That It Was Over, She Complacently Purred 
   Herself To Sleep, With Nothing To Regret. 
     
     
     
   "Hullo! You'Re Here Yet, Eh!" Said Mr. Growther, Entering The Gate. 
     
     
     
   "Can You Name Any Good Reason Why I Should Not Be Here?" Asked haldane, 
   Somewhat Nettled. 
     
     
     
   "No, But I Could Plenty Of Bad Reasons." 
     
     
     
   "Keep Them To Yourself Then," Said The Young Man, Sullenly Resuming His 
   Work. 
     
     
     
   "You Talk As If You Was An Honest Man," Growled the Old Gentleman, 
   Hobbling Into The House. 
     
     
     
   Sitting Down In his Stout Oak Chair To Rest Himself, He Stared in 
   Silence For A Time At The Changes That Haldane Had Wrought. At Last He 
   Commenced: 
     
     
     
   "Now, Jeremiah Growther, I Hope You Can See That You Are A Perfect Pig! 
   I Hope You Can See That Dirt And Confusion Are Your Nateral Elements; 
   And You Had To Live Like A Pig Till A Boy Just Out Of Jail Came To Show 
   You What It Was To Live Like A Decent Human. But You'Ve Been Showed 
   Before, And You'Ll Get Things Mixed up To-Morrow. A-A-H! 
     
     
     
   "Where'S That Young Fellow Goin' To Sleep To-Night? That'S None O' Your 
   Business. Yes, 'Tis My Business, Too. I'M Always Mighty Careful To Know 
   Where I'M Goin' To Sleep, And If I Don'T Sleep Well My Cat And Dog Hear 
   From Me The Next Day. You Could Be Mighty Comfortable Tonight In your 
   Good Bed with This Young Chap Sittin' On A Curb-Stun In the Rain; But I 
   Be Hanged if You Shall Be. It'S Beginnin' To Rain Now--It'S Goin' To Be 
   A Mean Night--Mean As Yourself--A Cold, Oncomfortable Drizzle; Just Such 
   A Night As Makes These Poor Homeless Devils Feel That Since They Are 
   Half Under Water They Might As Well Go Down To The River And Get Under 
   Altogether. P'Raps They Do It Sometimes In the Hope Of Finding a Warm, 
   Dry Place Somewhere. Dreadful Suddint Change For 'Em, Though! And It'S 
   We Respectable, Comfortable People That'S To Blame For These Suddint 
   Changes Half The Time. 
     
     
     
   "You Know That Heady Young Chap Out There Will Go To The Bad If Somebody 
   Don'T Pull Him Up. You Know That It Would Be Mean As Dirt To Let Him Go 
   Wanderin' Off To-Night With Only Fifty Cents In his Pocket, Tryin' To 
   Find Some Place To Put His Head In out Of The Storm; And Yet You Want To 
   Git Out Of Doin' Anything More For Him. You'Re Thinkin' How Much More 
   Comfortable It Will Be To Sit Dozin' In your Chair, And Not Have Any 
   Stranger Botherin' Round. But I'Ll Head You Off Agin In spite Of Your 
   Cussed, Mean, Stingy, Selfish, Old, Shrivelled-Up Soul, That Would Like 
   To Take Its Ease Even Though The Hull World Was A-Groanin' Outside The 
   Door. A-A-H!" 
     
     
     
   Having Made It Clear To The Perverse Jeremiah Growther--Against Whom He 
   Seemed to Hold Such An Inveterate Spite--What He Must Do, He Arose And 
   Called to Haldane: 
     
     
     
   "What Are You Doin' Out There In the Rain?" 
     
     
     
   "I'Ll Be Through In a Few Minutes." 
     
     
     
   "I Don'T Want The Rest Done Till Mornin'." 
     
     
     
   "It Will Pay Neither Of Us For Me To Come Back Here To Do What'S Left." 
     
     
     
   "It May Pay You, And As To Its Payin' Me, That'S My Business." 
     
     
     
   "Not Altogether--I Wish To Do My Work On Business Principles; I Haven'T 
   Got Down To Charity Yet." 
     
     
     
   "Well, Have Your Own Way, Then; I S'Pose Other Folks Have A Right To 
   Have It As Well As Myself, Sometimes. Come In soon As You Are Through." 
     
     
     
   By The Time Haldaue Finished his Task The Clouds Had Settled heavily All 
   Around The Horizon, Hastening Forward An Early And Gloomy Twilight, And 
   The Rain Was Beginning To Fall Steadily. His Mood Comported with The 
   Aspect Of Sky And Earth, And Weariness, The Fast Ally Of Despondency, 
   Aided in giving a Leaden Hue To The Future And A Leaden Weight, To His 
   Thoughts. The Prospect Of Trudging a Mile Or More Through The Drenching 
   Rain To His Previous Squalid Resting-Place At No. 13, Whose Only 
   Attraction Consisted in the Fact That No Questions Were Asked, Was So 
   Depressing That He Decided to Ask Mr. Growther For Permission To Sleep 
   In The Corner Of His Woodshed. 
     
     
     
   "Come In," Shouted mr. Growther, In response To His Knock At The Door. 
     
     
     
   "I'M Through," Said Haldane Laconically. 
     
     
     
   "Well, I Ain'T," Replied mr. Growther; "You Wouldn'T Mind Taking That 
   Cheer Till I Am, Would You?" 
     
     
     
   Haldane Found The Cushioned armchair And The Genial Fire Exceedingly To 
   His Taste, And He Felt That In such Comfortable Quarters He Could Endure 
   Hearing The Old Man Berate Himself Or Any One Else For An Hour Or More. 
     
     
     
   "Where Are You Goin' To Sleep To-Night?" Asked his Quaint-Visaged host. 
     
     
     
   "That Is A Problem I Had Been Considering Myself," Answered haldane, 
   Dubiously. "I Had About Concluded that, Rather Than Walk Back Through 
   The Rain To The Wretched place At Which I Slept Last Night, I Would Ask 
   For The Privilege Of Sleeping In your Wood-Shed. It Wouldn'T Be Much 
   Worse Than The Other Place, Or Any Place In which I Could Find Lodging 
   If I Were Known. Since I Did Not Steal Your Silver I Suppose You Can 
   Trust Me With Your Wood." 
     
     
     
   "Yet They Say Your Folks Is Rich." 
     
     
     
   "Yes, I Can Go To As Elegant A House As There Is In this City." 
     
     
     
   "Why In thunder Don'T You Go There, Then?" 
     
     
     
   "Because I Would Rather Be In your Wood-Shed and Other Places Like It 
   For The Present." 
     
     
     
   "I Can'T Understand That." 
     
     
     
   "Perhaps Not, But There Are Worse Things Than Sleeping Hard And Cold. 
   There Are People Who Suffer More Through Their Minds Than Their Bodies. 
   I Am Not Going Back Among My Former Acquaintances Till I Can Go As A 
   Gentleman." 
     
     
     
   The Old Man Looked at Him Approvingly A Moment, And Then Said 
   Sententiously: 
     
     
     
   "Well, You May Be A Bad Cuss, But You Ain'T A Mean One." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Laughed outright. "Mr. Growther," Said He, "You Do Me Honor. I 
   Foresee You Will Trust Me With Your Wood-Pile To-Night." 
     
     
     
   "No I Won'T Nuther. You Might Not Take My Wood, But You Would Take Cold, 
   And Then I'D Have To Nuss You And Pay Doctor'S Bills, And Bother With 
   You A Week Or More. I Might Even Have Your Funeral On My Hands. You 
   Needn'T Think You'Re Goin' To Get Me Into All This Trouble, Fur I'M One 
   That Hates Trouble, Unless It'S Fur Myself; And, If I Do Say It, It'S 
   Askin' A Little Too Much Of Me, Almost A Stranger, To 'Tend To Your 
   Funeral. I Don'T Like Funerals--Never Did--And I Won'T Have Nothin' To 
   Do With Yours. There'S A Room Right Upstairs Here, Over The Kitchen, 
   Where You Can Sleep Without Wakin' Up The Hull Neighborhood A Coughin' 
   Before Mornin'. Now Don'T Say Nothin' More About It. I'M Thinkin' Of 
   Myself Plaguy Sight More'N I Am Of You. If I Could Let You Go To The 
   Dogs Without Worryin' About It, I'D Do It Quick Enough; But I'Ve Got A 
   Miserable, Sneakin' Old Conscience That Won'T Stand Right Up And Make Me 
   Do Right, Like A Man; But When I Want To Do Some Thin' Mean It Begins A 
   Gnawin' And A Gnawin' At Me Till I Have To Do What I Oughter For The 
   Sate Of A Little Peace And Comfort. A-A-H!" 
     
     
     
   "Your Uncomfortable Conscience Seems Bent On Making Me Very Comfortable; 
   And Yet I Pledge You My Word That I Will Stay Only On One Condition, And 
   That Is, That You Let Me Get Supper And Breakfast For You, And Also Read 
   The Paper Aloud This Evening. I Can See That You Are Tired and Lame From 
   Your Walk. Will You Agree?" 
     
     
     
   "Can'T Very Well Help Myself. These Easterly Storms Allers Brings The 
   Rheumatiz Into My Legs. About All They Are Good Fur Now Is To Have The 
   Rheumatiz In 'Em. So Set Plates For Two, And Fire Ahead." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Entered into His Tasks With Almost Boyish Zest. "I'Ve Camped out 
   In The Woods, And Am Considerable Of A Cook," Said He. "You Shall Have 
   Some Toast Browned to A Turn, To Soak In your Tea, And Then You Shall 
   Have Some More With Hot Cream Poured over It. I'Ll Shave The Smoked beef 
   So Thin That You Can See To Read Through It." 
     
     
     
   "Umph! I Can'T See After Dark Any More Than An Old Hen." 
     
     
     
   "How Did You Expect To Read The Paper Then?" Asked haldane, Without 
   Pausing In his Labors. 
     
     
     
   "I Only Read The Headin'S. I Might As Well Make Up The Rest As The 
   Editors, Fur Then I Can Make It Up To Suit Me. It'S All Made Up Half The 
   Time, You Know." 
     
     
     
   "Well, You Shall Hear The Editors' Yarns To-Night Then, By Way Of 
   Variety." 
     
     
     
   The Old Man Watched the Eager Young Fellow As He Bustled from The 
   Cupboard To The Table, And From The Store-Closet To The Fireplace, With 
   A Kindly Twinkle In his Small Eyes, From Which The Deep Wrinkles Ran In 
   All Directions And In strange Complexity. There Could Scarcely Be A 
   Greater Contrast Than That Between The Headstrong And Stalwart Youth And 
   The Withered and Eccentric Hermit; But It Would Seem That Mutual 
   Kindness Is A Common Ground On Which All The World Can Meet And Add 
   Somewhat To Each Other'S Welfare. 
     
     
     
   The Sound Hard Wood Which Haldane Had Just Sawn Into Billets Blazed 
   Cheerily On The Hearth, Filling The Quaint Old Kitchen With Weird And 
   Flickering Lights And Shades. Mr. Growther Was Projected against The 
   Opposite Wall In the Aspect Of A Benevolent Giant, And Perhaps The 
   Large, Kindly, But Unsubstantial Shadow Was A Truer Type Of The Man Than 
   The Shrivelled anatomy With Which The Town Was Familiar. The 
   Conservative Dog, No Longer Disquieted by Doubts And Fears, Sat Up And 
   Blinked approvingly At The Preparation For Supper. The Politic Cat, Now 
   Satisfied that Any Attentions To The Stranger Would Not Compromise Her, 
   And Might Lead To Another Delicate Morsel, Fawned against His Legs, And 
   Purred as Affectionately As If She Had Known Him All Her Life And Would 
   Not Scratch Him Instantly If He Did Anything Displeasing To Her. 
     
     
     
   Take It Altogether, It Was A Domestic Scene Which Would Have Done Mrs. 
   Arnot'S Heart Good To Have Witnessed; But Poor Mrs. Haldane Would Have 
   Sighed over It As So Utterly Unconventional As To Be Another Proof Of 
   Her Son'S Unnatural Tastes. In her Estimation He Should Spend Social 
   Evenings Only In aristocratic Parlors; And She Mourned over The Fact 
   That From Henceforth He Was Excluded from These Privileged places Of His 
   Birthright, With A Grief Only Less Poignant Than Her Sorrow Over What 
   Seemed to Her A Cognate Truth, That His Course And Character Also 
   Excluded him From Heaven. 
   
   
   
   Chapter XXIV (How Public Opinion Is Often Made) 
   "I Don'T S'Pose There'S Any Use Of Two Such Reprobates As Us Thinkin' 
   About Sayin' Grace," Said Mr. Growther, Taking His Place At The Head Of 
   The Table; "And Yet, As I Said, I Allers Have A Sneakin' Wish Jest To Go 
   Through The Form; So We'Ll All Begin In the Same Way--Cat And Dog And 
   God'S Rational Critters. Howsomever, They Don'T Know No Better, And So 
   Their Consciences Is Clear. I'Ll Own Up This Toast Is Good, If I Am 
   Eatin' It Like A Heathen. If You Can'T Find Anything Else To Do, You Can 
   Take To Cookin' For A Livin'." 
     
     
     
   "No One In town, Save Yourself, Would Trust Me In their Kitchen." 
     
     
     
   "Well, It Does Seem As If A Man Had Better Lose Everything Rather Than 
   His Character," Said Mr. Growther Thoughtfully. 
     
     
     
   "Then It Seems A Pity A Man Can Lose It So Cursed easily," Added haldane 
   Bitterly, "For, Having Lost It, All The Respectable And Well-To-Do Would 
   Rather One Should Go To The Devil A Thousand Times Than Give Him A 
   Chance To Win It Back Again." 
     
     
     
   "You Put It Rather Strong--Rather Strong," Said The Old Man, Shaking His 
   Head; "For Some Reason Or Other I Am Not As Mad At Myself And Everything 
   And Everybody To-Night As Usual, And I Can See Things Clearer. Be Honest 
   Now. A Month Ago You Belonged to The Rich, High-Flyin' Class. How Much 
   Then Would You Have Had To Do With A Young Fellow Of Whom You Knew Only 
   Four Things--That He Gambled, Got Drunk, 'Bezzled a Thousand Dollars, 
   And Had Been In jail? That'S All Most People In town Know About You." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Laid Down His Knife And Fork And Fairly Groaned. 
     
     
     
   "I Know The Plain Truth Is Tough To Hear And Think About, And I'M An Old 
   Brute To Spile Your Supper By Bringing It Up. I Hope You Won'T Think I'M 
   Trying To Save Some Victuals By Doin' It. And Yet It'S The Truth, And 
   You'Ve Got To Face It. But Face It To-Morrow--Face It To-Morrow; Have A 
   Comfortable Time To-Night." 
     
     
     
   "Your Statement Of The Case Is Perfectly Bald," Said Haldane, With A 
   Troubled brow; "There Are Explanatory And Excusing Circumstances." 
     
     
     
   "Yes, No Doubt; But The World Don'T Take Much Account Of Them. When One 
   Gits Into A Scrape, About The Only Question Asked is, What Did He _Do?_ 
   And They All Jump To The Conclusion That If He Did It Once He'Ll Do It 
   Agin. Lookin' Into The Circumstances Takes Time And Trouble, And It 
   Isn'T Human Nature To Bother Much About Other People." 
     
     
     
   "What Chance Is There, Then, For Such As I Am?" 
     
     
     
   The Old Man Hitched uneasily On His Chair, But At Last, With His 
   Characteristic Bluntness Said, "Hanged if I Know! They Say That Them 
   That Gits Down Doesn'T Very Often Git Up Again. Yet I Know They Do 
   Sometimes." 
     
     
     
   "What Would You Do If You Were Me?" 
     
     
     
   "Hanged if I Know That Either! Sit Down And Cuss Myself To All Eternity, 
   Like Enough. I Feel Like Doin' It Sometimes As It Is. A-A-H!" 
     
     
     
   "I Think I Know A Way Out Of The Slough," Said Haldane More 
   Composedly--His Thoughts Recurring To His Literary Hopes--"And If I Do, 
   You Will Not Be Sorry." 
     
     
     
   "Of Course I Won'T Be Sorry. A Man Allers Hates One Who Holds A Mortgage 
   Against Him Which Is Sure To Be Foreclosed. That'S The Way The Devil'S 
   Got Me, And I Hate Him About As Bad As I Do Myself, And Spite Him Every 
   Chance I Git. Of Course, I'Ll Be Glad To See You Git Out Of His 
   Clutches; But He'S Got His Claws In you Deep, And He Holds On To A 
   Feller As If He'D Pull Him In two Before He'Ll Let Go." 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Growther, I Don'T Want To Get Into A Quarrel With You, For I Have 
   Found That You Are Very Touchy On A Certain Point; But I Cannot Help 
   Hinting That You Are Destined to Meet A Great Disappointment When 
   Through With Your Earthly Worry. I Wish My Chances Were As Good As 
   Yours." 
     
     
     
   "Now You Are Beginnin' To Talk Foolishly. I Shall Never Be Rid Of 
   Myself, And So Will Never Be Rid Of My Worry." 
     
     
     
   "Well, Well, We Won'T Discuss The Question; It'S Too Deep For Us Both; 
   But In my Judgment It Will Be A Great Piece Of Injustice If You Ever 
   Find A Warmer Place Than Your Own Hearthstone." 
     
     
     
   "That'S Mighty Hot, Sometimes, Boy; And, Besides, Your Judgment Hasn'T 
   Led you Very Straight So Far," Said The Old Man Testily. "But Don'T Talk 
   Of Such Things. I Don'T Want To Come To 'Em Till I Have To." 
     
     
     
   "Suppose I Should Become Rich And Famous, Mr. Growther," Said Haldane, 
   Changing The Subject; "Would You Let Me Take A Meal With You Then?" 
     
     
     
   "That Depends. If You Put On Any Airs I Wouldn'T." 
     
     
     
   "Good For You!" 
     
     
     
   "Oh, I'D Want To Make Much Of You, And Tell How I Helped you When You 
   Was Down, And So Git All The Reflected glory I Could Out Of You. I'Ve 
   Learned how My Sneakin' Old Speret Pints Every Time; But I'Ll Head It 
   Off, And Drive It Back As I Would A Fox Into Its Hole." 
     
     
     
   In Spite Of Some Rather Harrowing and Gloomy Thoughts On The Part Of Two 
   Of Them, The Four Inmates Of The Cottage Made A Very Comfortable Supper; 
   For Mr. Growther Always Insisted that Since His Cat And Dog Could "Stand 
   Him," They Should Fare As Well As He Did. 
     
     
     
   Having Cleared the Table, Haldane Lighted a Candle--Kerosene Lamps Were 
   An Abomination That Mr. Growther Would Not Abide--And Began Reading 
   Aloud The "Evening Spy." The Old Gentleman Half Listened and Half Dozed, 
   Pricking Up His Ears At Some Tale Of Trouble Or Crime, And Almost 
   Snoring Through Politics And Finance. At Last He Was Half Startled out 
   Of His Chair By A Loud, Wrathful Oath From Haldane. 
     
     
     
   "Look Here, Young Man," He Said; "The Devil Isn'T So Far Off From Either 
   Of Us That You Need shout For Him." 
     
     
     
   "True, Indeed! He Isn'T Far Off, And He Has Everything His Own Way In 
   This World. Listen To This"--And He Read With Sharp, Bitter Emphasis The 
   Following Editorial Paragraph, Headed "Unnatural Depravity": 
     
     
     
   "Being Ever Inclined to View Charitably The Faults And Failings Of 
   Others, And To Make Allowance For The Natural Giddiness Of Youth, We 
   Gave A Rather Lenient Estimate, Not Of The Crime Committed by Mr. 
   Arnot'S Clerk, Egbert Haldane, But Of The Young Man Himself. It Would 
   Seem That Our Disposition To Be Kindly Led us Into Error, For We Learn 
   From Our Most Respectable German Contemporary, Published in this City, 
   That This Same Unscrupulous Young Fraud Has Been Guilty Of The Meanness 
   Of Taking advantage Of A Poor Foreigner'S Ignorance Of Our Language. 
   Having Found It Impossible To Obtain Lodgings Among Those Posted in the 
   Current News Of The Day, And Thus To Impose On Any One To Whom He Was 
   Known, He Succeeded in obtaining Board Of A Respectable German, And Ran 
   Up As Large A Bill As Possible At The Bar, Of Course. When The Landlord 
   Of The Hotel And Restaurant At Last Asked for A Settlement, This Young 
   Scapegrace Had The Insolence To Insist That He Had Paid Every Cent Of 
   His Bill, Though He Had Not A Scrap Of Paper Or Proof To Support His 
   Assertion. Finding That This Game Of Bluster Would Not Succeed, And That 
   His Justly Incensed host Was About To Ask For His Arrest, He Speedily 
   Came Down From His High And Virtuous Mood, And Compromised by Pretending 
   To Offer All The Money He Had. 
     
     
     
   "This Was Undoubtedly A Mere Pretence, For He Had Worn A Valuable Watch 
   In The Morning, And Had Parted with It During The Day. Though The Sum He 
   Apparently Had Upon His Person Was Scarcely Half Payment, The 
   Kind-Hearted german Took Him At His Word, And Also Left Him Seventy-Five 
   Cents To Procure Lodgings Elsewhere. In what Role Of Crime He Will Next 
   Appear It Is Hard To Guess; But It Seems A Pity That Mr. Arnot Did Not 
   Give Him The Full Benefit Of The Law, For Thus The Community Would Have 
   Been Rid, For A Time At Least, Of One Who Can Serve His Day And 
   Generation Better At Breaking Stone Under The Direction Of The State 
   Than By Any Methods Of His Own Choosing. He Is One Of Those Phenomenal 
   Cases Of Unnatural Depravity; For, As Far As We Can Learn, He Comes From 
   A Home Of Wealth, Refinement, And Even Christian Culture. We Warn Our 
   Fellow-Citizens Against Him." 
     
     
     
   "A-A-A-H!" Ejaculated mr. Growther, In prolonged and Painful Utterance, 
   As If One Of His Teeth Had Just Been Drawn. "Now That Is Tough! I Don'T 
   Wonder You Think Satan Had A Finger In that Pie. Didn'T I Tell You The 
   Editors Made Up Half That'S In the Papers? I Don'T Know What Started 
   This Story. There'S Generally A Little Beginning, Like The Seed of A Big 
   Flauntin' Weed; But I Don'T Believe You Did So Mean A Thing. In fact, I 
   Don'T Think I'M Quite Mean Enough To Have Done It Myself." 
     
     
     
   "You, And Perhaps One Other Person, Will Be The Only Ones In town, Then, 
   Who Will Not Believe It Against Me. I Know I'Ve Acted wrong And Like A 
   Fool; But What Chance Has A Fellow When He Gets Credit For Evil Only, 
   And A Hundred-Fold More Evil Than Is In him? Curse It All! Since Every 
   One Insists That I Have Gone Wholly Over To The Devil, I Might As Well 
   Go." 
     
     
     
   "That'S It, That'S It! We'Re All Right At His Elbow, A-Helpin' Him 
   Along. But How Did This Story Start? The Scribbler In the German Paper 
   Couldn'T Have Spun It, Like A Spider, Hully Out Of His Own In'Ards." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Told Him The Whole Story, Sketching The "Kind-Hearted german" In 
   His True Colors. 
     
     
     
   At Its Conclusion Mr. Growther Drew A Long, Meditative Breath, And 
   Remarked sententiously, "Well, I'Ve Allers Heard That 'Sperience Was An 
   Awfully Dear School; But We Do Learn In it. I'Ll Bet My Head You Will 
   Never Pay Another Dollar Without Takin' A Receipt." 
     
     
     
   "What Chance Will I Ever Have To Make Another Dollar? They Have Raised a 
   Mad-Dog Cry Against Me, And I Shall Be Treated as If I Were A Dog." 
     
     
     
   "Why Don'T You Go Home, Then?" 
     
     
     
   "I'Ll Go To The Bottom Of The River First." 
     
     
     
   "That Would Suit The Devil, The Crabs, And The Eels," Remarked mr. 
   Growther. 
     
     
     
   "Faugh! Crabs And Eels!" Exclaimed haldane With A Shudder Of Disgust. 
     
     
     
   "That'S All You'D Find At The Bottom Of The River, Except Mud," 
   Responded mr. Growther, Effectually Quenching all Tragic And Suicidal 
   Ideas By His Prosaic Statement Of The Facts. "Young Man," He Continued, 
   Tottering To His Feet, "I S'Pose You Realize That You Are In a Pretty 
   Bad Fix. I Ain'T Much Of A Mother At Comfortin'. When I Feel Most Sorry 
   For Any One I'M Most Crabbed. It'S One Of My Mean Ways. If There'S Many 
   Screws Loose In you, You Will Go Under. If You Are Rash, Or Cowardly, Or 
   Weak--That Is, Ready To Give Up-Like--You Will Make A Final Mess Of Your 
   Life; But If You Fight Your Way Up You'Ll Be A Good Deal Of A Man. Seems 
   To Me If I Was As Young And Strong As You Be, I'D Pitch In. I'D Spite 
   Myself; I'D Spite The Devil; I'D Beat The World; I'D Just Grit My Teeth, 
   And Go Fur Myself And Everything Else That Stood In my Way, And I'D Whip 
   'Em All Out, Or I'D Die A-Fightin'. But I'Ve Got So Old And Rheumatic 
   That All I Can Do Is Cuss. A-A-H!" 
     
     
     
   "I Will Take Your Advice--I Will Fight It Out," Exclaimed the Excitable 
   Youth With An Oath. Between Indignation And Desperation He Was 
   Thoroughly Aroused. He Already Cherished only Revenge Toward The World, 
   And He Was Catching The Old Man'S Vindictive Spirit Toward Himself. 
     
     
     
   Mr. Growther Seemed almost As Deeply Incensed as His Guest At The Gross 
   Injustice Of The Paragraph, Which, Nevertheless, Would Be Widely Copied, 
   And Create Public Opinion, And So Double The Difficulties In the Young 
   Man'S Way; And He Kept Up As Steady A Grumble And Growl As Had His 
   Sorely Disquieted dog In the Afternoon. But Haldane Lowered at The Fire 
   For A Long Time In silence. 
     
     
     
   "Well," Concluded the Quaint Old Cynic, "Matters Can'T Be Mended by 
   Swearin' At 'Em, Is Advice I Often Give Myself, But Never Take. I S'Pose 
   It'S Bed-Time. To-Morrow We Will Take Another Squint At Your Ugly 
   Fortunes, And See Which Side Pints Toward Daylight. Would You Mind 
   Readin' A Chapter In the Bible First?" 
     
     
     
   "What Have I To Do With The Bible?" 
     
     
     
   "Well, The Bible Has A Good Deal To Say About You And Most Other 
   People." 
     
     
     
   "Like Those Who Pretend To Believe It, It Has Nothing Good To Say About 
   Me. I'Ve Had About All The Hard Names I Can Stand For One Night." 
     
     
     
   "Read Where It Hits Some Other Folks, Then." 
     
     
     
   "Oh, I Will Read Anywhere You Like. It'S A Pity If I Can'T Do That Much 
   For Perhaps The Only One Now Left In the World Who Would Show Me A 
   Kindness." 
     
     
     
   "That'S A Good Fellow. There'S One Chapter I'D Like To Hear To-Night. 
   The Words Come Out So Strong And Hearty-Like That They Generally Express 
   Just My Feelin'S. Find The Twenty-Third Chapter Of Matthew, And Read 
   Where It Says, 'Woe Unto You, Scribes And Pharisees, Hypocrites.'" 
     
     
     
   Haldane Read The Chapter With Much Zest, Crediting all Its Denunciation 
   To Others, In accordance With A Very General Fashion. When He Came To 
   The Words, "Ye Serpents, Ye Generation Of Vipers," The Old Man Fairly 
   Rubbed his Hands Together In his Satisfaction, Exclaiming: 
     
     
     
   "That'S It! That'S Genuine! That'S Telling Us Sleek, Comfortable Sinners 
   The Truth Without Mincin'! No Smooth, Deludin' Lies In that Chapter. 
   That'S The Way To Talk To People Who Don'T Want Their Right Hand To Know 
   What Cussedness Their Left Hand Is Up To. Now, Jeremiah Growther, The 
   Next Time You Want To Do A Mean Thing That You Wouldn'T Have All The 
   Town Know, Just Remember What A Wrigglin' Snake In the Grass You Are." 
     
     
     
   With This Personal Exhortation Mr. Growther Brought The Evening To A 
   Close, And, Having Directed haldane To His Comfortable Quarters, Hobbled 
   And Mumbled off To An Adjoining Room, And Retired for The Night. The 
   Dying Fire Revealed for A Time The Slumbering Cat And Dog, But Gradually 
   The Quaint Old Kitchen Faded into A Blank Of Darkness. 
     
   
   
   
   Chapter XXV (A Paper Poniard) 
   Throughout An Early Breakfast Mr. Growther Appeared to Be Revolving Some 
   Subject In his Mind, And His Question, At Last, Was Only Seemingly 
   Abrupt, For It Came At The End Of Quite A Long Mental Altercation, In 
   Which, Of Course, He Took Sides Against Himself. 
     
     
     
   "I Say, Young Man, Do You Think You Could Stand Me?" 
     
     
     
   "What Do You Mean?" Asked haldane. 
     
     
     
   "Well, Before You Say No, You Ought To Realize All The Bearin'S Of The 
   Case. The Town Is Down On You. Respectable People Won'T Have Nothin' To 
   Do With You, Any More Than They Would Walk Arm In arm With The 
   Charcoal-Man In their Sunday Toggery. I Aren'T Respectable, So You Can'T 
   Blacken Me. I'Ve Showed you I'M Not Afraid To Trust You. You Can'T Sleep 
   In The Streets, You Can'T Eat Pavin'-Stuns And Mud, And You Won'T Go 
   Home. This Brings Me To The Question Again: Can You Stand Me? I Warn You 
   I'M An Awful Oncomfortable Customer To Live With; I Won'T Take Any Mean 
   Advantage Of You In this Respect, And, What'S More, I Don'T S'Pose I'Ll 
   Behave Any Better For Your Sake Or Anybody Else'S. I'M All Finished and 
   Cooled off, Like An Old Iron Casting, And Can'T Be Bent Or Made Over In 
   Any Other Shape. You'Re Crooked enough, The Lord Knows; But You'Re Kind 
   O' Limber Yet In your Moral J'Nts, And You May Git Yourself In decent 
   Shape If You Have A Chance. I'Ve Taken A Notion To Give You A Chance. 
   The Only Question Is, Can You Stand Me?" 
     
     
     
   "It Would Be Strange If I Could Not Stand The Only Man In hillaton Who 
   Has Shown A Human And Friendly Interest In me. But The Thing I Can'T 
   Stand Is Taking Charity." 
     
     
     
   "Who'S Asked you To Take Charity?" 
     
     
     
   "What Else Would It Be--My Living Here On You?" 
     
     
     
   "I Can Open A Boardin'-House If I Want To, Can'T I? I Have A Right To 
   Lend My Own Money, I S'Pose. You Can Open A Ledger Account With Me To A 
   Penny. What'S More, I'Ll Give You A Receipt Every Time," Added the Old 
   Man, With A Twinkle In his Eye; "You Don'T Catch Me Gettin' Into The 
   Papers As 'Kind-Hearted' Mr. Growther." 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Growther, I Can Scarcely Understand Your Kindness To Me, For I Have 
   No Claim On You Whatever. As Much As I Would Like To Accept Your Offer, 
   I Scarcely Feel It Right To Do So. I Will Bring Discredit To You With 
   Certainty, And My Chances Of Repaying You Seem Very Doubtful Now." 
     
     
     
   "Now, Look Here, Young Man, I'Ve Got To Take My Choice 'Twixt Two Evils. 
   On One Side Is You. I Don'T Want You Botherin' Round, Seein' My Mean 
   Ways. For The Sake Of Decency I'Ll Have To Try To Hold In a Little 
   Before You, While Before My Cat And Dog I Can Let Out As I Please; So 
   I'D Rather Live Alone. But The Tother Side Is A Plaguy Sight Worse. If I 
   Should Let You Go A-Wanderin' Off You Don'T Know Where, The Same As If I 
   Should Start My Dog Off With A Kick, Knowin' That Every One Else In town 
   Would Add A Kick Or Fire A Stun, I Couldn'T Sleep Nights Or Enjoy My 
   Vittels. I'D Feel So Mean That I Should Jest Set And Cuss Myself From 
   Mornin' Till Night. Look Here, Now; I Couldn'T Stan' It," Concluded mr. 
   Growther, Overcome By The Picture Of His Own Wretchedness. "Let'S Have 
   No More Words. Come Back Every Night Till You Can Do Better. Open An 
   Account With Me. Charge What You Please For Board And Lodgin', And Pay 
   All Back With Lawful Interest, If It'Ll Make You Sleep Better." And So 
   It Was Finally Arranged. 
     
     
     
   Haldane Started out Into The Sun-Lighted streets Of The City As A Man 
   Might Sally Forth In an Enemy'S Country, Fearing The Danger That Lurked 
   On Every Side, And Feeling That His Best Hope Was That He Might Be 
   Unnoted and Unknown. He Knew That The Glance Of Recognition Would Also 
   Be A Glance Of Aversion And Scorn, And, To His Nature, Any Manifestation 
   Of Contempt Was Worse Than A Blow. He Now Clung To His Literary Ventures 
   As The One Rope By Which He Could Draw Himself Out Of The Depths Into 
   Which He Had Fallen, And Felt Sure That He Must Hear From Some Of His 
   Manuscripts Within A Day Or Two. He Went To The Post-Office In a Tremor 
   Of Anxiety Only To Hear The Usual Response, "Nothing For E. H." 
     
     
     
   With Heavy Steps And A Sinking Heart He Then Set Out In his Search For 
   Something To Do, And After Walking Weary Miles He Found Only A Small Bit 
   Of Work, For Which He Received but Small Compensation. He Returned 
   Despondently In the Evening To His Refuge At Mr. Growther'S Cottage, And 
   His Quaint Good Samaritan Showed his Sympathy By Maintaining a Perpetual 
   Growl At Himself And The "Disjinted world" In general. But Haldane 
   Lowered at The Fire And Said Little. 
     
     
     
   Several Successive Days Brought Disappointment, Discouragement, And Even 
   Worse. The Slanderous Paragraph Concerning His Relations With Mr. 
   Shrumpf Was Copied by The _Morning Courier,_ With Even Fuller And 
   Severer Comment. Occasionally Upon The Street And In his Efforts To 
   Procure Employment, He Was Recognized, And Aversion, Scorn, Or Rough 
   Dismissal Followed instantly. 
     
     
     
   For A Time He Honestly Tried to Obtain The Means Of Livelihood, But This 
   Became More And More Difficult. People Of Whom He Asked employment 
   Naturally Inquired his Name, And He Was Fairly Learning To Hate It From 
   Witnessing The Malign Changes In aspect And Manner Which Its Utterance 
   Invariably Produced. The Public Had Been Generally Warned against Him, 
   And To The Natural Distrust Inspired by His First Crime Was Added a 
   Virtuous Indignation At The Supposed low Trickery In his Dealing With 
   The Magnanimous Mr. Shrumpf, "The Poor But Kind-Hearted german." 
   Occasionally, That He Might Secure A Day'S Work In full Or In part, He 
   Was Led to Suppress His Name And Give An _Alias_. 
     
     
     
   He Felt As If He Had Been Caught In a Swift Black Torrent That Was 
   Sweeping Him Down In spite Of All That He Could Do; He Also Felt That 
   The Black Tide Would Eventually Plunge Him Into An Abyss Into Which He 
   Dared not Look. He Struggled hard To Regain A Footing, And Clutched 
   Almost Desperately At Everything That Might Impede Or Stay His Swift 
   Descent; But Seemingly In vain. 
     
     
     
   His Mental Distress Was Such That He Was Unable To Write, Even With The 
   Aid Of Stimulants; And He Also Felt That It Was Useless To Attempt 
   Anything Further Until He Heard From The Manuscripts Already In 
   Editorial Hands. But The Ominous Silence In regard To Them Remained 
   Unbroken, As A Result, He Began To Give Way To Moods Of The Deepest 
   Gloom And Despondency, Which Alternated with Wild And Reckless Impulses. 
     
     
     
   He Was Growing Intensely Bitter Toward Himself And All Mankind. Even The 
   Image Of His Kind Friend, Mrs. Arnot, Began To Merge Itself Into Merely 
   That Of The Wife Of The Man Who Had Dealt Him A Blow From Which He Began 
   To Fear He Would Never Recover. He Was Too Morbid To Be Just To Any One, 
   Even Himself, And He Felt That She Had Deserted and Turned against Him 
   Also, Forgetting That He Had Given Her No Clew To His Present Place Of 
   Abode, And Had Sent A Message Indicating That He Would Regard Any Effort 
   To Discover Him As Officious And Intrusive. He Quite Honestly Believed 
   That By This Time She Had Come To Share In the General Contempt And 
   Hostility Which Is Ever Cherished toward Those Whom Society Regards As 
   Not Only Depraved and Vile, But Also Dangerous To Its Peace. It Seemed 
   As If Both She And Laura Had Receded from Him To An Immeasurable 
   Distance, And He Could Not Think Of Either Without Almost Gnashing His 
   Teeth In rage At Himself, And At What He Regarded as His Perverse And 
   Cruel Fate. At Times He Would Vainly Endeavor To Banish Their Images 
   From His Mind, But More Often Would Indulge In wild And Impossible 
   Visions Of Coming Back To Them In a Dazzling Halo Of Literary Glory, And 
   Of Overwhelming Them With Humiliation That They Were So Slow To 
   Recognize The Genius Which Smouldered for Weeks Under Their Very Eyes. 
     
     
     
   But His Dreams Were In truth "Baseless Fabrics" For At Last There Came A 
   Letter Addressed to "E. H.," With The Name Of A Popular Literary Paper 
   Printed upon It. He Clutched it With A Hand That Shook In his Eagerness, 
   And Walked half A Mile Before Finding a Nook Sufficiently Secluded in 
   Which To Open The Fateful Missive. There Were Moments As He Hastened 
   Through The Streets When The Crumpled letter Was Like A Live Coal In his 
   Hand; Again It Seemed throbbing With Life, And He Held It Tighter, As 
   Though It Might Escape. With A Chill At Heart He Also Admitted that This 
   Bit Of Paper Might Be A Poniard That Would Stab His Hope And So Destroy 
   Him. 
     
     
     
   He Eventually Entered a Half-Completed dwelling, Which Some One Had 
   Commenced to Build But Was Not Able To Finish. 
     
     
     
   It Was A Wretched, Prosaic Place, That Apparently Had Lost Its Value 
   Even To The Owner, And Had Become To The Public At Large Only An 
   Unsightly Blot Upon The Street. There Was No Danger Of His Being 
   Disturbed here, For The Walls Were Not Sufficiently Advanced to Have 
   Ears, And Even A Modern Ghost Would Scorn To Haunt A Place Whose Stains 
   Were Not Those Of Age, And Whose Crumbling Ruins Resulted only From 
   Superficial And Half-Finished work. Indeed, The Prematurely Old And 
   Abortive House Had Its Best Counterpart In the Young Man Himself, Who 
   Stole Into One Of Its Small, Unplastered rooms With Many A Wary Glance, 
   As Though It Were A Treasure-Vault Which He Was Bent On Plundering. 
     
     
     
   Feeling at Last Secure From Observation, He Tremblingly Opened the 
   Letter, Which He Hoped contained the First Instalment Of Wealth And 
   Fame. It Was, Indeed, From The Editor Of The Periodical, And, 
   Remembering The Avalanche Of Poetry And Prose From Beneath Which This 
   Unfortunate Class Must Daily Struggle Into Life And Being, It Was 
   Unusually Kind And Full; But To Haldane It Was Cruel As Death--A 
   Spartan Short-Sword, Only Long Enough To Pierce His Heart. It Was To The 
   Following Effect: 
     
     
     
   "E. H.--Dear Sir: It Would Be Easier To Throw Your Communication Into 
   The Waste-Basket Than Thus To Reply; And Such, I May Add, Is The Usual 
   Fate Of Productions Like Yours. But Something In your Letter 
   Accompanying The Mss. Caught My Attention, And Induced me To Give You A 
   Little Good Advice, Which I Fear You Will Not Take, However. You Are 
   Evidently A Young And Inexperienced man, And I Gather From Your Letter 
   That You Are In trouble Of Some Nature, And, Also, That You Are Building 
   Hopes, If Not Actually Depending, Upon The Crude Labors Of Your Pen. Let 
   Me Tell You Frankly At Once That Literature Is Not Your Forte. It You 
   Have Sent Literary Work To Other Parties Like That Inclosed to Me You 
   Will Never Hear From It Again. In the First Place, You Do Not Write 
   Correctly; In the Second, You Have Nothing To Say. We Cannot Afford To 
   Print Words Merely--Much Less Pay For Them. What Is Worse, Many Of Your 
   Sentences Are So Unnatural And Turgid As To Suggest That You Sought In 
   Stimulants A Remedy For Paucity Of Ideas. Take Friendly Advice. Attempt 
   Something That You Are Capable Of Doing, And Build Your Hopes On _That_. 
   Any Honest Work--Even Sawing Wood--Well Done, Is Better Than Childish 
   Efforts To Perform What, To Us, Is Impossible. Before You Can Do 
   Anything In the Literary World It Is Evident That Years Of Culture And 
   Careful Reading Would Be Necessary. But, As I Have Before Said, Your 
   Talents Do Not Seem To Be In this Direction. Life Is Too Precious To Be 
   Wasted in vain Endeavor; And That Reminds Me That I Have Spent Several 
   Moments, And From The Kindliest Motives, In stating To You Facts Which 
   You May Regard As Insults. But Were The Circumstances The Same I Would 
   Give My Own Son The Same Advice. Do Not Be Discouraged; There Is Plenty 
   Of Other Work Equally Good And Useful As That For Which You Seem 
   Unfitted. Faithfully Yours, ---- ----" 
     
     
   
   
   
   Chapter XXVI (A Sorry Knight) 
   The Writer Has Known Men To Receive Mortal Wounds In battle, Of Which, 
   At The Moment, They Were Scarcely Conscious. The Mind, In times Of Grand 
   Excitement, Has Often Risen So Far Superior To The Material Body That 
   Only By Trickling Blood Or Faintness Have Persons Become Aware Of Their 
   Injuries. But "A Wounded spirit, Who Can Bear?" And When Did Hope, 
   Self-Love, Or Pride, Ever Receive Home-Thrusts Unconsciously? 
     
     
     
   The Well-Meaning Letter, Written By The Kindly Editor, And Full Of 
   Wholesome Advice, Cut Like A Surgeon'S Knife In some Desperate Case When 
   It Is A Question Whether The Patient Can Endure The Heroic Treatment 
   Necessary. Haldane'S Stilted and Unnatural Tales Had Been Projected into 
   Being By Such Fiery And Violent Means That They Might Almost Be Termed 
   Volcanic In their Origin; But The Fused mass Which Was The Result, 
   Resembled scoria Or Cinders Rather Than Fine Metal Shaped into Artistic 
   Forms. Although His Manuscripts Could Have Been Sold In the World'S 
   Market Only By The Pound, He Had Believed, Or, At Least, Strongly Hoped 
   Otherwise, Like So Many Others, Who, With Beating Hearts, Have Sent The 
   Children Of Their Brains Out To Seek Their Fortunes With No Better 
   Results. 
     
     
     
   The Unbroken And Ominous Silence Of The Returned manuscript Is A Severe 
   Disappointment Even To Those Who From Safe And Happy Homes Have Sought 
   To Gain The Public Ear, And Whose Impelling Motive Toward Literature Is 
   Scarcely More Than An Impulse Of Vanity. But To Haldane The Letter, 
   Which In giving The Editorial Estimate Of One Of His Stories Revealed 
   The Fate Of All The Others, Brought Far More Than A Mere Disappointment. 
   It Brought Despair And The Recklessness And Demoralization Which 
   Inevitably Follow. The Public Regarded him As A Depraved, Commonplace 
   Vagabond, Eminent Only In his Capacity For Evil And Meanness, And He Now 
   Inclined strongly To The Same View Of Himself. True Self-Respect He Had 
   Never Possessed, And His Best Substitute, Pride, At Last Gave Way. He 
   Felt That He Was Defeated for Life, And The Best That Life Could Now 
   Offer Was A Brief Career Of Sensual Pleasure. Mrs. Arnot And Laura 
   Romeyn Were So Far Removed from Him As The Stars; It Was Torment To 
   Think Of Them, And He Would Blot Out Their Memory And The Memory Of All 
   That He Had Hoped for, With Wine And Excitement. It Seemed to Him That 
   The World Said To Him With United voice, "Go To The Devil," And Then 
   Made It Impossible For Him To Do Otherwise. 
     
     
     
   Since He Was Defeated--Since All His Proud Assurances To His Mother That 
   He Would, Alone And Unaided, Regain His Lost Good Name And Position In 
   Society, Had Proved but Empty Boasts--He Would No Longer Hide The Fact 
   From Her, Not In the Hope Of Being Received at Home As A Repentant 
   Prodigal (Even The Thought Of Such A Course Was Unendurable), But With 
   The Purpose Of Obtaining From Her The Means Of Entering Upon A Life Of 
   Vicious Pleasure. 
     
     
     
   The Young Man'S Father--Impelled both By His Strong Attachment For His 
   Wife, And Also By The Prudent Forethought With Which Men Seek To Protect 
   And Provide For Those They Love, Long After They Have Passed away From 
   Earthly Life--Had Left His Property Wholly In trust To His Wife, 
   Associating With Her One Or Two Other Chosen Counsellors. As Long As She 
   Lived and Remained unmarried she Controlled it, The Husband Trusting To 
   Her Affection For Her Children To Make Suitable Provision For Them. He 
   Had Seen With Prophetic Anxiety The Mother'S Fond Indulgence Of Their 
   Only Son, And The Practical Man Dreaded the Consequences. He Therefore 
   Communicated to Her Verbally, And Also Embodied in his Will, His Wish 
   That His Son Should Have No Control Over The Principal Of Such Portion 
   Of The Estate As Would Eventually Fall To Him Until He Had Established a 
   Character That Secured the Confidence Of All Good Men, And Satisfied the 
   Judgment Of The Cautious Co-Executors. The Provisions Of The Will Still 
   Further Required that, Should The Young Man Prove Erratic And Vicious, 
   His Income Should Be Limited in such Ways As Would, As Far As Possible, 
   Curb Excess. 
     
     
     
   Haldane Knew All This, And In the Days Of His Confidence In himself And 
   His Brilliant Future Had Often Smiled at These "Absurd Restrictions." 
   The Idea That There Would Ever Be Any Reason For Their Enforcement Was 
   Preposterous, And The Thought Of His Fond, Weak Mother Refusing anything 
   That He Demanded, Was Still Further Out Of The Range Of Possibility. 
     
     
     
   The Wretched youth Now Sank Into A Far Lower Depth Than He Had Ever Yet 
   Reached. He Deliberately Resolved to Take Advantage Of That Mother'S 
   Weakness, And For The Basest Ends. While Under The Influence Of Hope And 
   Pride, He Had Resolved to Receive No Assistance Even From Her, So That 
   He Might Wholly Claim The Credit Of Regaining all That He Had Lost; But 
   Now, In the Recklessness Of Despair, He Proposed not Only To Ask For All 
   The Money He Could Obtain, But, If Necessary, Extort It By Any Means In 
   His Power. 
     
     
     
   He And The Forlorn Place Of His Bitter Revery Grew More And More Into 
   Harmony. The Small, Half-Finished apartment Of The Ruinous New House 
   Became More Truly The Counterpart Of His Life, It Was Bare; It Was 
   Unsightly From The Debris Of Its Own Discolored and Crumbling Walls. The 
   Possibility Of Sweet Home Scenes Had Passed from It, And It Had Become A 
   Place In which An Orgy Might Be Hidden, Or Some Revolting Crime 
   Committed. To Precisely This Use Haldane Put His Temporary Refuge Before 
   Leaving It; For Excesses And Evil Deeds That The Mind Has Deliberately 
   Resolved upon Are Virtually Accomplished facts As Far As The Wrong-Doer 
   Is Concerned. Before Leaving His Dingy Hiding-Place Haldane Had In the 
   Depths Of His Soul Been Guilty Of Drunkenness And All Kinds Of Excess. 
   He Also Purposed unutterable Baseness Toward The Widowed mother Whom, By 
   Every Principle Of True Manhood, He Was Bound To Cherish And Shield; And 
   He Had In volition More Certainly Committed the Act Of Self-Destruction 
   Than Does The Poor Wretch Who, Under Some Mad, Half-Insane Impulse, 
   Makes Permanent By Suicide The Evils A Little Fortitude And Patient 
   Effort Might Have Remedied. There Is No Self-Murder So Hopeless And 
   Wicked as That Of Deliberate Sin Against One'S Own Body And Soul. 
     
     
     
   No Man Becomes A Saint Or Villain In an Hour Or By A Single Step; But 
   There Are Times When Evil Tendencies Combine With Adverse Influences And 
   Circumstances To Produce Sudden And Seemingly Fatal Havoc In character. 
   As The World Goes, Haldane Was A Well-Meaning Youth, Although Cursed 
   With Evil Habits And Tendencies, When He Entered the Isolated, 
   Half-Finished house. He Was Bad And Devilish When He Came Out Upon The 
   Street Again, And Walked recklessly Toward The City, Caring Not Who Saw 
   Or Recognized him. In the Depths Of His Heart He Had Become An Enemy To 
   Society, And, So Far From Hoping To Gain Its Respect And Good-Will, He 
   Defied and Intended to Outrage It To The End Of Life. 
     
     
     
   A Man In such A Mood Gravitates With Almost Certainty Toward The 
   Liquor-Saloon, And Haldane Naturally Commenced drinking at The Various 
   Dens Whose Doors Stood Alluringly Open. His Slender Purse Did Not Give 
   Him The Choice Of High-Priced wines, And To Secure The Mad Excitement 
   And Oblivion He Craved, Only Fiery Compounds Were Ordered--Such As Might 
   Have Been Distilled in the Infernal Regions To Accomplish Infernal 
   Results; And They Soon Began To Possess Him Like A Legion Of Evil 
   Spirits. 
     
     
     
   If Shakespeare Characterized the "Invisible Spirit Of Wine" As A "Devil" 
   In The Unsophisticated days Of Old, When Wine Was Wine, And Not A 
   Hell-Broth Concocted of Poisonous Drugs, What Unspeakable Fiends Must 
   Lurk In the Grimy Bottles Whose Contents, Analyzed and Explained, Would 
   Appall Some, At Least, Of The Stolid And Stony-Hearted venders! 
     
     
     
   Haldane Soon Felt Himself Capable Of Any Wickedness, Any Crime. He 
   Became A Human Volcano, That Might At Any Moment Pass Into A Violent And 
   Murderous Action, Regardless Of Consequences--Indeed, As Utterly 
   Incapable Of Foreseeing and Realizing Them As The Mountain That Belches 
   Destruction On Vineyard And Village. 
     
     
     
   We Regard Ourselves As A Civilized and Christian People, And Yet We 
   Tolerate On Every Corner Places Where Men Are Transformed into Incarnate 
   Devils, And Sent Forth To Run Amuck In our Streets, And Outrage The 
   Helpless Women And Children In their Own Homes. The Naked inhabitants Of 
   Dahomey Could Do No Worse In this Direction. 
     
     
     
   But Haldane Was Not Destined to End His Orgy In the Lurid Glare Of A 
   Tragedy, For, As The Sun Declined, The Miserable Day Was Brought To A 
   Wretched and Fitting Close. Unconsciously He Had Strayed to The Saloon 
   On Whose Low Steps Messrs. Van Wink And Ketchem Had Left Him On The 
   Memorable Night From Which He Dated his Downfall. Of Course He Did Not 
   Recognize The Place, But There Was One Within That Associated him 
   Inseparably With It, And Also With Misfortunes Of His Own. As Haldane 
   Leaned unsteadily Against The Bar A Seedy-Looking Man Glared at Him A 
   Moment, And Then Stepped to His Side, Saying: 
     
     
     
   "I'Ll Take A Few Dhrinks Wid Ye. Faix! After All The Trouble Ye'Ve Been 
   To Me Ye Oughter Kape Me In dhrink The Year." 
     
     
     
   Turning To The Speaker, The Young Man Recognized pat M'Cabe, Whom He 
   Also Associated with His Evil Fortunes, And Toward Whom He Now Felt A 
   Strong Vindictiveness, The Sudden And Unreasoning anger Of Intoxication. 
   In Reply, Therefore, He Threw The Contents Of His Glass Into Pat'S Face, 
   Saying With A Curse: 
     
     
     
   "That Is The Way I Drink With Such As You." 
     
     
     
   Instantly There Was A Bar-Room Brawl Of The Ordinary Brutal Type, From 
   Whose Details We Gladly Escape. Attracted by The Uproar, A Policeman Was 
   Soon On Hand, And Both The Combatants Were Arrested and Marched off To 
   The Nearest Police Station. Bruised, Bleeding, Disheveled, And With Rent 
   Garments, Haldane Again Passed through The Streets As A Criminal, With 
   The Rabble Hooting after Him. But Now There Was No Intolerable Sense Of 
   Shame As At First. He Had Become A Criminal At Heart; He Had 
   Deliberately And Consciously Degraded himself, And His Whole Aspect Had 
   Come To Be In keeping With His Character. 
     
     
     
   It May Be Objected that The Transformation Had Been Too Rapid. It Had 
   Not Been Rapid. His Mother Commenced preparing Him For This In the 
   Nursery By Her Weak Indulgence. She Had Sown The Seeds Of Which His 
   Present Actions Were The Legitimate Outgrowth. The Weeds Of His Evil 
   Nature Had Been Unchecked when Little, And Now They Were Growing So Rank 
   As To Overshadow All. 
     
     
     
   Multitudes Go To Ruin Who Must Trace Their Wrong Bias Back To Cultivated 
   And Even Christian Homes. 
   
   
   
   Chapter XXVII (God Sent His Angel) 
   The Mad Excitement Of Anger And Drunkenness Was Speedily Followed by 
   Stupor, And The Night During Which Haldane Was Locked up In the 
   Station-House Was A Blank. The Next Morning He Was Decidedly Ill As The 
   Result Of His Debauch; For The After-Effects Of The Vile Liquor He Had 
   Drank Was Such As To Make Any Creature Save Rational Man Shun It In the 
   Future With Utter Loathing. 
     
     
     
   But The Officers Of The Law Had Not The Slightest Consideration For His 
   Aching Head And Jarring Nerves. He Was Hustled off To The Police Court 
   With Others, And He Now Seemed in harmony With The Place And Company. 
     
     
     
   Pat M'Cabe Was A Veteran In these Matters, And Had His Witnesses Ready, 
   Who Swore To The Truth, And Anything Else Calculated to Assist Pat, 
   Their Crony, Out Of His Scrape. Unfortunately For Haldane, The Truth Was 
   Against Him, And He Remained sullen And Silent, Making No Defence. The 
   Natural Result, Therefore, Of The Brief Hearing, Was His Committal To 
   The Common Jail For Ten Days, And The Liberation Of Pat, With A Severe 
   Reprimand. 
     
     
     
   Thus, After The Lapse Of A Few Brief Weeks, Haldane Found Himself In the 
   Same Cell Whence He Had Gone Out Promising and Expecting To Accomplish 
   So Much. He Could Not Help Recalling His Proud Words To His Mother And 
   Mrs. Arnot As He Looked around The Bare Walls, And He Was Sufficiently 
   Himself Again To Realize Partially How Complete And Disgraceful Had Been 
   His Defeat. But Such Was His Mood That It Could Find No Better 
   Expression Than A Malediction Upon Himself And The World In general. 
   Then, Throwing Himself Upon His Rude And Narrow Couch, He Again Resigned 
   Himself To His Stupor, From Which He Had Been Aroused to Receive His 
   Sentence. 
     
     
     
   It Was Late In the Afternoon When He Awoke, And His Cell Was Already 
   Growing Dusky With The Coming Night. It Was A Place Congenial To 
   Shadows, And They Came Early And Lingered till The Sun Was High. 
     
     
     
   But As Haldane Slowly Regained full Consciousness, And Recalled all That 
   Had Transpired, He Felt Himself To Be Under A Deeper Shadow Than The 
   Night Could Cast. The World Condemned him, And He Deserved condemnation; 
   But He Was Also Deserving Of Pity. Scarcely More Than Twenty, He Had 
   Seemingly Spoiled his Life Utterly. It Was Torment To Remember The Past, 
   And The Future Was Still Darker; For His Outraged physical Nature So 
   Bitterly Resented its Wrongs By Racking Pains That It Now Seemed to Him 
   That Even A Brief Career Of Sensual Gratification Was Impossible, Or So 
   Counterbalanced with Suffering as To Be Revolting. Though Scarcely More 
   Than Across The Threshold Of Life, Existence Had Become An Unmitigated 
   Evil. Had He Been Brought Up In an Atmosphere Of Flippant Scepticism He 
   Would Have Flung It Away As He Would A Handful Of Nettles; But His 
   Childish Memory Had Been Made Familiar With That Ancient Book Whose 
   Truths, Like Anchors, Enable Many A Soul On The Verge Of Wreck To 
   Outride The Storm. He Was Too Well Acquainted with Its Teachings To 
   Entertain For A Moment The Shallow Theory That A Man Can Escape The 
   Consequences Of Folly, Villany, And Unutterable Baseness By Merely 
   Ceasing To Breathe. 
     
     
     
   He Could Not Eat The Coarse Food Brought To Him For Supper, And His Only 
   Craving Was For Something To Quench His Feverish Thirst. His Long 
   Lethargy Was Followed by Corresponding Sleeplessness And Preternatural 
   Activity Of Brain. That Night Became To Him Like The Day Of Judgment; 
   For It Seemed as If His Memory Would Recall Everything He Had Ever Done 
   Or Said, And Place All Before Him In the Most Dreary And Discouraging 
   Aspect. 
     
     
     
   He Saw His Beautiful And Aristocratic Home, Which He Had Forfeited so 
   Completely That The Prison Would Be More Endurable Than The Forced and 
   Painful Toleration Of His Presence, Which Was The Best He Could Hope For 
   From His Mother And Sisters; And He Felt That He Would Much Rather Stay 
   Where He Was For Life Than Again Meet Old Neighbors And Companions. But 
   He Now Saw How, With That Home And His Father'S Honored name As His 
   Vantage Ground, He Might Have Made Himself Rich And Honored. 
     
     
     
   The Misspent Days And Years Of The Past Became Like So Many Reproachful 
   Ghosts, And He Realized that He Had Idled away The Precious Seed-Time Of 
   His Life, Or, Rather, Had Been Busy Sowing Thorns And Nettles, That Had 
   Grown All Too Quickly And Rankly. Thousands Had Been Spent On His 
   Education; And Yet He Was Oppressed with A Sense Of His Ignorance And 
   Helplessness. Rude Contact With The World Had Thoroughly Banished 
   Self-Conceit, And He Saw That His Mind Was Undisciplined and His 
   Knowledge So Superficial And Fragmentary As To Be Almost Useless. The 
   Editor Of The Paper Whose Columns He Had Hoped to Illumine Told Him That 
   He Could Not Even Write Correctly. 
     
     
     
   While In bitterness Of Soul He Cursed himself For His Wasted life, He 
   Knew That He Was Not Wholly To Blame. Indeed, In accordance With A Trait 
   As Old As Fallen Man, He Sought To Lay The Blame On Another. He Saw That 
   His Own Folly Had Ever Found An Ally In his Mother'S Indulgence, And 
   That, Instead Of Holding Him With A Firm Yet Gentle Hand To His Tasks 
   And Duties, She Had Been The First To Excuse Him From Them And To 
   Palliate His Faults. Instead Of Recalling Her Fond And Blind Idolatry 
   With Tenderness, He Felt Like One Who Had Been Treacherously Poisoned 
   With A Wine That Was Sweet While It Rested on The Palate, But Whose 
   After-Taste Is Vile, And Whose Final Effect Is Death. 
     
     
     
   There Is No Memory That We Cherish So Sacredly And Tenderly As That Of 
   Our Parents' Kind And Patient Love. It Often Softens The Heart Of The 
   Hardened man And Abandoned woman When All Other Influences Are 
   Powerless. But When Love Degenerates Into Idolatry And Indulgence, And 
   Those To Whom The Child Is Given As A Sacred trust Permit It To Grow 
   Awry, And Develop Into Moral Deformity, Men And Women, As Did Haldane, 
   May Breathe Curses On The Blindness And Weakness That Was The Primal 
   Cause Of Their Life-Failure. Throughout That Long And Horrible Night He 
   Felt Only Resentment Toward His Mother, And Cherished no Better Purpose 
   Toward Her Than Was Embodied in his Plan To Wring From Her, Even By 
   Methods That Savored of Blackmail, The Means Of Living a Dissipated life 
   In Some City Where He Was Unknown, And Could Lose Himself In the 
   Multitude. 
     
     
     
   But The Ten Days Of Enforced seclusion And Solitude That Must Intervene 
   Seemed like An Eternity. With A Shudder He Thought Of The Real Eternity, 
   Beyond, When The Power To Excite Or Stupefy His Lower Nature Would Be 
   Gone Forever. That Shadow Was So Dark And Cold That It Seemed to Chill 
   His Very Soul, And By A Resolute Effort Of Will He Compelled his Mind To 
   Dwell Only On The Immediate Future And The Past. 
     
     
     
   Day At Last Dawned slowly And Dimly In his Cell, And Found Him Either 
   Pacing Up And Down Like Some Wild Creature In its Cage, Turning So Often 
   By Reason Of The Limited space As To Be Almost Dizzy, Or Else Sitting On 
   His Couch With His Haggard Face Buried in his Hands. 
     
     
     
   After Fighting all Night Against The Impulse To Think About Mrs. Arnot 
   And Her Niece, He At Last Gave Up The Struggle, And Permitted his Mind 
   To Revert To Them. Such Thoughts Were Only Pain Now, And Yet For Some 
   Reason It Seemed as If His Mind Were Drawn Irresistibly Toward Them. He 
   Felt That His Deep Regret Was As Useless And Unavailing as The November 
   Wind That Sweeps Back And Forth The Withered and Fallen Leaves. His 
   Whole Frame Would At Times Tremble With Gusts Of Remorseful Passion, And 
   Again He Would Sigh Long And Drearily. 
     
     
     
   He Now Realized what A Priceless Opportunity He Had Lost. It Was Once 
   His Privilege To Enter Mrs. Arnot'S Beautiful Home Assured of Welcome. 
   She Had Been Deeply Interested in him For His Mother'S Sake, And Might 
   Have Become So For His Own. He Had Been Privileged to Meet Laura Romeyn 
   As Her Equal, At Least In social Estimation, And He Might Have Made 
   Himself Worthy Of Her Esteem, And Possibly Of Her Affection. He Saw That 
   He Had Foolishly Clamored, Like A Spoiled child, For That Which He Could 
   Only Hope To Possess By Patient Waiting and Manly Devotion; And Now, 
   With A Regret That Was Like A Serpent'S Tooth, He Felt That Such 
   Devotion Might Have Been Rewarded. 
     
     
     
   But A Few Months Ago, Whose Life Had Been More Rich With Promise Than 
   His, Or To Whom Had Been Given A Better Vantage-Ground? And Yet He Had 
   Already Found The Lowest Earthly Perdition Possible, And Had Lost Hope 
   Of Anything Better. 
     
     
     
   In His Impotent Rage And Despair He Fairly Gnashed his Teeth And Cursed 
   Himself, His Fate, And Those Who Had Led to His Evil Fortunes. Then, By 
   A Natural Revulsion Of Feeling, He Sobbed like A Child That Has Lost Its 
   Way And Can Discover No Returning Path, And Whose Heart The Darkness Of 
   The Fast-Approaching Night Fills With Unutterable Dread. 
     
     
     
   He Was A Criminal--In His Despair He Never Hoped to Be Anything 
   Else--But He Was Not A Hardened criminal And Was Still Capable Of 
   Wishing To Be Different. In the Memory Of His Bitter Experience A Pure 
   And Honorable Life Now Appeared as Beautiful As It Was Impossible. He 
   Had No Expectation, However, Of Ever Living Such A Life, For Pride, The 
   Cornerstone Of His Character, Had Given Way, And He Was Too Greatly 
   Discouraged at The Time To Purpose Reform Even In the Future. Without 
   The Spur And Incentive Of Hope We Become Perfectly Helpless In evil; 
   Therefore All Doctrines And Philosophies Which Tend To Quench Or Limit 
   Hope, Or Which Are Bounded by The Narrow Horizon Of Time And Earth, Are, 
   In Certain Emergencies, But Dead Weights, Dragging Down The Soul. 
     
     
     
   At Last, From Sheer Exhaustion, He Threw Himself On His Couch, And Fell 
   Into A Troubled sleep, Filled with Broken And Distorted visions Of The 
   Scenes That Had Occupied his Waking Hours. But He Gradually Became 
   Quieter, And It Appeared in his Dream As If He Saw A Faint Dawning In 
   The East Which Grew Brighter Until A Distinct Ray Of Light Streamed from 
   An Infinite Distance To Himself. Along This Shining Pathway An Angel 
   Seemed approaching Him. The Vision Grew So Distinct And Real That He 
   Started up And Saw Mrs. Arnot Sitting In the Doorway, Quietly Watching 
   Him. Confused and Oblivious Of The Past, He Stepped forward To Speak To 
   Her With The Natural Instinct Of A Gentleman. Then The Memory Of All 
   That Had Occurred rolled before Him Like A Black Torrent, And He Shrank 
   Back To His Couch And Buried his Face In his Hands. But When Mrs. Arnot 
   Came And Placed her Hand On His Shoulder, Saying Gently, But Very 
   Gravely, "Egbert, Since You Would Not Come To Me I Have Come To You," He 
   Felt That His Vision Was Still True, And That God Had Sent His Angel. 
    V 
   
   
   
   Chapter XXVIII (Facing The Consequences) 
   A Young Man Of Haldane'S Age Is Capable Of Despairing Thoughts, And Even 
   Of Desperate Moods, Of Quite Extended continuance; But It Usually 
   Requires A Long Lifetime Of Disaster And Sin To Bury Hope So Deep That 
   The Stone Of Its Sepulchre Is Not Rolled away As The Morning Dawns. 
   Haldane Had Thought That His Hope Was Dead; But Mrs. Arnot'S Presence, 
   Combined with Her Manner, Soon Made It Clear, Even To Himself, That It 
   Was Not; And Yet It Was But A Weak And Trembling Hope, Scarcely Assured 
   Of Its Right To Exist, That Revived at Her Touch And Voice. His Heart 
   Both Clung To And Shrank From The Pure, Good Woman Who Stood Beside Him. 
     
     
     
   He Trembled, And His Breast Heaved convulsively For A Few Moments, And 
   She Quietly Waited until He Should Grow More Calm, Only Stroking His 
   Bowed head Once Or Twice With A Slight And Reassuring Caress. At Last He 
   Asked in a Low, Hoarse Voice: 
     
     
     
   "Do You Know Why I Am Here?" 
     
     
     
   "Yes, Egbert." 
     
     
     
   "And Yet You Have Come In kindness--In Mercy, Rather." 
     
     
     
   "I Have Come Because I Am Deeply Interested in you." 
     
     
     
   "I Am Not Worthy--I Am Not Fit For You To Touch." 
     
     
     
   "I Am Glad You Feel So." 
     
     
     
   "Then Why Do You Come?" 
     
     
     
   "Because I Wish To Help You To Become Worthy." 
     
     
     
   "That'S Impossible. It'S Too Late." 
     
     
     
   "Perhaps It Is. That Is A Question For You Alone To Decide; But I Wish 
   You To Think Well Before You Do Decide It." 
     
     
     
   "Pardon Me, Mrs. Arnot," He Said Emphatically, Raising His Head, And 
   Dashing away Bitter Tears; "The World Has Decided that Question For Me, 
   And All Have Said In one Harsh, United voice, 'You Shall Not Rise.' It 
   Has Ground Me Under Its Heel As Vindictively As If I Were A Viper. You 
   Are So Unlike The World That You Don'T Know It. It Has Given Me No 
   Chance Whatever." 
     
     
     
   "Egbert, What Have You To Do With The World?" 
     
     
     
   "God Knows I Wanted to Recover What I Had Lost," He Continued in the 
   Same Rapid Tone. "God Knows I Left This Cell Weeks Since With The Honest 
   Purpose Of Working My Way Up To A Position That Would Entitle Me To Your 
   Respect, And Change My Mother'S Shame Into Pride. But I Found A Mad-Dog 
   Cry Raised against Me. And This Professedly Christian Town Has Fairly 
   Hunted me Back To This Prison." 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Sighed deeply, But After A Moment Said, "I Do Not Excuse The 
   Christian Town, Neither Can I Excuse You." 
     
     
     
   "You Too, Then, Blame Me, And Side Against Me." 
     
     
     
   "No, Egbert, I Side With You, And Yet I Blame You Deeply; But I Pity You 
   More." 
     
     
     
   He Rose, And Paced the Cell With His Old, Restless Steps. "It'S No Use," 
   He Said; "The World Says, 'Go To The Devil,' And Gives Me No Chance To 
   Do Otherwise." 
     
     
     
   "Do You Regard The World--Whatever You May Mean By The Phrase--As Your 
   Friend?" 
     
     
     
   "Friend!" He Repeated, With Bitter Emphasis. 
     
     
     
   "Why, Then, Do You Take Its Advice? I Did Not Come Here To Tell You To 
   Go To Perdition." 
     
     
     
   "But If The World Sets Its Face Against Me Like A Flint, What Is There 
   For Me To Do But To Remain In prison Or Hide In a Desert, Unless I Do 
   What I Had Purposed, Defy It And Strike Back, Though It Be Only As A 
   Worm That Tries To Sting The Foot That Crushes It." 
     
     
     
   "Egbert, If You Should Die, The World Would Forget That You Had Ever 
   Existed, In a Few Days." 
     
     
     
   "Certainly. It Would Give Me Merely A Passing Thought As Of A Nuisance 
   That Had Been Abated." 
     
     
     
   "Well, Then, Would It Not Be Wise To Forget The World For A Little 
   While? You Are Shut Away From It For The Present, And It Cannot Molest 
   You. In the Meantime You Can Settle Some Very Important Personal 
   Questions. The World Has Power Over Your Fate Only As You Give It Power. 
   You Need not Lie Like A Helpless Worm In its Path, Waiting To Be 
   Crushed. Get Up Like A Man, And Take Care Of Yourself. The World May Let 
   You Starve, But It Cannot Prevent You From Becoming Good And True And 
   Manly; If You Do Become So, However, Rest Assured the World Will 
   Eventually Find A Place For You, And, Perhaps, An Honored place. But Be 
   That As It May, A Good Christian Man Is Sustained by Something Far More 
   Substantial Than The World'S Breath." 
     
     
     
   Out Of Respect For Mrs. Arnot, Haldane Was Silent. He Supposed that Her 
   Proposed remedy For His Desperate Troubles Was That He Should "Become A 
   Christian," And To This Phrase He Had Learned to Give Only The Most 
   Conventional Meaning. 
     
     
     
   "Becoming a Christian," In his Estimation, Was The Making Of Certain 
   Professions, Going Through Peculiar And Abnormal Experiences, And 
   Joining a Church, The Object Of All This Being To Escape A "Wrath To 
   Come" In the Indefinite Future. To Begin With, He Had Not The Slightest 
   Idea How To Set In motion These Spiritual Evolutions, Had He Desired 
   Them; And To His Intense And Practical Nature The Whole Subject Was As 
   Unattractive As A Library Of Musty And Scholastic Books. He Wanted some 
   Remedy That Applied to This World, And Would Help Him Now. He Did Not 
   Associate Mrs. Arnot'S Action With Christian Principle, But Believed it 
   To Be Due To The Peculiar And Natural Kindness Of Her Heart. Christians 
   In General Had Not Troubled themselves About Him, And, As Far As He 
   Could Judge, Had Turned as Coldly From Him As Had Others. His Mother Had 
   Always Been Regarded as An Eminently Religious Woman, And Yet He Knew 
   That She Was Morbidly Sensitive To The World'S Opinion And Society'S 
   Verdict. 
     
     
     
   From Childhood He Had Associated religion With Numerous Sunday 
   Restraints And The Immaculate Mourning-Dress Which Seemed chiefly To 
   Occupy His Mother'S Thoughts During The Hour Preceding Service. He Had 
   No Conception Of A Faith That Could Be To Him What The Master'S Strong 
   Sustaining Hand Was To The Disciple Who Suddenly Found Himself Sinking 
   In A Stormy Sea. 
     
     
     
   It Is Not Strange That The Distressed in body Or Mind Turn Away From A 
   Religion Of Dreary Formalities And Vague, Uncomprehended mental 
   Processes. Instant And Practical Help Is What Is Craved; And Just Such 
   Help Christ Ever Gave When He Came To Manifest God'S Will And Ways To 
   Men. By Whose Authority Do Some Religious Teachers Now Lead The 
   Suffering Through Such A Round-About, Intricate, Or Arid Path Of Things 
   To Be Done And Doctrines To Be Accepted before Bringing Them To Christ? 
     
     
     
   But When A Mind Has Become Mystified with Preconceived ideas And 
   Prejudices, It Is No Easy Task To Reveal To It The Truth, However 
   Simple. Mrs. Arnot Had Come Into The Light But Slowly Herself, And She 
   Had Passed through Too Many Deep And Prolonged spiritual Experiences To 
   Hope For Any Immediate And Radical Change In haldane. Indeed, She Was In 
   Great Doubt Whether He Would Ever Receive The Faithful Words She 
   Proposed speaking To Him; And She Fully Believed that Anything He 
   Attempted in his Own Strength Would Again End In disheartening Failure. 
     
     
     
   "Egbert," She Said Gently, But Very Gravely, "Have You Fully Settled it 
   In Your Own Mind That I Am Your Friend And Wish You Well?" 
     
     
     
   "How Can I Believe Otherwise, Since You Are Here, And Speaking To Me As 
   You Do?" 
     
     
     
   "Well, I Am Going To Test Your Faith In me And My Kindness. I Am Going 
   To Speak Plainly, And Perhaps You May Think Even Harshly. You Are Very 
   Sick, And If I Am To Be Your Physician I Must Give You Some Sharp, 
   Decisive Treatment. Will You Remember Through It All That My Only Motive 
   Is To Make You Well?" 
     
     
     
   "I Will Try To." 
     
     
     
   "You Have Kept Away From Me A Long Time. Perhaps When Released from This 
   Place You Will Again Avoid Me, And I May Never Have Another Opportunity 
   Like The Present. Now, While You Have A Chance To Think, I Am Going To 
   Ask You To Face The Consequences Of Your Present Course. Within An Hour 
   After Passing Out Of This Cell You Will Have It In your Power To Trample 
   On Your Better Nature And Stupefy Your Mind. But Now, If You Will, You 
   Have A Chance To Use The Powers God Has Given You, And Settle Finally On 
   Your Plan Of Life." 
     
     
     
   "I Have Already Trampled on My Manhood--What Is Worse, I Have Lost It. I 
   Haven'T Any Courage Or Strength Left." 
     
     
     
   "That Can Scarcely Be True Of One But Little More Than Twenty. You Are 
   To Be Here In quietness For The Next Ten Days, I Learn. It Is My 
   Intention, So Far As It Is In my Power To Bring It About, That You 
   Deliberately Face The Consequences Of Your Present Course During This 
   Time. By The Consequences I Do Not Mean What The World Will Think Of 
   You, But, Rather, The Personal Results Of Your Action--What You Must 
   Suffer While You Are In the World, And What You Must Suffer When Far 
   Beyond The World. Egbert, Are You Pleased with Yourself? Are You 
   Satisfied with Yourself?" 
     
     
     
   "I Loathe Myself." 
     
     
     
   "You Can Get Away From The World--You Are Away From It Now, And Soon You 
   Will Be Away From It Finally--But You Can Never Get Away From Yourself. 
   Are You Willing To Face An Eternal Consciousness Of Defeat, Failure, And 
   Personal Baseness?" 
     
     
     
   He Shuddered, But Was Silent. 
     
     
     
   "There Is No Place In god'S Pure Heaven For The Drunkard--The Morally 
   Loathsome And Deformed. Are You Willing To Be Swept Away Among The Chaff 
   And The Thorns, And To Have, Forever, The Shameful And Humiliating 
   Knowledge That You Rightfully Belong To The Rubbish Of The Universe? Are 
   You Willing To Have A Sleepless Memory Tell You In every Torturing Way 
   Possible What A Noble, Happy Man You Might Have Been, But Would Not Be? 
   Your Power To Drown Memory And Conscience, And Stupefy Your Mind, Will 
   Last A Little While Only At Best. How Are You Going To Endure The Time 
   When You Must Remember Everything and Think Of Everything? These Are 
   More Important Questions Than What The World Thinks Of You." 
     
     
     
   "Have You No Pity?" He Groaned. 
     
     
     
   "Yes, My Heart Overflows With Pity. Is It Not Kindness To Tell You 
   Whither Your Path Is Leading? If I Had The Power I Would Lay Hold Of 
   You, And Force You To Come With Me Into The Path Of Life And Safety," 
   She Answered, With A Rush Of Tears To Her Eyes. 
     
     
     
   Her Sympathy Touched him Deeply, And Disarmed her Words Of All Power To 
   Awaken Resentment. 
     
     
     
   "Mrs. Arnot," He Cried, Passionately, "I Did Mean--I Did Try--To Do 
   Better When I Left This Place; But, Between My Own Accursed weakness And 
   The Hard-Hearted world, I Am Here Again, And Almost Without Hope." 
     
     
     
   "Egbert, Though I Did Not Discourage You At The Time, I Had Little Hope 
   Of Your Accomplishing anything When You Left This Cell Some Weeks Since. 
   You Went Out To Regain Your Old Position And The World'S Favor, As One 
   Might Look For A Jewel Or Sum Of Money He Had Lost. You Can Never Gain 
   Even These Advantages In the Way You Proposed, And If You Enjoy Them 
   Again The Cause Will Exist, Not In what You Do Only, But Chiefly In what 
   You _Are_. When You Started out To Win The Favor Of Society, From 
   Which You Had Been Alienated partly By Misfortune, But Largely Through 
   Your Own Wrong Action, There Was No Radical Change In your Character, Or 
   Even In your Controlling Motives. You Regretted the Evil Because Of Its 
   Immediate And Disagreeable Consequences. I Do Not Excuse The World'S 
   Harshness Toward The Erring; But, After All, If You Can Disabuse Your 
   Mind Of Prejudice You Will Admit That Its Action Is Very Natural, And 
   Would, Probably, Have Been Your Own Before You Passed under This Cloud. 
   Consider What The World Knows Of You. It, After All, Is Quite Shrewd In 
   Judging Whom It May Trust And Whom It Is Safe To Keep At Arm'S-Length. 
   Knowing Yourself And Your Own Weaknesses As You Do, Could You Honestly 
   Recommend Yourself To The Confidence Of Any One? With Your Character 
   Unchanged, What Guarantee Have You Against The First Temptation Or Gust 
   Of Passion To Which You Are Subjected? You Had No Lack Of Wounded pride 
   And Ambition When You Started out, But You Will Surely Admit That Such 
   Feelings Are Of Little Value Compared with Christian Integrity And Manly 
   Principle, Which Render Anything Dishonorable Or Base Impossible. 
     
     
     
   "I Do Not Consider The World'S Favor Worth Very Much, But The World'S 
   Respect Is, For It Usually Respects Only What Is Respectable. As You 
   Form A Character That You Can Honestly Respect Yourself, You Will Find 
   Society Gradually Learning To Share In that Esteem. Believe Me, Egbert, 
   If You Ever Regain The World'S Lost Favor, Which You Value So Highly, 
   You Will Discover The First Earnest Of It In your Own Changed and 
   Purified character. The World Will Pay No Heed to Any Amount Of 
   Self-Assertion, And Will Remain Equally Indifferent To Appeals And 
   Upbraidings; But Sooner Or Later It Will Find Out Just What You Are In 
   Your Essential Life, And Will Estimate You Accordingly. I Have Dwelt On 
   This Phase Of Your Misfortune Fully, Because I See That It Weighs So 
   Heavily On Your Heart. Can You Accept My Judgment In the Matter? 
   Remember, I Have Lived nearly Three Times As Long As You Have, And Speak 
   From Ripe Experience. I Have Always Been A Close Observer Of Society, 
   And Am Quite Sure I Am Right. If You Were My Own Son I Would Use The 
   Same Words." 
     
     
     
   "Mrs. Arnot," He Replied slowly, With Contracted brow, "You Are Giving 
   Me Much To Think About. I Fear I Have Been As Stupid As I Have Been Bad. 
   My Whole Life Seems One Wretched blunder." 
     
     
     
   "Ah, If You Will Only _Think_, I Shall Have Strong Hopes Of You. But In 
   Measuring These Questions Do Not Use The Inch Rule Of Time And Earth 
   Only. As I Have Said Before, Remember You Will Soon Have Done With 
   Earth Forever, But Never Can You Get Away From God, Nor Be Rid Of 
   Yourself. You Are On Wretched terms With Both, And Will Be, Whatever 
   Happens, Until Your Nature Is Brought Into Harmony With God'S Will. We 
   Are So Made, So Designed in our Every Fibre, That Evil Tortures Us Like 
   A Diseased nerve; And It Always Will Till We Get Rid Of It. Therefore, 
   Egbert, Remember--O That I Could Burn It Into Your Consciousness--The 
   Best That You Can Gain From Your Proposed evil Course Is A Brief Respite 
   In Base And Sensual Stupefaction, Or Equally Artificial And Unmanly 
   Excitement, And Then Endless Waking, Bitter Memories, And Torturing 
   Regret. Face This Truth Now, Before It Is Too Late. Good-By For A Time. 
   I Will Come Again When I Can; Or You Can Send For Me When You Please;" 
   And She Gave Him Her Hand In cordial Pressure. 
     
     
     
   He Did Not Say A Word, But His Face Was Very White, And It Was Evident 
   That Her Faithful Words Had Opened a Prospect That Had Simply Appalled 
   Him. 
     
   
   
   
   Chapter XXIX (How Evil Isolates) 
   If Haldane Had Been Left Alone On An Ice-Floe In the Arctic Ocean He 
   Could Scarcely Have Felt Worse Than He Did During The Remainder Of The 
   Day After Mrs. Arnot'S Departure. A Dreary And Increasing Sense Of 
   Isolation Oppressed him. The Words Of His Visitor, "What Have You To Do 
   With The World?" And "If You Were Dead It Would Forget You In a Few 
   Days," Repeated themselves Over And Over Again. His Vindictive Feeling 
   Against Society Died out In the Consciousness Of His Weakness And 
   Insignificance. What Is The Use Of One'S Smiting a Mountain With His 
   Fist? Only The Puny Hand Feels The Blow. The World Became, Under Mrs. 
   Arnot'S Words, Too Large And Vague A Generality Even To Be Hated. 
     
     
     
   In Order To Be A Misanthrope One Must Also Be An Egotist, Dwarfing The 
   Objects Of His Spite, And Exaggerating The Small Atom That Has Arrayed 
   Itself Against The Universe. It Is A Species Of Insanity, Wherein A Mind 
   Has Lost Perception Of The Correct Relationship Between Different 
   Existences. The Poor Hypochondriac Who Imagined himself A Mountain Was A 
   Living Satire On Many Of His Fellow-Creatures, Who Differ Only In being 
   Able To Keep Similar Delusions To Themselves. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot'S Plain, Honest, Yet Kindly Words Had Thrown Down The Walls 
   Of Prejudice, And Haldane'S Mind Lay Open To The Truth. As Has Been 
   Said, His First Impression Was A Strange And Miserable Sense Of 
   Loneliness. He Saw What A Slender Hold He Had Upon The Rest Of Humanity. 
   The Majority Knew Nothing Of Him, While, With Few Exceptions, Those Who 
   Were Aware Of His Existence Despised and Detested him, And Would Breathe 
   More Freely If Assured of His Death. He Instinctively Felt That The 
   Natural Affections Of His Mother And Sisters Were Borne Down And Almost 
   Overwhelmed by His Course And Character. If They Had Any Visitors In the 
   Seclusion To Which His Disgrace Had Driven Them, His Name Would Be 
   Avoided with Morbid Sensitiveness, And Yet All Would Be As Painfully 
   Conscious Of Him As If He Were A Corpse In the Room, Which By Some 
   Monstrous Necessity Could Not Be Buried. While They Might Shed natural 
   Tears, He Was Not Sure But That Deep In their Hearts Would Come A Sense 
   Of Relief Should They Hear That He Was Dead, And So Could Not Deepen The 
   Stain He Had Already Given To A Name Once So Respectable. He Knew That 
   His Indifference And Overbearing Manner Toward His Sisters Had Alienated 
   Them From Him; While In respect To Mrs. Haldane, Her Aristocratic 
   Conventionality, The Most Decided trait Of Her Character, Would Always 
   Be In sharp Contest With Her Strong Mother-Love, And Thus He Would Ever 
   Be Only A Source Of Disquiet And Wretchedness Whether Present Or Absent. 
   In View Of The Discordant Elements And Relations Now Existing, There Was 
   Not A Place On Earth Less Attractive Than His Own Home. 
     
     
     
   It May At First Seem A Contradiction To Say That The Thought Of Mrs. 
   Arnot Gave Him A Drearier Sense Of Isolation Than The Memory Of All 
   Else. In her Goodness She Seemed to Belong To A Totally Different World 
   From Himself And People In general. He Had Nothing In common With Her. 
   She Seemed to Come To Him Almost Literally As An Angel Of Mercy, And 
   From An Infinite Distance, And Her Visits Must, Of Necessity, Be Like 
   Those Of The Angels, Few And Far Between, And, In view Of His Character, 
   Must Soon Cease. He Shrank From Her Purity And Nobility Even While Drawn 
   Toward Her By Her Sympathy. He Instinctively Felt That In all Her Deep 
   Commiseration Of Him She Could Not For A Moment Tolerate The Debasing 
   Evil Of His Nature, And That This Evil, Retained, Would Speedily And 
   Inevitably Separate Them Forever. Could He Be Rid Of It? He Did Not 
   Know. He Could Not Then See How. In his Weakness And Despondency It 
   Seemed inwrought With Every Fibre Of His Being, And An Essential Part Of 
   Himself. As For Laura, She Was Like A Bright Star That Had Set, And Was 
   No Longer Above His Dim Horizon. 
     
     
     
   As He Felt Himself Thus Losing His Hold On The Companionship And 
   Remembrance Of Others, He Was Thrown Back Upon Himself, And This Led him 
   To Feel With A Sort Of Dreary Foreboding That It Would Be A Horrible 
   Thing Thus To Be Chained forever To A Self Toward Which The Higher 
   Faculties Of His Soul Must Ever Cherish Only Hatred and Loathing. Even 
   Now He Hated himself--Nay, More, He Was Enraged with Himself--In View Of 
   The Folly Of Which He Had Been Capable. What Could Be Worse Than The 
   Endless Companionship Of The Base Nature Which Had Already Dragged him 
   Down So Low? 
     
     
     
   As The Hours Passed, The Weight Upon His Heart Grew Heavier, And The 
   Chill Of Dread More Unendurable. He Saw His Character As Another Might 
   See It. He Saw A Nature To Which, From Infancy, A Wrong Bias Had Been 
   Given, Made Selfish By Indulgence, Imperious And Strong Only In carrying 
   Out Impulses And In gratifying Base Passions, But Weak As Water In 
   Resisting Evil And Thwarting Its Vile Inclinations. The Pride And Hope 
   That Had Sustained him In what He Regarded as The Great Effort Of His 
   Life Were Gone, And He Felt Neither Strength Nor Courage To Attempt 
   Anything Further. He Saw Himself Helpless And Prostrate Before His Fate, 
   And Yet That Fate Was So Terrible That He Shrank From It With Increasing 
   Dread. 
     
     
     
   What Could He Do? Was It Possible To Do Anything? Had He Not Lost His 
   Footing? If A Man Is Caught In the Rapids, Up To A Certain Point His 
   Struggle Against The Tide Is Full Of Hope, But Beyond That Point No 
   Effort Can Avail. Had He Not Been Swept So Far Down Toward The Final 
   Plunge That Grim Despair Were Better Than Frantic But Vain Effort? 
     
     
     
   And Yet He Felt That He Could Not Give Himself Up To The Absolute 
   Mastery Of Evil Without One More Struggle. Was There Any Chance? Was He 
   Capable Of Making The Needful Effort? 
     
     
     
   Thus Hopes And Fears, Bitter Memories And Passionate Regrets, Swept To 
   And Fro Through His Soul Like Stormy Gusts. A Painful Experience And 
   Mrs. Arnot'S Words Were Teaching The Giddy, Thoughtless Young Fellow 
   What Life Meant, And Were Forcing Upon His Attention The Inevitable 
   Questions Connected with It Which Must Be Solved sooner Or Later, And 
   Which Usually Grow More Difficult As The Consideration Of Them Is 
   Delayed, And They Become Complicated. As His Cell Grew Dusky With Its 
   Early Twilight, As He Thought Of Another Long Night Whose Darkness Would 
   Be Light Compared with The Shadow Brooding On His Prospects, His Courage 
   And Endurance Gave Way. 
     
     
     
   With Something Of The Feeling Of A Terror-Stricken Child He Called the 
   Under-Sheriff, And Asked for Writing Materials. With A Pencil He Wrote 
   Hastily: 
     
     
     
   "Mrs. Arnot--I Entreat You To Visit Me Once More To-Day. Your Words Have 
   Left Me In torture. I Cannot Face The Consequences And Yet See No Way Of 
   Escape. It Would Be Very Cruel To Leave Me To My Despairing Thoughts For 
   Another Night, And You Are Not Cruel." 
     
     
     
   In Despatching The Missive He Said, "I Can Promise That If This Note Is 
   Delivered to Mrs. Arnot At Once, The Bearer Shall Be Well Paid." 
     
     
     
   Moments Seemed hours While He Waited for An Answer. Suppose The Letter 
   Was Not Delivered--Suppose Mrs. Arnot Was Absent. A Hundred miserable 
   Conjectures Flitted through His Mind; But His Confidence In his Friend 
   Was Such That Even His Morbid Fear Did Not Suggest That She Would Not 
   Come. 
     
     
     
   The Lady Was At The Dinner-Table When The Note Was Handed to Her, And 
   After Reading It She Rose Hastily And Excused herself. 
     
     
     
   "Where Are You Going?" Asked her Husband Sharply. 
     
     
     
   "A Person In trouble Has Sent For Me." 
     
     
     
   "Well, Unless The _Person_ Is In the Midst Of A Surgical Operation, 
   He, She, Or It, Whichever This Person May Be, Can Wait Till You Finish 
   Your Dinner." 
     
     
     
   "I Am Going To Visit Egbert Haldane," Said Mrs. Arnot Quietly. "Jane, 
   Please Tell Michael To Come Round With The Carriage Immediately." 
     
     
     
   "You Visit The City Prison At This Hour! Now I Protest. The Young Rake 
   Probably Has The Delirium Tremens. Send Our Physician Rather, If Some 
   One Must Go, Though Leaving Him To The Jailer And A Strait-Jacket Would 
   Be Better Still." 
     
     
     
   "Please Excuse Me," Answered his Wife, With Her Hand On The Door-Knob; 
   "You Forget My Relations To Mrs. Haldane; Her Son Has Sent For Me." 
     
     
     
   "'Her Relations To Mrs. Haldane!' As If She Were Not Always At The Beck 
   And Call Of Every Beggar And Criminal In town! I Do Wish I Had A Wife 
   Who Was Too Much Of A Lady To Have Anything To Do With This Low Scum." 
     
     
     
   A Few Moments Later Mr. Arnot Broke Out Anew With Muttered complaint And 
   Invective, As He Heard The Carriage Driven Rapidly Away. 
     
     
     
   As By The Flickering Light Of A Dip Candle Mrs. Arnot Saw Haldane'S 
   Pale, Haggard Face, She Did Not Regret That She Had Come At Once, For A 
   Glance Gave To Her The Evidence Of A Human Soul In its Extremity. 
     
     
     
   In Facing These Deep Questions Of Life, Some Regard Themselves As Brave 
   Or Philosophical. Perhaps It Were Nearer The Truth To Say They Are 
   Stolid, And Are Staring at That Which They Do Not Understand And Cannot 
   Yet Realize. Where In history Do We Read--Who From A Ripe Experience Can 
   Give--An Instance Of A Happy Life Developing Under The Deepening Shadow 
   Of Evil? Suppose One Has Seen High Types Of Character And Happiness, And 
   Was Capable Of Appreciating Them, But Finds That He Has Cherished a 
   Sottish, Beastly Nature So Long That It Has Become His Master, Promising 
   To Hold Him In thraldom Ever Afterward;--Can There Be A More Wretched 
   Form Of Captivity? The Ogre Of A Debased nature Drags The Soul Away From 
   Light And Happiness--From All Who Are Good And Pure--To The Hideous 
   Solitude Of Self And Memory. 
     
     
     
   There Are Those Who Will Be Incredulous And Even Resentful In view Of 
   This Picture, But It Will Not Be The First Time That Facts Have Been 
   Quarrelled with. It Is _True_ That Many Are Writhing and Groaning 
   In This Cruel Bondage, Mastered and Held Captive By Some Debasing 
   Appetite Or Passion, Perhaps By Many. Sometimes, With A Bitter, 
   Despairing Sorrow, Of Which Superficial Observers Of Life Can Have No 
   Idea, They Speak Of These Horrid Chains; Sometimes They Tug At Them 
   Almost Frantically. A Few Escape, But More Are Dragged down And 
   Away--Away From Honorable Companionships And Friendships; Away From 
   Places Of Trust, From Walks Of Usefulness And Safety; Away From Parents, 
   From Wife And Children, Until The Awful Isolation Is Complete, And The 
   Guilty Soul Finds Itself Alone With The Sin That Mastered it, Conscious 
   That God Only Will Ever See And Remember. Human Friends Will 
   Forget--They Must Forget In order To Obtain Relief From An Object That 
   Has Become Morally Too Unsightly To Be Looked upon; And In mercy They 
   Are So Created that They Can Forget, Though It May Be Long Before It Is 
   Possible. 
     
     
     
   There Are People Who Scout This Awful Mystery Of Evil. They Have 
   Beautiful Little Theories Of Their Own, Which They Have Spun In the 
   Seclusion Of Their Studies. They Keep Carefully Within Their Shady, 
   Flower-Bordered walks, And Ignore The Existence Of The World'S Dusty 
   Highways, In which So Many Are Fainting and Being Trampled upon. What 
   They Do Not See Does Not Exist. What They Do Not Believe Is Not True. 
   They Cannot Condemn Too Severely The Lack Of Artistic Taste And Liberal 
   Culture Which Leads Any One To Regard Sin As Other Than A Theologian'S 
   Phrase Or A Piquant Element In human Life, Which Otherwise Would Be 
   Rather Dull And Flavorless. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Was Not A Theorist, Nor Was She The Elegant Lady, Wholly 
   Given To The Aesthetic Culture That Her Husband Desired; She Was A 
   Large-Hearted woman, And She Understood Human Life And Its Emergencies 
   Sufficiently Well To Tremble With Apprehension When She Saw The Face Of 
   Egbert Haldane, For She Felt That A Deathless Soul In its Crisis--Its 
   Deepest Spiritual Need--Was Looking To Her Solely For Help. 
     
   
   
   
   Chapter XXX (Ideal Knighthood) 
   Mrs. Arnot Again Came Directly To The Youth And Put Her Hand On His 
   Shoulder With Motherly Freedom And Kindliness. Beyond Even The Word Of 
   Sympathy Is The Touch Of Sympathy, And It Often Conveys To The Fainting 
   Heart A Subtle Power To Hope And Trust Again Which The Materialist 
   Cannot Explain. The Divine Physician Often Touched those Whom He Healed. 
   He Laid His Hand Fearlessly On The Leper From Whom All Shrank With 
   Inexpressible Dread. The Moral Leper Who Trembled under Mrs. Arnot'S 
   Hand Felt That He Was Not Utterly Lost And Beyond The Pale Of Hope, If 
   One So Good And Pure Could Still Touch Him; And There Came A Hope, Like 
   A Ray Struggling Through Thick Darkness, That The Hand That Caressed 
   Might Rescue Him. 
     
     
     
   "Egbert," Said The Lady Gravely, "Tell Me What I Can Do For You." 
     
     
     
   "I Cannot Face The Consequences," He Replied in a Low, Shuddering Tone. 
     
     
     
   "And Do You Only Dread The Consequences?" Mrs. Arnot Asked sadly. "Do 
   You Not Think Of The Evil Which Is The Cause Of Your Trouble?" 
     
     
     
   "I Can Scarcely Separate The Sin From The Suffering. My Mind Is 
   Confused, And I Am Overwhelmed with Fear And Loneliness. All Who Are 
   Good And All That Is Good Seemed to Be Slipping From Me, And I Should 
   Soon Be Left Only To My Miserable Self. O, Mrs. Arnot, No Doubt I Seem 
   To You Like A Weak, Guilty Coward. I Seem So To Myself. If It Were 
   Danger Or Difficulty I Had To Face I Would Not Fear; But This Slow, 
   Inevitable, Increasing Pressure Of A Horrible Fate, This Seeing Clearly 
   That Evil Cuts Me Off From Hope And All Happiness, And Yet To Feel That 
   I Cannot Escape From It--That I Am Too Weak To Break My Chains--It Is 
   More Than I Can Endure. I Fear That I Should Have Gone Mad If You Had 
   Not Come. Do You Think There Is Any Chance For Me? I Feel As If I Had 
   Lost My Manhood." 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Took The Chair Which The Sheriff Had Brought On Her Entrance, 
   And Said Quietly, "Perhaps You Have, Egbert; Many A Man Has Lost What 
   You Mean By That Term." 
     
     
     
   "You Speak Of It With A Composure That I Can Scarcely Understand," Said 
   Haldane, With A Quick Glance Of Inquiry. "It Seems To Me An Irreparable 
   Loss." 
     
     
     
   "It Does Not Seem So Great A Loss To Me," Replied mrs. Arnot Gently. "As 
   Your Physician You Must Let Me Speak Plainly Again. It Seems To Me That 
   What You Term Your Manhood Was Composed largely Of Pride, Conceit, 
   Ignorance Of Yourself, And Inexperience Of The World. You Were Liable To 
   Lose It At Any Time, Just As You Did, Partly Through Your Own Folly And 
   Partly Through The Wrong Of Others. You Know, Egbert, That I Have Always 
   Been Interested in young Men, And What Many Of Them Regard As Their 
   Manhood Is Not Of Much Value To Themselves Or Any One Else." 
     
     
     
   "Is It Nothing To Be So Weak, Disheartened, And Debased that You Lie 
   Prostrate In the Mire Of Your Own Evil Nature, As It Were, And With No 
   Power To Rise?" He Asked bitterly. 
     
     
     
   "That Is Sad Indeed." 
     
     
     
   "Well, That'S Just My Condition--Or I Fear It Is, Though Your Coming Has 
   Brought A Gleam Of Hope. Mrs. Arnot," He Continued passionately, "I 
   Don'T Know How To Be Different; I Don'T Feel Capable Of Making any 
   Persistent And Successful Effort. I Feel That I Have Lost All Moral 
   Force And Courage. The Odds Are Too Great. I Can'T Get Up Again." 
     
     
     
   "Perhaps You Cannot, Egbert," Said Mrs. Arnot Very Gravely; "It Would 
   Seem That Some Never Do--" 
     
     
     
   He Buried his Face In his Hands And Groaned. 
     
     
     
   "You Have, Indeed, A Difficult Problem To Solve, And, Looking at It From 
   Your Point Of View, I Do Not Wonder That It Seems Impossible." 
     
     
     
   "Cannot You, Then, Give Me Any Hope?" 
     
     
     
   "No, Egbert; _I_ Cannot. It Is Not In my Power To Make You A Good 
   Man. You Know That I Would Do So If I Could." 
     
     
     
   "Would To God I Had Never Lived, Then," He Exclaimed, Desperately. 
     
     
     
   "Can You Offer God No Better Prayer Than That? Will You Try To Be Calm, 
   And Listen Patiently To Me For A Few Moments? When I Said _I_ Could 
   Not Give You Hope--_I_ Could Not Make You A Good Man--I Expressed 
   One Of My Strongest Convictions. But I Have Not Said, Egbert, That There 
   Is No Hope, No Chance, For You. On The Contrary, There Is Abundant 
   Hope--Yes, Absolute Certainty--Of Your Achieving a Noble Character, If 
   You Will Set About It In the Right Way. But As One Of The First And 
   Indispensable Conditions Of Success, I Wish You To Realize That The Task 
   Is Too Great For You Alone; Too Great With My Help; Too Great If The 
   World That Seems So Hostile Should Unite To Help You; And Yet Neither I 
   Nor All The World Could Prevent Your Success If You Went To The Right 
   And True Source Of Help. Why Have You Forgotten God In your Emergency? 
   Why Are You Looking Solely To Yourself And To Another Weak 
   Fellow-Creature Like Yourself?" 
     
     
     
   "You Are In no Respect Like Me, Mrs. Arnot, And It Seems Profanation 
   Even To Suggest The Thought." 
     
     
     
   "I Have The Same Nature. I Struggled vainly And Almost Hopelessly 
   Against My Peculiar Weaknesses And Temptations And Sorrows Until I Heard 
   God Saying, 'Come, My Child, Let Us Work Together. It Is My Will You 
   Should Do All You Can Yourself, And What You Cannot Do I Will Do For 
   You.' Since That Time I Have Often Had To Struggle Hard, But Never 
   Vainly. There Have Been Seasons When My Burdens Grew So Heavy That I Was 
   Ready To Faint; But After Appealing To My Heavenly Father, As A Little 
   Child Might Cry For Help, The Crushing Weight Would Pass Away, And I 
   Became Able To Go On My Way Relieved and Hopeful." 
     
     
     
   "I Cannot Understand It," Said The Young Man, Looking at Her In deep 
   Perplexity. 
     
     
     
   "That Does Not Prevent Its Being True. The Most Skilful Physician Cannot 
   Explain Why Certain Beneficial Effects Follow The Use Of Certain 
   Remedies; But When These Effects Become An Established fact Of 
   Experience It Were Sensible To Employ The Remedy As Soon As Possible. 
   One Might Suffer A Great Deal, And, Perhaps, Perish, While Asking 
   Questions And Waiting For Answers. To My Mind The Explanation Is Very 
   Simple. God Is Our Creator, And Calls Himself Our Father. It Would Be 
   Natural On General Principles That He Should Take A Deep Interest In us; 
   But He Assures Us Of The Profoundest Love, Employing Our Tenderest 
   Earthly Ties To Explain How He Feels Toward Us. What Is More Natural 
   Than For A Father To Help A Child? What Is More Certain, Also, Than That 
   A Wise Father Would Teach A Child To Do All Within His Ability To Help 
   Himself, And So Develop The Powers With Which He Is Endowed? Only 
   Infants Are Supposed to Be Perfectly Helpless." 
     
     
     
   "It Would Seem That What You Say Ought To Be True, And Yet I Have Always 
   Half-Feared god--That Is, When I Thought About Him At All. I Have Been 
   Taught That He Was To Be Served; That He Was A Jealous God; That He Was 
   Angry With The Sinful, And That The Prayers Of The Wicked were An 
   Abomination. I Am Sure The Bible Says The Latter Is True, Or Something 
   Like It." 
     
     
     
   "It Is True. If You Set Your Heart On Some Evil Course, Or Are 
   Deliberating Some Dishonesty Or Meanness, Be Careful How You Make Long 
   Or Short Prayers To God While Wilfully Persisting In your Sin. When A 
   Man Is Robbing and Cheating, Though In the Most Legal Manner--When He Is 
   Gratifying Lust, Hate, Or Appetite, And _Intends_ To _Continue_ Doing 
   So--The Less Praying He Does The Better. An Avowed infidel Is More 
   Acceptable. But The Sweetest Music That Reaches Heaven Is The Honest Cry 
   For Help To Forsake Sin; And The More Sinful The Heart That Thus Cries 
   Out For Deliverance The More Welcome The Appeal. Let Me Illustrate What 
   I Mean By Your Own Case. If You Should Go Out From This Prison In the 
   Same Spirit That You Did Once Before, Seeking To Gain Position And Favor 
   Only For The Purpose Of Gratifying Your Own Pride--Only That Self Might 
   Be Advantaged, Without Any Generous And Disinterested regard For Others, 
   Without Any Recognition Of The Sacred duties You Owe To God, And Content 
   With A Selfish, Narrow, Impure Soul--If, With Such A Disposition, You 
   Should Commence Asking For God'S Help As A Means To These Petty, 
   Miserable Ends, Your Prayers Would, And With Good Reason, Be An 
   Abomination To Him. But If You Had Sunk To Far Lower Depths Than Those 
   In Which You Now Find Yourself, And Should Cry Out For Purity, For The 
   Sonship Of A Regenerated character, Your Voice Would Not Only Reach Your 
   Divine Father'S Ear, But His Heart, Which Would Yearn Toward You With A 
   Tender Commiseration That I Could Not Feel Were You My Only Son." 
     
     
     
   The Sincerity And Earnestness Of Mrs. Arnot'S Words Were Attested by Her 
   Fast-Gathering Tears. 
     
     
     
   "This Is All New To Me. But If God Is So Kindly Disposed toward Us--So 
   Ready To Help--Why Does He Not Reveal Himself In this Light More 
   Clearly? Why Are We So Slow And Long In finding Him Out? Until You Came 
   He Seemed against Me." 
     
     
     
   "We Will Not Discuss This Matter In general. Take Your Own Experience 
   Again. Perhaps It Has Been Your Fault, Not God'S, That You Misunderstood 
   Him. He Tries To Show How He Feels Toward Us In many Ways, Chiefly By 
   His Written Word, By What He Leads His People To Do For Us, And By His 
   Great Mind Acting Directly On Ours. Has Not The Bible Been Within Your 
   Reach? Have None Of God'S Servants Tried to Advise And Help You? I Think 
   You Must Have Seen Some Such Effort On My Part When You Were An Inmate 
   Of My Home. I Am Here This Evening as God'S Messenger To You. All The 
   Hope I Have Of You Is Inspired by His Disposition And Power To Help You. 
   You May Continue To Stand Aloof From Him, Declining His Aid, Just As You 
   Avoided your Mother, And Myself All These Weeks When We Were Longing To 
   Help You; But If You Sink, Yours Will Be The Fate Of One Who Refuses To 
   Grasp The Strong Hand That Is And Ever Has Been Seeking Yours." 
     
     
     
   "Mrs. Arnot," Said Haldane Thoughtfully, "If All You Say Is True There 
   Is Hope For Me--There Is Hope For Every One." 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Was Silent For A Moment, And Then Said, With Seeming 
   Abruptness: 
     
     
     
   "You Have Read Of The Ancient Knights And Their Deeds, Have You Not?" 
     
     
     
   "Yes," Was The Wondering Reply, "But The Subject Seems Very Remote." 
     
     
     
   "You Are In a Position To Realize My Very Ideal Of Knightly Endeavor." 
     
     
     
   "I, Mrs. Arnot! What Can You Mean?" 
     
     
     
   "Whether I Am Right Or Wrong I Can Soon Explain What I Mean. The Ancient 
   Knight Set His Lance In rest Against What Seemed to Him The Wrongs And 
   Evils Of The World. In theory He Was To Be Without Fear And Without 
   Reproach--As Pure As The White Cross Upon His Mantle. But In fact The 
   Average Knight Was Very Human. His White Cross Was Soon Soiled by 
   Foreign Travel, But Too Often Not Before His Soul Was Stained with 
   Questionable Deeds. It Was A Life Of Adventure And Excitement, And 
   Abundantly Gratifying To Pride And Ambition. While It Could Be Idealized 
   Into A Noble Calling, It Too Often Ended in a Lawless, Capricious Career 
   Of Self-Indulgence. The Cross On The Mantle Symbolized the Heavy Blows 
   And Sorrows Inflicted on Those Who Had The Misfortune To Differ In 
   Opinion, Faith, Or Race With The Knight, The Steel Of Whose Armor 
   Seemingly Got Into His Heart, Rather Than Any Personal Self-Denial. 
   Without Any Moral Change On His Own Part, Or Being any Way Better Than 
   They, He Could Fight The Infidel Or Those Whose Views Differed from His 
   With Great Zest. 
     
     
     
   "But The Man Who Will Engage Successfully In a Crusade Against The Evil 
   Of His Own Heart Must Have The Spirit Of A True Knight, For He Attempts 
   The Most Difficult And Heroic Task Within The Limits Of Human Endeavor. 
   It Is Comparatively Easy To Run A Tilt Against A Fellow-Mortal, Or An 
   External Evil; But To Set Our Lance In rest Against A Cherished sin, A 
   Habit That Has Become Our Second Nature, And Remorselessly Ride It 
   Down--To Grapple With A Secret Fault In the Solitude Of Our Own Soul, 
   With No Applauding Hands To Spur Us On, And Fight And Wrestle For Weary 
   Months--Years Perhaps--This Does Require Heroism Of The Highest Order, 
   And The Man Who Can Do It Is My Ideal Knight. 
     
     
     
   "You Inveigh Against The World, Egbert, As If It Were A Harsh And 
   Remorseless Foe, Bent On Crushing You; But You Have Far More Dangerous 
   Enemies Lurking In your Own Heart. If You Could Thoroughly Subdue These 
   With God'S Aid, You Would At The Same Time Overcome The World, Or Find 
   Yourself So Independent Of It As Scarcely To Care Whether Or No It Gave 
   You Its Favor. When You Left This Prison Before, You Sought In the Wrong 
   Way To Win The Position You Had Lost. You Were Very Proud Of Your Former 
   Standing; But You Had Very Little Occasion To Be, For You Had Inherited 
   It. The Deeds Of Others, Not Your Own, Had Won It For You. If You Had 
   Realized it, It Gave You A Great Vantage, But That Was All. If You Had 
   Been Content To Have Remained a Conceited, Commonplace Man, Versed only 
   In The Fashionable Jargon And Follies Of The Hour, And Basing Your 
   Claims On The Wealth Which You Had Shown Neither The Ability Nor 
   Industry To Win, You Would Never Have Had My Respect. 
     
     
     
   "Well, To Tell The Truth, Such Shadows Of Men Are Respected by No One, 
   Not Even Themselves, Even Though They May Commit No Deed which Society 
   Condemns, But If In this Prison Cell You Set Your Face Like A Flint 
   Against The Weaknesses And Grave Faults Of Your Nature Which Have 
   Brought You Here, And Which Would Have Made You Anything But An 
   Admirable Man Had You Retained your Old Position--If, With God As Your 
   Fast Ally, You Wage Unrelenting and Successful War Against All That Is 
   Unworthy Of A Christian Manhood--I Will Not Only Respect, I Will Honor 
   You. You Will Be One Of My Ideal Knights." 
     
     
     
   As Mrs. Arnot Spoke, Haldane'S Eyes Kindled, And His Drooping Manner Was 
   Exchanged for An Aspect That Indicated reviving Hope And Courage. 
     
     
     
   "I Have Lost Faith In myself," He Said Slowly; "And As Yet I Have No 
   Faith In god; But After What You Have Said I Do Not Fear Him As I Did. I 
   Have Faith In you, However, Mrs. Arnot, And I Would Rather Gain Your 
   Respect Than That Of All The World. You Know Me Now Better Than Any One 
   Else. Do You Truly Believe That I Could Succeed in such A Struggle?" 
     
     
     
   "Without Faith In god You Cannot. Even The Ancient Knight, Whose Success 
   Depended so Much On The Skill And Strength Of His Arm, And The Temper Of 
   His Weapons And Armor, Was Supposed to Spend Hours In prayer Before 
   Attempting any Great Thing. But With God'S Help Daily Sought And 
   Obtained, You Cannot Fail. You Can Achieve That Which The World Cannot 
   Take From You--Which Will Be A Priceless Possession After The World Has 
   Forgotten You And You It--A Noble Character." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Was Silent Several Moments, Then, Drawing a Long Breath, He 
   Said, Slowly And Humbly: 
     
     
     
   "How I Am To Do This I Do Not Yet Understand; But If You Will Guide Me, 
   I Will Attempt It." 
     
     
     
   "This Book Will Guide You, Egbert," Said Mrs. Arnot, Placing Her Bible 
   In His Hands. "God Himself Will Guide You If You Ask Sincerely. 
   Good-Night." And She Gave Him Such A Warm And Friendly Grasp Of The Hand 
   As To Prove That Evil Had Not Yet Wholly Isolated him From The Pure And 
   Good. 
     
   
   
   
   Chapter XXXI (The Low Starting-Point) 
   On The Afternoon Of The Following Day Mrs. Arnot Again Visited haldane, 
   Bringing Him Several Letters From His Mother Which Had Been Sent In her 
   Care; And She Urged that The Son Should Write At Once In a Way That 
   Would Reassure The Mother'S Heart. 
     
     
     
   In His Better Mood The Young Man'S Thoughts Recurred to His Mother With 
   A Remorseful Tenderness, And He Eagerly Sought Out The Envelope Bearing 
   The Latest Date, And Tore It Open. As He Read, The Pallor And Pain 
   Expressed in his Face Became So Great That Mrs. Arnot Was Much Troubled, 
   Fearing That The Letter Contained evil Tidings. 
     
     
     
   Without A Word He Handed it To Her, And Also Two Inclosed paragraphs Cut 
   From Newspapers. 
     
     
     
   "Do You Think Your Mother Would Wish Me To See It?" Asked mrs. Arnot, 
   Hesitatingly. 
     
     
     
   "I Wish You To See It, And It Contains No Injunctions Of Secrecy. 
   Indeed, She Has Been Taking Some Very Open And Decided steps Which Are 
   Here Indicated." 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Read: 
     
     
     
     
   "My Unnatural Son--Though You Will Not Write Me A Line, You Still Make 
   It Certain That I Shall Hear From You, As The Inclosed clippings From 
   Hillaton Papers May Prove To You. You Have Forfeited all Claim On Both 
   Your Sisters And Myself. Our Lawyer Has Been Here To-Day, And Has Shown 
   Me, What Is Only Too Evident, That Money Would Be A Curse To You--That 
   You Would Squander It And Disgrace Yourself Still More, If Such A Thing 
   Were Possible. As The Property Is Wholly In my Hands, I Shall Arrange It 
   In Such A Way That You Shall Never Have A Chance To Waste It. If You 
   Will Comply With The Following Conditions I Will Supply All That Is 
   Essential To One Of Your Nature And Tastes. I Stipulate That You Leave 
   Hillaton, And Go To Some Quiet Place Where Our Name Is Not Known, And 
   That You There Live So Quietly That I Shall Hear Of No More Disgraceful 
   Acts Like Those Herein Described. I Have Given Up The Hope Of Hearing 
   Anything Good. If You Will Do This I Will Pay Your Board And Grant You A 
   Reasonable Allowance. If You Will Not Do This, You End All Communication 
   Between Us, And We Must Be As Strangers Until You Can Show An Entirely 
   Different Spirit. Yours In bitter Shame And Sorrow, 
     
     
     
   "Emily Haldane." 
     
     
     
     
   The Clippings Were Mr. Shrumpf'S Version Of His Own Swindle, And A 
   Tolerably Correct Account Of The Events Which Led to The Present 
   Imprisonment. 
     
     
     
   "Will You Accept Your Mother'S Offer?" Mrs. Arnot Asked, Anxiously, For 
   She Was Much Troubled as To What Might Be The Effect Of The Unfortunate 
   Letter At This Juncture. 
     
     
     
   "No!" He Replied with Sharp Emphasis. 
     
     
     
   "Egbert, Remember You Have Given Your Mother The Gravest Provocation." 
     
     
     
   "I Also Remember That She Did Her Best To Make Me The Fool I Have Been, 
   And She Might Have A Little More Patience Now. The Truth Is That 
   Mother'S God Was Respectability, And She Will Never Forgive Me For 
   Destroying Her Idol." 
     
     
     
   "Read The Other Letters; There May Be That In them Which Will Be More 
   Reassuring." 
     
     
     
   "No, I Thank You," He Replied, Bitterly; "I Have Had All That I Can 
   Stand For One Day. She Believes The Infernal Lie Which That Scoundrel 
   Shrumpf Tells, And Gives Me No Hearing;" And He Related to Mrs. Arnot 
   The True Version Of The Affair. 
     
     
     
   She Had The Tact To See That His Present Perturbed condition Was Not Her 
   Opportunity, And She Soon After Left Him In a Mood That Promised little 
   Of Good For The Future. 
     
     
     
   But In the Long, Quiet Hours That Followed her Departure His Thoughts 
   Were Busy. However Much He Might Think That Others Were The Cause Of His 
   Unhappy Plight, He Had Seen That He Was Far More To Blame. It Had Been 
   Made Still More Clear That, Even If He Could Shift This Blame Somewhat, 
   He Could Not The Consequences. Mrs. Arnot'S Words Had Given Him A 
   Glimpse Of Light, And Had Revealed a Path, Which, Though Still Vague And 
   Uncertain, Promised to Lead Out Of The Present Labyrinth Of Evil. During 
   The Morning Hours He Had Dared to Hope, And Even To Pray, That He Might 
   Find A Way Of Escape From His Miserable Self And The Wretched condition 
   To Which It Had Brought Him. 
     
     
     
   For A Long Time He Turned the Leaves Of Mrs. Arnot'S Bible, And Here And 
   There A Text Would Flash Out Like A Light Upon The Clouded future, But 
   As A General Thing The Words Had Little Meaning. 
     
     
     
   To His Ardent And Somewhat Imaginative Nature She Had Presented the 
   Struggle Toward A Better Life In the Most Attractive Light. He Was Not 
   Asked to Do Something Which Was Vague And Mystical; He Was Not Exhorted 
   To Emotions And Beliefs Of Which He Was Then Incapable, Nor To Forms And 
   Ceremonies That Were Meaningless To Him, Nor To Professions Equally 
   Hollow. On The Contrary, The Evils, The Defects Of His Own Nature, Were 
   Given An Objective Form, And He Could Almost See Himself, Like A Knight, 
   With Lance In rest, Preparing To Run A Tilt Against The Personal Faults 
   Which Had Done Him Such Injury. The Deeper Philosophy, That His Heart 
   Was The Rank Soil From Which Sprang These Faults, Like Cadmus' Armed 
   Men, Would Come With Fuller Experience. 
     
     
     
   But In a Measure He Had Understood And Had Been Inspired by Mrs. Arnot'S 
   Thought. Although From A Weak Mother'S Indulgence And His Own, From 
   Wasted years And Bad Companionships, His Life Was Wellnigh Spoiled, He 
   Still Had Sufficient Mind To See That To Fight Down The Clamorous 
   Passions Of His Heart Into Subjection Would Be A Grand And Heroic Thing. 
   If From The Yielding Mire Of His Present Self A Noble And Granite-Like 
   Character Could Be Built Up, So Strongly And On Such A Sure Foundation 
   That It Would Stand The Shocks Of Time And Eternity, It Were Worth Every 
   Effort Of Which Human Nature Is Capable. Until Mrs. Arnot Had Spoken Her 
   Wise And Kind, Yet Honest Words, He Had Felt Himself Unable To Stand 
   Erect, Much Less To Enter On A Struggle Which Would Tax The Strongest. 
     
     
     
   But Suppose God Would Deign To Help, Suppose It Was The Divine Purpose 
   And Practice To Supplement The Feeble Efforts Of Those Who, Like 
   Himself, Sought To Ally Their Weakness To His Strength, Might Not The 
   Creator And The Creature, The Father And The Child, Unitedly Achieve 
   What It Were Hopeless To Attempt Unaided? 
     
     
     
   Thoughts Like These More Or Less Distinctly Had Been Thronging His Mind 
   During The Morning, And Though The Path Out Of His Degradation Was 
   Obscure And Uncertain, It Had Seemed the Only Way Of Escape. He Knew 
   That Mrs. Arnot Would Not Consciously Mock Him With Delusive Hopes, And 
   As She Spoke Her Words Seemed to Have The Ring and Echo Of Truth. When 
   The Courage To Attempt Better Things Was Reviving, It Was Sad That He 
   Should Receive The First Disheartening Blow From His Mother. Not That 
   She Purposed any Such Cruel Stroke; But When One Commences Wrong In life 
   One Is Apt To Go On Making Mischief To The End. Poor Mrs. Haldane'S 
   Kindness And Severity Had Always Been Ill-Timed. 
     
     
     
   For Some Hours, As Will Be Seen, The Contents Of The Mother'S Letter 
   Inspired only Resentment And Caused discouragement; But Calmer Thoughts 
   Explained the Letter, And Confirmed mrs. Arnot'S Words, That He Had 
   Given The "Gravest Provocation." 
     
     
     
   At The Same Time The Young Man Instinctively Felt That If He Attempted 
   The Knightly Effort That Mrs. Arnot Had So Earnestly Urged, His Mother 
   Could Not Help Him Much, And Might Be A Hindrance. Her Views Would Be So 
   Conventional, And She Would Be So Impatient Of Any Methods That Were Not 
   In Accordance With Her Ideas Of Respectability, That She Might Imperil 
   Everything Should He Yield To Her Guidance. If, Therefore, He Could 
   Obtain The Means Of Subsistence He Resolved to Remain In hillaton, Where 
   He Could Occasionally See Mrs. Arnot. She Had Been Able To Inspire The 
   Hope Of A Better Life, And She Could Best Teach Him How Such A Life Was 
   Possible. 
     
     
     
   The Next Day Circumstances Prevented mrs. Arnot From Visiting The 
   Prison, And Haldane Employed part Of The Time In writing To His Mother A 
   Letter Of Mingled reproaches And Apologies, Interspersed with Vague 
   Hopes And Promises Of Future Amendment, Ending, However, With The 
   Positive Assurance That He Would Not Leave Hillaton Unless Compelled to 
   Do So By Hunger. 
     
     
     
   To Mrs. Haldane This Letter Was Only An Aggravation Of Former 
   Misconduct, And A Proof Of The Unnatural And Impracticable Character Of 
   Her Son. The Fact That It Was Written From A Prison Was Hideous, To 
   Begin With. That, After All The Pains At Which She Had Been To Teach Him 
   What Was Right, He Could Suggest That She Was In part To Blame For His 
   Course Seemed such Black Ingratitude That His Apologies And 
   Acknowledgments Of Wrong Went For Nothing. She Quite Overlooked the 
   Hope, Expressed here And There, That He Might Lead A Very Different Life 
   In The Future. His Large And Self-Confident Assurances Made Before Had 
   Come To Naught, And She Had Not The Tact To See That He Would Make This 
   Attempt In a Different Spirit. 
     
     
     
   It Was Not By Any Means A Knightly Or Even A Manly Letter That He Wrote 
   To His Mother; It Was As Confused as His Own Chaotic Moral Nature; But 
   If Mrs. Haldane Had Had A Little More Of Mrs. Arnot'S Intuition, And 
   Less Of Prejudice, She Might Have Seen Scattered through It Very Hopeful 
   Indications. But Even Were Such Indications Much More Plain, Her Anger, 
   Caused by His Refusal To Leave Hillaton, And The Belief That He Would 
   Continue To Disgrace Himself And Her, Would Have Blinded her To Them. 
   Under The Influence Of This Anger She Sat Down And Wrote At Once: 
     
     
     
   Since You Cast Off Your Mother For Strangers--Since You Attempt Again 
   What You Have Proved yourself Incapable Of Accomplishing--Since You 
   Prefer To Go Out Of Jail To Be A Vagrant And A Criminal In the Streets, 
   Instead Of Accepting My Offer To Live A Respectable And Secluded life 
   Where Your Shame Is Unknown, I Wash My Hands Of You, And Shall Take 
   Pains To Let It Be Understood That I Am No Longer Responsible For You Or 
   Your Actions. You Must Look To Strangers Solely Until You Can Conform 
   Your Course To The Will Of The One You Have So Greatly Wronged. 
     
     
     
   Haldane Received this Letter On The Morning Of The Day Which Would Again 
   Give Him Freedom. Mrs. Arnot Had Visited him From Time To Time, And Had 
   Been Pleased to Find Him, As A General Thing, In a Better And More 
   Promising Mood. He Had Been Eager To Listen To All That She Had To Say, 
   And He Seemed honestly Bent On Reform. And Yet, While Hopeful, She Was 
   Not At All Sanguine As To His Future. He Occasionally Gave Way To Fits 
   Of Deep Despondency, And Again Was Over-Confident, While The Causes Of 
   These Changes Were Not Very Apparent, And Seemingly Resulted more From 
   Temperament Than Anything Else. She Feared that The Bad Habits Of Long 
   Standing, Combining With His Capricious And Impulsive Nature, Would 
   Speedily Betray Him Into His Old Ways. She Was Sure This Would Be The 
   Case Unless The Strong And Steady Hand Of God Sustained him, And She Had 
   Tried to Make Him Realize The Same Truth. This He Did In a Measure, And 
   Was Exceedingly Distrustful; And Yet He Had Not Been Able To Do Much 
   More Than Hope God Would Help Him--For To Anything Like Trustful 
   Confidence He Was Still A Stranger. 
     
     
     
   The Future Was Very Dark And Uncertain. What He Was To Do, How He Was To 
   Live, He Could Not Foresee. Even The Prison Seemed almost A Refuge From 
   The World, Out Into Which He Would Be Thrown That Day, As One Might Be 
   Cast From A Ship, To Sink Or Swim, As The Case Might Be. 
     
     
     
   While Eager To Receive Counsel And Advice From Mrs. Arnot, He Felt A 
   Peculiar Reluctance To Take Any Pecuniary Assistance, And He Fairly 
   Dreaded to Have Her Offer It; Still, It Might Be All That Would Stand 
   Between Him And Hunger. 
     
     
     
   After Receiving His Mother'S Harsh Reply To His Letter, His Despondency 
   Was Too Great Even For Anger. He Was Ashamed of His Weakness And 
   Discouragement, And Felt That They Were Unmanly, And Yet Was Powerless 
   To Resist The Leaden Depression That Weighed him Down. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Had Promised to Call Just Before His Release, And When She 
   Entered his Cell She At Once Saw That Something Was Amiss. In reply To 
   Her Questioning He Gave Her The Letter Just Received. 
     
     
     
   After Reading It Mrs. Arnot Did Not Speak For Some Time, And Her Face 
   Wore A Sad, Pained look. 
     
     
     
   At Last She Said, "You Both Misunderstand Each Other; But, Egbert, You 
   Have No Right To Cherish Resentment. Your Mother Sincerely Believes Your 
   Course Is All Wrong, And That It Will End Worse Than Before. I Think She 
   Is Mistaken. And Yet Perhaps She Is Right, And It Will Be Easier For You 
   To Commence Your Better And Reformed life In the Seclusion Which She 
   Suggests. I Am Sorry To Say It To You, Egbert, But I Have Not Been Able 
   To Find Any Employment For You Such As You Would Take, Or I Would Be 
   Willing To Have You Accept. Perhaps Providence Points To Submission To 
   Your Mother'S Will." 
     
     
     
   "If So, Then I Lose What Little Faith I Have In providence," He Replied 
   Impetuously. "It Is Here, In this City, That I Have Fallen And Disgraced 
   Myself, And It Is Here I Ought To Redeem Myself, If I Ever Do. Weeks 
   Ago, In pride And Self-Confidence, I Made The Effort, And Failed 
   Miserably, As Might Have Been Expected. Instead Of Being a Gifted and 
   Brilliant Man, As I Supposed, That Had Been Suddenly Brought Under A 
   Cloud As Much Through Misfortune As Fault, I Have Discovered myself To 
   Be A Weak, Commonplace, Illiterate Fellow, Strong Only In bad Passions 
   And Bad Habits. Can I Escape These Passions And Habits By Going 
   Elsewhere? You Have Told Me, In a Way That Excited my Hope, Of God'S 
   Power And Willingness To Help Such As I Am. If He Will Not Help Me Here, 
   He Will Not Anywhere; And If, With His Aid, I Cannot Surmount The 
   Obstacles In my Way Here, What Is God'S Promised help But A Phrase Which 
   Means Nothing, And What Are We But Victims Of Circumstances?" 
     
     
     
   "Are You Not Reaching Conclusions Rather Fast, Egbert? You Forget That I 
   And Myriads Of Others Have Had Proof Of God'S Power And Willingness To 
   Help. If Wide And Varied experience Can Settle Any Fact, This One Has 
   Been Settled. But We Should Ever Remember That We Are Not To Dictate The 
   Terms On Which He Is To Help Us." 
     
     
     
   "I Do Not Mean To Do This," Said Haldane Eagerly, "But I Have A 
   Conviction That I Ought To Remain In hillaton. To Tell You The Truth, 
   Mrs. Arnot, I Am Afraid To Go Elsewhere," He Added in a Low Tone, While 
   Tears Suffused his Eyes. "You Are The Only Friend In the Universe That I 
   Am Sure Cares For Me, Or That I Can Trust Without Misgivings. To Me God 
   Is Yet But Little More Than A Name, And One That Heretofore I Have 
   Either Forgotten Or Feared. You Have Led me To Hope That It Might Be 
   Otherwise Some Day, But It Is Not So Yet, And I Dare Not Go Away Alone 
   Where No One Cares For Me, For I Feel Sure That I Would Give Way To 
   Utter Despondency, And Recklessness Would Follow As A Matter Of Course." 
     
     
     
   "O Egbert," Sighed mrs. Arnot, "How Weak You Are, And How Foolish, In 
   Trusting So Greatly In a Mere Fellow-Creature." 
     
     
     
   "Yes, Mrs. Arnot, 'Weak And Foolish.' Those Two Words Now Seem To Sum Up 
   My Whole Life And All There Is Of Me." 
     
     
     
   "And Yet," She Added earnestly, "If You Will, You Can Still Achieve A 
   Strong, And Noble Character. O That You Had The Courage And Heroic Faith 
   In God To Fight Out This Battle To The End! Should You Do So, As I Told 
   You Before, You Would Be Ideal Knight. Heaven Would Ring With Your 
   Praise, However Unfriendly The World Might Be. I Cannot Conceive Of A 
   Grander Victory Than That Of A Debased nature Over Itself. If You Should 
   Win Such A Victory, Egbert--If, In addition, You Were Able, By The 
   Blessing Of God On Your Efforts, To Build Up A Strong, True Character--I 
   Would Honor You Above Other Men, Even Though You Remained a Wood-Sawyer 
   All Your Days," And Her Dark Eyes Became Lustrous With Deep Feeling as 
   She Spoke. 
     
     
     
   Haldane Looked at Her Fixedly For A Moment, And Grew Very Pale. He Then 
   Spoke Slowly And In a Low Tone: 
     
     
     
   "To Fail After What You Have Said And After All Your Kindness Would Be 
   Terrible. To Continue My Old Vile Self, And Also Remember The Prospect 
   You Now Hold Out--What Could Be Worse? And Yet What I Shall Do, What I 
   Shall Be, God Only Knows. But In sending You To Me I Feel That He Has 
   Given Me One More Chance." 
     
     
     
   "Egbert," She Replied eagerly, "God Will Give You Chances As Long As You 
   Breathe. Only The Devil Will Tell You To Despair. He, _Never_. Remember 
   This Should You Grow Old In sin. To Tell You The Truth, However, As I 
   See You Going Out Into The World So Humbled, So Self-Distrustful, I Have 
   Far More Hope For You Than When You First Left This Place, Fully Assured 
   That You Were, In yourself, Sufficient For All Your Peculiar 
   Difficulties. And Now, Once More, Good-By, For A Time. I Will Do 
   Everything I Can For You. I Have Seen Mr. Growther To-Day, And He 
   Appears Very Willing That You Should Return To His House For The 
   Present. Strange Old Man! I Want To Know Him Better, For I Believe His 
   Evil Is Chiefly On The Outside, And Will Fall Off Some Day, To His Great 
   Surprise." 
   
   
   
   Chapter XXXII (A Sacred refrigerator) 
   The Glare Of The Streets Was Intolerable To Haldane After His 
   Confinement, And He Hastened through Them, Looking Neither To The Right 
   Hand Nor To The Left. A Growl From Mr. Growther'S Dog Greeted him As He 
   Entered, And The Old Man Himself Snarled: 
     
     
     
   "Well, I S'Pose You Stood Me As Long As You Could, And Then Went To 
   Prison For A While For A Change." 
     
     
     
   "You Are Mistaken, Mr. Growther; I Went To Prison Because I Deserved to 
   Go There, And It'S Very Good Of You To Let Me Come Back Again." 
     
     
     
   "No, It Ain'T Good Of Me, Nuther. I Want A Little Peace And Comfort, And 
   How Could I Have 'Em While You Was Bein' Kicked and Cuffed around The 
   Streets? Here, I'Ll Get You Some Dinner. I S'Pose They Only Gave You 
   Enough At Jail To Aggravate Your In'Ards." 
     
     
     
   "No, Nothing More, Please. Isn'T There Something I Can Do? I'Ve Sat 
   Still Long Enough." 
     
     
     
   Mr. Growther Looked at Him A Moment, And Then Said: 
     
     
     
   "Are You Sayin' That Because You Mean It?" 
     
     
     
   "Yes." 
     
     
     
   "Would You Mind Helpin' Me Make A Little Garden? I Know I Ought To Have 
   Done It Long Ago, But I'M One Of Those 'Crastinating Cusses, And 
   Rheumatic In the Bargain." 
     
     
     
   "I'Ll Make Your Garden On The One Condition That You Stand By And Boss 
   The Job." 
     
     
     
   "O, I'M Good At Bossin', If Nothing Else. There Ain'T Much Use Of 
   Plantin' Anything, Though, For Every Pesky Bug And Worm In town Will 
   Start For My Patch As Soon As They Hear On'T." 
     
     
     
   "I Suppose They Come On The Same Principle That I Do." 
     
     
     
   "They Hain'T So Welcome--The Cussed little Varmints! Some On 'Em Are So 
   Blasted mean That I Know I Ought To Be Easier On 'Em Just Out Of Feller 
   Feelin'. Them Cut-Worms Now--If They'D Only Take A Plant And Satisfy 
   Their Nateral Appetites On It, It Would Go A Good Ways, And The Rest O' 
   The Plants Would Have A Chance To Grow Out Of Harm'S Way; But The Nasty 
   Little Things Will Jest Eat 'Em Off Above The Ground, As If They Was Cut 
   In Two By A Knife, And Then Go On To Anuther. That'S What I Call A Mean 
   Way Of Gettin' A Livin'; But There'S Lots Of People Like 'Em In town, 
   Who Spile More Than They Eat. Then There'S The Squash-Bug. If It'S His 
   Nater To Eat Up The Vines I S'Pose He Must Do It, But Why In thunder 
   Must He Smell Bad Enough To Knock You Over Into The Bargain? It'S Allers 
   Been My Private Opinion That The Devil Made These Pests, And The Lord 
   Had Nothin' To Do With 'Em. The Idea That He Should Create A Rose, And 
   Then A Rose-Bug To Spile It, Ain'T Reconcilable To What Little Reason 
   I'Ve Got." 
     
     
     
   "Well," Replied haldane With A Glimmer Of A Smile, "I Cannot Account For 
   Rose-Bugs And A Good Many Worse Things. I Notice, However, That In spite 
   Of All These Enemies People Manage To Raise A Great Deal That'S Very 
   Nice Every Year. Suppose We Try It." 
     
     
     
   They Were Soon At Work, And Haldane Felt The Better For A Few Hours' 
   Exercise In the Open Air. 
     
     
     
   The Next Morning Mrs. Arnot Brought Some Papers Which She Said A Legal 
   Friend Wished copied, And She Left With Them, Inclosed in an Envelope, 
   Payment In advance. After She Had Gone Haldane Offered the Money To Mr. 
   Growther, But The Old Man Only Growled: 
     
     
     
   "Chuck It In a Drawer, And The One Of Us Who Wants It First Can Have 
   It." 
     
     
     
   For The Next Two Or Three Weeks Mrs. Arnot, By The Dint Of Considerable 
   Effort, Kept Up A Supply Of Mss., Of Which Copies Were Required, And She 
   Supplemented the Prices Which The Parties Concerned were Willing To Pay. 
   Her Charitable And Helpful Habits Were Well Known To Her Friends, And 
   They Often Enabled her Thus To Aid Those To Whom She Could Not Give 
   Money Direct. But This Uncertain Employment Would Soon Fail, And What 
   Her Protege Was Then To Do She Could Not Foresee. No One Would Trust 
   Him, And No One Cared to Have Him About His Premises. 
     
     
     
   But In the Meantime The Young Man Was Thinking Deeply For Himself. He 
   Soon Concluded not To Make Mr. Growther'S Humble Cottage A Hiding-Place; 
   And He Commenced walking abroad Through The City After The Work Of The 
   Day. He Assumed no Bravado, But Went Quietly On His Way Like Any Other 
   Passer-By. The Majority Of Those Who Knew Who He Was Either Ignored his 
   Existence, Or Else Looked curiously After Him, But Some Took Pains To 
   Manifest Their Contempt. He Could Not Have Been More Lonely And Isolated 
   If He Were Walking a Desert. 
     
     
     
   Among The Promises He Had Made Mrs. Arnot Was That He Would Attend 
   Church, And She Naturally Asked him To Come To Her Own. 
     
     
     
   "As You Feel Toward My Husband, It Will Probably Not Be Pleasant For You 
   To Come To Our Pew" She Had Said; "But I Hope The Time Will Come When 
   Bygones Will Be Bygones. The Sexton, However, Will Give You A Seat, And 
   Our Minister Preaches Excellent Sermons" 
     
     
     
   Not Long After, True To His Word, The Young Man Went A Little Early, As 
   He Wished to Be As Unobtrusive As Possible. At The Same Time There Was 
   Nothing Furtive Or Cringing In his Nature. As He Had Openly Done Wrong, 
   He Was Now Resolved to Try As Openly To Do Right, And Let People Ascribe 
   Whatever Motive They Chose. 
     
     
     
   But His Heart Misgave Him As He Approached the New Elegant Church On The 
   Most Fashionable Street. He Felt That His Clothes Were Not In keeping 
   With Either The Place Of Worship Or The Worshippers. 
     
     
     
   Mr. Arnot'S Confidential Clerk Was Talking With The Sexton As He 
   Hesitatingly Mounted the Granite Steps, And He Saw That Dignified 
   Functionary, Who Seemed in some Way Made To Order With The Church Over 
   Which He Presided, Eye Him Askance While He Lent An Ear To What Was 
   Evidently A Bit Of His History. Walking Quietly But Firmly Up To The 
   Official, Haldane Asked: 
     
     
     
   "Will You Give Me A Seat, Sir?" 
     
     
     
   The Man Reddened, Frowned, And Then Said: 
     
     
     
   "Really, Sir, Our Seats Are Generally Taken Sunday Mornings. I Think You 
   Will Feel More At Home At Our Mission Chapel In guy Street." 
     
     
     
   "And Among The Guys, Why Don'T You Add?" Retorted haldane, His Old 
   Spirit Flashing Up, And He Turned on His Heel And Stalked back To Mr. 
   Growther'S Cottage. 
     
     
     
   "Short Sermon To-Day," Said The Old Man Starting Out Of A Doze. 
     
     
     
   Haldane Told Him Of His Reception. 
     
     
     
   The Wrinkles In the Quaint Visage Of His Host Grew Deep And Complicated, 
   As Though He Had Tasted something Very Bitter, And He Remarked 
   Sententiously: 
     
     
     
   "If Satan Could He'D Pay That Sexton A Whoppin' Sum To Stand At The Door 
   And Keep Sinners Out." 
     
     
     
   "No Need of The Devil Paying Him Anything; The Well-Dressed christians 
   See To That. As I Promised mrs. Arnot To Come, I Tried to Keep My Word, 
   But This Flunky'S Face And Manner Alone Are Enough To Turn Away Such As 
   I Am. None But The Eminently Respectable Need apply At That Gate Of 
   Heaven. If It Were Not For Mrs. Arnot I Would Believe The Whole Thing a 
   Farce." 
     
     
     
   "Is Jesus Christ A Farce?" Asked the Practical Mr. Growther, Testily. 
   "What Is The Use Of Jumping Five Hundred miles From The Truth Because 
   You'Ve Happened to Run Afoul Of Some Of Those Pharisees That He Cussed?" 
     
     
     
   Haldane Laughed and Said, "You Have A Matter-Of-Fact Way Of Putting 
   Things That There Is No Escaping. It Will, Probably, Do Me More Good To 
   Stay Home And Read The Bible To You Than To Be At Church." 
     
     
     
   The Confidential Clerk, Who Had Remained gossiping In the Vestibule, 
   Thought The Scene He Had Witnessed worth Mentioning To His Employer, Who 
   Entered with Mrs. Arnot Not Very Long After, And Lingered for A Word Or 
   Two. The Man Of Business Smiled grimly, And Passed on. He Usually 
   Attended church Once A Day, Partly From Habit And Partly Because It Was 
   The Respectable Thing To Do. He Had Been Known To Remark That He Never 
   Lost Anything By It, For Some Of His Most Successful Moves Suggested 
   Themselves To His Mind During The Monotony Of The Service. 
     
     
     
   To Annoy His Wife, And Also To Gratify A Disposition To Sneer At The 
   Faults Of Christians, Mr. Arnot, At The Dinner, Commenced to Commend 
   Ironically The Sexton'S Course. 
     
     
     
   "A Most Judicious Man!" He Affirmed. "Saint Peter Himself At The Gate 
   Could Not More Accurately Strain Out The Saints From The Sinners--Nay, 
   He Is Even Keener-Eyed than Saint Peter, For He Can Tell First-Class 
   From Second-Class Saints. Though Our Church Is Not Full, I Now 
   Understand Why We Have A Mission Chapel. You May Trust 'Jeems' To Keep 
   Out All But The Very First-Class--Those Who Can Exchange Silk And 
   Broadcloth For The White Robe. But What On Earth Could Have Brought 
   About Such A Speedy Transition From Jail To Church On The Part Of 
   Haldane?" 
     
     
     
   "I Invited him," Said Mrs. Arnot, In a Pained tone; "But I Did Not Think 
   It Would Be To Meet With Insult" 
     
     
     
   "Insult! Quite The Reverse. I Should Think That Such As He Ought To Feel 
   It An Honor To Be Permitted a Place Among The Second-Class Saints." 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot'S Thoughts Were Very Busy That Afternoon. She Was Not By 
   Nature An Innovator, And, Indeed, Was Inclined to Accept The Established 
   Order Of Things Without Very Close Questioning. Her Christian Life Had 
   Been Developed chiefly By Circumstances Purely Personal, And She Had 
   Unconsciously Found Walks Of Usefulness Apart From The Organized church 
   Work. But She Was A Devout Worshipper And A Careful Listener To The 
   Truth. It Had Been Her Custom To Ride To The Morning Service, And, As 
   They Resided some Distance From The Church, To Remain At Home In the 
   Evening, Giving all In her Employ A Chance To Go Out. 
     
     
     
   Concerning The Financial Affairs Of The Church She Was Kept Well 
   Informed, For She Was A Liberal Contributor, And Also To All Other Good 
   Causes Presented. From Earliest Years Her Eye Had Always Been Accustomed 
   To The Phases Presented by A Fashionable Church, And Everything Moved 
   Forward So Quietly And With Such Sacred decorum That The Thought Of 
   Anything Wrong Did Not Occur To Her. 
     
     
     
   But The Truth That One Who Was Endeavoring To Lead A Better Life Had 
   Been Practically Turned from The Door Of God'S House Seemed to Her A 
   Monstrous Thing. How Much Truth Was There In her Husband'S Sarcasm? How 
   Far Did Her Church Represent The Accessible Jesus Of Nazareth, To Whom 
   All Were Welcomed, Or How Far Did It Misrepresent Him? Now That Her 
   Attention Was Called to The Fact, She Remembered that The Congregation 
   Was Chiefly Made Up Of The _Elite_ Of The City, And That She Rarely 
   Had Seen Any One Present Who Did Not Clearly Present The Fullest 
   Evidence Of Respectability. Were Those Whom The Master Most Emphatically 
   Came To Seek And Save Excluded? She Determined to Find Out Speedily. 
     
     
     
   Summoning Her Coachman, She Told Him That She Wished to Attend Church 
   That Evening. She Dressed herself Very Plainly, And Entered the Church 
   Closely Veiled. Instead Of Going To Her Own Pew, She Asked the Judicious 
   And Discriminating Sexton For A Seat. After A Careless Glance He Pointed 
   To One Of The Seats Near The Door, And Turned his Back Upon Her. A 
   Richly Dressed lady And Gentleman Entered soon After, And He Was All 
   Attention, Marshalling Them Up The Aisle Into Mrs. Arnot'S Own Pew, 
   Since It Was Known She Did Not Occupy It In the Evening. A Few Decent, 
   Plain-Looking Women, Evidently Sent Thither By The Wealthy Families In 
   Whose Employ They Were, Came In hesitatingly, And Those Who Did Not Take 
   Seats Near The Entrance, As A Matter Of Course, Were Motioned thither 
   Without Ceremony. The Audience Room Was But Sparsely Filled, Large 
   Families Being Represented by One Or Two Members Or Not At All. But Mrs. 
   Arnot Saw None Of Haldane'S Class Present--None Who Looked as If They 
   Were In danger, And Needed a Kind, Strong, Rescuing Hand--None Who 
   Looked hungry And Athirst For Truth Because Perishing For Its Lack. In 
   That Elegant And Eminently Respectable Place, Upholstered and Decorated 
   With Faultless Taste, There Was Not A Hint Of Publicans And Sinners. One 
   Might Suppose He Was In the Midst Of The Millennium, And That The 
   Classes To Whom Christ Preached had All Become So Thoroughly Converted 
   That They Did Not Even Need to Attend Church. There Was Not A Suggestion 
   Of The Fact That But A Few Blocks Away Enough To Fill The Empty Pews 
   Were Living Worse Than Heathen Lives. 
     
     
     
   The Choir Performed their Part Melodiously, And A Master In music Could 
   Have Found No Fault With The Technical Rendering Of The Musical Score. 
   They Were Paid To Sing, And They Gave To Such Of Their Employers As 
   Cared to Be Present Every Note As It Was Written, In its Full Value. As 
   Never Before, It Struck Mrs. Arnot As A Performance. The Service She Had 
   Attended hitherto Was Partly The Creation Of Her Own Earnest And 
   Devotional Spirit. To-Night She Was Learning To Know The Service As It 
   Really Existed. 
     
     
     
   The Minister Was Evidently A Conscientious Man, For He Had Prepared his 
   Evening Discourse For His Thin Audience As Thoroughly As He Had His 
   Morning Sermon. Every Word Was Carefully Written Down, And The Thought 
   Of The Text Was Exhaustively Developed. But Mrs. Arnot Was Too Far Back 
   To Hear Well. The Poor Man Seemed weary And Discouraged with The Arid 
   Wastes Of Empty Seats Over Which He Must Scatter The Seeds Of Truth To 
   No Purpose. He Looked dim And Ghostly In the Far-Away Pulpit, And In 
   Spite Of Herself His Sermon Began To Have The Aspect Of A Paid 
   Performance, The Effect Of Which Would Scarcely Be More Appreciable Than 
   The Sighing Of The Wind Without. The Keenest Theologian Could Not Detect 
   The Deviation Of A Hair From The Received orthodox Views, And The 
   Majority Present Were Evidently Satisfied that His Views Would Be 
   Correct, For They Did Not Give Very Close Attention. The Few Plain 
   Domestics Near Her Dozed and Nodded through The Hour, And So Gained some 
   Physical Preparation For The Toils Of The Week, But Their Spiritual 
   Natures Were As Clearly Dormant As Their Lumpish Bodies. 
     
     
     
   After The Service Mrs. Arnot Lingered, To See If Any One Would Speak To 
   Her As A Stranger And Ask Her To Come Again. Such Was Clearly Not The 
   Habit Of The Congregation. She Felt That Her Black Veil, An Evidence Of 
   Sorrow, Was A Sort Of Signal Of Distress Which Ought To Have Lured some 
   One To Her Side With A Kind Word Or Two, But Beyond A Few Curious 
   Glances She Was Unnoticed. People Spoke Who Were Acquainted, Who Had 
   Been Introduced to Each Other. As The Worshippers (?) Hastened out, Glad 
   To Escape To Regions Where Living Questions And Interests Existed, The 
   Sexton, Who Had Been Dozing In a Comfortable Corner, Bustled to The Far 
   End Of The Church, And Commenced, With An Assistant, Turning Out The 
   Lights On Either Side So Rapidly That It Seemed as If A Wave Of Darkness 
   Was Following Those Who Had Come Thither Ostensibly Seeking Light. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Hastened to Her Carriage, Where It Stood Under The Obscuring 
   Shadow Of A Tree, And Was Driven Home Sad And Indignant--Most Indignant 
   At Herself That She Had Been So Absorbed in her Own Thoughts And Life 
   That She Had Not Discovered that The Church To Build And Sustain Which 
   She Had Given So Liberally Was Scarcely Better Than A Costly 
   Refrigerator. 
   
   
   
   Chapter XXXIII (A Doubtful Battle In prospect) 
   The Painful Impression Made By The Evening Service That Has Been 
   Described acted as A Rude Disenchantment, And The Beautiful Church, To 
   Which Mrs. Arnot Had Returned every Sabbath Morning With Increasing 
   Pleasure, Became As Repulsive As It Had Been Sacred and Attractive. To 
   Her Sincere And Earnest Spirit Anything In the Nature Of A Sham Was 
   Peculiarly Offensive; And What, She Often Asked herself, Could Be More 
   Un-Christlike Than This Service Which Had Been Held In his Name? 
     
     
     
   The Revelation So Astonished and Disheartened her That She Was Prone To 
   Believe That There Was Something Exceptional In that Miserable Sabbath 
   Evening'S Experience, And She Determined to Observe Further And More 
   Closely Before Taking any Action. She Spoke Frankly Of Her Feelings And 
   Purposes To Haldane, And In so Doing Benefited the Young Man Very Much; 
   For He Was Thus Led to Draw A Sharp Line Between Christ And The 
   Christlike And That Phase Of Christianity Which Is Largely Leavened with 
   This World. No Excuse Was Given Him To Jumble The True And The False 
   Together. 
     
     
     
   "You Will Do Me A Favor If You Will Quietly Enter The Church Next Sunday 
   Morning and Evening, And Unobtrusively Take One Of The Seats Near The 
   Door," She Said To Him. "I Wish To Bring This Matter To An Issue As Soon 
   As Possible. If You Could Manage To Enter A Little In advance Of Me, I 
   Would Also Be Glad. I Know How Christ Received sinners, And I Would Like 
   To See How We Who Profess To Be Representing Him, Receive Those Who Come 
   To His House." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Did As She Requested. In a Quiet And Perfectly Unobtrusive 
   Manner He Walked up The Granite Steps Into The Vestibule, And His 
   Coarse, Gray Suit, Although Scrupulously Clean, Was Conspicuous In its 
   Contrast With The Elegant Attire Of The Other Worshippers. He Himself 
   Was Conspicuous Also; For Many Knew Who He Was, And Whispered the 
   Information To Others. A "Jail-Bird" Was, Indeed, A _Rara Avis_ In 
   That Congregation, And There Was A Slight, But Perfectly Decorous, 
   Sensation. However Greatly These Elegant People Might Lack The Spirit Of 
   Him Who Was "The Friend Of Publicans And Sinners" They Would Not For The 
   World Do Anything That Was Overtly Rude Or Ill-Bred. Only The Official 
   Sexton Frowned visibly As The Youth Took A Seat Near The Door. Others 
   Looked askance Or Glided past Like Polished icicles. Haldane'S Teeth 
   Almost Chattered with The Cold. He Felt Himself Oppressed, And Almost 
   Pushed out Of The House, By The Moral Atmosphere Created by The 
   Repellent Thoughts Of Some Who Apparently Felt The Place Defiled by His 
   Presence. Mrs. Arnot, With Her Keen Intuition, Felt This Atmosphere 
   Also, And Detected on The Part Of One Or Two Of The Officers Of The 
   Church An Unchristian Spirit. Although The Sermon Was An Excellent One 
   That Morning, She Did Not Hear It. 
     
     
     
   In The Evening a Lady Draped in a Black Veil Sat By Haldane. The Service 
   Was But A Dreary Counterpart Of The One Of The Previous Sabbath. The Sky 
   Had Been Overcast And Slightly Threatening, And Still Fewer Worshippers 
   Had Ventured out. 
     
     
     
   Beyond Furtive And Curious Glances No One Noticed them Save The Sexton, 
   Who Looked and Acted as If Haldane'S Continued coming Was A Nuisance, 
   Which, In some Way, He Must Manage To Abate. 
     
     
     
   The Young Man Waited for Mrs. Arnot At Her Carriage-Door, And Said As He 
   Handed her In: 
     
     
     
   "I Have Kept My Word; But Please Do Not Ask Me To Come To This Church 
   Again, Or I Shall Turn Infidel." 
     
     
     
   "I Shall Not Come Myself Again," She Replied, "Unless There Is A Decided 
   Change." 
     
     
     
   The Next Morning She Wrote Notes To Two Of The Leading Officers Of The 
   Church, Asking Them To Call That Evening; And Her Request Was So Urgent 
   That They Both Came At The Appointed hour. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot'S Quiet But Clear And Distinct Statement Of The Evils Of 
   Which She Had Become Conscious Greatly Surprised and Annoyed them. They, 
   With Their Associates, Had Been Given Credit For Organizing and 
   "Running" The Most Fashionable And Prosperous Church In town. An Elegant 
   Structure Had Been Built And Paid For, And Such A Character Given The 
   Congregation That If Strangers Visited or Were About To Take Up Their 
   Abode In the City They Were Made To Feel That The Door Of This Church 
   Led to Social Position And The Most Aristocratic Circles. Of Course, 
   Mistakes Were Made. People Sometimes Elbowed their Way In who Were 
   Evidently Flaunting Weeds Among The Patrician Flowers, And Occasionally 
   Plain, Honest, But Somewhat Obtuse Souls Would Come As To A Christian 
   Church. But People Who Were "Not Desirable"--The Meaning Of This Phrase 
   Had Become Well Understood In hillaton--Were Generally Frozen Out By An 
   Atmosphere Made So Chilly, Even In august, That They Were Glad To Escape 
   To Other Associations Less Benumbing. Indeed, It Was Now So Generally 
   Recognized that Only Those Of The Best And Most Assured social Position 
   Were "Desirable," That Few Others Ventured up The Granite Steps Or 
   Sought Admittance To This Region Of Sacred respectability. And Yet All 
   This Had Been Brought About So Gradually, And So Entirely Within The 
   Laws Of Good Breeding and Ecclesiastical Usage, And Also Under The Most 
   Orthodox Preaching, That No One Could Lay His Finger On Anything Upon 
   Which To Raise An Issue. 
     
     
     
   The Result Was Just What These Officers Had Been Working For, And It Was 
   Vexatious Indeed that, After Years Of Successful Manipulation, A Lady Of 
   Mrs. Arnot'S Position Should Threaten To Make Trouble. 
     
     
     
   "My Dear Mrs. Arnot," Said One Of These Polished gentlemen, With A 
   Suavity That Was Designed to Conciliate, But Which Was Nevertheless 
   Tinged with Philosophical Dogmatism, "There Are Certain Things That Will 
   Not Mix, And The Attempt To Mingle Them Is Wasting Time On The 
   Impossible. It Is In accordance With The Laws Of Nature That Each Class 
   Should Draw Together According To Their Affinities And Social Status. 
   Our Church Is Now Entirely Homogeneous, And Everything Moves Forward 
   Without Any Friction." 
     
     
     
   "It Appears To Me Sadly Machine-Like," The Lady Remarked. 
     
     
     
   "Indeed, Madam," With A Trace Of Offended dignity, "Is Not The Gospel 
   Ably Preached?" 
     
     
     
   "Yes, But It Is Not Obeyed. We Have Been Made Homogeneous Solely On 
   Worldly Principles, And Not On Those Taught In the Gospels." 
     
     
     
   They Could Not Agree, As Might Have Been Supposed, And Mrs. Arnot Was 
   Thought To Be Unreasonable And Full Of Impracticable Theories. 
     
     
     
   "Very Well, Gentlemen," Said Mrs. Arnot, With Some Warmth, "If There Can 
   Be No Change In these Respects, No Other Course Is Left For Me But To 
   Withdraw;" And The Religious Politicians Bowed themselves Out, Much 
   Relieved, Feeling That This Was The Easiest Solution Of The Question. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Soon After Wrote To The Rev. Dr. Barstow, Pastor Of The 
   Church, For A Letter Of Dismission. The Good Man Was Much Surprised by 
   The Contents Of This Missive. Indeed, It So Completely Broke A Chain Of 
   Deep Theological Speculation That He Deserted his Study For The Street. 
   Here He Met An Officer Of The Church, A Man Somewhat Advanced in years, 
   Whom He Had Come To Regard As Rather Reserved and Taciturn In 
   Disposition. But In his Perplexity He Exhibited mrs. Arnot'S Letter, And 
   Asked an Explanation. 
     
     
     
   "Well," Said The Gentleman, Uneasily, "I Understand That Mrs. Arnot Is 
   Dissatisfied, And Perhaps She Has Some Reason To Be." 
     
     
     
   "Upon What Grounds?" Asked the Clergyman Hastily. 
     
     
     
   "Suppose We Call Upon Her," Was The Reply. "I Would Rather You Should 
   Hear Her Reasons From Herself; And, In fact, I Would Be Glad To Hear 
   Them Also." 
     
     
     
   Half An Hour Later They Sat In mrs. Arnot'S Parlor. 
     
     
     
   "My Dear Madam," Said Dr. Barstow, "Are You Willing To Tell Us Frankly 
   What Has Led to The Request Contained in this Letter? I Hope That I Am 
   In No Way To Blame." 
     
     
     
   "Perhaps We Have All Been Somewhat To Blame," Replied mrs. Arnot In a 
   Tone So Gentle And Quiet As To Prove That She Was Under The Influence Of 
   No Unkindly Feeling Or Resentment; "At Least I Feel That I Have Been 
   Much To Blame For Not Seeing What Is Now But Too Plain. But Habit And 
   Custom Deaden Our Perceptions. The Aspect Of Our Church Was That Of Good 
   Society--Nothing To Jar Upon Or Offend The Most Critical Taste. Your 
   Sermons Were Deeply Thoughtful And Profound, And I Both Enjoyed and Was 
   Benefited by Them. I Came And Went Wrapped up In my Own Spiritual Life 
   And Absorbed in my Own Plans And Work, When, Unexpectedly, An Incident 
   Occurred which Revealed to Me What I Fear Is The _Animus_ And Character 
   Of Our Church Organization. I Can Best Tell You What I Mean By Relating 
   My Experience And That Of A Young Man Whom I Have Every Reason To 
   Believe Wishes To Lead A Better Life, Yes, Even A Christian Life;" 
   And She Graphically Portrayed all That Had Occurred, And The Impressions 
   Made Upon Her By The Atmosphere She Had Found Prevalent, When She Placed 
   Herself In the Attitude Of A Humble Stranger. 
     
     
     
   "And Now," She Said In conclusion, "Do We Represent Christ, Or Are We So 
   Leavened by The World That It May Be Doubted whether He Would 
   Acknowledge Us?" 
     
     
     
   The Minister Shaded his Pained and Troubled face With His Hand. 
     
     
     
   "We Represent The World," Said The Church Officer Emphatically; "I Have 
   Had A Miserable Consciousness Of Whither We Were Drifting For A Long 
   Time, But Everything Has Come About So Gradually And So Properly, As It 
   Were, That I Could Find No One Thing Upon Which I Could Lay My Finger 
   And Say, This Is Wrong And I Protest Against It. Of Course, If I Had 
   Heard The Sexton Make Such A Remark To Any One Seeking To Enter The 
   House Of God As Was Made To The Young Man You Mention I Should Have 
   Interfered. And Yet The Question Is One Of Great Difficulty. Can Such 
   Diverse Classes Meet On Common Ground?" 
     
     
     
   "My Dear Sir," Said Mrs. Arnot Earnestly, "I Do Not Think We, As A 
   Church, Are Called upon To Adjust These Diverse Classes, And To Settle, 
   On The Sabbath, Nice Social Distinctions. The Head Of The Church Said, 
   'Whosoever Will, Let Him Come.' We, Pretending To Act In his Name And By 
   His Authority, Say, 'Whosoever Is Sufficiently Respectable And 
   Well-Dressed, Let Him Come.' I Feel That I Cannot Any Longer Be A Party 
   To This Perversion. 
     
     
     
   "If We Would Preserve Our Right To Be Known As A Christian Church We 
   Must Say To All, To The Poor, To The Most Sinful And Debased, As Well As 
   To Those Who Are Now Welcomed, 'Come'; And When They Are Within Our 
   Walls They Should Be Made To Feel That The House Does Not Belong To An 
   Aristocratic Clique, But Rather To Him Who Was The Friend Of Publicans 
   And Sinners. Christ Adjusted himself To The Diverse Classes. Are We His 
   Superiors?" 
     
     
     
   "But, My Dear Madam, Are There To Be No Social Distinctions?" 
     
     
     
   "I Am Not Speaking Of Social Distinctions. Birth, Culture, And Wealth 
   Will Always, And Very Properly, Too, Make Great Differences. In inviting 
   People To Our Homes We May Largely Consult Our Own Tastes And 
   Preferences, And Neither Good Sense Nor Christian Duty Requires That 
   There Should Be Intimacy Between Those Unfitted for It By Education And 
   Character. But A Church Is Not Our House, But God'S House, And What 
   Right Have We To Stand In the Door And Turn Away Those Whom He Most 
   Cordially Invites? Christ Had His Beloved disciple, And So We Can Have 
   Our Beloved and Congenial Friends. But There Were None Too Low Or Lowly 
   For Him To Help By Direct Personal Effort, By Sympathetic Contact, And 
   I, For One, Dare Not Ignore His Example." 
     
     
     
   "Do You Not Think We Can Better Accomplish This Work By Our Mission 
   Chapel?" 
     
     
     
   "Where Is Your Precedent? Christ Washed the Feet Of Fishermen In order 
   To Give Us An Example Of Humility, And To Teach Us That We Should Be 
   Willing To Serve Any One In his Name. I Heartily Approve Of Mission 
   Chapels As Outposts; But, As In earthly Warfare, They Should Be Posts Of 
   Honor, Posts For The Brave, The Sagacious, And The Most Worthy. If They 
   Are Maintained in the Character Of Second-Class Cars, They Are To That 
   Extent Unchristian. If Those Who Are Gathered there Are To Be Kept There 
   Solely On Account Of Their Dress And Humble Circumstances, I Would Much 
   Prefer Taking My Chances Of Meeting My Master With Them Than In the 
   Church Which Practically Excludes Them. 
     
     
     
   "Christ Said, 'I Was A Stranger, And Ye Took Me In.' I Came To Our 
   Church As A Stranger Twice. I Was Permitted to Walk In and Walk Out, But 
   No One Spoke To Me, No One Invited me To Come Again. It Seems To Me That 
   I Would Starve Rather Than Enter A Private House Where I Was So Coldly 
   Treated. I Have No Desire For Startling Innovations. I Simply Wish To 
   Unite Myself With A Church That Is Trying To Imitate The Example Of The 
   Master, And Where All, Whatever May Be Their Garb Or Social And Moral 
   Character, Are Cordially Invited and Sincerely Welcomed." 
     
     
     
   Dr. Barstow Now Removed his Hand From His Face. It Was Pale, But Its 
   Expression Was Resolute And Noble. 
     
     
     
   "Mrs. Arnot, Permit Me To Say That You Are Both Right And Wrong," He 
   Said. "Your Views Of What A Church Should Be Are Right; You Are Wrong In 
   Wishing To Withdraw Before Having Patiently And Prayerfully Sought To 
   Inculcate A True Christian Spirit Among Those To Whom You Owe And Have 
   Promised christian Fidelity. You Know That I Have Not Very Long Been The 
   Pastor Of This Church, But I Have Already Felt That Something Was Amiss. 
   I Have Been Oppressed and Benumbed with A Certain Coldness And Formality 
   In Our Church Life. At The Same Time I Admit, With Contrition, That I 
   Have Given Way To My Besetting Sin. I Am Naturally A Student, And When 
   Once In my Study I Forget The Outside World. I Am Prone To Become Wholly 
   Occupied with The Thought Of My Text, And To Forget Those For Whom I Am 
   Preparing My Discourse. I, Too, Often Think More Of The Sermon Than Of 
   The People, Forgetting The End In the Means, And Thus I Fear I Was 
   Becoming But A Voice, A Religious Philosophy, Among Them, Instead Of A 
   Living and A Personal Power. You Have Been Awakened to The Truth, Mrs. 
   Arnot, And You Have Awakened me. I Do Not Feel Equal To The Task Which I 
   Clearly Foresee Before Me; I May Fail Miserably, But I Shall No Longer 
   Darken Counsel With Many Words. You Have Given Me Much Food For Thought; 
   And While I Cannot Foretell The End, I Think Present Duty Will Be Made 
   Clear. In times Of Perplexity It Is Our Part To Do What Seems Right, 
   Asking God For Guidance, And Then Leave The Consequences To Him. One 
   Thing Seems Plain To Me, However, That It Is Your Present Duty To Remain 
   With Us, And Give Your Prayers And The Whole Weight Of Your Influence On 
   The Side Of Reform." 
     
     
     
   "Dr. Barstow," Said Mrs. Arnot, Her Face Flushing Slightly, "You Are 
   Right; You Are Right. I Have Been Hasty, And, While Condemning Others, 
   Was Acting Wrong Myself. You Have Shown The Truer Christian Spirit. I 
   Will Remain While There Is Any Hope Of A Change For The Better." 
     
     
     
   "Well, Mrs. Arnot," Said Mr. Blakeman, The Elderly Church Officer, "I 
   Have Drawn You Out Partly To Get Your Views And Partly To Get Some 
   Clearer Views Myself. I, Too, Am With You, Doctor, In this Struggle; But 
   I Warn You Both That We Shall Have A Hot Time Before We Thaw The Ice Out 
   Of Our Church." 
     
     
     
   "First Pure, And Then Peaceable," Said The Minister Slowly And Musingly; 
   And Then They Separated, Each Feeling Somewhat As Soldiers Who Are About 
   To Engage In a Severe And Doubtful Battle. 
     
   
   
   
   Chapter XXXIV (A Foothold) 
   The Skies Did Not Brighten For Haldane, And He Remained perplexed and 
   Despondent. When One Wishes To Reform, Everything Does Not Become Lovely 
   In This Unfriendly World. The First Steps Are Usually The Most 
   Difficult, And The Earliest Experience The Most Disheartening. God Never 
   Designed that Reform Should Be Easy. As It Is, People Are Too Ready To 
   Live The Life Which Renders Reform Necessary. The Ranks Of The Victims 
   Of Evil Would Be Doubled did Not A Wholesome Fear Of The Consequences 
   Restrain. 
     
     
     
   Within A Few Short Weeks The Fortunes Of The Wealthy And Self-Confident 
   Youth Had Altered so Greatly That Now He Questioned whether The World 
   Would Give Him Bread, Except On Conditions That Were Painfully 
   Repugnant. 
     
     
     
   There Was His Mother'S Offer, It Is True; But Had Mrs. Haldane 
   Considered the Nature Of This Offer, Even She Could Scarcely Have Made 
   It. Suppose He Tried to Follow Out His Mother'S Plan, And Went To A City 
   Where He Was Unknown, Could She Expect An Active Young Fellow To Go To 
   An Obscure Boarding-House, And Merely Eat And Sleep? By An Inevitable 
   Law The Springing Forces Of His Nature Must Find Employment Either In 
   Good Or Evil. If He Sought Employment Of Any Kind The Question Would At 
   Once Arise, "Who Are You?" And Sooner Or Later Would Come His History. 
   In His Long, Troubled reveries He Thought Of All This, And The Prospect 
   Of Vegetating In dull Obscurity At His Mother'S Expense Was As Pleasant 
   As That Of Being Buried alive. 
     
     
     
   Moreover, He Could Not Endure To Leave Hillaton In utter Defeat. He Was 
   Prostrate, And Felt The Foot Of Adverse Fate Upon His Neck, But He Would 
   Not Acknowledge Himself Conquered. If He Could Regain His Feet He Would 
   Renew The Struggle; And He Hoped in some Way To Do So. As Yet, However, 
   The Future Was A Wall Of Darkness. 
     
     
     
   Neither Did He Find Any Rest For His Spiritual Feet. For Some Reason He 
   Could Not Grasp The Idea Of A Personal God Who Cared enough For Him To 
   Give Any Practical Help. In spite Of All That Mrs. Arnot Could Say, His 
   Heart Remained as Cold And Heavy As A Stone Within His Breast. 
     
     
     
   But To Some Extent He Could Appreciate The Picture She Had Presented. He 
   Saw One Who, Through Weakness And Folly, Had Fallen Into The Depths Of 
   Degradation, Patiently And Bravely Fighting His Way Up To A True 
   Manhood; And He Had Been Made To Feel That It Was Such A Noble Thing To 
   Do That He Longed to Accomplish It. Whether He Could Or No He Was Not 
   Sure, For His Old Confidence Was All Gone. But He Daily Grew More Bent 
   On Making an Honest Trial, And In this Effort A Certain Native 
   Persistency And Unwillingness To Yield Would Be Of Much Help To Him. 
     
     
     
   He Was Now Willing, Also, To Receive Any Aid Which Self-Respect 
   Permitted him To Accept, And Was Grateful For The Copying Obtained for 
   Him By Mrs. Arnot. But She Frankly Told Him That It Would Not Last Long. 
   The Question What He Should Do Next Pressed heavily Upon Him. 
     
     
     
   As He Was Reading The Paper To Mr. Growther One Evening, His Eye Caught 
   An Advertisement Which Stated that More Hands Were Needed at A Certain 
   Factory In the Suburbs. He Felt Sure That If He Presented himself In the 
   Morning With The Others He Would Be Refused, And He Formed the Bold 
   Purpose Of Going at Once To The Manufacturer. Having Found The Stately 
   Residence, He Said To The Servant Who Answered his Summons: 
     
     
     
   "Will You Say To Mr. Ivison That A Person Wishes To See Him?" 
     
     
     
   The Maid Eyed him Critically, And Concluded, From His Garb, To Leave Him 
   Standing In the Hall. 
     
     
     
   Mr. Ivison Left His Guests In the Parlor And Came Out, Annoyed at The 
   Interruption. 
     
     
     
   "Well, What Do You Wish, Sir?" He Said, In a Tone That Was Far From 
   Being Encouraging, At The Same Time Gaining an Unfavorable Impression 
   From Haldane'S Dress. 
     
     
     
   "In The Evening Paper You Advertised for More Hands In your Factory. I 
   Wish Employment." 
     
     
     
   "Are You Drunk, Or Crazy, That You Thus Apply At My Residence?" Was The 
   Harsh Reply. 
     
     
     
   "Neither, Sir; I--" 
     
     
     
   "You Are Very Presuming, Then." 
     
     
     
   "You Would Not Employ Me If I Came In the Morning." 
     
     
     
   "What Do You Mean? Who Are You?" 
     
     
     
   "I Am At Least Human. Can You Give One Or Two Moments To The 
   Consideration Of My Case?" 
     
     
     
   "One Might Afford That Much," Said The Gentleman With A Half-Apologetic 
   Laugh; For The Pale Face And Peculiar Bearing Of The Stranger Were 
   Beginning To Interest Him. 
     
     
     
   "I Do Not Ask More Of Your Time, And Will Come Directly To The Point. My 
   Name Is Haldane, And, As Far As I Am Concerned, You Know Nothing Good 
   Concerning Me." 
     
     
     
   "You Are Correct," Said Mr. Ivison Coldly. "I Shall Not Need your 
   Services." 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Ivison," Said Haldane In a Tone That Made The Gentleman Pause, 
   "Ought I To Be A Thief And A Vagabond?" 
     
     
     
   "Certainly Not." 
     
     
     
   "Then Why Do You, And All Who, Like You, Have Honest Work To Give, Leave 
   Me No Other Alternative? I Have Acted wrongly And Foolishly, But I Wish 
   To Do Better. I Do Not Ask A Place Of Trust, Only Work With Others, 
   Under The Eyes Of Others, Where I Could Not Rob You Of A Cent'S Worth If 
   I Wished. In the Hurry And Routine Of Your Office You Would Not Listen 
   To Me, So I Come To-Night And Make This Appeal. If You Refuse It, And I 
   Go To The Devil, You Will Have A Hand In the Result." 
     
     
     
   The Prompt Business-Man, Whose Mind Had Learned to Work With The 
   Rapidity Of His Machinery, Looked at The Troubled, Half-Desperate Face A 
   Moment, And Then Said Emphatically: 
     
     
     
   "By Jove, You Are Right! I'Ll Give You Work. Come To-Morrow. Good-Night, 
   And Good Luck To Your Good Intentions. But Remember, No Nonsense." 
     
     
     
   Here At Last Was A Chance; Here At Last Was Regular Employment. It Was 
   One Step Forward. Would He Be Able To Hold It? This Seemed doubtful On 
   The Morrow After He Had Realized the Nature Of His Surroundings. He Was 
   Set To Work In a Large Room Full Of Men, Boys, And Slatternly-Dressed 
   Girls. He Was Both Scolded and Laughed at For The Inevitable Awkwardness 
   Of A New Beginner, And Soon His Name And History Began To Be Whispered 
   About. During The Noon Recess A Rude Fellow Flung The Epithet Of 
   "Jail-Bird" At Him, And, Of Course, It Stuck Like A Burr. Never In all 
   His Life Had He Made Such An Effort At Self-Control As That Which Kept 
   His Hands Off This Burly Tormentor. 
     
     
     
   He Both Puzzled and Annoyed his Companions. They Knew That He Did Not 
   Belong To Their Class, And His Bearing and Manner Made Them Unpleasantly 
   Conscious Of His Superiority; And Yet All Believed themselves So Much 
   More Respectable Than He, That They Felt It Was A Wrong To Them That He 
   Should Be There At All. Thus He Was Predestined to Dislike And 
   Ill-Treatment. But That He Could Act As If He Were Deaf And Blind To All 
   That They Could Do Or Say Was More Than They Could Understand. With Knit 
   Brows And Firmly-Closed lips He Bent His Whole Mind To The Mastery Of 
   The Mechanical Duties Required of Him, And When They Were Over He Strode 
   Straight To His Humble Lodging-Place. 
     
     
     
   Mr. Growther Watched him Curiously As He Reacted into Lassitude And 
   Despondency After The Strain And Tension Of The Day. 
     
     
     
   "It'S Harder To Stand Than 'Tis To Git Along With Me, Isn'T It?" 
     
     
     
   "Yes, Much Harder." 
     
     
     
   "O Thunder! Better Give It Up, Then, And Try Something Else." 
     
     
     
   "No, It'S My Only Chance." 
     
     
     
   "There'S Plenty Other Things To Do." 
     
     
     
   "Not For Me. These Vulgar Wretches I Am Working With Think It An Outrage 
   That A 'Jail-Bird,' As They Call Me, Contaminates The Foul Air That They 
   Breathe. I May Be Driven Out By Them; But," Setting His Teeth, "I Won'T 
   Give Up This Foothold Of My Own Accord." 
     
     
     
   "You Might Have Been President If You Had Shown Such Grit Before You Got 
   Down." 
     
     
     
   "That'S Not Pleasant To Think Of Now." 
     
     
     
   "I Might 'A Known That; But It'S My Mean Way Of Comfortin' People. 
   A-A-H." 
     
     
     
   Haldane'S New Venture Out Into The World Could Scarcely Have Had A More 
   Painful And Prosaic Beginning; But, As He Said, He Had Gained a 
   "Foothold." 
     
     
     
   There Was One Other Encouraging Fact, Of Which He Did Not Know. Mr. 
   Ivison Sent For The Foreman Of The Room In which Haldane Had Been Set At 
   Work, And Said: 
     
     
     
   "Give The Young Fellow A Fair Chance, And Report To Me From Time To Time 
   How He Behaves; But Say Nothing Of This To Him. If He Gets At His Old 
   Tricks, Discharge Him At Once; But If He Shows The Right Spirit, I Wish 
   To Know It." 
     
     
   
   
   
   Chapter XXXV ("That Sermon Was A Bombshell") 
   The Following Sabbath Morning Smiled so Brightly That One Might Be 
   Tempted to Believe That There Was No Sin And Misery In the World, And 
   That Such A Church As Mrs. Arnot Condemned was An Eminently Proper 
   Organization. As The Congregation Left Their Elegant Homes, And In 
   Elegant Toilets Wended their Way To Their Elegant Church, They Saw 
   Nothing In the Blue Sky And Sunshine To Remind Them Of The Heavy Shadows 
   Brooding Over The Earth. What More Was Needed than That They Should Give 
   An Hour To Their Aesthetic Worship, As They Had Done In the Past When 
   The Weather Permitted, And Then Return To Dinner And A Nap And All The 
   Ordinary Routine Of Life? There Were No "Beasts At Ephesus" To Fight 
   Now. The Times Had Changed, And To Live In this Age Like An Ancient 
   Christian Would Be Like Going To Boston On Foot When One Might Take A 
   Palace Car. Hundreds Of Fully Grown, Perfectly Sane People Filed into 
   The Church, Who Complacently Felt That In attending Service Once Or 
   Twice A Week, If So Inclined, They Were Very Good Christians. And Yet, 
   Strange To Say, There Was A Conspicuous Cross On The Spire, And They Had 
   Named their Church "St. Paul'S." 
     
     
     
   St. Paul! Had They Read His Life? If So, How Came They To Satirize 
   Themselves So Severely? A Dwarf Is The More To Be Pitied if Named after 
   A Giant. 
     
     
     
   It Was Very Queer That This Church Should Name Itself After The 
   Tent-Maker, Who Became All Things To All Men, And Who Said, "I Made 
   Myself Servant Unto All That I Might Gain The More." 
     
     
     
   It Was Very Unfortunate For Them To Have Chosen This Saint, And Yet The 
   Name, Saint Paul, Had A Very Aristocratic Sound In hillaton, And Thus 
   Far Had Seemed peculiarly Fitted to The Costly Edifice On Which It Was 
   Carved. 
     
     
     
   And Never Had The Church Seemed more Stately Than On This Brilliant 
   Sabbath Morning, Never Had Its Elegance And That Of The Worshippers 
   Seemed more In harmony. 
     
     
     
   But The Stony Repose And Calm Of Their Gothic Temple Was Not Reflected 
   In The Faces Of The People. There Was A General Air Of Perturbation And 
   Expectancy. The Peculiar And Complacent Expression Of Those Who Are 
   Conscious Of Being Especially Well Dressed and Respectable Was 
   Conspicuously Absent. Annoyed, Vexed, Anxious Faces Passed into The 
   Vestibule. Knots Of Twos, Threes, And Half-Dozens Lingered and Talked 
   Eagerly, With Emphatic Gestures And Much Shaking Of Heads. Many Who 
   Disliked rough Weather From Any Cause Avoided their Fellow-Members, And 
   Glided hastily In, Looking Worried and Uncomfortable. Between The 
   Managing Officers, Who Had Felicitated themselves On Having Secured a 
   Congregation Containing The _Creme De La Creme_ Of The City, On One 
   Hand, And The Disquieted mr. Blakeman, Who Found The Church Growing 
   Uncomfortably Cold, On The Other, Mrs. Arnot'S Words And Acts And The 
   Minister'S Implied pledge To Bring The Matter Squarely To An Issue, Had 
   Become Generally Known, And A Foreboding as Of Some Great Catastrophe 
   Oppressed the People. If The Truth Were Known, There Were Very General 
   Misgivings; And, Now That The People Had Been Led to Think, There Were 
   Some Uncomfortable Aspects To The Question. Even That August Dignitary 
   The Sexton Was In a Painful Dilemma As To Whether It Would Be Best To 
   Assume An Air Of Offended dignity, Or Veer With These Eddying and 
   Varying Currents Until Sure From What Quarter The Wind Would Finally 
   Blow. He Had Learned that It Was Mrs. Arnot Whom He Had Twice Carelessly 
   Motioned with His Thumb Into A Back Seat, And He Could Not Help 
   Remarking To Several Of The More Conservative Members, That "It Was Very 
   Unjust And Also Unkind In mrs. Arnot To Palm Herself Off On Him As An 
   Ordinary Pusson, When For A Long Time It Had Been The Plainly Understood 
   Policy Of The Church Not To Encourage Ordinary Pussons." 
     
     
     
   But The Rumor That Something Unusual Was About To Take Place At St. 
   Paul'S Brought Thither On This Particular Sabbath All Kinds And 
   Descriptions Of People; And The Dignified functionary Whose Duty It Was 
   To Seat Them Grew So Hot And Flustered with His Unwonted tasks, And Made 
   Such Strange Blunders, That Both He And Others Felt That They Were On 
   The Verge Of Chaos. But The Most Extraordinary Appearing Personage Was 
   No Other Than Mr. Jeremiah Growther; And, As With His Gnarled cane He 
   Hobbled along At Haldane'S Side, He Looked for All The World As If Some 
   Grotesque And Antique Carving Had Come To Life And Was Out For An 
   Airing. Not Only The Sexton, But Many Others, Looked askance At The 
   Tall, Broad-Shouldered youth Of Such Evil Fame, And His Weird-Appearing 
   Companion, As They Walked quite Far Up The Aisle Before They Could Find 
   A Seat. 
     
     
     
   Many Rubbed their Eyes To Be Sure It Was Not A Dream. What Had Come 
   Over The Decorous And Elegant St. Paul'S? When Before Had Its Dim, 
   Religious Light Revealed such Scenes? Whence This Irruption Of Strange, 
   Uncouth Creatures--A Jail-Bird In a Laborer'S Garb, And The Profane Old 
   Hermit, Whom The Boys Had Nicknamed "Jerry Growler," And Who Had Not 
   Been Seen In church For Years. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot, Followed by Many Eyes, Passed quietly Up To Her Pew, And 
   Bowed her Head In prayer. 
     
     
     
   Prayer! Ah! In their Perturbation Some Had Forgotten That This Was The 
   Place Of Prayer, And Hastily Bowed their Heads Also. 
     
     
     
   Mr. Arnot Had Been Engaged in his Business To The Very Steps, And Much 
   Too Absorbed during The Week To Hear Or Heed any Rumors; But As He 
   Walked up The Aisle He Stared around In evident Surprise, And Gave 
   Several Furtive Glances Over His Shoulder After Being Seated. As His 
   Wife Raised her Head, He Leaned toward Her And Whispered: 
     
     
     
   "What'S The Matter With Jeems? For, If I Mistake Not, There Are A Good 
   Many Second-Class Saints Here To-Day." But Not A Muscle Changed in mrs. 
   Arnot'S Pale Face. Indeed, She Scarcely Heard Him. Her Soul Was And Had 
   Been For Several Days In the Upper Sanctuary, In the Presence Of God, 
   Pleading With Him That He Would Return To This Earthly Temple Which The 
   Spirit Of The World Had Seemingly Usurped. 
     
     
     
   When Dr. Barstow Arose To Commence The Service, A Profound Hush Fell 
   Upon The People. Even His Face And Bearing Impressed and Awed them, And 
   It Was Evident That He, Too, Had Climbed some Spiritual Mountain, And 
   Had Been Face To Face With God. 
     
     
     
   As He Proceeded with The Service In tones That Were Deep And Magnetic, 
   The Sense Of Unwonted solemnity Increased. Hymns Had Been Selected which 
   The Choir Could Not Perform, But Must Sing; And The Relation Between The 
   Sacred words And The Music Was Apparent. The Scripture Lessons Were Read 
   As If They Were A Message For That Particular Congregation And For That 
   Special Occasion, And, As The Simple And Authoritative Words Fell On The 
   Ear The General Misgiving Was Increased. They Seemed wholly On Mrs. 
   Arnot'S Side; Or, Rather, She Was On Theirs. 
     
     
     
   When, At Last, Dr. Barstow Rose, Not As A Sacred orator And Theologian 
   Who Is About To _Deliver_ A Sermon, But Rather As An Earnest Man, 
   Who Had Something Of Vital Moment To Say, The Silence Became Almost 
   Oppressive. 
     
     
     
   Instead Of Commencing By Formally Announcing His Text, As Was His 
   Custom, He Looked silently And Steadily At His People For A Moment, Thus 
   Heightening Their Expectancy. 
     
     
     
   "My Friends," He Began Slowly And Quietly, And There Was A Suggestion Of 
   Sorrow In his Tone Rather Than Of Menace Or Denunciation; "My Friends, I 
   Wish To Ask Your Calm And Unprejudiced attention To What I Shall Say 
   This Morning. I Ask You To Interpret My Words In the Light Of The Word 
   Of God And Your Own Consciences; And If I Am Wrong In any Respect I Will 
   Readily Acknowledge It. Upon A Certain Occasion Christ Said To His 
   Disciples, 'Ye Know Not What Manner Of Spirit Ye Are Of'; And He At Once 
   Proved how Widely His Spirit Differed from Theirs. They Accepted the 
   Lesson--They Still Followed him, And Through Close Companionship 
   Eventually Acquired his Merciful, Catholic Spirit. But At This Time They 
   Did Not Understand Him Nor Themselves. Perhaps We Can Best Understand 
   The Spirit We Are Of By Considering His, And By Learning To Know Him 
   Better Whom We Worship, By Whose Name We Are Called. 
     
     
     
   "During The Past Week I Have Been Brought Face To Face With The Christ 
   Of The Bible, Rather Than The Christ Of Theology And Philosophy, Who Has 
   Hitherto Dwelt In my Study; And I Have Learned with Sorrow And Shame 
   That My Spirit Differed widely From His. The Christ That Came From 
   Heaven Thought Of The People, And Had Compassion On The Multitude. I Was 
   Engrossed with My Sermons, My Systems Of Truth, And Nice Interpretations 
   Of Passages That I May Have Rendered more Obscure. But I Have Made A Vow 
   In His Name And Strength That Henceforth I Will No Longer Come Into This 
   Pulpit, Or Go Into Any Other, To Deliver Sermons Of My Own. I Shall No 
   Longer Philosophize About Christ, But Endeavor To Lead You Directly To 
   Christ; And Thus You Will Learn By Comparison What Manner Of Spirit You 
   Are Of, And, I Trust, Become Imbued with His Spirit. I Shall Speak The 
   Truth In love, And Yet Without Fear, And With No Wordy Disguise. 
   Henceforth I Do Not Belong To You But To My Master, And I Shall Present 
   The Christ Who Loved all, Who Died for All, And Who Said To All, 
   'Whosoever Will, Let Him Come!' 
     
     
     
   "You Will Find My Text In the Gospel Of St. John, The Nineteenth Chapter 
   And Fifth Verse: 
     
     
     
   "'Then Came Jesus Forth, Wearing The Crown Of Thorns And The Purple 
   Robe. And Pilate Saith Unto Them, Behold The Man!' 
     
     
     
   "Let Us Behold Him To-Day, And Learn To Know Him And To Know Ourselves 
   Better. If We Discover Any Sad And Fatal Mistake In our Religious Life, 
   Let Us Correct It Before It Is Too Late." 
     
     
     
   It Would Be Impossible To Portray The Effect Of The Sermon That 
   Followed, Coming, As It Did, From A Strong Soul Stirred to Its Depths By 
   The Truth Under Consideration. The People For The Time Being Were Swayed 
   By It And Carried away. What Was Said Was Seen To Be Truth, Felt To Be 
   Truth; And As The Divine Man Stood Out Before Them Luminous In his Own 
   Loving and Compassionate Deeds, Which Manifested his Character And The 
   Principles Of The Faith He Founded, The Old, Exclusive, Self-Pleasing 
   Life Of The Church Shrivelled up As A Farce And A Sham. 
     
     
     
   "In Conclusion," Said Dr. Barstow, "What Was The Spirit Of This Man When 
   He Summoned publicans And Fishermen To Be His Followers? What Was His 
   Spirit When He Laid His Hand On The Leper? What, When He Said To The 
   Outcast, 'Neither Do I Condemn Thee; Go And Sin No More'? What, When To 
   The Haughty Pharisees, The Most Respectable People Of That Day, He 
   Threatened, 'Woe Unto You!' 
     
     
     
   "He Looked after The Rich And Almost Perfect Young Man, By Whom He Was 
   Nevertheless Rejected, And Loved him; He Also Said To The Penitent 
   Thief, 'To-Day Thou Shalt Be With Me In paradise.' His Heart Was As 
   Large As Humanity. Such Was His Spirit.'" 
     
     
     
   After A Moment'S Pause, In which There Was A Hush Of Breathless 
   Expectancy, Dr. Barstow'S Deep Tones Were Again Heard. "God Grant That 
   Henceforth Yonder Doors May Be Open To All Whom Christ Received, And 
   With The Same Welcome That He Gave. If This Cannot Be, The Name Of St. 
   Paul, The Man Who 'Made Himself The Servant Unto All That He Might Gain 
   The More,' Can No Longer Remain Upon This Church Save In mockery. If 
   This Cannot Be, Whoever May Come To This Temple, Christ Will Not Enter 
   It, Nor Dwell Within It.'" 
     
     
     
   The People Looked at Each Other, And Drew A Long Breath. Even Those Who 
   Were Most In love With The Old System Forgot Dr. Barstow, And Felt For 
   The Moment That They Had A Controversy With His Master. 
     
     
     
   The Congregation Broke Up In a Quiet And Subdued manner. All Were Too 
   Deeply Impressed by What They Had Heard To Be In a Mood For Talking as 
   Yet; And Of The Majority, It Should Be Said In justice That, Conscious 
   Of Wrong, They Were Honestly Desirous Of A Change For The Better. 
     
     
     
   During The Sermon Mr. Growther'S Quaint And Wrinkled visage Had Worked 
   Most Curiously, And There Were Times When He With Difficulty Refrained 
   From A Hearty Though Rather Profane Indorsement. 
     
     
     
   On His Way Home He Said To Haldane, "I'Ve Lived like A Heathen On Lord'S 
   Day And All Days; But, By The Holy Poker, I'Ll Hear That Parson 
   Hereafter Every Sunday, Rain Or Shine, If I Have To Fight My Way Into 
   The Church With A Club." 
     
     
     
   A Peculiar Fire Burned in the Young Man'S Eyes And His Lips Were Very 
   Firm, But He Made No Reply. The Man Whose Portraiture He Had Beheld That 
   Day Was A Revelation, And He Hoped that This Divine Yet Human Friend 
   Might Make A Man Of Him. 
     
     
     
   "Well," Remarked mr. Arnot, Sententiously, "That Sermon Was A Perfect 
   Bombshell; And, Mark My Words, It Will Either Blow The Doctor Out Of His 
   Pulpit, Or Some Of The First-Class Saints Out Of Their Pews." 
     
     
     
   But A Serene And Hopeful Light Shone From Mrs. Arnot'S Eyes, And She 
   Only Said, In a Low Tone: 
     
     
     
   "The Lord Is In his Holy Temple." 
     
     
   
   
   
   Chapter XXXVI (Mr. Growther Feeds An Ancient Grudge) 
   The Problem In regard To The Future Of St. Paul'S Church, Which Had So 
   Greatly Burdened dr. Barstow, Was Substantially Solved. Christ Had 
   Obtained control Of The Preacher'S Heart, And Henceforth Would Not Be A 
   Dogma, But A Living Presence, In his Sermons. The Pharisees Of Old Could 
   Not Keep The Multitudes From Him, Though Their Motives For Following Him 
   Were Often Very Mixed. Although The Philosophical Christ Of Theology, 
   Whom Dr. Barstow Had Ably Preached, Could Not Change The Atmosphere Of 
   St. Paul'S, The Christ Of The Bible, The Man Of Sorrows, The Meek And 
   Lowly Nazarene, Could, And The Masses Would Be Tempted to Feel That They 
   Had A Better Right In a Place Sacred to His Worship Than Those Who 
   Resembled him In spirit As Little As They Did In the Pomp Of Their Life. 
     
     
     
   There Would Be Friction At First, And Some Serious Trouble. Mr. Arnot'S 
   Judgment Was Correct, And Some Of The "First-Class Saints" (In Their Own 
   Estimation) Would Be "Blown Out Of Their Pews." St. Paul'S Would 
   Eventually Cease To Be _The_ Fashionable Church _Par Excellence_; 
   And This Fact Alone Would Be Good And Sufficient Reason For A Change On 
   The Part Of Some Who Intend To Be Select In their Associations On Earth, 
   Whatever Relations With The "Mixed multitude" They May Have To Endure In 
   Heaven. But The Warm-Hearted and True-Hearted would Remain; And Every 
   Church Grows Stronger As The Pharisees Depart And The Publicans And 
   Sinners Enter. 
     
     
     
   The Congregation That Gathered at The Evening Service Of The Memorable 
   Sabbath Described in the Previous Chapter Was Prophetic. Many Of The 
   Wealthy And Aristocratic Members Were Absent, Either From Habit Or 
   Disgust. Haldane, Mr. Growther, And Many Who In some Respects Resembled 
   Them, Were Present. "Jeems," The Discriminating Sexton, Had Sagaciously 
   Guessed that The Wind Was About To Blow From Another Quarter, And Was 
   Veering around Also, As Fast As He Deemed it Prudent. "Ordinary Pussons" 
   Received more Than Ordinary Attention, And Were Placed within Earshot Of 
   The Speaker. 
     
     
     
   But The Problem Of Poor Haldane'S Future Was Not Clear By Any Means. It 
   Is True A Desire To Live A Noble Life Had Been Kindled in his Heart, But 
   As Yet It Was Little More Than A Good Impulse, An Aspiration. In the 
   Fact That His Eyes Had Been Turned questioningly And Hopefully Toward 
   The Only One Who Has Ever Been Able To Cope With The Mystery Of Evil, 
   There Was Rich Promise; But Just What This Divine Friend Could Do For 
   Him He Understood As Little As Did The Fishermen Of Galilee. They Looked 
   For Temporal Change And Glory; He Was Looking For Some Vague And 
   Marvellous Change And Exaltation. 
     
     
     
   But The Sabbath Passed, And He Remained his Old Self. Hoping, Longing 
   For The Change Did Not Produce It. 
     
     
     
   It Was One Of Mr. Growther'S Peculiarities To Have A Fire Upon The 
   Hearth Even When The Evenings Were So Warm As Not To Require It. "Might 
   As Well Kinder Git Ourselves Used to Heat," He Would Growl When Haldane 
   Remonstrated. 
     
     
     
   After The Evening Service They Both Lowered at The Fire For Some Time In 
   Silence. 
     
     
     
   "Except Ye Be Converted, And Become As Little Children, Ye Shall Not 
   Enter Into The Kingdom Of Heaven," Had Been Dr. Barstow'S Text; And, As 
   Is Usually The Case, The Necessity Of Conversion Had Been Made Clearer 
   Than Just What Conversion Is; And Many More Than The Disquieted 
   Occupants Of The Quaint Old Kitchen Had Been Sent Home Sorely Perplexed 
   How To Set About The Simple Task Of "Believing." But It Was A Happy 
   Thing For All That They Had Been Awakened to The Fact That Something 
   Must Be Done. After That Sermon None Could Delude Themselves With The 
   Hope That Being Decorous, Well-Dressed worshippers At St. Paul'S Would 
   Be All That Was Required. 
     
     
     
   But Mr. Growther Needed no Argument On This Subject, And He Had Long 
   Believed that His Only Chance Was, As He Expressed it, "Such An 
   Out-And-Out Shakin' To Pieces, And Makin' Over Agin That I Wouldn'T Know 
   Myself." Then He Would Rub His Rheumatic Legs Despondently And Add, "But 
   My Speretual J'Ints Have Got As Stiff And Dry As These Old Walkin' Pins; 
   And When I Try To Git Up Some Good Sort O' Feelin' It'S Like Pumpin' Of 
   A Dry Pump. I Only Feel Real Hearty When I'M A Cussin'. A-A-H!" 
     
     
     
   But The Day'S Experience And Teaching Had Awakened anew In his Breast, 
   As Truly As In haldane'S, The Wish That He Could Be Converted, Whatever 
   That Blessed and Mysterious Change Might Be; And So, With His Wrinkled 
   Face Seamed with Deeper And More Complex Lines Than Usual, The Poor Old 
   Soul Stared at The Fire, Which Was At Once The Chief Source Of His 
   Comfort And The Emblem Of That Which He Most Dreaded. At Last He 
   Snarled: 
     
     
     
   "I'M A Blasted old Fool For Goin' To Meetin' And Gittin' All Riled up 
   So. Here, I Haven'T Had A Comfortable Doze Today, And I Shall Be Kickin' 
   Around All Night With Nothin' Runnin' In my Head But 'Except Ye Be 
   Convarted, Except Ye Be Convarted'; I Wish I Had As Good A Chance Of 
   Bein' Convarted as I Have Of Bein' Struck By Lightnin'." 
     
     
     
   "I Wish I Needed conversion As Little As You," Said Haldane 
   Despondently. 
     
     
     
   "Now Look Here," Snapped the Old Man; "I'M In no Mood For Any Nonsense 
   To-Night. I Want You To Know I Never Have Been Convarted, And I Can 
   Prove It To You Plaguy Quick If You Stroke Me Agin The Fur. You'Ve Got 
   The Advantage Of Me In this Business, Though You Have Been A Hard Cuss; 
   For You Are Young And Kind O' Limber Yet." Then, As He Glanced at The 
   Discouraged youth, His Manner Changed, And In a Tone That Was Meant To 
   Be Kindly He Added, "There, There! Why Don'T You Pluck Up Heart? If I 
   Was As Young As You Be, I'D Get Convarted if It Took Me All Summer." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Shook His Head, And After A Moment Slowly And Musingly Said, As 
   Much To Himself As To The Giver Of This Good Advice: 
     
     
     
   "I'M In the Slough Of Despond, And I Don'T Know How To Get Out. I Can 
   See The Sunny Uplands That I Long To Reach, But Everything Is Quaking 
   And Giving Way Under My Feet. After Listening To Dr. Barstow'S Grand 
   Sermon This Morning, My Spirit Flamed up Hopefully. Now He Has Placed a 
   Duty Directly In my Path That I Cannot Perform By Myself. Mrs. Arnot Has 
   Made It Clear To Me That The Manhood I Need is Christian Manhood. Dr. 
   Barstow Proves Out Of The Bible That The First Step Toward This Is 
   Conversion--Which Seems To Be A Mysterious Change Which I But Vaguely 
   Understand. I Must Do My Part Myself, He Says, Yet I Am Wholly Dependent 
   On The Will And Co-Operation Of Another. Just What Am I To Do? Just When 
   And How Will The Help Come In? How Can I Know That It Will Come? Or How 
   Can I Ever Be Sure That I Have Been Converted?" 
     
     
     
   "O, Stop Splittin' Hairs!" Said Mr. Growther, Testily. "Hanged if I Can 
   Tell You How It'S All Goin' To Be Brought About--Go Ask The Parson To 
   Clear Up These P'Ints For You--But I Can Tell You This Much: When You 
   Git Convarted you'Ll Know It. If You Had A Ragin' Toothache, And It 
   Suddenly Stopped and You Felt Comfortable All Over, Wouldn'T You Know 
   It? But That Don'T Express It. You'D Feel More'N Comfortable; You'D Feel 
   So Good You Couldn'T Hold In. You'D Be Fur Shoutin'; You Wouldn'T Know 
   Yourself. Why, Doesn'T The Bible Say You'D Be A New Critter? There'Ll Be 
   Just Such A Change In your Heart As There Is In this Old Kitchen When We 
   Come In on A Cold, Dark Night And Light The Candles, And Kindle A Fire. 
   I Tell You What 'Tis, Young Man, If You Once Got Convarted your Troubles 
   Would Be Wellnigh Over." 
     
     
     
   Though The Picture Of This Possible Future Was Drawn In such Homely 
   Lines, Haldane Looked at It With Wistful Eyes. He Had Become Accustomed 
   To His Benefactor'S Odd Ways And Words, And Caught His Sense Beneath The 
   Grotesque Imagery. As He Was Then Situated, The Future Drawn By The Old 
   Man And Interpreted by Himself Was Peculiarly Attractive. He Was Very 
   Miserable, And It Is Most Natural, Especially For The Young, To Wish To 
   Be Happy. He Had Been Led to Believe That Conversion Would Lead To A 
   Happiness As Great As It Was Mysterious--A Sort Of Miraculous Ecstasy, 
   That Would Render Him Oblivious Of The Hard And Prosaic Conditions Of 
   His Lot. Through Misfortune And His Own Fault He Possessed a Very 
   Defective Character. This Character Had Been Formed, It Is True, By 
   Years Of Self-Indulgence And Wrong, And Mrs. Arnot Had Asserted that 
   Reform Would Require Long, Patient, And Heroic Effort. Indeed, She Had 
   Suggested that In fighting and Subduing The Evils Of One'S Own Nature A 
   Man Attained the Noblest Degree Of Knighthood. He Had Already Learned 
   How Severe Was The Conflict In which He Had Been Led to Engage. 
     
     
     
   But Might Not This Mysterious Conversion Make Things Infinitely Easier? 
   If A Great And Radical Change Were Suddenly Wrought In his Moral Nature, 
   Would Not Evil Appetites And Propensities Be Uprooted like Vile Weeds? 
   If A "New Heart" Were Given Him, Would Not The Thoughts And Desires 
   Flowing From It Be Like Pure Water From An Unsullied spring? After The 
   "Old Things"--That Is The Evil--Had Passed away, Would Not That Which 
   Was Noble And Good Spring Up Naturally, And Almost Spontaneously? 
     
     
     
   This Was Mr. Growther'S View; And He Had Long Since Learned that The Old 
   Man'S Opinions Were Sound On Most Questions. This Seemed, Moreover, The 
   Teaching Of The Bible Also, And Of Such Sermons As He Could Recall. And 
   Yet It Caused him Some Misgivings That Mrs. Arnot Had Not Indicated more 
   Clearly This Short-Cut Out Of His Difficulties. 
     
     
     
   But Mr. Growther'S Theology Carried the Day. As He Watched the Young 
   Man'S Thoughtful Face He Thought The Occasion Ripe For The "Word In 
   Season." 
     
     
     
   "Now Is The Time," He Said; "Now While Yer Moral J'Ints Is Limber. 
   What'S The Use Of Climbin' The Mountain On Your Hands And Knees When You 
   Can Go Up In a Chariot Of Fire, If You Can Only Git In it?" And He 
   Talked and Urged so Earnestly That Haldane Smiled and Said: 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Growther, You Have Mistaken Your Vocation. You Ought To Have Been A 
   Missionary To The Heathen." 
     
     
     
   "That Would Be Sendin' A Thief To Ketch A Thief. But You Know I'Ve A 
   Grudge Agin The Devil, If I Do Belong To Him; And If I Could Help Git 
   You Out Of His Clutches It Would Do Me A Sight O' Good." 
     
     
     
   "If I Ever Do Get Out I Shall Indeed have To Thank You." 
     
     
     
   "I Don'T Want No Thanks, And Don'T Desarve Any. You'Re Only Giving Me A 
   Chance To Hit The Adversary 'Twixt The Eyes," And The Old Man Added his 
   Characteristic "A-A-H!" In an Emphatic And Vengeful Manner, As If He 
   Would Like To Hit Very Hard. 
     
     
     
   Human Nature Was On The Side Of Mr. Growther'S View Of Conversion. 
   Nothing Is More Common Than The Delusive Hope That Health, Shattered by 
   Years Of Wilful Wrong, Can Be Regained by The Use Of Some Highly 
   Extolled drug, Or By A Few Deep Draughts From Some Far-Famed spring. 
     
     
     
   Haldane Retired to Rest Fully Bent Upon Securing This Vague And Mighty 
   Change As Speedily As Possible. 
     
     
   
   
   
   Chapter XXXVII (Hoping For A Miracle) 
   Mr. Ivison, Haldane'S Employer, Was A Worshipper At St. Paul'S, And, 
   Like Many Others, Had Been Deeply Impressed by The Sermon. Its Influence 
   Had Not Wholly Exhaled by Monday, And, As This Gentleman Was Eminently 
   Practical, He Felt That He Ought To Do Something, As Well As Experience 
   A Little Emotion. Thus He Was Led to Address The Following Note To 
   Haldane: 
     
     
     
   Last Week I Gave You A Chance; This Week I Am Induced to Give You A Good 
   Word. While I Warn You That I Will Tolerate No Weak Dallying With Your 
   Old Temptations, I Also Tell You That I Would Like To See You Make A Man 
   Of Yourself, Or, More Correctly, Perhaps, As Dr. Barstow Would Express 
   It, Be Made A Man Of. If One Wants To Do Right, I Believe There Is Help 
   For Him (Go And Ask The Rev. Dr. Barstow About This); And If You Will Go 
   Right Straight Ahead Till I See You Can Be Depended upon, I Will 
   Continue To Speak Good Words To You And For You, And Perhaps Do More. 
   George Ivison. 
     
     
     
   This Note Greatly Encouraged haldane, And Made His Precarious Foothold 
   Among The World'S Industries Seem More Firm And Certain. The Danger Of 
   Being Swept Back Into The Deep Water Where Those Struggle Who Have No 
   Foothold, No Work, No Place In society Would Not Come From The Caprice 
   Or Forgetfulness Of His Employer, But From His Own Peculiar Temptations 
   And Weaknesses. If He Could Patiently Do His Duty In his Present Humble 
   Position, He Justly Believed that It Would Be The Stepping-Stone To 
   Something Better. But, Having Learned to Know Himself, He Was Afraid Of 
   Himself; And He Had Seen With An Infinite Dread What Cold, Dark Depths 
   Yawn About One Whom Society Shakes Off As A Vile And Venomous Thing, And 
   Who Must Eventually Take Evil And Its Consequences As His Only Portion. 
   The Hot, Reeking apartment Wherein He Toiled was The First Solid Ground 
   That He Had Felt Beneath His Feet For Many Days. If He Could Hold That 
   Footing, The Water Might Shoal So That He Could Reach The Land. It Is 
   True He Could Always Look To His Mother For Food And Clothing If He 
   Would Comply With Her Conditions. But, Greatly Perverted as His Nature 
   Had Been, Food And Clothing, The Maintenance Of A Merely Animal Life, 
   Could No Longer Satisfy Him. He Had Thought Too Deeply, And Had Seen Too 
   Much Truth, To Feed contentedly Among The Swine. 
     
     
     
   But The Temptations Which Eventually Lead To The Swine--Could He 
   Persistently Resist These? Could He Maintain A Hard, Monotonous Routine 
   Of Toil, With No Excitements, No Pleasures, With Nothing That Even 
   Approached happiness? He Dared not Give Way; He Doubted his Strength To 
   Go Forward Alone With Such A Prospect. If Conversion Be A Blessed 
   Miracle By Which A Debased nature Is Suddenly Lifted up, And A Harsh, 
   Lead-Colored, Prosaic World Transfigured into The Vestibule Of Heaven, 
   He Longed to Witness It In his Own Experience. 
     
     
     
   It Was While He Was In this Mood That His Thoughts Recurred to Dr. 
   Marks, The Good Old Clergyman Who Had Been The Subject Of His Rude, 
   Practical Joke Months Before. He Recalled the Sincere, Frank Letter 
   Which Led to Their Evening Interview, And Remembered with A Thrill Of 
   Hope The Strong And Mysterious Emotion That Had Seized upon Him As The 
   Venerable Man Took His Hand In his Warm Grasp, And Said In tones Of 
   Pathos That Shook His Soul, "I Wish I Could Lead You By Loving Force 
   Into The Paths Of Pleasantness And Peace." Wild And Reckless Fool As He 
   Then Was, It Had Been Only By A Decided effort And Abrupt Departure That 
   He Had Escaped the Heavenly Influences Which Seemed to Brood In the 
   Quiet Study Where The Good Man Prayed and Spun The Meshes Of The Nets 
   Which He Daily Cast For Souls. If He Could Visit That Study Again With A 
   Receptive Heart, Might Not The Emotion That He Bad Formerly Resisted 
   Rise Like A Flood, And Sweep Away His Old Miserable Self, And He Become 
   In Truth A "New Creature"? 
     
     
     
   The Thought, Having Been Once Entertained, Speedily Grew Into A Hope, 
   And Then Became Almost A Certainty. He Felt That He Would Much Rather 
   See Dr. Marks Than Dr. Barstow, And That If He Could Feel That Kind, 
   Warm Grasp Again, An Impulse Might Be Given Him Which Even Mrs. Arnot'S 
   Wise And Gentle Words Could Not Inspire. 
     
     
     
   Before The Week Was Over He Felt That Something Must Be Done Either To 
   Soften His Hard Lot Or To Give Him Strength To Endure It. 
     
     
     
   The Men, Boys, And Girls Who Worked at His Side In the Mill Were In 
   Their Natures Like Their Garb, Coarse And Soiled. They Resented the 
   Presence Of Haldane For A Twofold Reason; They Regarded the Intrusion Of 
   A "Jail-Bird" Among Them In the Light Of An Insult; They Were Still More 
   Annoyed, And Perplexed also, That This Disreputable Character Made Them 
   Feel That He Was Their Superior. Hence A System Of Petty Persecution 
   Grew Up. Epithets Were Flung At Him, And Practical Jokes Played upon Him 
   Till His Heart Boiled with Anger Or His Nerves Were Irritated to The 
   Last Degree Of Endurance. More Than Once His Fist Was Clenched to 
   Strike; But He Remembered in time That The Heavier The Blow He Struck, 
   The More Disastrously It Would React Against Himself. 
     
     
     
   After The Exasperating Experiences And Noise Of The Day, Mr. Growther'S 
   Cottage Was Not The Quiet Refuge He Needed. Mr. Growther'S Growl Was 
   Chronic, And It Rasped on Haldane'S Overstrained nerves Like The Filing 
   Of A Saw. Dr. Barstow'S Sermons Of The Previous Sabbath Had Emphatically 
   "Riled" The Old Gentleman, And Their Only Result, Apparently, Was To 
   Make Him More Out-Of-Sorts And Vindictive Toward His Poor, Miserable 
   Little Self Than Ever. He Was So Irascible That Even The Comfortable Cat 
   And Dog Became Aware That Something Unusual Was Amiss, And, Instead Of 
   Dozing Securely, They Learned to Keep A Wary And Deprecatory Eye On 
   Their Master And The Toes Of His Thick-Soled slippers. 
     
     
     
   "I'Ve Been Goin' On Like A Darned old Porkerpine," He Said To Haldane 
   One Evening," And If You Don'T Git Convarted soon You'D Better Git Out 
   Of 
   My Way. If You Was As Meek As Moses And Twice As Good You Couldn'T Stand 
   Me Much Longer;" And The Poor Fellow Felt That There Was Considerable 
   Truth In the Remark. 
     
     
     
   The Mill Closed at An Earlier Hour On Saturday Afternoon, And He 
   Determined to Visit Dr. Marks If He Could Obtain Permission From His 
   Employer To Be Absent A Few Hours On Monday Morning. He Wrote A Note To 
   Mr. Ivison, Cordially Thanking Him For His Encouraging Words, But 
   Adding, Frankly, That He Could Make No Promises In regard To Himself. 
   "All That I Can Say, Is," He Wrote, "That I Am Trying To Do Right Now, 
   And That I Am Grateful To You For The Chance You Have Given Me. I Wish 
   To Get The 'Help' You Suggest In your Note To Me, But, In memory Of 
   Certain Relations To My Old Pastor, Dr. Marks, I Would Rather See Him 
   Than Dr. Barstow, And If You Will Permit Me To Be Absent A Part Of Next 
   Monday Forenoon I Will Esteem It A Great Favor, And Will Trespass On 
   Your Kindness No Further. I Can Go After Mill-Hours On Saturday, And 
   Will Return By The First Train On Monday." 
     
     
     
   Mr. Ivison Readily Granted the Request, And Even Became Somewhat Curious 
   As To The Result. 
     
     
     
   When Mrs. Arnot Had Learned from Haldane The Nature Of His Present 
   Employment, She Had Experienced both Pleasure And Misgivings. That He 
   Was Willing To Take And Try To Do Such Work Rather Than Remain Idle, Or 
   Take What He Felt Would Be Charity, Proved that There Was More Good 
   Metal In his Composition Than She Had Even Hoped; But She Naturally Felt 
   That The Stinging annoyances Of His Position Would Soon Become 
   Intolerable. She Was Not Surprised, Although She Was Somewhat Perplexed, 
   At The Receipt Of The Following Letter: 
     
     
     
   My Dear Mrs. Arnot.--You Have Been Such A True, Kind Friend To Me, And 
   Have Shown So Much Interest In my Welfare, That I Am Led to Give You A 
   Fuller Insight Into My Present Experiences And Hopes. You Know That I 
   Wish To Be A Christian. You Have Made Christian Manhood Seem The Most 
   Desirable Thing That I Can Ever Possess, But I Make Little Or No 
   Progress Toward It. Something Must Be Done, And Quickly Too. Either 
   There Must Be A Great Change In me, Or Else In my Circumstances. As 
   There Is No Immediate Prospect Of The Latter, I Have Been Led to Hope 
   That There Can Be Such A Change In me That I Shall Be Lifted above And 
   Made Superior To The Exasperating annoyances Of My Condition. Yes, I Am 
   Hoping Even Far More. If I Could Only Experience The Marvellous Change 
   Which Dr. Barstow Described so Eloquently Last Sunday Evening, Might I 
   Not Do Right Easily And Almost Spontaneously? It Is So Desperately Hard 
   To Do Right Now! If Conversion Will Render My Steep, Thorny Path 
   Infinitely Easier, Then Surely I Ought To Seek This Change By Every 
   Means In my Power. Indeed, There Must Be A Change In me, Or I Shall Lose 
   Even The Foothold I Have Gained. I Am Subjected, All Day Long, To Insult 
   And Annoyance. At Times I Am Almost Desperate And On The Verge Of 
   Recklessness. Every One Of The Coarse Creatures That I Am Compelled to 
   Work With Is A Nettle That Loses No Chance To Sting Me; And There Is One 
   Among Them, A Big, Burly Fellow, Who Is So Offensive That I Cannot Keep 
   My Hands Off Him Much Longer If I Remain My Old Self. You Also Know What 
   A Reception I Must Ever Expect In the Streets When I Am Recognized. The 
   People Act As If I Were Some Sort Of A Reptile, Which They Must Tolerate 
   At Large, But Can, At Least, Shun With Looks Of Aversion. And Then, When 
   I Get To Mr. Growther'S Cottage I Do Not Find Much Respite. It Seems 
   Like Ingratitude To Write This, But The Good Old Man'S Eccentric Habit 
   Of Berating Himself And The World In general Has Grown Wearisome, To Say 
   The Least. I Want To Be Lifted out Of Myself--Far Above These Petty 
   Vexations And My Own Miserable Weaknesses. 
     
     
     
   Once, Before I Left Home, I Played a Rude Joke On Our Good Old Pastor. 
   Instead Of Resenting It He Wrote Me Such A Kind Letter That I Went To 
   His Study To Apologize. While There His Manner And Words Were Such That 
   I Had To Break Away To Escape A Sudden And Mysterious Influence That 
   Inclined me Toward All That Is Good. I Have Hoped that If I Should Visit 
   Him I Might Come Under That Influence Again, And So Be Made A New And 
   Better Man. 
     
     
     
   I Have Also Another Motive, Which You Will Understand. Mother And I 
   Differ Widely On Many Things, And Always Will; But I Long To See Her 
   Once More. I Have Been Thinking Of Late Of Her Many Kindnesses--O That 
   She Had Been Less Kind, Less Indulgent! But She Cannot Help The Past Any 
   More Than I Can, And It May Do Us Both Good To Meet Once More. I Do Not 
   Think That She Will Refuse To See Me Or Give Me Shelter For A Few Hours, 
   Even Though Her Last Letter Seemed harsh. 
     
     
     
   I Shall Also Be Glad To Escape For A Few Hours From My Squalid And 
   Wretched surroundings. The Grime Of The Sordid Things With Which I Have 
   So Long Been In contact Seems Eating Into My Very Soul, And I Long To 
   Sleep Once More In my Clean, Airy Room At Home. 
     
     
     
   But I Am Inflicting Myself Too Long Upon You. That I Have Ventured to Do 
   So Is Due To Your Past Kindness, Which I Can Only Wonder At, But Cannot 
   Explain. Gratefully Yours, E. Haldane. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Was More Than Curious; She Was Deeply Interested in the 
   Result Of This Visit, And She Hoped and Prayed earnestly That It Might 
   Result In good. But She Had Detected an Element In the Young Man'S 
   Letter Which Caused her Considerable Uneasiness. His Idea Of Conversion 
   Was A Sudden And Radical Change In character That Would Be A Sort Of 
   Spiritual Magic, Contravening all The Natural Laws Of Growth And 
   Development. He Was Hoping To Escape From His Evil Habits And 
   Weaknesses, Which Were Of Long Growth, As The Leper Escaped from His 
   Disease, By A Healing and Momentary Touch. He Would Surely Be 
   Disappointed: Might He Not Also Be Discouraged, And Give Up The Patient 
   And Prayerful Struggle Which The Sinful Must Ever Wage Against Sin In 
   This World? She Trusted, However, That God Had Commenced a Good Work In 
   His Heart, And Would Finish It. 
     
     
     
   Even The Sight Of His Native City, With Its Spires Glistening In the 
   Setting Sun, Moved haldane Deeply, And When In the Dusk He Left The 
   Train, And Walked once More Through The Familiar Streets, His Heart Was 
   Crowded with Pleasant And Bitter Memories, Which Naturally Produced a 
   Softened and Receptive Mood. 
     
     
     
   He Saw Many Well-Remembered faces, And A Few Glanced at Him As If He 
   Suggested one Whom They Had Known. But He Kept His Hat Drawn Over His 
   Eyes, And, Taking advantage Of The Obscurity Of The Night, Escaped 
   Recognition. 
     
     
     
   "It Is Almost Like Coming Back After One Has Died," He Said To Himself. 
   "I Once Thought Myself An Important Personage In this Town, But It Has 
   Got On Better Without Me Than It Would Have Done With Me. Truly, Mrs. 
   Arnot Is Right--It'S Little The World Cares For Any One, And The 
   Absurdest Of All Blunders Is To Live For Its Favor." 
     
     
     
   It Was With A Quickly Beating Heart That He Rang The Bell At The 
   Parsonage, And Requested to Be Shown Up To Dr. Marks' Study. Was This 
   The Supreme Moment Of His Life, And He On The Eve Of That Mysterious, 
   Spiritual Change, Of Which He Had Heard So Much, And The Results Of 
   Which Would Carry Him Along As By A Steady, Mighty Impulse Through 
   Earth'S Trials To Heaven'S Glory? He Fairly Trembled at The Thought. 
     
     
     
   The Girl Who Had Admitted him Pointed to The Open Study Door, And He 
   Silently Crossed its Threshold. The Good Old Clergyman Was Bending Over 
   His Sermon, To Which He Was Giving His Finishing Touches, And The Soft 
   Rays Of The Student'S Lamp Made His White Hair Seem Like A Halo About 
   His Head. 
     
     
     
   The Sacred quiet Of The Place Was Disturbed only By The Quill Of The 
   Writer, Who Was Penning Words As Unworldly As Himself. Another Good Old 
   Divine, With His Bible In his Hand, Looked down Benignantly And 
   Encouragingly At The Young Man From His Black-Walnut Frame. He Was The 
   Sainted predecessor Of Dr. Marks, And The Sanctity Of His Life Of Prayer 
   And Holy Toil Also Lingered in this Study. Old Volumes And Heavy Tomes 
   Gave To It The Peculiar Odor Which We Associate With The Cloister, And 
   Suggested the Prolonged spiritual Musings Of The Past, Which Are So Out 
   Of Vogue In the Hurried, Practical World Of To-Day. This Study Was, 
   Indeed, A Quiet Nook--A Little, Slowly Moving Eddy Left Far Behind By 
   The Dashing, Foaming Current Of Modern Life; And Haldane Felt Impressed 
   That He Had Found The Hallowed place, The True Bethel, Where His Soul 
   Might Be Born Anew. 
   
   
   
   Chapter XXXVIII  (The Miracle Takes Place) 
   "The Body Of My Sermon Is Finished; May The Lord Breathe Into It The 
   Breath Of Life!" Ejaculated dr. Marks, Leaning Back In his Chair. 
     
     
     
   Haldane Now Secured his Attention By Knocking Lightly On The Open Door. 
   The Old Gentleman Arose And Came Forward With The Ordinary Kindly Manner 
   With Which He Would Greet A Stranger. 
     
     
     
   "You Do Not Remember Me," Said Haldane. 
     
     
     
   "I Cannot Say That I Do. My Eyesight Is Not As Good As When I Was At 
   Your Age." 
     
     
     
   "I Am Also The Last One You Expect To See, But I Trust I Shall Not Be 
   Unwelcome When You Know My Motive For Coming. I Am Egbert Haldane, And I 
   Have Hoped that Your Study Would Remain Open, Though Nearly All 
   Respectable Doors Are Closed against Me." 
     
     
     
   "Egbert Haldane! Can I Believe My Eyes?" Exclaimed the Old Clergyman, 
   Stepping Eagerly Forward. 
     
     
     
   "When Last In this Place," Continued the Youth, "I Was Led by Your 
   Generous Forgiveness Of My Rude Behavior Toward You To Say, That If I 
   Ever Wished to Become A Christian I Would Come To You Sooner Than To Any 
   One Else. I Have Come, For I Wish To Be A Christian." 
     
     
     
   "Now The Lord Be Praised! He Has Heard His Servant'S Prayers," Responded 
   Dr. Marks Fervently. "My Study Is Open To You, My Son, And My Heart, 
   Too," He Added, Taking Haldane'S Hand In both Of His With A Grasp That 
   Emphasized his Cordial Words. "Sit Down By Me Here, And Tell Me All That 
   Is On Your Mind." 
     
     
     
   This Reception Was So Much Kinder Than He Had Even Hoped, That Haldane 
   Was Deeply Moved. The Strong, Genuine Sympathy Unsealed his Lips, And In 
   Honest And Impetuous Words He Told The Whole Story Of His Life Since 
   Their Last Interview. The Good Doctor Was Soon Fumbling For His 
   Handkerchief, And As The Story Culminated, Mopped his Eyes, And 
   Ejaculated, "Poor Fellow!" With Increasing Frequency. 
     
     
     
   "And Now," Concluded haldane, "If I Could Only Think That God Would 
   Receive Me As You Have--If He Would Only Change Me From My Miserable 
   Self To What I Know I Ought To Be, And Long To Be--I Feel That I Could 
   Serve Him With Gratitude And Gladness The Rest Of My Life, Even Though I 
   Should Remain In the Humblest Station; And I Have Come To Ask You What I 
   Am To Do?" 
     
     
     
   "He Will Receive You, My Boy; He Will Receive You. No Fears On That 
   Score," Said The Doctor, With A Heartiness That Carried conviction. "But 
   Don'T Ask Me What To Do. I'M Not Going To Interfere In the Lord'S Work. 
   He Is Leading You. If You Wanted a Text Or A Doctrine Explained i'D 
   Venture To Give You My Views; But In this Vital Matter I Shall Leave You 
   In God'S Hands, 'Being Confident Of This Very Thing, That He Which Hath 
   Begun A Good Work In you Will Perform It Until The Day Of Jesus Christ.' 
   I Once Set About Reforming You Myself, And You Know What A Bungle I Made 
   Of It. Now I Believe The Lord Has Taken You In hand, And I Shall Not 
   Presume To Meddle. Bow With Me In prayer That He May Speedily Bring You 
   Into His Marvellous Light And Knowledge." And The Good Man Knelt And 
   Spread His Hands Toward Heaven, And Prayed with The Simplicity And 
   Undoubting Faith Of An Ancient Patriarch. 
     
     
     
   Was His Faith Contagious? Did The Pathos Of His Voice, His Strongly 
   Manifested sympathy, Combine With All That Had Gone Before To Melt The 
   Young Man'S Heart? Or, In answer To The Prayer, Was There Present One 
   Whose Province It Is To Give Life? Like The Wind That Mysteriously Rises 
   And Comes Toward One With Its Viewless, Yet Distinctly Felt Power. 
   Haldane Was Conscious Of Influences At Work In his Heart That Were As 
   Potent As They Were Incomprehensible. Fear And Doubt Were Passing away. 
   Deep Emotion Thrilled his Soul. Nothing Was Distinct Save A Rush Of 
   Feeling Which Seemed to Lift Him Up As On A Mighty Tide, And Bear Him 
   Heavenward. 
     
     
     
   This Was What He Had Sought; This Was What He Had Hoped; This Strong, 
   Joyous Feeling, Welling Up In his Heart Like A Spring Leaping Into The 
   Sunlight, Must Be Conversion. 
     
     
     
   When He Arose From His Knees His Eyes Were Full Of Tears, But A Glad 
   Radiance Shone Through Them, And Grasping The Doctor'S Hand, He Said 
   Brokenly: 
     
     
     
   "I Believe Your Prayer Has Been Answered. I Never Felt So Strangely--So 
   Happy Before." 
     
     
     
   "Come With Me," Cried the Old Man, Impetuously, "Come With Me. Your 
   Mother Must Learn At Once That Her Son, Who 'Was Dead, Is Alive Again';" 
   And A Few Moments Later Haldane Was Once More In the Low Carriage, On 
   His Way, With The Enthusiastic Doctor, To His Old Home. 
     
     
     
   "We Won'T Permit Ourselves To Be Announced," Said The Childlike Old 
   Clergyman As They Drove Up The Gravelled road. "We Will Descend Upon 
   Your Mother And Sisters Like An Avalanche Of Happiness." 
     
     
     
   The Curtains In the Sitting-Room Were Not Drawn, And The Family Group 
   Was Before Them. The Apartment Was Furnished with Elegance And Taste, 
   But The Very Genius Of Dreariness Seemed to Brood Over Its Occupants. 
   The Sombre Colors Of Their Mourning Dresses Seemed a Part Of The Deep 
   Shadow That Was Resting Upon Them, And The Depth And Gloom Of The Shadow 
   Was Intensified by Their Air Of Despondency And The Pallor Of Their 
   Faces. The Younger Daughter Was Reading, But The Elder And The Mother 
   Held Their Hands Listlessly In their Laps, And Their Eyes Were Fixed on 
   Vacancy, After The Manner Of Those Whose Thoughts Are Busy With Painful 
   Themes. 
     
     
     
   Haldane Could Endure But A Brief Glance, And Rushed in, Exclaiming: 
     
     
     
   "Mother, Forgive Me!" 
     
     
     
   His Presence Was So Unexpected and His Onset So Impetuous That The Widow 
   Had No Time To Consider What Kind Of A Reception She Ought To Give Her 
   Wayward Son, Of Whom She Had Washed her Hands. 
     
     
     
   Her Mother-Love Triumphed; Her Heart Had Long Been Sore With Grief, And 
   She Returned his Embrace With Equal Heartiness. 
     
     
     
   His Sisters, However, Had Inherited more Of Their Mother'S 
   Conventionality Than Of Her Heart; And The Fact That This Young Man Was 
   Their Brother Did Not By Any Means Obliterate From Their Minds The Other 
   Facts, That He Had A Very Bad Reputation And That He Was Abominably 
   Dressed. Their Greeting, Therefore, Was Rather Grave And Constrained, 
   And Suggested that There Might Have Been A Death In the Family, And That 
   Their Brother Had Come Home To Attend The Funeral. 
     
     
     
   But The Unworldly Dr. Marks Was Wholly Absorbed in the Blessed truth 
   That The Dead Was Alive And The Lost Found. He Had Followed haldane Into 
   The Apartment, Rubbing His Hands, And Beaming General Congratulation. 
   Believing That The Serene Light Of Heaven'S Favor Rested on The Youth, 
   He Had Forgotten That It Would Be Long Before Society Relaxed its Dark 
   Frown. It Seemed to Him That It Was An Occasion For Great And Unmixed 
   Rejoicing. 
     
     
     
   After Some Brief Explanations Had Been Given To The Bewildered 
   Household, The Doctor Said: 
     
     
     
   "My Dear Madam, I Could Not Deny Myself The Pleasure Of Coming With Your 
   Son, That I Might Rejoice With You. The Lord Has Answered our Prayers, 
   You See, And You Have Reason To Be The Happiest Woman Living." 
     
     
     
   "I Am Glad, Indeed," Sighed the Widow, "That Some Light Is Beginning To 
   Shine Through This Dark And Mysterious Providence, For It Has Been So 
   Utterly Dark And Full Of Mystery That My Faith Was Beginning To Waver." 
     
     
     
   "The Lord Will Net Suffer You To Be Tempted above That You Are Able," 
   Said The Clergyman, Heartily. "When Relief Is Essential It Comes, And It 
   Always Will Come, Rest Assured. Take Comfort, Madam; Nay, Let Your Heart 
   Overflow With Joy Without Fear. The Lord Means Well By This Young Man. 
   Take The Unspeakable Blessing He Sends You With The Gladness And 
   Gratitude Of A Child Receiving Gifts From A Good Father'S Hands. Since 
   He Has Begun The Good Work, He'Ll Finish It." 
     
     
     
   "I Hope So. I Do, Indeed, Hope That Egbert Will Now Come To His Senses, 
   And See Things And Duty In their True Light, As Other People Do," 
   Ejaculated the Widow, Fervently. "If He Had Only Taken The Excellent 
   Advice You First Gave Him Here How Much Better It Would Have Been For Us 
   All! But Now--" A Dreary Sigh Closed the Sentence. 
     
     
     
   "But Now," Responded the Doctor, A Little Warmly, "The Lord Has Saved a 
   Soul From Death, And That Soul Is Your Only Son. It Appears To Me That 
   This Thought Should Swallow Up Every Other; And It Will, When You 
   Realize It," He Concluded, Heartily. "This World And The Fashion Of It 
   Passeth Away. Since All Promises Well For The World To Come, You Have 
   Only Cause For Joy. As For My Excellent Advice, I Was Better Pleased 
   With It At The Time Than The Lord Was. I Now Am Thankful That He Let It 
   Do No More Harm Than It Did." 
     
     
     
   "We Cannot Help The Past, Mother," Said Haldane, Eagerly, "Let Us Turn 
   Our Eyes To The Future, Which Is All Aglow With Hope. I Feel That God 
   Has Forgiven Me, And The Thought Fills My Heart With A Tumult Of Joy. 
   Your Warm Embrace Assures Me That You Have Also Forgiven The Wrong, The 
   Shame, And Sorrow You Have Received at My Hands. Henceforth It Shall Be 
   My Life-Effort That You Receive The Reverse Of All This. I At Last Feel 
   Within Me The Power To Live As A True Man Ought." 
     
     
     
   "I Trust Your Hopes May Be Realized, Egbert; I Do, Indeed; But You Were 
   So Confident Before--And Then We All Know What Followed," Concluded his 
   Mother, With A Shudder. 
     
     
     
   "My Present Feeling, My Present Motives, In no Respect Resemble My 
   Condition When I Started out Before. I Was Then A Conceited fool, 
   Ignorant Of Myself, The World, And The Task I Had Attempted. But Now I 
   Feel That All Is Different. Mother," He Exclaimed with A Rush Of 
   Emotion, "I Feel As If Heaven Had Almost Begun In my Heart! Why, Then, 
   Do You Cloud This Bright Hour With Doubts And Fears?" 
     
     
     
   "Well, My Son, We Will Hope For The Best," Said His Mother, Endeavoring 
   To Throw Off Her Despondency, And Share In the Spirit Which Animated her 
   Pastor. "But I Have Dwelt So Long In sorrow And Foreboding That It Will 
   Require Time Before I Can Recover My Old Natural Tone. These Sudden And 
   Strong Alternations Of Feeling and Action On Your Part Puzzle And 
   Disquiet Me, And I Cannot See Why One Brought Up As You Have Been Should 
   Not Maintain A Quiet, Well-Bred deportment, And Do Right As A Matter Of 
   Course, As Your Sisters Do. And Yet, If Dr. Marks Truly Thinks That You 
   Mean To Do Right From This Time Forward, I Shall Certainly Take Courage; 
   Though How We Are Going To Meet What Has Already Occurred i Hardly See." 
     
     
     
   "I Do, Indeed, Believe That Your Son Intends To Do Right, And I Also 
   Believe That The Lord Intends To Help Him--Which Is Of Far Greater 
   Consequence," Said Dr. Marks. "I Will Now Bid You Good-Night, As 
   To-Morrow Is The Sabbath; And Let Me Entreat You, My Dear Madam, In 
   Parting, To Further By Your Prayer And Sympathy The Good Work Which The 
   Lord Has Begun." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Insisted on Seeing The Old Gentleman Safely Back To His Study. 
   Their Ride Was A Rather Quiet One, Each Being Busy With His Own 
   Thoughts. The Good Man Had Found His Enthusiasm Strangely Quenched in 
   The Atmosphere In which Mrs. Haldane Dwelt, And Found That, In spite Of 
   Himself, He Was Sharing In her Doubts And Fears As To The Future Course 
   Of The Erratic And Impulsive Youth At His Side. He Blamed himself For 
   This, And Tried to Put Doubt Resolutely Away. By A Few Earnest Words He 
   Sought To Show The Young Man That Only As The Grace Of God Was Daily 
   Asked for And Daily Received could He Hope To Maintain The Christian 
   Life. 
     
     
     
   He Now Began To Realize What A Difficult Problem Was Before The Youth. 
   Society Would Be Slow To Give Him Credit For Changed motives And 
   Character, And As Proof Would Take Only Patient Continuance In 
   Well-Doing. The Good Doctor Now More Than Suspected that In his Own Home 
   Haldane Would Find Much That Was Depressing and Enervating. Worse Than 
   All, He Would Have To Contend With An Excitable And Ungoverned nature, 
   Already Sadly Warped and Biased wrongly. "What Will Be The Final 
   Result?" Sighed the Old Gentleman To Himself. But He Soon Fell Back 
   Hopefully On His Belief That The Lord Had Begun A Good Work And Would 
   Finish It. 
     
     
     
   Haldane Listened attentively And Gratefully To All That His Old Friend 
   Had To Say, And Felt Sure That He Could And Would Follow The Advice 
   Given. Never Before Had Right Living Seemed so Attractive, And The Path 
   Of Duty So Luminous. But The Thought That Chiefly Filled him With Joy 
   Was That Henceforth He Would Not Be Compelled to Plod Forward As A Weary 
   Pilgrim. He Felt That He Had Wings; Some Of The Divine Strength Had Been 
   Given Him. He Believed himself Changed, Renewed, Transformed; He Was 
   Confident That His Old Self Had Perished and Passed away, And That, As A 
   New Creature, Ennobling Tendencies Would Control Him Completely. He Felt 
   That Prayer Would Henceforth Be As Natural As Breathing, And Praise And 
   Worship, The Strong And Abiding Instincts Of His Heart. 
     
     
   
   
   
   Chapter XXXIX (Votaries Of The World) 
   When Haldane Returned he Found That His Sisters Had Retired. He Was Not 
   Sorry, For He Wished a Long And Unrestrained talk With His Mother; But 
   That Lady Pleaded that The Events Of The Evening Had So Unnerved her, 
   And That There Was So Much To Be Considered, That She Must Have Quiet. 
   In The Morning They Would Try To Realize Their Situation, And Decide 
   Upon The Best Course To Be Pursued. 
     
     
     
   Even In his Exaltation The Last Suggestion Struck Haldane Unpleasantly. 
   Might Not His Mother Mark Out, And Take As A Test Of His Sincerity, Some 
   Course That Would Accord With Her Ideas Of Right, But Not With His? But 
   The Present Hour Was So Full Of Mystical And Inexplicable Happiness That 
   He Gave Himself Up To It, Believing That The Divine Hands, In which He 
   Believed himself To Be, Would Provide For Him As A Helpless Child Is 
   Cared for. 
     
     
     
   The Mill-People Among Whom He Had Worked the Previous Week Would 
   Scarcely Have Recognized him As He Came Down To Breakfast The Following 
   Morning, Dressed with Taste And Elegance. It Was Evident That His 
   Sisters Could Endure Him With Better Grace Than When Clad In his Coarse, 
   Working Garb, Redolent With The Hitherto Unimagined odors Pertaining To 
   Well-Oiled machinery. They, With His Mother, Greeted him, However, With 
   The Air Of Those Who Are In the Midst Of The Greatest Misfortunes, But 
   Who Hope They See A Coming Ray Of Light. 
     
     
     
   With Their Sincere But Conventional Ideas Of Life He Was, In truth, A 
   Difficult Problem. Nor Can They Be Very Greatly Blamed. This Youth, Who 
   Might Have Been Their Natural Protector Against Every Scandalous And 
   Contemptuous Word, And Whose Arm It Would Have Been Their Pride To Take 
   Before The World, Had Now Such A Reputation That Only An Affection 
   All-Absorbing and Unselfish Would Be Willing To Brave The Curious And 
   Scornful Stare That Follows One Who Had Been So Disgraced. Mrs. Haldane 
   And Her Daughters Were Not Without Natural Affection, But They Were 
   Morbidly Sensitive To Public Opinion. Like Many Who Live Somewhat 
   Secluded from The World, They Imagined that Vague And Dreaded entity Was 
   Giving Them Much More Attention Than It Did. "What Will People Say?" Was 
   A Terrible Question To Them. 
     
     
     
   Nothing Could Be Further From Their Nature Than An Attempt To Attract 
   The World'S Attention By Loud Manners Or Flaunting Dress; But It Was 
   Essential To Their Peace That Good Society Should Regard Them As 
   Eminently Respectable, Aristocratic, And High-Toned--As A Family Far 
   Removed from Vulgar And Ordinary Humanity. That Their Name, In the 
   Person Of A Son And Brother, Had Been Dragged through Courts, Criminal 
   Records, And Jails, Was An Unparalleled disaster, That Grew More 
   Overwhelming as They Brooded over It. It Seemed to Them That The World'S 
   Great Eye Was Turned full Upon Them In scorn And Wonder, And That Only 
   By Maintaining Their Perfect Seclusion, Or By Hiding among Strangers, 
   Could They Escape Its Cruel Glare. 
     
     
     
   After All, Their Feelings Were Only Morbid Developments Of The Instincts 
   Of A Refined womanly Nature; But The Trouble Was, They Had Not The 
   Womanly Largeness Of Heart And Affection Which Would Have Made Them 
   Equal To The Emergency, However Painful. Poor Mrs. Haldane Was One Of 
   Those Unfortunate People Who Always Fall Below The Occasion; Indeed, She 
   Seldom Realized it. Providence Had Now Given Her A Chance To Atone For 
   Much Of Her Former Weakness And Ruinous Indulgence, But Her Little Mind 
   Was Chiefly Engrossed with The Question, What Can We Do To Smooth 
   Matters Over, And Regain Something Like Our Old Standing In society? As 
   The Result Of A Long Consultation With Her Daughters, It Was Concluded 
   That Their Best Course Was To Go Abroad. There They Could Venture Out 
   With Him Who Was The Skeleton Of The Household, Without Having Every One 
   Turn And Look After Them With All Kinds Of Comment Upon Their Lips. 
   After Several Years In europe They Hoped society Would Be Inclined to 
   Forget And Overlook The Miserable Record Of The Past Few Months. 
     
     
     
   That The Young Man Himself Would Offer Opposition To The Plan, And 
   Prefer To Return To The Scene Of His Disgrace, And To His Sordid Toil, 
   Did Not Enter Their Minds. 
     
     
     
   In The Enthusiasm Of His New-Born Faith Haldane Had Determined to Face 
   The Public Gaze, And Hear Dr. Marks Preach. It Is True, He Had Greatly 
   Dreaded the Ordeal--And For His Mother And Sisters, Far More Than For 
   Himself. When He Began To Intimate Something Of This Feeling His Mother 
   Promptly Motioned to The Waitress To Withdraw From The Room. He Then 
   Soon Learned that They Had Not Attended church Since Mrs. Haldane'S 
   Return From Her Memorable Visit To Hillaton, And That They Had No 
   Intention Of Going To-Day. 
     
     
     
   "The Very Thought Makes Me Turn Faint And Sick," Said The Poor, Weak 
   Gentlewoman. 
     
     
     
   "We Should Feel Like Sinking Through The Floor Of The Aisle," Chorused 
   The Pallid Young Ladies. 
     
     
     
   Haldane Ceased partaking Of His Breakfast At Once, And Leaned back In 
   His Chair. 
     
     
     
   "Do You Mean To Say," He Asked gloomily, "That My Folly Has Turned this 
   House Into A Tomb, And That You Will Bury Yourselves Here Indefinitely?" 
     
     
     
   "Well," Sighed the Mother, "If We Live This Wretched life Of Seclusion, 
   Brooding Over Our Troubles Much Longer, Smaller Tombs Will Suffice Us. 
   You See That Your Sisters Are Beginning To Look Like Ghosts, And I'M 
   Sure I Feel That I Can Never Lift Up My Head Again. I Know It Is Said 
   That Time Works Wonders. Perhaps If We Went Abroad For A Few Years, And 
   Then Resided in some Other City, Or In the Seclusion Of Some Quiet 
   Country Place, We Might Escape This--" And Mrs. Haldane Finished with A 
   Sigh That Was Far Worse Than Any Words Could Have Been. After A Moment 
   She Concluded: "But, Of Course, We Cannot Go Out Here, Where All That 
   Has Happened is So Fresh, And Uppermost In every One'S Mind. The More I 
   Think Of It, The More Decided i Am That The Best Thing For Us All Is To 
   Go To Some Quiet Watering-Place In europe, Where There Are But Few, If 
   Any, Americans; And In time We May Feel Differently." 
     
     
     
   Her Son Ate No More Breakfast. He Was Beginning To Realize, As He Had 
   Not Before, That He Was In a Certain Sense A Corpse, Which This Decorous 
   And Exquisitely Refined family Could Not Bury, But Would Hide As Far As 
   Possible. 
     
     
     
   "You Then Expect Me To Go With You To Europe?" He Said. 
     
     
     
   "Certainly. We Could Not Go Without A Gentleman." 
     
     
     
   "That I Scarcely Am Now, Mother, In your Estimation Or In society'S. I 
   Think You Could Get On Better Without Me." 
     
     
     
   "Now, Egbert, Be Sensible." 
     
     
     
   "What Am I To Do In this Secluded european Watering-Place, Where There 
   Are No Americans, And At Which We Are To Sojourn Indefinitely?" 
     
     
     
   "I Am Sure I Have Not Thought. Your Sisters, At Least, Can Venture Out 
   And Get A Breath Of Fresh Air. It Is Time You Thought Of Them Rather 
   Than Of Yourself. You Could Amuse Yourself With The Natives, Or By 
   Fishing and Hunting." 
     
     
     
   "Mother!" He Exclaimed, Impetuously, "I No Longer Desire To Merely Amuse 
   Myself. I Wish To Become A Man, In the Best Sense Of The Word." 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Haldane Evidently Experienced a Disagreeable Nervous Shock At The 
   Sudden Intensity Of His Manner, But She Said, With Rebuking Quietness: 
     
     
     
   "I Am Sure I Wish You To Become Such A Man, Thoroughly Well Bred, And 
   Thoroughly Under Self-Control. It Is My Purpose To Enable You To Appear 
   Like A Perfect Gentleman From This Time Forward, And I Expect That You 
   Will Be One." 
     
     
     
   "What Will I Be But A Well-Dressed nonentity? What Will I Be But A 
   Coward, Seeking To Get Away As Far As Possible From The Place Of My 
   Defeat, And To Hide From Its Consequences?" He Answered, With Sharp, 
   Bitter Emphasis. 
     
     
     
   "Egbert, Your Tendency To Exaggeration And Violent Speech Is More Than I 
   Can Bear In my Weak, Nervous Condition. When You Have Thought This 
   Matter Over Calmly, And Have Realized how I And Your Sisters Feel, You 
   Will See That We Are Right--That Is, If Dr. Marks Is Correct, And You Do 
   Really Wish To Atone For The Past As Far As It Now Can Be Done." 
     
     
     
   The Young Man Paced restlessly Up And Down The Room In an Agitated 
   Manner, Which Greatly Disquieted his Mother And Sisters. 
     
     
     
   "Can You Not Realize," He At Last Burst Out, "That I, Also, Have A 
   Conscience? That I Am No Longer A Child? And That I Cannot See Things As 
   You Do?" 
     
     
     
   "Egbert," Exclaimed his Elder Sister, Lifting Her Hand Deprecatingly, 
   "We Are Not Deaf." 
     
     
     
   "If You Will Only Follow Your Conscience," Continued mrs. Haldane, In 
   Her Low Monotone, "All Will Be Well. It Is Your Being Carried away By 
   Gusts Of Impulse And Violent Passions That Makes All The Trouble. If You 
   Had Followed your Conscience You Would At Once Have Left Hillaton At My 
   Request, And Hidden Yourself In the Seclusion That I Indicated. If You 
   Had Done So, You Might Have Saved yourself And Us From All That Has 
   Since Occurred." 
     
     
     
   "But I Would Have Lost My Self-Respect. I Should Have Done Worse--" 
     
     
     
   "Self-Respect!" Interrupted his Mother, With An Expression Akin To 
   Disgust Flitting across Her Pale Face. "How Can You Use That Word After 
   What Has Happened, And Especially Now That You Are Working among Those 
   Vulgar Factory People, And Living With That Profane Old Creature Who 
   Goes By The Name Of 'Jerry Growler.' To Think That You, Who Bear Your 
   Father'S Name, Should Have Fallen So Low! The Daily And Hourly 
   Mortification Of Thinking Of All This, Here, Where For So Many Years 
   There Was Not A Speck Upon Our Family Reputation, Is More Than Flesh And 
   Blood Can Endure. Our Only Course Now Is To Go Away Where We Are Not 
   Known. Our Best Hope Is To Make You Appear Like What Your Father Meant 
   You Should Be, And Try To Forget That You Have Been Anything Else; And 
   If You Have Any Sense Of Obligation To Us Left You Will Do What You Can 
   To Carry Out Our Efforts. Dr. Marks Thinks You Have Met With 'A Change 
   Of Heart.' I Am Sure Yon Can Prove It In no Better Way Than By A Docile 
   Acquiescence In the Wishes Of One Who Has A Natural Right To Control 
   You, And Whose Teachings," She Added complacently, "Had They Been 
   Followed, Would Have Enabled you To Hold Up Your Head To-Day Among The 
   Proudest In the Land." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Buried his Face In his Hands, And Fairly Groaned, In his 
   Disappointment And Sense Of Humiliation. 
     
     
     
   "Is It Possible," Asked one Of His Sisters "That You Thought That We 
   Could All Go Out To Church To-Day As Usual, And Commence Life To-Morrow 
   Where He Left Off When You First Went Away From Home?" 
     
     
     
   "I Expected nothing Of The Kind," Said Her Brother, Lifting Up A Face 
   That Was Pale From Suppressed feeling; "The Fact Is, I Have Thought 
   Little About All This That Is Uppermost In your Minds. I Have Been All 
   Through The Phase Of Shrinking From The World'S Word And Touch, As If My 
   Whole Being Were A Diseased nerve. While In that Condition I Suffered 
   Enough, God Knows; But Even In the Police Court I Was Not Made To Feel 
   More Thoroughly That I Was A Disgraced criminal Than I Have Been Here, 
   In My Childhood'S Home. Perhaps You Can'T Help Your Feeling; But The 
   Result Is All The Same. Through The Influence Of A Woman Who Belongs To 
   Heaven Rather Than Earth, I Was Led to Forget The World And All About 
   It; I Was Led to Wish To Form A Good Character For Its Own Sake. I 
   Wanted to Be Rid Of The Debasing Vices Of My Nature Which She Had Made 
   Me Hate, And Which Would Separate Me From Such As She Is. I Wanted your 
   Forgiveness, Mother. More Than All, I Wanted god'S Forgiveness, And That 
   Great Change In my Nature Which He Alone Can Bestow. I Felt That Dr. 
   Marks Could Help Me, Because I Believed in him; And He Did Carry Me, As 
   It Were, To The Very Gate Of Heaven. I Expected, At Least, A Little 
   Sympathy From You All, And A God-Speed as I Went Back To My Work 
   Tomorrow. I Even Hoped that You Might Take Me By The Hand, And Say To 
   Those Who Knew Us Here, 'My Son Was Lost, But Is Found. He Wishes To 
   Live A Manly, Christian Life, And All Who Are Christians Should Help 
   Him.' I Find, On The Contrary, That Christ And His Words Are Forgotten; 
   That I Am Regarded as A Hideous And Deformed creature, That Must Be 
   Disguised as Far As Possible, And Spirited off To Some Remote Corner Of 
   The Earth, And There Virtually Buried alive. Thus Different Are The 
   Teachings Of The Bible And The Teachings Of The World. I Thought I Could 
   Not Endure My Hard Lot At Hillaton Any Longer, But I Shall Go Back To It 
   Quite Content." 
     
     
     
   As The Youth Uttered these Words, With His Usual Impetuosity, His Mother 
   Could Only Weep And Tremble In her Weak And Nervous Way; But His Sisters 
   Exclaimed: 
     
     
     
   "Go Back To Your Old Mill-Life At Hillaton!" 
     
     
     
   "Yes, By The First Train, To-Morrow." 
     
     
     
   "Well!" They Chorused, With A Long Breath, But As All Language Seemed 
   Inadequate They Added nothing To Their Exclamation. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Haldane Slowly Wiped her Eyes, And Said, "Egbert Is Excited now, 
   And Does Not Realize How We Feel. After He Has Thought It All Over 
   Quietly He Will See Things In a Different Light, And Will Perceive That 
   He Should Take Counsel From His Mother Rather Than From A Stranger" 
   (With Peculiar Emphasis On This Word). "If He Really Wishes To Do His 
   Duty As A Christian Man, He Will See That The First And Most Sacred 
   Obligations Resting On Him Are To Us And Not To Others, Even Though They 
   May Be More Angelic Than We Are. You Promised last Evening That It Would 
   Be Your Life-Effort To Make Amends For The Wrongs You Have Inflicted 
   Upon Us; And Going Back To Your Old, Sordid Life And Vulgar Associations 
   Would Be A Strange Way Of Keeping This Pledge. I Suggest That We All 
   Retire To Our Rooms, And In the After Part Of The Day We Shall Be 
   Calmer, And Therefore More Rational;" And The Ladies Quietly Glided out, 
   Like Black Shadows. Indeed, They And Their Lives Had Become Little More 
   Than Attenuated shadows. 
     
     
     
   There Is Nothing Which So Thoroughly Depletes And Robs Moral Character 
   Of All Substance--There Is Nothing Which So Effectually Destroys All 
   Robust Individuality--As The Continuous Asking Of The Question, "What 
   Will, People Say?" 
     
     
     
   Poor Haldane Went To His Room, And Paced it By The Hour. He Had Learned 
   Thus Early That The Christian Life Was Not Made Up Of Sacred and 
   Beatific Emotions, Under The Influence Of Which Duty Would Become An 
   Easy, Sun-Illumined path. 
     
     
     
   He Already Was In sore Perplexity As To What His Duty Was In this 
   Instance. Ought He Not To Devote Himself To His Mother And Sisters, And 
   Hope That Time Would Bring a Healthful Change In their Morbid Feeling? 
   Surely What They Asked would Not Seem Hard In the World'S Estimation--A 
   Trip To Europe, And A Life Of Luxurious Ease And Amusement--For Society 
   Would Agree With His Mother, That He Could Be As Good And Christian-Like 
   As He Pleased in the Meantime. The Majority Would Say That If He Could 
   In Part Make Amends By Acquiescence In so Reasonable A Request, And One 
   That Promised so Much Of Pleasure And Advantage To Himself, He Ought 
   Certainly To Yield. 
     
     
     
   But All That Was Good And Manly In the Young Fellow'S Nature Rose Up 
   Against The Plan. In the First Place, He Instinctively Felt That His 
   Mother And Sisters' Views On Nearly All Subjects Would Be Continually At 
   Variance With His Own, Since They Were Coming To Look At Life From Such 
   Totally Different Standpoints. He Also Believed that He Would Be An 
   Ever-Present Burden And Source Of Mortification To Them. As A Child And 
   A Boy He Had Been Their Idol. They Had Looked forward To The Time When 
   He, With Irreproachable Manners And Reputation, Would Become Their 
   Escort In the Exclusive Circles In which They Were Entitled to Move. Now 
   He Was And Would Continue To Be The Insuperable Bar To Those Circles; 
   And By Their Sighs And Manner He Would Be Continually Reminded of This 
   Fact. Fallen Idols Are A Perpetual Offence To Their Former Worshippers, 
   As They Ever Remind Of The Downfall Of Towering Hopes. 
     
     
     
   With All His Faults, Haldane Had Too Much Spirit To Go Through Life As 
   One Who Must Be Tolerated, Endured, Kept In the Background, And 
   Concerning Whom No Questions Must Be Asked. 
     
     
     
   He Did Think The Matter Over Long And Carefully, And Concluded that Even 
   For His Mother And Sisters' Sake It Would Be Best That They Should Live 
   Apart. If He Could Thoroughly Retrieve His Character Where He Had Lost 
   It, They Would Be Reconciled to Him; If He Could Not, He Would Be Less 
   Of A Burden And A Mortification Absent Than Present. 
     
     
     
   When He Considered his Own Feelings, The Thought Of Skulking and Hiding 
   Through Life Made His Cheek Tingle With Shame And Disgust. Conscience 
   Sided with His Inclination To Go Back To His Old, Hard Fight At 
   Hillaton; And It Also Appeared to Him That He Could There Better 
   Maintain A Christian Life, In spite Of All The Odds Against Him, Than By 
   Taking The Enervating Course Marked out By His Mother. He Also 
   Remembered, With A Faint Thrill Of Hope, That Whatever Recognition He 
   Could Get At Hillaton As A Changed, A Better Man, It Would Be Based on 
   The Rock Of Truth. 
     
     
     
   He Therefore Concluded to Go Back As He Had Intended, And With The 
   Decision Came His Former, Happy, Mystical Feeling, Welling Up In his 
   Heart Like The Sweet Refreshing Waters Of A Spring, The Consciousness Of 
   Which Filled his Heart With Courage And Confidence As To The Future. 
     
     
     
   "Surely," He Exclaimed, "I Am A Changed, A Converted man. These Strange, 
   Sweet Emotions, This Unspeakable Gladness Of Heart In the Midst Of So 
   Much That Is Painful And Distracting, Prove That I Am. I Have Not Taken 
   This Journey In vain." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Met Only His Sisters At Dinner, For The Scene Of The Morning Had 
   Prostrated his Mother With A Nervous Headache. In spite Of His Efforts, 
   It Was A Constrained and Dismal Affair, And All Were Glad When It Was 
   Over. 
     
     
     
   In The Evening They All Met In mrs. Haldane'S Room, And The Young Man 
   Told Them His Decision So Firmly And Quietly That, While They Were Both 
   Surprised and Angry, They Saw It Was Useless To Remonstrate. He Next 
   Drew Such A Dreary Picture Of The Future As They Had Designed it, That 
   They Were Half Inclined to Think He Was Right, And That His Presence 
   Would Be A Greater Source Of Pain Than Of Comfort To Them. He Also 
   Convinced them That It Would Be Less Embarrassing For Them To Go To 
   Europe Alone Than With His Escort, And That The Plan Of Going abroad 
   Need not Be Given Up. 
     
     
     
   But Mrs. Haldane Was Strenuous On The Point That He Should Leave 
   Hillaton, Accept Of Her Old Offer, And Live A Quiet, Respectable Life In 
   Some Retired place Where He Was Not Known. 
     
     
     
   "I Will Not Have It Said," She Persisted, "That My Son Is Working as A 
   Common Factory Hand, Nor Will I Have Our Name Associated with That 
   Wretched old Creature Whose Profanity And General Outlandishness Are The 
   Town-Talk And The Constant Theme Of Newspaper Squibs. You At Least Owe 
   It To Us To Let This Scandal Die Out As Speedily As Possible. If You 
   Will Comply With These Most Reasonable Requirements, I Will See That You 
   Have An Abundant Support. If You Will Not, I Have No Evidence Of A 
   Change In your Character; Nor Can I See Any Better Way Than To Leave You 
   To Suffer The Consequences Of Your Folly Until You Do Come To Your 
   Senses." 
     
     
     
   "Mother, Do You Think A Young Fellow Of My Years And Energy Could Go To 
   An Out-Of-The-Way Place, And Just Mope, Eat, And Sleep For The Sake Of 
   Being Supported? I Would Rather Starve First. I Fear We Shall Never 
   Understand Each Other; And I Have Reached that Point In life When I Must 
   Follow My Own Conscience. I Shall Leave To-Morrow Morning Before Any Of 
   You Are Up; And In my Old Working Clothes. Good-By;" And Before They 
   Could Realize It He Had Kissed them And Left The Room. 
     
     
     
   They Weakly Sighed as Over The Inevitable; But One Of His Sisters Said, 
   "He Will Be Glad Enough To Come To Your Terms Before Winter." 
     
   
   
   
   Chapter XL (Human Nature) 
   At An Early Hour Haldane, True To His Purpose, Departed from The Home Of 
   His Childhood In the Guise Of A Laborer, As He Had Come. His Mother 
   Heard His Step On The Stairs, For She Had Passed a Sleepless Night, 
   Agitated by Painful Emotions. She Wished to Call Him Back; She Grieved 
   Over His Course As A "Dark And Mysterious Providence," As A Misfortune 
   Which, Like Death, Could Not Be Escaped; But With The Persistence Of A 
   Little Mind, Capable Of Taking But A Single And Narrow View, She Was 
   Absolutely Sure She Was Right In her Course, And That Nothing But Harsh 
   And Bitter Experience Would Bring Her Wayward Son To His Senses. 
     
     
     
   Nor Did It Seem That The Harsh Experience Would Be Wanting, For The 
   Morning Was Well Advanced when He Reached his Place Of Work, And He 
   Received a Severe Reprimand From The Foreman For Being So Late. His 
   Explanation, That He Had Received permission To Be Absent, Was 
   Incredulously Received. It Also Seemed that Gibes, Taunts, And Sneers 
   Were Flung At Him With Increasing Venom By His Ill-Natured associates, 
   Who Were Vexed that They Had Not Been Able To Drive Him Away By Their 
   Persecutions. 
     
     
     
   But The Object Of Their Spite Was Dwelling In a World Of Which They Knew 
   Nothing, And In which They Had No Part, And, Almost Oblivious Of Their 
   Existence, He Performed his Mechanical Duty In almost Undisturbed 
   Serenity. 
     
     
     
   Mr. Growther Welcomed him Back Most Heartily And With An Air Of Eager 
   Expectation, And When Haldane Briefly But Graphically Narrated his 
   Experience, He Hobbled up And Down The Room In a State Of Great 
   Excitement. 
     
     
     
   "You'Ve Got It! You'Ve Got It! And The Genuine Article, Too, As Sure As 
   My Name Is Jeremiah Growther!" He Exclaimed; "I'D Give The Whole Airth, 
   And Anything Else To Boot, That Was Asked, If I Could Only Git Religion. 
   But It'S No Use For Me To Think About It; I'M Done, And Cooled off, And 
   Would Break Inter Ten Thousand Pieces If I Tried to Change Myself. I 
   Couldn'T Feel What You Feel Any More Than I Could Run And Jump As You 
   Kin. My Moral J'Ints Is As Stiff As Hedge-Stakes. If I Tried to Git Up A 
   Little Of Your Feelin', It Would Be Like Tryin' To Hurry Along The 
   Spring By Buildin' A Fire On The Frozen Ground. It Would Only Make One 
   Little Spot Soft And Sloppy; The Fire Would Soon Go Out: Then It Would 
   Freeze Right Up Agin. Now, With You It'S Spring all Over; You Feel 
   Tender And Meller-Like, And Everything Good Is Ready To Sprout. Well, 
   Well! If I Do Have To Go To Old Nick At Last, I'M Powerful Glad He'S Had 
   This Set-Back In your Case." 
     
     
     
   Long And Earnestly Did Haldane Try To Reason His Quaint Friend Out Of 
   His Despairing Views Of Himself. At Last The Old Man Said Testily: 
     
     
     
   "Now, Look Here; You'Re Too New-Fledged a Saint To Instruct A Seasoned 
   And Experienced old Sinner Like Me. You Don'T Know Much About The Lord'S 
   Ways Yet, And I Know All About The Devil'S Ways. Because You'Ve Got Out 
   Of His Clutches (And I'M Mighty Glad You Have) You Needn'T Make Light Of 
   Him, And Take Liberties With Him As If He Was Nobody, 'Specially When 
   Scripter Calls Him 'A Roarin' Lion.' If I Was As Young As You Be, I'D 
   Make A Dead Set To Git Away From Him; But After Tryin' More Times Than 
   You'Ve Lived years, I Know It Ain'T No Use. I Tell You I Can'T Feel As 
   You Feel, Any More Than You Can Squeeze Water Out Of Them Old Andirons. 
   A-A-H!" 
     
     
     
   Haldane Was Silent, Feeling That The Old Man'S Spiritual Condition Was 
   Too Knotty A Problem For Him To Solve. 
     
     
     
   After A Few Moments Mr. Growther Added, In a Voice That He Meant To Be 
   Very Solemn And Impressive: 
     
     
     
   "But I Want You To Enjoy Your Religious Feelin'S All The Same. I Will 
   Listen To All The Scripter Readin' And Prayin' You'Re Willin' To Do, 
   Without Makin' Any Disturbance. Indeed, I Think I Will Enjoy My Wittles 
   More, Now That An Honest Grace Can Be Said Over 'Em. An' When You Read 
   The Bible, You Needn'T Read The Cussin' Parts, If Yer Don'T Want To. 
   I'Ll Read 'Em To Myself Hereafter. I'Ll Give You All The Leeway That An 
   Old Curmudgeon Like Myself Kin; And I Expect To Take A Sight O' Comfort 
   In Seein' You Goin' On Your Way Rejoicin'." 
     
     
     
   And He Did Seem To Take As Much Interest In the Young Man'S Progress And 
   New Spiritual Experiences As If He Alone Were The One Interested. His 
   Efforts To Control His Irritability And Profanity Were Both Odd And 
   Pathetic, And Haldane Would Sometimes Hear Him Swearing Softly To 
   Himself, With Strange Contortions Of His Wrinkled face, When In former 
   Times He Would Have Vented his Spite In the Harshest Tones. 
     
     
     
   Haldane Wrote Fully To Mrs. Arnot Of His Visit To His Native City And 
   Its Happy Results, And Enlarged upon His Changed feelings As The Proof 
   That He Was A Changed man. 
     
     
     
   Her Reply Was Prompt And Was Filled with The Warmest Congratulations And 
   Expressions Of The Sincerest Sympathy. It Also Contained these Words: 
     
     
     
   "I Fear That You Are Dwelling Too Largely Upon Your Feelings And 
   Experiences, And Are Giving To Them A Value They Do Not Possess. Not 
   That I Would Undervalue Them--They Are Gracious Tokens Of God'S Favor; 
   But They Are Not The Grounds Of Your Salvation And Acceptance With God." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Did Not Believe That They Were--He Had Been Too Well Taught For 
   That--But He Regarded them As The Evidences That He Was Accepted, That 
   He Was A Christian; And He Expected them To Continue, And To Bear Him 
   Forward, And Through And Over The Peculiar Trials Of His Lot, As On A 
   Strong And Shining Tide. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Also Stated that She Was Just On The Eve Of Leaving Home For 
   A Time, And That On Her Return She Would See Him And Explain More Fully 
   Her Meaning. 
     
     
     
   In Conclusion, She Wrote: "I Think You Did What Was Right And Best In 
   Returning To Hillaton. At Any Rate, You Have Reached that Age When You 
   Must Obey Your Own Conscience, And Can No Longer Place The 
   Responsibility Of Your Action Upon Others. But, Remember, That You Owe 
   To Your Mother The Most Delicate Forbearance And Consideration. You 
   Should Write To Her Regularly, And Seek To Prove That You Are Guided by 
   Principle Rather Than Impulse. Your Mother Has Much Reason To Feel As 
   She Does, And Nothing Can Excuse You From The Sacred duties You Owe To 
   Her." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Did Write As Mrs. Arnot Suggested. In a Few Days He Received the 
   Following Letter From His Mother: 
     
     
     
   "We Shall Sail For Europe As Soon As We Can Get Ready For The Journey. 
   Our Lawyer Is Making all The Necessary Arrangements For Us. I Will Leave 
   Funds With Him, And Whenever You Are Ready In good Faith To Accept My 
   Offer, Leave Hillaton, And Live So That This Scandal Can Die Out, You 
   Can Obtain From Him The Means Of Living Decently And Quietly. As It Is, 
   I Live In daily Terror Lest You Again Do Something Which Will Bring Our 
   Name Into The Hillaton Papers; And, Of Course, Everything Is Copied by 
   The Press Of This City. Will The Time Ever Come When You Will Consider 
   Your Mother'S And Sisters' Feelings?" 
     
     
     
   For A Time All Went As Well As Could Be Expected in the Trying 
   Circumstances Of Haldane'S Life. His Prayers For Strength And Patience 
   Were At First Earnest, And Their Answers Seemed assured--So Assured, 
   Indeed, That In times Of Haste And Weariness Prayer Eventually Came To 
   Be Hurried or Neglected. Before He Was Aware Of It, Feeling Began To Ebb 
   Away. He At Last Became Troubled, And Then Alarmed, And Made Great 
   Effort To Regain His Old, Happy Emotions And Experiences; But, Like An 
   Outgoing Tide, They Ebbed steadily Away. 
     
     
     
   His Face Indicated his Disquiet And Anxiety, For He Felt Like One Who 
   Was Clinging To A Rope That Was Slowly Parting, Strand By Strand. 
     
     
     
   Keen-Eyed mr. Growther Watched him Closely, And Was Satisfied that 
   Something Was Amiss. He Was Much Concerned, And Took Not A Little Of The 
   Blame Upon Himself. 
     
     
     
   "How Can A Man Be A Christian, Or Anything Else That'S Decent, When He 
   Keeps Such Cussed company As I Be?" He Muttered. "I S'Pose I Kinder 
   Pisen And Wither Up His Good Feelin'S Like A Sulphuric Acid Fact'Ry." 
     
     
     
   One Evening He Exclaimed to Haldane, "I Say, Young Man, You Had Better 
   Pull Out O' Here." 
     
     
     
   "What Do You Mean?" 
     
     
     
   "I'Ll Give You A Receipt In full And A Good Character, And Then You Look 
   For A Healthier Boardin'-Place." 
     
     
     
   "Ah, I See! You Wish To Be Rid Of Me?" 
     
     
     
   "No, You Don'T See, Nuther. I Wish You To Be Rid Of Me." 
     
     
     
   "Of Course, If You Wish Me To Go, I'Ll Go At Once," Said Haldane, In a 
   Despondent Tone. 
     
     
     
   "And Go Off At Half-Cock Into The Bargain? I Ain'T One Of The Kind, You 
   Know, That Talks Around Robin Hood'S Barn. I Go Straight In at The Front 
   Door And Out At The Back. It'S My Rough Way Of Coming To The P'Int At 
   Once. I Kin See That You'Re Runnin' Behind In speret'Al Matters, And I 
   Believe That My Cussedness Is Part To Blame. You Don'T Feel Good As You 
   Used to. It Would Never Do To Git Down At The Heel In these Matters, 
   'Cause The Poorest Timber In the Market Is Yer Old Backsliders. I'D 
   Rather Be What I Am Than Be A Backslider. The Right Way Is To Take These 
   Things In time, Before You Git Agoin' Down Hill Too Fast. It Isn'T That 
   I Want To Git Rid Of You At All. I'Ve Kinder Got Used to You, And Like 
   To Have You 'Round 'Mazingly; But I Don'T S'Pose It'S Possible For You 
   To Feel Right And Live With Me, And So You Had Better Cut Stick In time, 
   For You Must Keep A-Feelin' Good And Pi'Us-Like, My Boy, Or It'S All Up 
   With You." 
     
     
     
   "Then You Don'T Want Me To Go For The Sake Of Your Own Comfort?" 
     
     
     
   "Not A Bit Of It. I Only Want You To Git Inter A Place That Isn'T So 
   Morally Pisened as This, Where I Do So Much Cussin'; For I Will And Must 
   Cuss As Long As There'S An Atom Left Of Me As Big As A Head Of A Pin. 
   A-A-H!" 
     
     
     
   "Then I Prefer To Take My Chances With You To Going anywhere Else." 
     
     
     
   "Think Twice." 
     
     
     
   "I Have Thought More Than Twice." 
     
     
     
   "Then Yer Blood Be On Yer Own Head," Said Mr. Growther With Tragic 
   Solemnity, As If He Were About To Take Haldane'S Life. "My Skirts Is 
   Clear After This Warnin'." 
     
     
     
   "Indeed they Are. You Haven'T Done Me A Bit Of Harm." 
     
     
     
   "Where Does The Trouble Come From Then? Who Is A-Harmin' You?" 
     
     
     
   "Well, Mr. Growther," Said Haldane, Wearily, "I Hardly Know What Is The 
   Matter. I Am Losing Zest And Courage Unaccountably. My Old, Happy And 
   Hopeful Feelings Are About All Gone, And In their Place All Sorts Of 
   Evil Thoughts Seem To Be Swarming Into My Mind. I Have Tried to Keep All 
   This To Myself, But I Have Become So Wretched that I Must Speak. Mrs. 
   Arnot Is Away, Or She Might Help Me, As She Ever Does. I Wish That I 
   Felt Differently; I Pray That I May, But In spite Of All I Seem Drifting 
   Back To My Old Miserable Self. Every Day I Fear That I Shall Have 
   Trouble At The Mill. When I Felt So Strong And Happy I Did Not Mind What 
   They Said. One Day I Was Asked by A Workman, Who Is Quite A Decent 
   Fellow, How I Stood It All? And I Replied that I Stood It As Any 
   Well-Meaning Christian Man Could. My Implied assertion That I Was A 
   Christian Was Taken Up As A Great Joke, And Now They Call Me The 'Pi'Us 
   Jail-Bird.' As Long As I Felt At Heart That I Was A Christian, I Did Not 
   Care; But Now Their Words Gall Me To The Quick. I Do Not Know What To 
   Think. It Seems To Me That If Any One Ever Met With A Change I Did. I'M 
   Sure I Wish To Feel Now As I Did Then; But I Grow Worse Every Day. I Am 
   Losing Self-Control And Growing Irritable. This Evening, As I Passed 
   Liquor Saloons On My Way Home, My Old Appetite For Drink Seemed as 
   Strong As Ever. What Does It All Mean?" 
     
     
     
   Mr. Growther'S Wrinkled visage Worked curiously, And At Last He Said In 
   A Tone And Manner That Betokened the Deepest Distress: 
     
     
     
   "I'M Awfully Afeerd You'Re A-Backslidin'." 
     
     
     
   "I Wish I Had Never Been Born," Exclaimed the Youth, Passionately, "For 
   I Am A Curse To Myself And All Connected with Me, I Know I Shall Have 
   Trouble With One Man At The Mill. I Can See It Coming, And Then, Of 
   Course, I Shall Be Discharged. I Seem Destined to Defeat In this My Last 
   Attempt To Be A Man, And I Shall Never Have The Courage Or Hope To Try 
   Again. If I Do Break Down Utterly, I Feel As If I Will Become A Very 
   Devil Incarnate. O! How I Wish That Mrs. Arnot Was Home." 
     
     
     
   "Now This Beats Me All Out," Said Mr. Growther, In great Perplexity. "A 
   While Ago You Felt Like A Saint And Acted like One, Now You Talk And Act 
   As If Old Nick And All His Imps Had Got A Hold On Ye. How Do You Explain 
   All This, For It Beats Me?" 
     
     
     
   "I Don'T And Can'T Explain. But Here Are The Facts, And What Are You 
   Going To Do With Them?" 
     
     
     
   "I Ain'T A-Goin' To Do Nothin' With 'Em Except Cuss 'Em; And That'S All 
   I Kin Do In any Case. You'Ve Got Beyond My Depth." 
     
     
     
   The Sorely Tempted youth Could Obtain But Little Aid And Comfort, 
   Therefore, From His Quaint Old Friend, And, Equally Perplexed and Unable 
   To Understand Himself, He Sought To Obtain Such Rest As His Disquieted 
   Condition Permitted. 
     
     
     
   As A Result Of Wakefulness In the Early Part Of The Night, He Slept Late 
   The Following Morning, And Hastened to His Work With Scarcely A Mouthful 
   Of Breakfast. He Was Thus Disqualified, Physically As Well As Mentally, 
   For The Ordeal Of The Day. 
     
     
     
   He Was A Few Minutes Behind Time, And A Sharp Reprimand From The Foreman 
   Rasped his Already Jangling Nerves. But He Doggedly Set His Teeth And 
   Resolved to See And Hear Nothing Save That Which Pertained to His Work. 
     
     
     
   He Might Have Kept His Resolve Had There Been Nothing More To Contend 
   With Than The Ordinary Verbal Persecution. But Late In the Afternoon, 
   When He Had Grown Weary From The Strain Of The Day, His Special 
   Tormentor, A Burly Irishman, Took Occasion, In passing, To Push Him 
   Rudely Against A Pert And Slattern Girl, Who Also Was Foremost In the 
   Tacit League Of Petty Annoyance. She Acted as If The Contact Of 
   Haldane'S Person Was A Purposed insult, And Resented it By A Sharp Slap 
   Of His Face. 
     
     
     
   Her Stinging Stroke Was Like A Spark To A Magazine; But Paying No Heed 
   To Her, He Sprang Toward Her Laughing ally With Fierce Oaths Upon His 
   Lips, And By A Single Blow Sent Him Reeling To The Floor. The Machinery 
   Was Stopped sharply, As Far As Possible, By The Miscellaneous 
   Workpeople, To Whom A Fight Was A Boon Above Price, And With Shrill And 
   Clamorous Outcries They Gathered round The Young Man Where He Stood, 
   Panting, Like A Wounded animal At Bay. 
     
     
     
   His Powerful Antagonist Was Speedily Upon His Feet, And At Once Made A 
   Rush For The Youth Who Had So Unexpectedly Turned upon Him; And Though 
   He Received another Heavy Blow, His Onset Was So Strong That He Was Able 
   To Close With Haldane, And Thus Made The Conflict A Mere Trial Of Brute 
   Force. 
     
     
     
   As Haldane Afterward Recalled the Scene, He Was Conscious That At The 
   Time He Felt Only Rage, And A Mad Desire To Destroy His Opponent. 
     
     
     
   In Strength They Were Quite Evenly Matched, And After A Moment'S 
   Struggle Both Fell Heavily, And Haldane Was Able To Disengage Himself. 
   As The Irishman Rose, And Was About To Renew The Fight, He Struck Him So 
   Tremendous A Blow On The Temple That The Man Went To The Floor As If 
   Pierced by A Bullet, And Lay There Stunned and Still. 
     
     
     
   When Haldane Saw That His Antagonist Did Not Move, Time Was Given Him To 
   Think; He Experienced a Terrible Revulsion. He Remembered his Profanity 
   And Brutal Rage, He Felt That He Had Broken Down Utterly. He Was 
   Overwhelmed by His Moral Defeat, And Covering His Face With His Hands, 
   He Groaned "Lost, Lost!" 
     
     
     
   "By Jocks," Exclaimed a Rude, Half-Grown Fellow, "That Clip Would Have 
   Felled an Ox." 
     
     
     
   "Do You Think He'S Dead?" Asked the Slattern Girl, Now Thoroughly 
   Alarmed at The Consequences Of The Blow She Had Given. 
     
     
     
   "Dead!" Cried haldane, Catching The Word, And, Pushing all Aside, He 
   Knelt Over His Prostrate Foe. 
     
     
     
   "Water, Bring Water, For God'S Sake!" He Said Eagerly, Lifting Up The 
   Unconscious Man. 
     
     
     
   It Was Brought And Dashed in his Face. A Moment Later, To Haldane'S 
   Infinite Relief He Revived, And After A Bewildered stare At The Crowd 
   Around Him, Fixed his Eyes On The Youth Who Had Dealt The Blow, And Then 
   A Consciousness Of All That Had Occurred seemed to Return. He Showed his 
   Teeth In impotent Rage For A Moment, As Some Wild Animal Might Have 
   Done, And Then Rose Unsteadily To His Feet. 
     
     
     
   "Go Back To Your Work, All On Ye," Thundered the Foreman, Who, Now That 
   The Sport Was Over, Was Bent On Making a Great Show Of His Zeal; "As For 
   You Two Bull-Dogs, You Shall Pay Dearly For This; And Let Me Say To You, 
   Mister Haldane, That The Pious Dodge Won'T Answer Any Longer." 
     
     
     
   A Moment Later, With The Exception Of Flushed faces And Excited 
   Whisperings, The Large And Crowded apartment Wore Its Ordinary Aspect, 
   And The Machinery Clanked on As Monotonously As Ever. 
     
     
     
   Almost As Mechanically Haldane Moved in the Routine Of His Labor, But 
   The Bitterness Of Despair Was In his Heart. 
     
     
     
   He Forgot That He Would Probably Be Discharged that Day; He Forgot That 
   A Dark And Uncertain Future Was Before Him. He Only Remembered his Rage 
   And Profanity, And They Seemed to Him Damning Proofs That All He Had 
   Felt, Hoped, And Believed was Delusion. 
     
   
   
   
   Chapter XLI (Mrs. Arnot'S Creed) 
   When Haldane Entered the Cottage That Evening His Eyes Were Bloodshot 
   And His Face So Haggard That Mr. Growther Started out Of His Chair, 
   Exclaiming: "Lord A' Massy! What'S The Matter?" 
     
     
     
   "Matter Enough," Replied the Youth, With A Reckless Oath. "The Worst 
   That I Feared has Happened." 
     
     
     
   "What'S Happened?" Asked the Old Man Excitedly. 
     
     
     
   "I'Ve Been Fighting In the Work-Room Like A Bull-Dog, And Swearing Like 
   A Pirate. That'S The Kind Of A Christian I Am, And Always Will Be. What 
   I Was Made For, I Don'T See," He Added, As He Threw Himself Into A 
   Chair. 
     
     
     
   "Well, Well, Well!" Said Mr. Growther Dejectedly, "I Was In hopes She'D 
   Git Here In time; But I'M Afeered you'Ve Just Clean Backslid." 
     
     
     
   "No Kind Of Doubt On That Score," Replied the Young Man, With A Bitter 
   Laugh; "Though I Now Think I Never Had Very Far To Slide. And Yet It All 
   Seems Wrong And Unjust. Why Should My Hopes Be Raised? Why Should Such 
   Feelings Be Inspired, If This Was To Be The End? If I Was Foreordained 
   To Go To The Devil, Why Must An Aggravating Glimpse Of Heaven Be Given 
   Me? I Say It'S All Cruel And Wrong. But What'S The Use! Come, Let'S Have 
   Supper, One Must Eat As Long As He'S In the Body." 
     
     
     
   It Was A Silent And Dismal Meal, And Soon Over. Then Haldane Took His 
   Hat Without A Word. 
     
     
     
   "Where Are You Goin'?" Asked mr. Growther, Anxiously. 
     
     
     
   "I Neither Know Nor Care." 
     
     
     
   "Don'T Go Out To-Night, I Expect Somebody." 
     
     
     
   "Who, In the Name Of Wonder?" 
     
     
     
   "Mrs. Arnot." 
     
     
     
   "I Could As Easily Face An Angel Of Light Now As Mrs. Arnot," He 
   Replied, Pausing On The Threshold; For Even In his Reckless Mood The Old 
   Man'S Wistful Face Had Power To Restrain. 
     
     
     
   "You Are Mistaken, Egbert," Said A Gentle Voice Behind Him. "You Can 
   Face Me Much More Easily Than An Angel Of Light. I Am Human Like 
   Yourself, And Your Friend." 
     
     
     
   She Had Approached the Open Door Through The Dusk Of The Mild Autumn 
   Evening, And Had Heard His Words. He Trembled at Her Voice, But Ventured 
   No Reply. 
     
     
     
   "I Have Come To See You, Egbert; You Will Not Leave Me." 
     
     
     
   "Mrs. Arnot," He Said Passionately, "I Am Not Worth The Trouble You Take 
   In My Behalf, And I Might As Well Tell You At Once That It Is In vain." 
     
     
     
   "I Do Not Regard What I Do For You As 'Trouble,' And I Know It Is Not In 
   Vain," She Replied, With Calm, Clear Emphasis. 
     
     
     
   Her Manner Quieted him Somewhat; But After A Moment He Said: 
     
     
     
   "You Do Not Know What Has Happened to-Day, Nor How I Have Been Feeling 
   For Many Days Past." 
     
     
     
   "Your Manner Indicates How You. Feel; And You May Tell Me What Has 
   Happened if You Wish. If You Prefer That We Should Be Alone, Come With 
   Me To My Carriage, And In the Quiet Of My Private Parlor You Can Tell Me 
   All." 
     
     
     
   "No," Said Haldane Gloomily; "I Am Not Fit To Enter Your House, And For 
   Other Reasons Would Rather Not Do So. I Have No Better Friend Than Mr. 
   Growther, And He Already Knows It All. I May As Well Tell You Here; That 
   Is, If You Are Willing To Stay." 
     
     
     
   "I Came To Stay," Said Mrs. Arnot Quietly; And Sitting Down, She Turned 
   A Grave And Expectant Face Toward Him. 
     
     
     
   "I Cannot Find Words In which To Tell You My Shame, And The Utterness Of 
   My Defeat." 
     
     
     
   "Yes, You Can, Egbert. I Believe That You Have Always Told Me The Truth 
   About Yourself." 
     
     
     
   "I Have, And I Will Again," He Said Desperately; "And Yet It Seems Like 
   Profanation To Describe Such A Scene To You." But He Did Describe It, 
   Briefly And Graphically, Nevertheless. As He Spoke Of His Last Fierce 
   Blow, Which Vanquished his Opponent, Mr. Growther Muttered: 
     
     
     
   "Sarved him Right; Can'T Help Feelin' Glad You Hit 'Im So Hard; But Then 
   That'S In keepin' With The Cussedness Of My Natur'." 
     
     
     
   A Glimmer Of A Smile Hovered around Mrs. Arnot'S Flexible Mouth, But She 
   Only Asked quietly: 
     
     
     
   "Is That All?" 
     
     
     
   "I Should Think That Was Enough, After All That I Had Felt And 
   Professed." 
     
     
     
   "I Fear I Shall Shock You, Egbert, But I Am Not Very Much Surprised at 
   Your Course. Indeed i Think It Was Quite Natural, In view Of The 
   Circumstances. Perhaps My Nature Is Akin To Mr. Growther'S, For I Am 
   Rather Glad That Fellow Was Punished; And I Think It Was Very Natural 
   For You To Punish Him As You Did. So Far From Despairing Of You, I Am 
   The More Hopeful Of You." 
     
     
     
   "Mrs. Arnot!" Exclaimed the Youth In undisguised astonishment 
     
     
     
   "Now Do Not Jump To Hasty And False Conclusions From My Words; I Do Not 
   Say That Your Action Was Right. In the Abstract It Was Decidedly Wrong, 
   And For Your Language There Is No Other Excuse Save That An Old, Bad 
   Habit Asserted itself At A Time When You Had Lost Self-Control. I Am 
   Dealing Leniently With You, Egbert, Because It Is A Trick Of The 
   Adversary To Tempt To Despair As Well As To Over-Confidence. At The Same 
   Time I Speak Sincerely. You Are And Have Been For Some Time In a Morbid 
   State Of Mind. Let My Simple Common-Sense Come To Your Aid In this 
   Emergency. The Very Conditions Under Which You Have Been Working at The 
   Mill Imposed a Continuous Strain Upon Your Nervous Power. You Were 
   Steadily Approaching a Point Where Mere Human Endurance Would Give Way. 
   Mark, I Do Not Say That You Might Not Have Been Helped to Endure Longer, 
   And To Endure Everything; But Mere Human Nature Could Not Have Endured 
   It Much Longer. It Is Often Wiser To Shun Certain Temptations, If We 
   Can, Than To Meet Them. You Could Not Do This; And If, Taking Into 
   Account All The Circumstances, You Could Have Tamely Submitted to This 
   Insult, Which Was The Culmination Of Long-Continued and Exasperating 
   Injury, I Should Have Doubted whether You Possessed the Material To Make 
   A Strong, Forceful Man. Of Course, If You Often Give Way To Passion In 
   This Manner, You Would Be Little Better Than A Wild Beast; But For Weeks 
   You Had Exercised very Great Forbearance And Self-Control--For One Of 
   Your Temperament, Remarkable Self-Control--And I Respect You For It. We 
   Are As Truly Bound To Be Just To Ourselves As To Others. Your Action Was 
   Certainly Wrong, And I Would Be Deeply Grieved and Disappointed if You 
   Continued to Give Way To Such Ebullitions Of Passion; But Remembering 
   Your Youth, And All That Has Happened since Spring, And Observing 
   Plainly That You Are In an Unhealthful Condition Of Mind And Body, I 
   Think Your Course Was Very Natural Indeed, And That You Have No Occasion 
   For Such Despondency." 
     
     
     
   "Yes," Put In mr. Growther; "And He Went Away Without His Breakfast, And 
   It Was Mighty Little He Took For Lunch; All Men Are Savages When They 
   Haven'T Eaten Anything." 
     
     
     
   "Pardon Me, Mrs. Arnot," Said Haldane Gloomily, "All This Does Not Meet 
   The Case At All. I Had Been Hoping That I Was A Christian; What Is More, 
   It Seems To Me That I Had Had The Feelings And Experiences Of A 
   Christian." 
     
     
     
   "I Have Nothing To Say Against That," Said The Lady Quietly; "I Am Very 
   Glad That You Had." 
     
     
     
   "After What Has Occurred what Right Have I To Think Myself A Christian?" 
     
     
     
   "As Good A Right As Multitudes Of Others." 
     
     
     
   "Now, Mrs. Arnot, That Seems To Me To Be Contrary To Reason." 
     
     
     
   "It Is Not Contrary To Fact. Good People In the Bible, Good People In 
   History, And To My Personal Knowledge, Too, Have Been Left To Do 
   Outrageously Wrong Things. To Err Is Human; And We Are All Very Human, 
   Egbert." 
     
     
     
   "But I Don'T Feel That I Am A Christian Any Longer," He Said Sadly. 
     
     
     
   "Perhaps You Are Not, And Never Were. But This Is A Question That You 
   Can Never Settle By Consulting Your Own Feelings." 
     
     
     
   "Then How Can I Settle It?" Was The Eager Response. 
     
     
     
   "By Settling Fully And Finally In your Mind What Relation You Will 
   Sustain To Jesus Christ. He Offers To Be Your Complete Saviour From Sin. 
   Will You Accept Of Him As Such? He Offers To Be Your Divine And Unerring 
   Guide And Example In your Everyday Life. Will You Accept Of Him As Such? 
   Doing These Two Things In simple Honesty And To The Best Of Our Ability 
   Is The Only Way To Be A Christian That I Know Of." 
     
     
     
   "Is That All?" Muttered mr. Growther, Rising For A Moment From His Chair 
   In His Deep Interest In her Words. She Gave Him An Encouraging Smile, 
   And Then Turned to Haldane Again. 
     
     
     
   "Mrs. Arnot," He Said, "I Know That You Are Far Wiser In these Matters 
   Than I, And Yet I Am Bewildered. The Bible Says We Must Be Converted; 
   That We Must Be Born Again. It Seems To Require Some Great, Mysterious 
   Change That Shall Renew Our Whole Nature. And It Seemed to Me That I 
   Experienced that Change. It Would Be Impossible For Me To Describe To 
   You My Emotions. They Were Sincere And Profound. They Stirred the Very 
   Depths Of My Soul, And Under Their Influence It Was A Joy To Worship God 
   And To Do His Will. Had I Not A Right To Believe That The Hour In which 
   I First Felt Those Glad Thrills Of Faith And Love Was The Hour Of My 
   Conversion?" 
     
     
     
   "You Had A Right To Hope It." 
     
     
     
   "But Now, To-Day, When Every Bad Passion Has Been Uppermost In my Heart, 
   What Reason Have I To Hope?" 
     
     
     
   "None At All, Looking To Yourself And To Your Varying Emotions." 
     
     
     
   "Mrs. Arnot, I Am Bewildered. I Am All At Sea. The Bible, As Interpreted 
   By Dr. Barstow And Dr. Marks, Seems To Require So Much; And What You Say 
   Is Required is Simplicity Itself." 
     
     
     
   "If You Will Listen Patiently, Egbert, I Will Give You My Views, And I 
   Think They Are Correct, For I Endeavor To Take Them Wholly From The 
   Bible. That Which God Requires Is Simplicity Itself, And Yet It Is Very 
   Much; It Is Infinite. In the First Place, One Must Give Up 
   Self-Righteousness--Not Self-Respect, Mark You--But Mere Spiritual 
   Self-Conceit, Which Is Akin To The Feeling Of Some Vulgar People Who 
   Think They Are Good Enough To Associate With Those Who Are Immeasurably 
   Beyond Them, But Whose Superiority They Are Too Small To Comprehend. We 
   Must Come To God In the Spirit Of A Little Child; And Then, As If We 
   Were Children, He Will Give To Us A Natural And Healthful Growth In the 
   Life That Resembles His Own. This Is The Simplest Thing That Can Be 
   Done, And All Can Do It; But How Many Are Trying To Work Out Their 
   Salvation By Some Intricate Method Of Human Device, And, Stranger Still, 
   Are Very Complacent Over The Mechanical And Abnormal Results! All Such 
   Futile Efforts, Of Which Many Are So Vain, Must Be Cast Aside. Listen To 
   Christ'S Own Words: 'Learn Of Me, For I Am Meek And Lowly In heart.' He 
   Who Would Enter Upon The Christian Life, Must Come To Christ As The True 
   Scientist Sits At The Feet Of Nature--Docile, Teachable, Eager To Learn 
   Truth That Existed long Before He Was Born, And Not Disposed to Thrust 
   Forward Some Miserable Little System Of His Own. Nothing Could Be 
   Simpler, Easier, Or More Pleasing To Christ Himself Than The Action Of 
   Mary As She Sat At His Feet And Listened to Him; But Many Are Like 
   Martha, And Are Bustling about In his Service In ways Pleasing To 
   Themselves; And It Is Very Hard For Them To Give Up Their Own Way. I'Ve 
   Had To Give Up A Great Deal In my Time, And Perhaps You Will. 
     
     
     
   "In Addition To All Trust In ourselves, In what We Are And What We Have 
   Done, We Must Turn Away From What We Have Felt; And Here I Think I Touch 
   Your Present Difficulties. We Are Not Saved by The Emotions Of Our Own 
   Hearts, However Sacred and Delightful They May Seem. Nor Do They Always 
   Indicate Just What We Are And Shall Be. A Few Weeks Since You Thought 
   Your Heart Had Become The Abiding-Place Of All That Was Good; Now, It 
   Seems To You To Be Possessed by Evil. This Is Common Experience; At One 
   Time The Psalmist Sings In rapturous Devotion; Again, He Is Wailing In 
   Penitence Over One Of The Blackest Crimes In history. Peter Is On The 
   Mount Of Transfiguration; Again He Is Denying His Master With Oaths And 
   Curses. Even Good Men Vary As Widely As This; But Christ Is 'The Same, 
   Yesterday, To-Day, And Forever.' By Good Men I Mean Simply Those Who Are 
   Sincerely Wishing and Trying To Obtain Mastery Over The Evil Of Their 
   Natures. If You Still Wish To Do This, I Have Abundant Hope For You--As 
   Much Hope As Ever I Had." 
     
     
     
   "Of What Value, Then, Were All Those Strange, Happy Feelings Which I 
   Regarded as The Proofs Of My Conversion?" Haldane Asked, With The Look 
   Of Deep Perplexity Still Upon His Face. 
     
     
     
   "Of Very Great Value, If You Look Upon Them In their True Light. They 
   Were Evidences Of God'S Love And Favor. They Showed how Kindly Disposed 
   He Is Toward You. They Can Prove To You How Abundantly Able He Is To 
   Reward All Trust And Service, Giving Foretastes Of Heavenly Bliss Even 
   In The Midst Of Earthly Warfare. The Trouble Has Been With You, As With 
   So Many Others, That You Have Been Consulting Your Variable Emotions 
   Instead Of Looking Simply To Christ, The Author And Finisher Of Our 
   Faith. Besides, The Power Is Not Given To Us To Maintain An Equable Flow 
   Of Feeling For Any Considerable Length Of Time. We React From Exaltation 
   Into Depression Inevitably. Our Feelings Depend Largely Also Upon 
   Earthly Causes And Our Physical Condition, And We Can Never Be 
   Absolutely Sure How Far They Are The Result Of The Direct Action Of 
   God'S Spirit Upon Our Minds. It Is God'S Plan To Work Through Simple, 
   Natural Means, So That We May Not Be Looking and Waiting For The 
   Supernatural. And Yet It Would Seem That Many Are So Irrational That, 
   When They Find Mere Feeling Passing away, They Give Up Their Hope And 
   All Relationship To Christ, Acting as If The Immutable Love Of God Were 
   Changing With Their Flickering Emotions." 
     
     
     
   "I Have Been Just So Irrational," Said Haldane In a Low, Deep Tone. 
     
     
     
   "Then Settle It Now And Forever, My Dear Young Friend, That Jesus 
   Christ, Who Died to Save You, Wishes To Save You Every Day And All The 
   Days Of Your Life. He Does Not Change A Hair-Breadth From The Attitude 
   Indicated in the Words, 'Come Unto Me; And Whosoever Cometh Unto Me I 
   Will In no Wise Cast Out.'" 
     
     
     
   "Do You Mean To Say He Feels That Way Toward Me All The Time, In spite 
   Of All My Cantankerous Moods?" Asked mr. Growther Eagerly. 
     
     
     
   "Most Certainly." 
     
     
     
   "I Wouldn'T A' Thought It If I'D Lived a Thousand Years." 
     
     
     
   "What, Then, Is Conversion?" Asked haldane, Feeling as If He Were Being 
   Led safely Out Of A Labyrinth In which He Had Lost Himself. 
     
     
     
   "In My View It Is Simply Turning away From Everything To Christ As The 
   Sole Ground Of Our Salvation And As Our Divine Guide And Example In 
   Christian Living." 
     
     
     
   "But How Can We Ever Know That We Are Christians?" 
     
     
     
   "Only By The Honest, Patient, Continued effort To Obey His Brief 
   Command, 'Follow Me.' We May Follow Near, Or We May Follow Afar Off; But 
   We Can Soon Learn Whether We Wish To Get Nearer To Him, Or To Get Away 
   From Him, Or To Just Indifferently Let Him Drop Out Of Our Thoughts. The 
   Christian Is One Who Holds And Maintains Certain Simple Relations To 
   Christ. 'Ye Are My Friends,' He Said, Not If You Feel Thus And So, But, 
   'If Ye Do Whatsoever I Command You;' And I Have Found From Many Years' 
   Experience That 'His Commandments Are Not Grievous.' For Every Burden He 
   Imposes He Gives Help And Comfort A Hundred times. The More Closely And 
   Faithfully We Follow Him, The More Surely Do Fear And Doubt Pass Away. 
   We Learn To Look Up To Him As A Child Looks In its Mother'S Face, And 
   'His Spirit Beareth Witness With Our Spirit That We Are His.' But The 
   Vital Point Is, Are We Following Him? Feeling Varies So Widely And 
   Strangely In varied circumstances And With Different Temperaments That 
   Many A True Saint Of God Would Be Left In cruel Uncertainty If This Were 
   The Test. My Creed is A Very Simple One, Egbert; But I Take A World Of 
   Comfort In it. It Contains Only Three Words--Trust, Follow Christ 
   --That Is All." 
     
     
     
   "It Is So Simple And Plain That I Am Tempted to Take It As My Creed 
   Also," Said Haldane, With A Tinge Of Hope And Enthusiasm In his Manner, 
     
     
     
   "And Yet Remember," Warned his Friend Earnestly, "There Is Infinite 
   Requirement In it. A Child Can Make A Rude Sketch Of A Perfect Statue 
   That Will Bear Some Faint Resemblance To It. If He Persevere He Can 
   Gradually Learn To Draw The Statue With Increasing accuracy. In taking 
   This Divine Man As Your Example, You Pledge Yourself To Imitate One Whom 
   You Can Ever Approach But Never Reach. And Yet There Is No Occasion For 
   The Weakest To Falter Before This Infinite Requirement, For God Himself 
   In Spirit Is Present Everywhere To Aid All In regaining The Lost Image 
   Of Himself. It Is To No Lonely Unguided effort That I Urge You, Egbert, 
   But To A Patient Co-Working With Your Maker, That You May Attain A 
   Character That Will Fit You To Dwell At Last In your Kingly Father'S 
   House; And I Tell You Frankly, For Your Encouragement, That You Are 
   Capable Of Forming Such A Character. I Will Now Bid You Good-Night, And 
   Leave You To Think Over What I Have Said. But Write To Me Or Come To Me 
   Whenever You Wish." 
     
     
     
   "Good-Night, Mr. Growther; Hate Yourself If You Will, But Remember That 
   The Bible Assures Us That 'God Is Love'; You Cannot Hate Him." 
   
   
   
   Chapter XLII (The Lever That Moves The World) 
   The Power Of Truth Can Scarcely Be Overestimated, And The Mind That 
   Earnestly Seeks It Becomes Noble In its Noble Quest. If This Can Be Said 
   Of Truth In the Abstract, And In its Humbler Manifestations, How 
   Omnipotent Truth Becomes In its Grandest Culmination And Embodied in a 
   Being Capable Of Inspiring Our Profoundest Fear And Deepest Love. One 
   May Accept Of Religious Forms And Philosophies, And Be Little Changed 
   Thereby. One May Be Perfectly Saturated with Ecclesiasticism, And Still 
   Continue A Small-Natured man. But The Man That Accepts Of Jesus Christ 
   As A Personal And Living Teacher, As Did The Fishermen Of Galilee, That 
   Man Begins To Grow Large And Noble, Brave And Patient. 
     
     
     
   Egbert Haldane Has Been Sketched as An Ordinary Youth. There Are 
   Thousands Like Him Who Have Been Warped and Marred by Early Influences, 
   But More Seriously Injured by A Personal And Wilful Yielding To Whatever 
   Form Of Evil Proved attractive. The Majority Are Not So Unwary Or So 
   Unfortunate As He Was; But Multitudes, For Whom Society Has 
   Comparatively Little Criticism, Are More Vitiated at Heart, More 
   Cold-Blooded and Deliberate In their Evil. One May Form A Base 
   Character, But Maintain An Outward Respectability; But Let Him Not Be 
   Very Complacent Over The Decorous And Conventional Veneer Which Masks 
   Him From The World. If One Imagines That He Can Corrupt His Own Soul And 
   Make It The Abiding-Place Of Foul Thoughts, Mean Impulses, And 
   Shrivelling Selfishness, And Yet Go Forward Very Far In god'S Universe 
   Without Meeting Overwhelming Disaster, He Will Find Himself Thoroughly 
   Mistaken. 
     
     
     
   The Sin Of Another Man Finds Him Out In swift Sequence Upon Its 
   Committal, And Such Had Been Haldane'S Experience. He Had Been Taught 
   Promptly The Nature Of The Harvest Which Evil Produces Inevitably. 
     
     
     
   The Terrible Consequences Of Sin Prevent And Deter From It In many 
   Instances, But They Have No Very Great Reformatory Power It Would Seem. 
   Multitudes To-Day Are _In Extremis_ From Destroying Vices, And 
   Recognize The Fact; But So Far From Reacting Upward Into Virtue, Even 
   After Vice (Save In the Intent Of The Heart) Has Ceased to Be Possible, 
   There Seems To Be A Moral Inertia Which Nothing Moves, Or A Reckless And 
   Increasing Impetus Downward. 
     
     
     
   It Would Appear That, In order To Save The Sinful, A Strong, And Yet 
   Gentle And Loving, Hand Must Be Laid Upon Them. The Stern Grasp Of 
   Justice, The Grip Of Pain, Law--Human And Divine--With Its Severe 
   Penalties, And Conscience Re-Echoing Its Thunders, All Lead Too Often To 
   Despondency, Recklessness, And Despair. It Would Be Difficult To Imagine 
   A Worse Hell Than Vice Often Digs For Its Votaries, Even In this World; 
   And In spite Of All Human Philosophies, And Human Wishes To The 
   Contrary, It Remains A Fact That The Guilty Soul Trembles At A Worse 
   Hereafter, And Yet No Sufferings, No Fears, No Fate Can So Appall As To 
   Turn The Soul From Its Infatuation With That Which Is Destroying It. 
   More Potent Than Commands, Threats, And Their Dire Fulfilment, Is Love, 
   Which Wins And Entreats Back To Virtue The Man Whom Even Omnipotence 
   Could Not Drive Back. 
     
     
     
   In The Flood God Overwhelmed the Sinful World In sudden Destruction, But 
   The Race Continued sinning all The Same. At Last God Came Among Men, And 
   Shared in their Lot And Nature. He Taught Them, He Sympathized with 
   Them, He Loved them, He Died for Them, And When The Wondrous Story Is 
   Told As It Should Be, The Most Reckless Pause To Listen, The Most 
   Callous Are Touched, And Those Who Would Otherwise Despair In their 
   Guilt Are Led to Believe That There Is A Heart Large And Tender Enough 
   To Pity And Save Even Such As The World Is Ready To Spurn Into A 
   Dishonored grave. 
     
     
     
   The Love Of God As Manifested in christ Of Nazareth Is Doing More For 
   Humanity Than All Other Influences Combined. The Best And Noblest 
   Elements Of Our Civilization Can Be Traced either Directly Or Indirectly 
   To Him, And Shadows Brood Heavily Over Both The Lands And Hearts That 
   Neither Know Nor Care For Him. 
     
     
     
   It Would Seem, Then, That Not The Wrath Of God, But His Love, Is Most 
   Effective In separating Men From The Evil Which Would Otherwise Destroy 
   Them. God Could Best Manifest This Love By Becoming a Man "Made Like 
   Unto His Brethren"; For The Love Of God Is Ever Best Taught And Best 
   Understood, Not As A Doctrine, But When Embodied in some Large-Hearted 
   And Christlike Person. 
     
     
     
   Such A Person Most Emphatically Was Mrs. Arnot; And Because Of These 
   Divine Characteristics Her Gentle, Womanly Hand Became More Potent To 
   Save Young Haldane Than Were All The Powers Of Evil And The Downward 
   Impetus Of A Bad Life To Destroy. 
     
     
     
   How Very Many, Like Him, Might Be Saved, Were More Women Of Tact And 
   Culture, Large-Hearted also And Willing To Give A Part Of Their Time To 
   Such Noble Uses! 
     
     
     
   By A Personal And Human Ministry, The Method That Has Ever Been Most 
   Effective In god'S Providence, Haldane Was At Last Brought Into Close, 
   Intimate Relations With The Divine Teacher Himself. He Was Led to Look 
   Away From His Own Fitful Emotions And Vague Experiences To One Who Was 
   His Strong And Unchanging Friend. He Was Led to Take As His Daily Guide 
   And Teacher The One Who Developed peter The Fisherman, Paul The Bigot, 
   Luther The Ignorant Monk, Into What They Eventually Became, And It Was 
   Not Strange, Therefore, That His Crude, Misshapen Character Should 
   Gradually Assume The Outlines Of Moral Symmetry, And That Strength 
   Should Take The Place Of Weakness. He Commenced to Learn By Experience 
   The Truth Which Many Never Half Believe, That God Is As Willing To 
   Lovingly Fashion The Spiritual Life Of Some Humble Follower As He Is To 
   Shape The Destiny Of Those Who Are To Be Famous In the Annals Of The 
   Church And The World. 
     
     
     
   To Haldane'S Surprise He Was Not Discharged from His Humble Position In 
   Mr. Ivison'S Employ, And The Explanation, Which Soon Afterward Appeared, 
   Gave Him Great Encouragement. The Man Whom He Had So Severely Punished 
   In His Outburst Of Passion, Vented his Spite By Giving To The _Morning 
   Courier_ An Exaggerated and Distorted account Of The Affair, In which 
   The Youth Was Made To Exchange Places With Himself, And Appear As A 
   Coarse, Quarrelsome Bully. 
     
     
     
   When Haldane'S Attention Was Called to The Paragraph His Face Flushed 
   With Indignation As He Read It; But He Threw The Paper Down And Went To 
   His Work Without A Word Of Comment. He Had Already About Despaired of 
   Anything Like Justice Or Friendly Recognition From The Public, And He 
   Turned from This Additional Wrong With A Feeling Not Far Removed from 
   Indifference. He Was Learning The Value Of Mrs. Arnot'S Suggestion, That 
   A Consciousness Of One'S Own Integrity Can Do More To Sustain Than The 
   World'S Opinion, And Her Words On The Previous Evening Had Taught Him 
   How A Companionship, And Eventually A Character, Might Be Won That Could 
   Compensate Him For All That He Had Lost Or Might Suffer. 
     
     
     
   His Persecutor Was, Therefore, Disappointed in seeing How Little 
   Annoyance His Spite Occasioned, Nor Was His Equanimity Increased by A 
   Message From Mr. Ivison Ordering His Instant Discharge. 
     
     
     
   The Following Morning The Foreman Of The Room In which Haldane Worked 
   Came To Him With Quite A Show Of Friendliness, And Said: 
     
     
     
   "It Seems Ye'Re In luck, For The Boss Takes An Interest In ye. Read 
   That; I Wouldn'T A' Thought It." 
     
     
     
   Hope Sprang Up Anew In the Young Man'S Breast As He Read The Following 
   Words: 
     
     
     
   Editor Courier.--_Dear Sir:_ You Will Doubtless Give Space For This 
   Correction In regard To The Fracas Which Took Place In my Factory A Day 
   Or Two Since. You, With All Right-Minded men, Surely Desire That No 
   Injustice Should Be Done To Any One In any Circumstances. Very Great 
   Injustice Was Done To Young Haldane In your Issue Of To-Day. I Have 
   Taken Pains To Inform Myself Accurately, And Have Learned that He 
   Patiently Submitted to A Petty Persecution For A Long Time, And At Last 
   Gave Way To Natural Anger Under A Provocation Such As No Man Of Spirit 
   Could Endure. His Tormentor, A Coarse, Ill-Conditioned fellow, Was 
   Justly Punished, And I Have Discharged him From My Employ. I Have 
   Nothing To Offer In extenuation Of Young Haldane'S Past Faults, And, If 
   I Remember Correctly, The Press Of The City Has Always Been Fully As 
   Severe Upon Him As The Occasion Demanded. If Any Further Space Is Given 
   To His Fortunes, Justice At Least, Not To Say A Little Encouraging 
   Kindness, Should Be Accorded to Him, As Well As Severity. It Should Be 
   Stated that For Weeks He Has Been Trying To Earn An Honest Livelihood, 
   And In a Situation Peculiarly Trying To Him I Have Been Told That He 
   Sincerely Wishes To Reform And Live A Cleanly And Decent Life, And I 
   Have Obtained evidence That Satisfies Me Of The Truth Of This Report. It 
   Appears To Me That It Is As Mean A Thing For Newspapers To Strike A Man 
   Who Is Down, But Who Is Endeavoring To Rise Again, As It Is For An 
   Individual To Do So, And I Am Sure That You Will Not Consciously Permit 
   Your Journal To Give Any Such Sinister Blow. Respectfully Yours, John 
   Ivison. 
     
     
     
   In Editorial Comment Came The Following Brief Remark: 
     
     
     
   We Gladly Give Mr. Ivison'S Communication A Prominent Place. It Is Not 
   Our Intention To "Strike" Any One, But Merely To Record Each Day'S 
   Events As They Come To Us. With The Best Intentions Mistakes Are 
   Sometimes Made. We Have No Possible Motive For Not Wishing Young Haldane 
   Well--We Do Wish Him Success In achieving a Better Future Than His Past 
   Actions Have Led us To Expect. The City Would Be Much Better Off If All 
   Of His Class Were Equally Ready To Go To Work. 
     
     
     
   Here At Least Was Some Recognition. The Fact That He Was Working, And 
   Willing To Work, Had Been Plainly Stated, And This Fact Is An Essential 
   Foundation-Stone In the Building Up Of A Reputation Which The World Will 
   Respect. 
     
     
     
   Although The Discharge Of The Leading Persecutor, And Mr. Ivison'S 
   Letter, Did Not Add To Haldane'S Popularity At The Mill, They Led to His 
   Being Severely Let Alone At First, And An Increasingly Frank And Affable 
   Manner On The Part Of The Young Man, As He Gained in patience And 
   Serenity, Gradually Disarmed those Who Were Not Vindictive And Blind 
   From Prejudice. 
     
     
     
   Poor Mrs. Haldane Seemed destined to Be Her Son'S Evil Genius To The 
   End. When People Take A False View Of Life There Seems A Fatality In all 
   Their Actions. The Very Fact That They Are Not In accord With What Is 
   Right And True Causes The Most Important Steps Of Their Lives To Appear 
   Ill-Timed, Injudicious, And Unnatural. That They Are Well-Meaning and 
   Sincere Does Not Help Matters Much, If Both Tact And Sound Principles 
   Are Wanting. Mrs. Haldane Belonged to The Class That Are Sure That 
   Everything Is Right Which Seems Right To Them. True, It Was A Queer 
   Little Jumble Of Religious Prejudices And Conventional Notions That 
   Combined to Produce Her Conclusions; But When Once They Were Reached, No 
   Matter How Absurd Or Defective They Appeared to Others, She Had No More 
   Doubt Of Them Than Of The Copernican System. 
     
     
     
   Her Motherly Feelings Had Made Her Willing To Take Her Son To Some 
   Hiding-Place In europe; But Since That Could Not Be, And Perhaps Was Not 
   Best, She Had Thoroughly Settled it In her Mind That He Should Accept Of 
   Her Offer And Live At Her Expense The Undemonstrative Life Of An Oyster 
   In The Social And Moral Ooze Of The Obscurest Mud-Bank He Could Find. In 
   This Way The Terrible World Might Be Led to Eventually Leave Off Talking 
   And Thinking Of The Haldane Family--A Consummation That Appeared to Her 
   Worth Any Sacrifice. When The Morning Paper Brought Another Vile Story 
   (Copied from The Hillaton "Courier") Of Her Son'S Misdoings, Her Adverse 
   View Of His Plans And Character Was Confirmed beyond The Shadow Of A 
   Doubt. She Felt That There Was A Fatality About The Place And Its 
   Associations For Him, And Her One Hope Was To Get Him Away. 
     
     
     
   She Cut The Article From The Paper And Inclosed it To Him With The 
   Accompanying Note: 
     
     
     
     
   "We Go To New York This Afternoon, And Sail For Europe To-Morrow. You 
   Send Us In parting a Characteristic Souvenir, Which I Return To You. The 
   Scenes And Associations Indicated in this Disgraceful Paragraph Seem 
   More To Your Taste Than Those Which Your Family Have Hitherto Enjoyed as 
   Their Right For Many Generations. While This Remains True, You, Of 
   Necessity, Cut Yourself Off From Your Kindred, And We, Who Are Most 
   Closely Connected, Must Remain Where Our Names Cannot Be Associated with 
   Yours. I Still Cherish The Hope, However, That You May Find The Way Of 
   The Transgressor So Hard That You Will Be Brought By Your Bitter 
   Experience To Accept Of My Offer And Give The World A Chance To Forget 
   Your Folly And Wickedness. When You Will Do This In good Faith (And My 
   Lawyer Will See That It Is Done In good Faith), You May Draw On Him For 
   The Means Of A Comfortable Support. In bitter Shame And Sorrow, Your 
   Mother, 
     
     
     
   "Emily Haldane." 
     
     
     
     
   This Letter Was A Severe Blow To Her Son, For It Contained the Last 
   Words Of The Mother That He Might Not See For Years. While He Felt It To 
   Be Cruelly Unjust To Him And His Present Aims, He Was Calm Enough Now To 
   See That The Distorted paragraph Which Led to It Fitted in only Too Well 
   With The Past, And So Had The Coloring Of Truth. When Inclined to Blame 
   His Mother For Not Waiting For His Versions Of These Miserable Events 
   And Accepting Of Them Alone, He Was Compelled to Remember That She Was 
   In Part Awakened from Her Blind Idolatry Of Him By The Discovery Of His 
   Efforts To Deceive Her In regard To His Increasing Dissipation. Even 
   Before He Had Entered mr. Arnot'S Counting-Room He Had Taught Her To 
   Doubt His Word, And Now She Had Evidently Lost Confidence In him 
   Utterly. He Foresaw That This Confidence Could Be Regained only By Years 
   Of Patient Well-Doing, And That She Might Incline To Believe In him More 
   Slowly Even Than Comparative Strangers. But He Was Not Disposed to Be 
   Very Angry And Resentful, For He Now Had But Little Confidence In 
   Himself. He Had Been Led, However, By His Bitter Experience And By Mrs. 
   Arnot'S Faithful Ministry To Adopt That Lady'S Brief But Comprehensive 
   Creed, He Was Learning To Trust In christ As An All-Powerful And 
   Personal Friend; He Was Daily Seeking To Grasp The Principles Which 
   Christ Taught, But More Clearly Acted out, And Which Are Essential To 
   The Formation Of A Noble Character. He Had Thus Complied with The Best 
   Conditions Of Spiritual Growth; And The Crude Elements Of His Character, 
   Which Had Been Rendered more Chaotic By Evil, Slowly Began To Shape 
   Themselves Into The Symmetry Of A True Man. 
     
     
     
   In Regard To His Mother'S Letter, All That He Could Do Was To Inclose To 
   Her, With The Request That It Be Forwarded, Mr. Ivison'S Defence Of Him, 
   Which Appeared in the "Courier" Of The Following Morning. 
     
     
     
   "You Perceive," He Wrote, "That A Stranger Has Taken Pains To Inform 
   Himself Correctly In regard To The Facts Of The Case, And That He Has 
   For Me Some Charity And Hope. I Do Not Excuse The Wrong Of My Action On 
   That Occasion Or On Any Other, But I Do Wish, And I Am Trying, To Do 
   Better, And I Hope To Prove The Same To You By Years Of Patient Effort. 
   I May Fail Miserably, However, As You Evidently Believe. The Fact That 
   My Folly And Wickedness Have Driven You And My Sisters Into Exile, Is A 
   Very Great Sorrow To Me, But Compliance With Your Request That I Should 
   Leave Hillaton And Go Into Hiding Would Bring No Remedy At All. I Know 
   That I Should Do Worse Anywhere Else, And My Self-Respect And Conscience 
   Both Require That I Should Fight The Battle Of My Life Out Here Where I 
   Have Suffered such Disgraceful Defeat." 
     
   
   
   
   Chapter XLIII (Mr. Growther "Stumped") 
   About Three Weeks After The Occasion Upon Which Haldane'S Human Nature 
   Had Manifested itself In such A Disastrous Manner As He Had Supposed, 
   Mrs. Arnot, Dr. Barstow, And Mr. Ivison Happened to Find Themselves 
   Together At An Evening Company. 
     
     
     
   "I Have Been Wishing To Thank You, Mr. Ivison," Said The Lady, "For Your 
   Just And Manly Letter In regard To Young Haldane. I Think It Encouraged 
   Him Very Much, And Has Given Him More Hopefulness In his Work. How Has 
   He Been Doing Of Late? The Only Reply He Makes To My Questioning Is, 'I 
   Am Plodding On.'" 
     
     
     
   "Do You Know," Said Mr. Ivison, "I Am Beginning To Take Quite An 
   Interest In that Young Fellow. He Has Genuine Pluck. You Cannot 
   Understand, Mrs. Arnot, What An Ordeal He Has Passed through. He Is 
   Naturally As Mettlesome As A Young Colt, And Yet Day After Day He Was 
   Subjected to Words And Actions That Were To Him Like The Cut Of A Whip." 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Ivison," Said Mrs. Arnot, With A Sudden Moisture Coming Into Her 
   Eyes, "I Have Long Felt The Deepest Interest In this Young Man. In 
   Judging any One I Try To Consider Not Only What He Does, But All The 
   Circumstances Attending Upon His Action. Knowing Haldane'S Antecedents, 
   And How Peculiarly Unfitted he Was By Early Life And Training For His 
   Present Trials, I Think His Course Since He Was Last Released from 
   Prison Has Been Very Brave," And She Gave A Brief Sketch Of His Life And 
   Mental States, As Far As A Delicate Regard For His Feelings Permitted, 
   From That Date. 
     
     
     
   Dr. Barstow, In his Turn, Also Became Interested in the Youth, Not Only 
   For His Own Sake, But Also In the Workings Of His Mind And His Spiritual 
   Experiences. It Was The Good Doctor'S Tendency To Analyze Everything and 
   Place All Psychological Manifestations Under Their Proper Theological 
   Heads. 
     
     
     
   "I Feel That I Indirectly Owe This Youth A Large Debt Of Gratitude, 
   Since His Coming To Our Church And His Repulse, In the First Instance, 
   Has Led to Decided changes For The Better In us All, I Trust. But His 
   Experience, As You Have Related it, Raises Some Perplexing Questions. Do 
   You Think He Is A Christian?" 
     
     
     
   "I Do Not Know. I Think He Is," Replied mrs. Arnot. 
     
     
     
   "When Do You Think He Became A Christian?" 
     
     
     
   "Still Less Can I Answer That Question Definitely." 
     
     
     
   "But Would Not One Naturally Think It Was When He Was Conscious Of That 
   Happy Change In the Study Of Good Old Dr. Marks?" 
     
     
     
   "Poor Haldane Has Been Conscious Of Many Changes And Experiences, But I 
   Do Not Despise Or Make Light Of Any Of Them. It Is Certainly Sensible To 
   Believe That Every Effect Has A Cause; And For One I Believe That These 
   Strange, Mystical, And Often Rich And Rapturous Experiences, Are Largely 
   And Perhaps Wholly Caused in many Instances By The Direct Action Of 
   God'S Spirit On The Human Spirit. Again, It Would Seem That Men'S 
   Religious Natures Are Profoundly Stirred by Human And Earthly Causes, 
   For The Emotion Ceases With The Cause. It Appears To Me That If People 
   Would Only Learn To Look At These Experiences In a Sensible Way, They 
   Would Be The Better And Wiser For Them. We Are Thus Taught What A Grand 
   Instrument The Soul Is, And Of What Divine Harmonies And Profound 
   Emotions It Is Capable When Played upon By Any Adequate Power. To Expect 
   To Maintain This Exaltation With Our Present Nature Is Like Requiring Of 
   The Athlete That He Never Relax His Muscles, Or Of The Prima Donna That 
   She Never Cease The Exquisite Trill Which Is But The Momentary Proof Of 
   What Her Present Organization Is Capable. And Yet It Would Appear That 
   Many, Like Poor Haldane, Are Tempted on One Hand To Entertain No 
   Christian Hope Because They Cannot Produce These Deep And Happy 
   Emotions; Or, On The Other Hand, To Give Up Christian Hope Because These 
   Emotions Cease In the Inevitable Reaction That Follows Them. In my 
   Opinion It Is When We Accept Of Christ As Saviour And Guide We Become 
   Christians, And A Christian Life Is The Maintenance Of This Simple Yet 
   Vital Relationship. We Thus Continue Branches Of The 'True Vine.' I 
   Think Haldane Has Formed this Relationship." 
     
     
     
   "It Would Seem From Your Account That He Had Formed it, Consciously, But 
   A Very Brief Time Since," Said Dr. Barlow, "And Yet For Weeks Previous 
   He Had Been Putting Forth What Closely Resembles Christian Effort, 
   Exercising Christian Forbearance, And For A Time At Least Enjoying Happy 
   Spiritual Experiences. Can You Believe That All This Is Possible To One 
   Who Is Yet Dead In trespasses And Sins?" 
     
     
     
   "My Dear Dr. Barstow, I Cannot Apply Your Systematic Theology To All Of 
   God'S Creatures Any More Than I Could Apply A Rigid And Carefully 
   Lined-Out System Of Parental Affection And Government To Your Household. 
   I Know That You Love All Of Your Children, Both When They Are Good And 
   When They Are Bad, And That You Are Ever Trying To Help The Naughty Ones 
   To Be Better. I Am Inclined to Think That I Could Learn More Sound 
   Theology On These Points In your Nursery And Dining-Room Than In your 
   Study. I Am Sure, However, That God Does Not Wait Till His Little 
   Bewildered children Reach A Certain Theological Mile-Stone Before 
   Reaching Out His Hand To Guide And Help Them." 
     
     
     
   "You Are Both Better Theologians Than I Am," Said Mr. Ivison, "And I 
   Shall Not Enter The Lists With You On That Ground; But I Know What 
   Mill-Life Is To One Of His Caste And Feeling, And His Taking Such Work, 
   And His Sticking To It Under The Circumstances, Is An Exhibition Of More 
   Pluck Than Most Young Men Possess. And Yet It Was His Only Chance, For 
   When People Get Down As Low As He Was They Must Take Any Honest Work In 
   Order To Obtain A Foothold. Even Now, Burdened as He Is By An Evil Name, 
   It Is Difficult To See How He Can Rise Any Higher." 
     
     
     
   "Could You Not Give Him A Clerkship?" Asked mrs. Arnot. 
     
     
     
   "No, I Could Not Introduce Him Among My Other Clerks. They Would Resent 
   It As An Insult." 
     
     
     
   "You Could Do This," Said Mrs. Arnot With A Slight Flush, "But I Do Not 
   Urge It Or Even Ask It. You Are In a Position To Show Great And Generous 
   Kindness Toward This Young Man. As He Who Was Highest Stooped to The 
   Lowliest, So Those High In station And Influence Can Often Stoop To The 
   Humble And Fallen With A Better Grace Than Those Hearer To Them In rank. 
   If You Believe This Young Man Is Now Trustworthy, And That Trusting Him 
   Would Make Him Still More So, You Could Give Him A Desk In your Private 
   Office, And Thus Teach Your Clerks A Larger Charity. The Influential And 
   Assured in position Must Often Take The Lead In these Matters." 
     
     
     
   Mr. Ivison Thought A Moment, And Then Said: "Your Proposition Is 
   Unusual, Mrs. Arnot, But I'Ll Think Of It. I Make No Promises, However." 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Ivison," Added mrs. Arnot, In her Smiling, Happy Way, "I Hope You 
   May Make A Great Deal Of Money Out Of Your Business This Year; But If, 
   By Means Of It, You Can Also Aid In making a Good And True Man, You Will 
   Be Still Better Off. Dr. Barstow Here Can Tell You How Sure Such 
   Investments Are." 
     
     
     
   "If I Should Follow Your Lead And That Of Dr. Barstow, All My Real 
   Estate Would Be In the 'Celestial City,'" Laughed mr. Ivison. "But I 
   Have A Special Admiration For The Grace Of Clear Grit, And This Young 
   Fellow, In declining His Mother'S Offer And Trying To Stand On His Feet 
   Here In hillaton, Where Every One Is Ready To Tread Him Down, Shows 
   Pluck, Whatever Else Is Wanting. I'Ve Had My Eye On Him For Some Time, 
   And I'M About Satisfied he'S Trying To Do Right. But It Is Difficult To 
   Know What To Do For One With His Ugly Reputation. I Will See What Can Be 
   Done, However." 
     
     
     
   That Same Evening Chilly Autumn Winds Were Blowing Without, And Mr. 
   Growther'S Passion For A Wood Fire Upon The Hearth Was An Indulgence To 
   Which Haldane No Longer Objected. The Frugal Supper Was Over, And The 
   Two Oddly Diverse Occupants Of The Quaint Old Kitchen Glowered at The 
   Red coals In silence, Each Busy With His Own Thoughts. At Last Haldane 
   Gave A Long Deep Sigh, Which Drew To Him At Once Mr. Growther'S Small 
   Twinkling Eyes. 
     
     
     
   "Tough Old World, Isn'T It, For Sinners Like Us?" He Remarked. 
     
     
     
   "Well, Mr. Growther, I'Ve Got Rather Tired of Inveighing against The 
   World; I'M Coming To Think That The Trouble Is Largely With Myself." 
     
     
     
   "Umph!" Snarled the Old Man, "I'Ve Allers Knowed the Trouble Was With 
   Me, For Of All Crabbed, Cranky, Cantankerous, Old--" 
     
     
     
   "Hold On," Cried haldane, Laughing, "Don'T You Remember What Mrs. Arnot 
   Said About Being Unjust To One'S Self? The Only Person That I Have Ever 
   Known You To Wrong Is Jeremiah Growther, And It Seems To Me That You Do 
   Treat Him Outrageously Sometimes." 
     
     
     
   At The Name Of Mrs. Arnot The Old Man'S Face Softened, And He Rubbed his 
   Hands Together As He Chuckled, "How Satan Must Hate That Woman!" 
     
     
     
   "I Was In hopes That Her Words Might Lead You To Be A Little Juster To 
   Yourself," Continued haldane, "And It Has Seemed to Me That You, As Well 
   As I, Have Been In a Better Mood Of Late." 
     
     
     
   "I Don'T Take No Stock In myself At All," Said Mr. Growther 
   Emphatically. "I'M A Crooked stick And Allers Will Be--A Reg'Lar Old 
   Gnarled knotty Stick, With Not 'Nuff Good Timber In it To Make A Penny 
   Whistle. That I Haven'T Been In as Cussin' A State As Usual Isn'T 
   Because I Think Any Better Of Myself, But Your Mrs. Arnot Has Set Me 
   A-Thinkin' On A New Track. She Come To See Me One Day While You Was At 
   The Mill, And We Had A Real Speret'Al Tussel. I Argufied my Case In such 
   A Way That She Couldn'T Git Round It, And I Proved to Her That I Was The 
   Driest And Crookedest Old Stick That Ever The Devil Twisted out O' Shape 
   When It Was A-Growin'. On A Suddent She Turned the Argerment Agin Me In 
   A Way That Has Stumped me Ever Since. 'You Are Right, Mr. Growther,' She 
   Said, 'It Was The Devil And Not The Lord That Twisted you Out Of Shape. 
   Now Who'S The Stronger,' She Says, 'And Who'S Goin' To Have His Own Way 
   In The End? Suppose You Are Very Crooked, Won'T The Lord Get All The 
   More Glory In making You Straight, And Won'T His Victory Be All The 
   Greater Over The Evil One?' Says I, 'Mrs. Arnot, That'S Puttin' My Case 
   In A New Light. If I Should Be Straightened out, It Would Be The 
   Awfulest Set-Back Old Nick Ever Had; And If Such A Thing Should Happen 
   He'D Never Feel Sure Of Any One After That.' Then She Turned on Me 
   Kinder Sharp, And Says She, 'What Right Have You To Say That God Is 
   Allers Lookin' Round For Easy Work? What Would You Think Of A Doctor Who 
   Would Take Only Slight Cases, And Have Nothing To Do With People Who 
   Were Gittin' Dangerous-Like? Isn'T Jesus Christ The Great Physician, And 
   Don'T Your Common-Sense Tell You That He Is Jist As Able To Cure You As 
   A Little Child?' 
     
     
     
   "I Declare I Was Stumped. Like That Ill-Mannered cuss In the Scripter 
   Who Thought His Old Clothes Good Enough For The Weddin', I Was 
   Speechless. 
     
     
     
   "But I Got A Worse Knock Down Than That. Says She, 'Mr. Growther, I Will 
   Not Dispute All The Hard Things You Have Said Of Yourself (You See I Had 
   Beat Her On That Line Of Argerment); I Won'T Dispute All That You Say 
   (And I Felt A Little Sot Up Agin, For I Didn'T Know What She Was 
   A-Drivin' At), But,' Says She, 'I Think You'Ve Got Some Natural 
   Feelin'S. Suppose You Had A Little Son, And While He Was Out In the 
   Street A Wicked man Should Carry Him Off And Treat Him So Cruelly That, 
   Instead Of Growin' To Be Strong And Fine-Lookin', He Should Become A 
   Puny, Deformed little Critter. Suppose At Last You Should Hear Where He 
   Was, And That He Was Longin' To Escape From The Cruel Bands Of His Harsh 
   Master, Who Kept On A-Treatin' Of Him Worse And Worse, Would You, His 
   Father, Go And Coolly Look At Him And Say, "If You Was Only A Handsome 
   Boy, With A Strong Mind In a Strong Body, I'D Deliver You Out Of This 
   Tyrant'S Clutches And Take You Back To Be My Son Again; But Since You 
   Are A Poor, Weak, Deformed little Critter, That Can Never Do Much, Or Be 
   Much, I'Ll Leave You Here To Be Abused and Tormented as Before"--Is 
   That What You Would Do, Mr. Growther?' 
     
     
     
   "Well, She Spoke It All So Earnest And Real-Like That I Got Off My 
   Guard, And I Jist Riz Right Up From My Cheer, And I Got Hold Of My Heavy 
   Old Cane There, And It Seemed as If My Hair Stood Right Up On End, I Was 
   That Mad At The Old Curmudgeon That Had My Boy, And I Half Shouts, 'No! 
   That Ain'T What I'D Do, I'D Go For That Cuss That Stole My Boy, And For 
   Every Blow He'D Given The Little Chap, I'D Give Him A Hundred.' 
     
     
     
   "'But What Would You Do With The Poor Little Boy?' She Asks. At That I 
   Began To Choke, My Feelin'S Was So Stirred up, And Moppin' My Eyes, I 
   Said, 'Poor Little Chap, All Beaten And Abused out O' Shape! What Would 
   I Do With Him? Why, I Couldn'T Do 'Nuff For Him In tryn' To Make Him 
   Forget All The Hard Times He'D Had.' Then Says She, 'You Would Twit The 
   Child With Bein' Weak, Puny, And Deformed, Would You?' I Was Now 
   Hobblin' Up And Down The Room In a Great State Of Excitement, And Says 
   I, 'Mrs. Arnot, Mean A Man As I Am, I Wouldn'T Treat Any Human Critter 
   So, Let Alone My Own Flesh And Blood, That Had Been So Abused that It 
   Makes My Heart Ache To Think On'T.' 
     
     
     
   "'Don'T You Think You Would Love The Boy A Little Even Though He Had A 
   Hump On His Back And His Features Were Thin And Sharp And Pale?' 'Mrs. 
   Arnot,' Says I, Moppin' My Eyes Agin, 'If You Say Another Word About The 
   Little Chap I Shall Be Struck All Of A Heap, Fur My Heart Jist Kinder-- 
   Kinder Pains Like A Toothache To Do Somethin' For Him.' Then All Of A 
   Suddent She Turns On Me Sharp Agin, And Says She, 'I Think You Are A 
   Very Inconsistent Man, Mr. Growther. You Have Been Runnin' Yourself 
   Down, And Yet You Claim To Be Better Than Your Maker. He Calls Himself 
   Our Heavenly Father, And Yet You Are Sure That You Have A Kinder And 
   More Fatherly Heart Than He. You Are One Of His Little, Weak, Deformed 
   Children, Twisted all Out Of Shape, As You Have Described, By His Enemy 
   And Yours, And Yet You The Same As Say That You Would Act A Great Deal 
   More Like A True Father Toward Your Child Than He Will Toward His. You 
   Virtually Say That You Would Rescue Your Child And Be Pitiful And Tender 
   Toward Him, But That Your Heavenly Father Will Leave You In the Clutches 
   Of The Cruel Enemy, Or Exact Conditions That You Cannot Comply With 
   Before Doing anything For You. Haven'T You Read In the Bible That "Like 
   As A Father Pitieth His Children, So The Lord Pitieth Them That Fear 
   Him"? You Think Very Meanly Of Yourself, But You Appear To Think More 
   Meanly Of God. Where Is Your Warrant For Doing So?' 
     
     
     
   "The Truth Bust In on Me Like The Sunlight Into This Old Kitchen When We 
   Open The Shutters Of A Summer Mornin'. I Saw That I Was So Completely 
   Floored in the Argerment, And Had Made Such A Blasted old Fool Of Myself 
   All These Years, That I Just Looked around For A Knot-Hole To Crawl 
   Into. I Didn'T Know Which Way To Look, But At Last I Looked at Her, And 
   My Withered old Heart Gave A Great Thump When I Saw Two Tears A-Standin' 
   In Her Eyes. Then She Jumps Up And Gives Me That Warm Hand O' Her'N And 
   Says: 'Mr. Growther, Whenever You Wish To Know How God Feels Toward You, 
   Think How You Felt Toward That Little Chap That Was Abused and Beaten 
   All Out O' Shape,' And She Was Gone. Well, The Upshot Of It All Is That 
   I Don'T Think A Bit Better Of Myself--Not One Bit--But That Weakly 
   Little Chap, With A Peaked face And A Hump On His Back, That Mrs. Arnot 
   Made So Real-Like That I See Him A-Lookin' At Me Out Of The Cheer There 
   Half The Time--He'S A Makin' Me Better Acquainted with The Lord, For The 
   Lord Knows I'Ve Got A Hump On My Back And Humps All Over; But I Keep 
   A-Sayin' To Myself, 'Like As A Father Pitieth His Children,' And I Don'T 
   Feel Near As Much Like Cussin' As I Used to. That Little Chap That Mrs. 
   Arnot Described is Doin' Me A Sight O' Good, And If I Could Find Some 
   Poor Little Critter Just Like Him, With No One To Look After Him, I'D 
   Take Him In and Do For Him In a Minit." 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Growther," Said Haldane, Huskily, "You Have Found That Poor 
   Misshapen, Dwarfed creature That I Fear Will Never Attain The 
   Proportions Of A True Man. Of Course You See Through Mrs. Arnot'S 
   Imagery. In befriending Me You Are Caring For One Who Is Weak And Puny 
   Indeed." 
     
     
     
   "Oh, You Won'T Answer," Said Mr. Growther With A Laugh. "I Can See That 
   Your Humps Is Growin' Wisibly Less Every Day, And You'Re Too Big And 
   Broad-Shouldered for Me To Be A Pettin' And A Yearnin' Over. I Want Jest 
   Such A Peaked little Chap As Mrs. Arnot Pictured out, And That'S Doin' 
   Me Such A Sight O' Good." 
     
     
     
   Again The Two Occupants Of The Old Kitchen Gazed at The Fire For A Long 
   Time In silence, And Again There Came From The Young Man The Same 
   Long-Drawn Sigh That Had Attracted mr. Growther'S Attention Before. 
     
     
     
   "That'S The Second Time," He Remarked. 
     
     
     
   "I Was Thinking," Said Haldane, Rising To Retire, "Whether I Shall Ever 
   Have Better Work Than This Odious Routine At The Mill." 
     
     
     
   Mr. Growther Pondered over The Question A Few Minutes, And Then Said 
   Sententiously: "I'M Inclined to Think The Lord Gives Us As Good Work As 
   We'Re Cap'Ble Of Doin'. He'Ll Promote You When You'Ve Growed a Little 
   More." 
     
     
     
   
   
   
   Chapter XLIV (Growth) 
   The Next Morning Haldane Received a Message Directing Him To Report At 
   Mr. Ivison'S Private Office During The Noon Recess. 
     
     
     
   "Be Seated," Said That Gentleman As The Young Man, Wearing an Anxious 
   And Somewhat Surprised expression, Entered hesitatingly And Diffidently. 
   "You Need not Look So Troubled, I Have Not Sent For You To Find 
   Fault--Quite The Reverse. You Have 'A Friend At Court,' As The Saying 
   Goes. Not That You Needed one Particularly, For I Have Had My Eye Upon 
   You Myself, And For Some Days Past Have Been Inclined to Give You A 
   Lift. But Last Evening Mrs. Arnot Spoke In your Behalf, And Through Her 
   Words I Have Been Led to Take The Following Step. For Reasons That 
   Perhaps You Can Understand, It Would Be Difficult For Me To Give You A 
   Desk Among My Other Clerks. I Am Not So Sensitive, Now That I Know Your 
   Better Aims, And It Is My Wish That You Take That Desk There, In this, 
   My Private Office. Your Duties Will Be Very Miscellaneous. Sometimes I 
   Shall Employ You As My Errand-Boy, Again I May Intrust You With 
   Important And Confidential Business. I Stipulate That You Perform The 
   Humblest Task As Readily As Any Other." 
     
     
     
   Haldane'S Face Flushed with Pleasure, And He Said Warmly, "I Am Not In a 
   Position, Sir, To Consider Any Honest Work Beneath Me, And After Your 
   Kindness I Shall Regard Any Service I Can Render You As A Privilege." 
     
     
     
   "A Neat Answer," Laughed mr. Ivison. "If You Do Your Work As Well I 
   Shall Be Satisfied. Pluck And Good Sense Will Make A Man Of You Yet. I 
   Want You To Understand Distinctly That It Has Been Your Readiness And 
   Determination, Not Only To Work, But To Do Any Kind Of Work, That Has 
   Won My Good-Will. Here'S A Check For A Month'S Salary In advance. Be 
   Here To-Morrow At Nine, Dressed suitably For Your New Position. 
   Good-Morning." 
     
     
     
   "Halloo! What'S Happened?" Asked mr. Growther As Haldane Came In that 
   Evening With Face Aglow With Gladness And Excitement. 
     
     
     
   "According To Your Theory I'Ve Been Promoted sure," Laughed the Youth, 
   And He Related the Unexpected event Of The Day. 
     
     
     
   "That'S Jest Like Mrs. Arnot," Said Mr. Growther, Rubbing His Hands As 
   He Ever Did When Pleased; "She'S Allers Givin' Some Poor Critter A 
   Boost. T'Other Day 'Twas Me, Now Agin It'S You, And They Say She'S 
   Helpin' Lots More Along. St. Peter Will Have To Open The Gate Wide When 
   She Comes In with Her Crowd. 'Pears To Me Sometimes That I Can Fairly 
   Hear Satan A-Gnashin' Of His Teeth Over That Woman. She'S The Wust Enemy 
   He Has In town." 
     
     
     
   "I Wish I Might Show Her How Grateful I Am Some Day," Said Haldane, With 
   Moistened eyes; "But I Clearly Foresee That I Can Never Repay Her." 
     
     
     
   "No Matter If You Can'T," Replied the Old Man. "She Don'T Want Any Pay. 
   It'S Her Natur' To Do These Things." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Gave His Whole Mind To The Mastery Of His New Duties, And After 
   A Few Natural Blunders Speedily Acquired a Facility In the Diverse Tasks 
   Allotted him. In a Manner That Was Perfectly Unobtrusive And Respectful 
   He Watched his Employer, Studied his Methods And Habit Of Mind, And Thus 
   Gained the Power Of Anticipating His Wishes. Mr. Ivison Began To Find 
   His Office And Papers Kept In just The Order He Liked, The Temperature 
   Maintained at A Pleasant Medium, And To Receive Many Little Nameless 
   Attentions That Added to His Comfort And Reduced the Wear And Tear Of 
   Life To A Hurried business-Man; And When In emergencies Haldane Was 
   Given Tasks That Required brains, He Proved that He Possessed a Fair 
   Share Of Them. 
     
     
     
   After Quite A Lapse Of Time Mr. Ivison Again Happened to Meet Mrs. 
   Arnot, And He Said To Her: 
     
     
     
   "Haldane Thinks You Did Him A Great Kindness In suggesting Our Present 
   Arrangement; But I Am Inclined to Think You Did Me A Greater, For You 
   Have No Idea How Useful The Young Fellow Is Making Himself To Me." 
     
     
     
   "Then You Will Have To Find A New Object Of Benevolence," Answered the 
   Lady, "Or You Will Have All Your Reward In this World." 
     
     
     
   "There It Is Again," Said Mr. Ivison, With His Hearty Laugh, "You And 
   Dr. Barstow Give A Man No Peace. I'M Going To Take Breath Before I 
   Strike In again." 
     
     
     
   In His New Employment, Haldane, From The First, Had Found Considerable 
   Leisure On His Hands, And After A Little Thought Decided to Review 
   Carefully The Studies Over Which He Had Passed so Superficially In his 
   Student Days. 
     
     
     
   Mr. Growther Persisted in occupying The Kitchen, Leaving What Had Been 
   Designed as The Parlor Or Sitting-Room Of His Cottage To Dust And Damp. 
   With His Permission The Young Man Fitted this Up As A Study, And Bought 
   A Few Popular Works On Science, As The Nucleus Of A Library. After 
   Supper He Read The Evening Paper To Mr. Growther, Who Soon Fell Into A 
   Doze, And Then Haldane Would Steal Away To His Own Quarters And Pursue 
   With Zest, Until A Late Hour, Some Study That Had Once Seemed to Him 
   Utterly Dry And Unattractive. 
     
     
     
   Thus The Months Glided rapidly And Serenely Away, And He Was Positively 
   Happy In a Mode Of Life That He Once Would Have Characterized as 
   Odiously Humdrum. The Terrible World, Whose Favor Had Formerly Seemed 
   Essential, And Its Scorn Unendurable, Was Almost Forgotten; And As He 
   Continued at His Duties So Steadily And Unobtrusively The Hostile World 
   Began To Unbend Gradually Its Frowning aspect Toward Him. Those Whom He 
   Daily Met In business Commenced with A Nod Of Recognition, And 
   Eventually Ended with A Pleasant Word. At Church An Increasing Number 
   Began To Speak To Him, Not Merely As A Christian Duty, But Because The 
   Young Man'S Sincere And Earnest Manner Interested them And Inspired 
   Respect. 
     
     
     
   The Fact That He Recognized that He Was Under A Cloud And Did Not Try To 
   Attract Attention, Worked in his Favor. He Never Asked the Alms Of A 
   Kindly Word Or Glance, By Looking appealingly To One And Another. It 
   Became His Habit To Walk With His Eyes Downcast, Not Speaking To Nor 
   Looking Toward Any One Unless First Addressed. At The Same Time His 
   Bearing Was Manly And Erect, And Marked by A Certain Quiet Dignity Which 
   Inevitably Characterizes All Who Are Honestly Trying To Do Right. 
     
     
     
   Because He Asked so Little Of Society It Was The More Disposed to Give, 
   And From A Point Of Bare Toleration It Passed on To A Willingness To 
   Patronize With A Faint Encouraging Smile. And Yet It Was The General 
   Feeling That One Whose Name Had Been So Sadly Besmirched must Be Kept At 
   More Than Arm'S-Length. 
     
     
     
   "He May Get To Heaven," Said An Old Lady Who Was Remarking Upon His 
   Regular Attendance At Church, "But He Can Never Hope To Be Received in 
   Good Society Again." 
     
     
     
   In The Meantime The Isolated youth Was Finding Such An Increasing Charm 
   In The Companionship Of The Gifted minds Who Spoke To Him From The 
   Printed pages Of His Little Library That He Felt The Deprivation Less 
   And Less. 
     
     
     
   But An Hour With Mrs. Arnot Was One Of His Chief Pleasures, To Which He 
   Looked forward With Glad Anticipation. For A Long Time He Could Not 
   Bring Himself To Go To Her House Or To Take The Risk Of Meeting any Of 
   Her Other Guests, And In order To Overcome His Reluctance She 
   Occasionally Set Apart An Evening For Him Alone And Was "Engaged" To All 
   Others. These Were Blessed hours To The Lonely Young Fellow, And Their 
   Memory Made Him Stronger And More Hopeful For Days Thereafter. 
     
     
     
   In His Christian Experience He Was Gaining a Quiet Serenity And 
   Confidence. He Had Fully Settled it In his Mind, As Mrs. Arnot Had 
   Suggested, That Jesus Christ Was Both Willing and Able To Save Him, And 
   He Simply Trusted and Tried to Follow. 
     
     
     
   "Come," Said That Lady To Him One Evening, "It'S Time You Found A Nook 
   In The Vineyard And Went To Work." 
     
     
     
   He Shook His Head Emphatically As He Replied, "I Do Not Feel Myself 
   Either Competent Or Worthy. Besides, Who Would Listen To Me?" 
     
     
     
   "Many Might With Profit. You Can Carry Messages From Mr. Ivison, Can You 
   Not Take A Message From Your Divine Master? I Have Thought It All Over, 
   And Can Tell You Where You Will Be Listened to At Least, And Where You 
   May Do Much Good. I Went, Last Sunday, To The Same Prison In which I 
   Visited you. And I Read To The Inmates. It Would Be A Moral Triumph For 
   You, Egbert, To Go Back There As A Christian Man And With The Honest 
   Purpose Of Doing Good. It Would Be Very Pleasant For Me To Think Of You 
   At Work There Every Sabbath. Make The Attempt, To Please Me, If For No 
   Better Reason." 
     
     
     
   "That Settles The Question, Mrs. Arnot," Said Haldane, With A Troubled 
   Smile. "I Would Try To Preach In choctaw, If You Requested it, And I 
   Fear All That I Can Say 'Out O' My Own Head,' As Mr. Growther Would Put 
   It, Will Be Worse Than Choctaw. But I Can At Least Read To The 
   Prisoners; That Is," He Added, With Downcast Eyes And A Flush Of His Old 
   Shame, "If They Will Listen To Me, Which I Much Doubt. You, With Your 
   Large Generous Sympathies, Can Never Understand How Greatly I Am 
   Despised, Even By My Own Class." 
     
     
     
   "Please Remember That I Am Of Your Class Now, For You Are Of The 
   Household Of Faith. I Know What You Mean, Egbert. I Am Glad That You Are 
   So Diffident And So Little Inclined to Ask On The Ground Of Your 
   Christian Profession That The Past Be Overlooked. If There Is One Thing 
   That Disgusts Me More Than Another It Is The Disposition To Make One'S 
   Religion A Stepping-Stone To Earthly Objects And The Means Of Forcing 
   Upon Others A Familiarity Or A Relationship That Is Offensive To Them. I 
   Cannot Help Doubting a Profession Of Faith That Is Put To Such Low Uses. 
   I Know That You Have Special Reason For Humility, But You Must Not Let 
   It Develop Into Timidity. All I Ask Is That You Read To Such Poor 
   Creatures In the Prison As Will Listen To You A Chapter In the Bible, 
   And Explain It As Well As You Can, And Then Read Something Else That You 
   Think Will Interest Them." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Made The Attempt, And Met, At First, As He Feared, With But 
   Indifferent Success. Even Criminals Looked at Him Askance As He Came In 
   The Guise Of A Religious Teacher. But His Manner Was So Unassuming, And 
   The Spirit "I Am Better Than Thou" Was So Conspicuously Absent, That A 
   Few Were Disarmed, And Partly Out Of Curiosity, And Partly To Kill The 
   Time That Passed so Slowly, They Gathered at His Invitation. He Sat Down 
   Among Them As If One Of Them, And In a Voice That Trembled with 
   Diffidence Read A Chapter From The Gospels. Since He "Put On No Airs," 
   As They Said, One And Another Drew Near Until All The Inmates Of The 
   Jail Were Grouped around Him. Having Finished the Chapter, Haldane 
   Closed the Bible And Said: 
     
     
     
   "I Do Not Feel Competent To Explain This Chapter. Perhaps Many Of You 
   Understand It Better Than I Do. I Did Not Even Feel That I Was Worthy To 
   Come Here And Read The Chapter To You, But The Christian Lady Who 
   Visited you Last Sunday Asked me To Come, And I Would Do Anything For 
   Her. She Visited me When I Was A Prisoner Like You, And Through Her 
   Influence I Am Trying To Be A Better Man. I Know, My Friends, From Sad 
   Experience, That When We Get Down Under Men'S Feet, And Are Sent To 
   Places Like These, We Lose Heart And Hope; We Feel That There Is No 
   Chance For Us To Get Up Again, We Are Tempted to Be Despairing and 
   Reckless; But Through The Kindness And Mercy Of That Good Lady, Mrs. 
   Arnot, I Learned of A Kindness And Mercy Greater Even Than Hers. The 
   World May Hate Us, Scorn Us, And Even Trample Us Down, And If We Will Be 
   Honest With Ourselves We Must Admit That We Have Given It Some Reason To 
   Do All This--At Least I Feel That I Have--But The World Can'T Keep Us 
   Down, And What Is Far Worse Than The World, The Evil In our Own Hearts 
   Can'T Keep Us Down, If We Ask Jesus Christ To Help Us Up. I Am Finding 
   This Out By Experience, And So Know The Truth Of What I Am Saying. This 
   Bible Tells Us About This Strong, Merciful One, This Friend Of Publicans 
   And Sinners, And If You Would Like Me To Come Here Sunday Afternoons And 
   Read About Him, I Will Do So Very Gladly, But I Don'T Wish To Force 
   Myself Upon You If I'M Not Wanted." 
     
     
     
   "Come, My Hearty, Come Every Time," Said An Old Sailor, With A 
   Resounding Oath. "Tain'T Likely I'Ll Ever Ship With Your Captain, For 
   Sech As I'Ve Come To Be Couldn'T Pass Muster. Howsumever, It'S Kind O' 
   Comfortin' To Hear One Talk As If There Was Plenty Of Sea-Room, Even 
   When A Chap Knows He'S Drivin' Straight On The Rocks." 
     
     
     
   "Come, Oh, Come Again," Entreated the Tremulous Voice Of One Who Was 
   Crouching a Little Back Of His Chair. 
     
     
     
   Haldane Turned, And With A Start Recognized the Fair Young Girl, Whose 
   Blue Eyes And Madonna-Like Face Had, For A Moment, Even In the Agony Of 
   His Own Shame, Secured his Attention While In the Police Court, More 
   Than A Year Before. She Was Terribly Changed, And Yet By That Strange 
   Principle By Which We Keep Our Identity Through All Mutations, Haldane 
   Knew That She Was The Same, And Felt That By A Glance He Could Almost 
   Trace Back Her Life Through Its Awful Descent To The Time When She Was A 
   Beautiful And Innocent Girl. As A Swift Dark Tide Might Sweep A Summer 
   Pinnace From Its Moorings, And Dash It On The Rocks Until It Became A 
   Crushed and Shapeless Thing, So Passion Or Most Untoward Circumstances 
   Had Suddenly Drawn This Poor Young Creature Among Coarse, Destructive 
   Vices That Had Shattered the Delicate, Womanly Nature In one Short Year 
   Into Utter Wreck. 
     
     
     
   "Come Again," She Whispered in response To Haldane'S Glance; "Come Soon, 
   Or Else I Shall Be In my Grave, And I'Ve Got The Awful Fear That It Is 
   The Mouth Of The Bottomless Pit. Otherwise I'D Be Glad To Be In it." 
     
     
     
   "Poor Child!" Said Haldane, Tears Coming Into His Eyes. 
     
     
     
   "Ah!" She Gasped, "Will God Pity Me Like That?" 
     
     
     
   "Yes, For The Bible Says, 'The Lord Is Very Pitiful And Of Tender 
   Mercy,' My Own Despairing Thoughts Have Taught Me To Look For All Of 
   God'S Promises." 
     
     
     
   "You Know Nothing Of The Depths Into Which I Have Fallen," She Said In a 
   Low Tone; "I Can See That In your Face." 
     
     
     
   Again Haldane Ejaculated, "Poor Child!" With A Heartfelt Emphasis That 
   Did More Good Than The Longest Homily. Then Finding The Bible Story 
   Which Commences, "And, Behold, A Woman In the City, Which Was A Sinner," 
   He Turned a Leaf Down Saying: 
     
     
     
   "I Am Neither Wise Enough Nor Good Enough To Guide You, But I Know That 
   Mrs. Arnot Will Come And See You. I Shall Leave My Bible With You, And, 
   Until She Comes, Read Where I Have Marked." 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Did Come, And The Pure, High-Born Woman Shut The Door Of The 
   Narrow Cell, And Taking The Head Of Her Fallen Sister Into Her Lap, 
   Listened with Responsive Tears To The Piteous Story, As It Was Told With 
   Sighs, Sobs, And Strong Writhings Of Anguish. 
     
     
     
   As The Girl Became Calmer And Her Mind Emerged from The Chaos Of Her 
   Tempestuous And Despairing Sorrow, Mrs. Arnot Led her, As It Were, To 
   The Very Feet Of Jesus Of Nazareth, And Left Her There With These Words: 
     
     
     
   "He Came To Seek And Save Just Such As You Are--The Lost. He Is Reaching 
   Down His Rescuing Hand Of Love To You, And When You Grasp It In simple 
   Confiding Trust You Are Saved." 
     
     
     
   Before The Week Closed, The Poor Creature Forever Turned her Face Away 
   From The World In which She Had So Deeply Sinned and Suffered: But 
   Before She Departed on The Long Journey, He Who Alone Can Grant To The 
   Human Soul Full Absolution, Had Said To Her, "Thy Sins Are Forgiven; Go 
   In Peace." 
     
     
     
   As Mrs. Arnot Held Her Dying Head She Whispered, "Tell Him That It Was 
   His Tears Of Honest Sympathy That First Gave Me Hope." 
     
     
     
   That Message Had A Vital Influence Over Haldane'S Subsequent Life. 
   Indeed these Words Of The Poor Dying Waif Were Potent Enough To Shape 
   All His Future Career. He Was Taught By Them The Magnetic Power Of 
   Sympathy, And That He Who In the Depths Of His Heart Feels For His 
   Fellow-Creatures, Can Help Them. He Had Once Hoped that He Would Dazzle 
   Men'S Eyes By The Brilliancy Of His Career, But He Had Long Since 
   Concluded that He Must Plod Along The Lowly Paths Of Life. Until His 
   Visit To The Prison And Its Results The Thought Had Scarcely Occurred to 
   Him That He Could Help Others. He Had Felt That He Had Been Too Sorely 
   Wounded himself Ever To Be More Than An Invalid In the World'S Hospital; 
   But He Now Began To Learn That His Very Sin And Suffering Enabled him To 
   Approach Nearer To Those Who Were, As He Was Once, On The Brink Of 
   Despair Or In the Apathy Of Utter Discouragement, And To Aid Them More 
   Effectively Because Of His Kindred experience. 
     
     
     
   The Truth That He, In the Humblest Possible Way, Could Engage In the 
   Noble Work For Which He Revered mrs. Arnot, Came Like A Burst Of 
   Sunlight Into His Shadowed life, And His Visits To The Prison Were 
   Looked forward To With Increasing Zest. 
     
     
     
   From Reading The Chapter Merely He Came To Venture On A Few Comments. 
   Then Questions Were Asked, And He Tried to Answer Some, And Frankly Said 
   He Could Not Answer Others. But These Questions Stimulated his Mind And 
   Led to Thought And Wider Reading. To His Own Agreeable Surprise, As Well 
   As That Of His Prison Class, He Occasionally Was Able To Bring, On The 
   Following Sabbath, A Very Satisfactory Answer To Some Of The Questions; 
   And This Suggested the Truth That All Questions Could Be Answered if 
   Only Time And Wisdom Enough Could Be Brought To Bear Upon Them. 
     
     
     
   He Gradually Acquired a Facility In expressing His Thoughts, And, Better 
   Still, He Had Thoughts To Express. Some Of The Prisoners, Who Were In 
   Durance But For A Brief Time, Asked him To Take A Class In the 
   Guy-Street Mission Chapel. 
     
     
     
   "They Will Scarcely Want Me There As A Teacher," He Said With A Slight 
   Flush. 
     
     
     
   But The Superintendent And Pastor, After Some Hesitation And Inquiry, 
   Concluded they Did Want Him There, And With Some Ex-Prisoners As A 
   Nucleus, He Unobtrusively Formed a Class Near The Door. The Two Marked 
   Characteristics Of His Christian Efforts--Downright Sincerity And 
   Sympathy--Were Like Strong, Far-Reaching Hands, And His Class Began To 
   Grow Until It Swamped the Small Neighboring Classes With Uncouth And 
   Unkempt-Looking Creatures That Were Drawn By The Voice That Asserted 
   Their Manhood And Womanhood In spite Of Their Degradation. Finally, 
   Before Another Year Ended, A Large Side-Room Was Set Apart For Haldane 
   And His Strange Following, And He Made Every One That Entered it, No 
   Matter How Debased, Believe That There Were Possibilities Of Good In 
   Them Yet, And He Was Able To Impart This Encouraging Truth Because He So 
   Thoroughly Believed it Himself. 
     
     
     
   As He Stood Before That Throng Of Publicans And Sinners, Gathered from 
   The Slums Of The City, And, With His Fine Face Lighted up With Thought 
   And Sympathy, Spoke To Them The Truth In such A Way That They Understood 
   It And Felt Its Power, One Could Scarcely Have Believed that But Two 
   Years Before He Had Been Dragged from A Drunken Brawl To The Common 
   Jail. The Explanation Is Simple--He Had Followed closely That Same 
   Divine Master Who Had Taught The Fishermen Of Galilee. 
   
   
   
   Chapter XLV (Laura Romeyn) 
   Mrs. Haldane And Her Daughters Found European Life So Decidedly To Their 
   Taste That It Was Doubtful Whether They Would Return For Several Years. 
   The Son Wrote Regularly To His Mother, For He Had Accepted of The Truth 
   Of Mrs. Arnot'S Words That Nothing Could Excuse Him From The Sacred 
   Duties Which He Owed to Her. As His Fortunes Improved and Time Elapsed 
   Without The Advent Of More Disgraceful Stories, She Also Began To 
   Respond As Frequently And Sympathetically As Could Be Expected of One 
   Taking Her Views Of Life. She Was At Last Brought To Acquiesce In his 
   Plan Of Remaining at Hillaton, If Not To Approve Of It, And After 
   Receiving One Or Two Letters From Mrs. Arnot, She Was Inclined to 
   Believe In the Sincerity Of His Christian Profession. She Began To Share 
   In The Old Lady'S View Already Referred to, That He Might Reach Heaven 
   At Last, But Could Never Be Received in good Society Again. 
     
     
     
   "Egbert Is So Different From Us, My Dears," She Would Sigh To Her 
   Daughters, "That I Suppose We Should Not Judge Him By Our Standards. I 
   Suppose He Is Doing as Well As He Ever Will--As Well Indeed as His 
   Singularly Unnatural Disposition Permits." 
     
     
     
   It Did Not Occur To The Lady That She Was A Trifle Unnatural And 
   Unchristian Herself In permitting Jealousy To Creep Into Her Heart, 
   Because Mrs. Arnot Had Wielded a Power For Good Over Her Son Which She 
   Herself Had Failed to Exert. 
     
     
     
   She Instructed her Lawyer, However, To Pay To Him An Annuity That Was 
   Far Beyond His Needs In his Present Frugal Way Of Living. 
     
     
     
   This Ample Income Enabled him At Once To Carry Out A Cherished purpose, 
   Which Had Been Forming In his Mind For Several Months, And Which He Now 
   Broached to Mrs. Arnot. 
     
     
     
   "For The Last Half Year," He Said, "I Have Thought A Great Deal Over The 
   Possibilities That Life Offers To One Situated as I Am. I Have Tried to 
   Discover Where I Can Make My Life-Work, Maimed and Defective As It Ever 
   Must Be, Most Effective, And It Has Seemed to Me That I Could Accomplish 
   More As A Physician Than In any Other Calling. In this Character I Could 
   Naturally Gain Access To Those Who Are In distress Of Body And Mind, But 
   Who Are Too Poor To Pay For Ordinary Attendance. There Are Hundreds In 
   This City, Especially Little Children, That, Through Vice, Ignorance, Or 
   Poverty, Never Receive Proper Attention In illness. My Services Would 
   Not Be Refused by This Class, Especially If They Were Gratuitous." 
     
     
     
   "You Should Charge For Your Visits, As A Rule," Said Wise Mrs. Arnot. 
   "Never Give Charity Unless It Is Absolutely Necessary." 
     
     
     
   "Well, I Could Charge So Moderately That My Attendance Would Not Be A 
   Burden. I Am Very Grateful To Mr. Ivison For The Position He Gave Me, 
   But I Would Like To Do Something More And Better In life Than I Can 
   Accomplish As His Clerk. A Physician Among The Poor Has So Many Chances 
   To Speak The Truth To Those Who Might Otherwise Never Hear It. Now This 
   Income From My Father'S Estate Would Enable Me To Set About The 
   Necessary Studies At Once, And The Only Question In my Mind Is, Will 
   They Receive Me At The University?" 
     
     
     
   "Egbert," Said Mrs. Arnot, With One Of Those Sudden Illuminations Of Her 
   Face Which He So Loved to See, "Do You Remember What I Said Long Ago, 
   When You Were A Disheartened prisoner, About My Ideal Of Knighthood? If 
   You Keep On You Will Fulfil It." 
     
     
     
   "I Remember It Well," He Replied, "But You Are Mistaken. My Best Hope Is 
   To Find, As You Said Upon Another Occasion, My Own Little Nook In the 
   Vineyard, And Quietly Do My Work There." 
     
     
     
   After Considerable Hesitation The Faculty Of The University Received 
   Haldane As A Student, And Mr. Ivison Parted with Him Very Reluctantly. 
   His Studies For The Past Two Years, And Several Weeks Of Careful Review, 
   Enabled him To Pass The Examinations Required in order To Enter The 
   Junior Year Of The College Course. 
     
     
     
   As His Name Appeared among Those Who Might Graduate In two Years, The 
   World Still Further Relaxed its Rigid And Forbidding aspect, And Not A 
   Few Took Pains To Manifest To Him Their Respect For His Resolute Upward 
   Course. 
     
     
     
   But He Maintained his Old, Distant, Unobtrusive Manner, And No One Was 
   Obliged to Recognize, Much Less To Show, Any Special Kindness To Him, 
   Unless They Chose To Do So. He Evidently Shrank With A Morbid 
   Sensitiveness From Any Social Contact With Those Who, In remembrance Of 
   His Past History, Might Shrink From Him. But He Had Not Been At The 
   University Very Long Before Mrs. Arnot Overcame This Diffidence So Far 
   As To Induce Him To Meet With Certain Manly Fellows Of His Class At Her 
   House. 
     
     
     
   In All The Frank And Friendly Interchange Of Thought Between Mrs. Arnot 
   And The Young Man There Was One To Whom, By Tacit Consent, They Did Not 
   Refer, Except In the Most Casual Manner, And That Was Laura Romeyn. 
   Haldane Had Not Seen Her Since The Time She Stumbled upon Him In his 
   Character Of Wood-Sawyer. He Kept Her Image In a Distant And 
   Doubly-Locked chamber Of His Heart, And Seldom Permitted his Thoughts To 
   Go Thither. Thus The Image Had Faded into A Faint Yet Lovely Outline 
   Which He Had Learned to Look Upon With A Regret That Was Now Scarcely 
   Deep Enough To Be Regarded as Pain. She Had Made One Or Two Brief Visits 
   To Her Aunt, But He Had Taken Care Never To Meet Her. He Had Learned 
   Incidentally, However, That She Had Lost Her Father, And That Her Mother 
   Was Far From Well. 
     
     
     
   When Calling Upon Mrs. Arnot One Blustering March Evening, Toward The 
   Close Of His Junior Year, That Lady Explained her Anxious, Clouded face 
   By Saying That Her Sister, Mrs. Romeyn, Was Very Ill, And After A Moment 
   Added, Half In soliloquy, "What Would She Do Without Laura?" 
     
     
     
   From This He Gathered that The Young Girl Was A Loving Daughter And A 
   Faithful Nurse, And The Image Of A Pale, Yet Lovely Watcher Rose Before 
   Him With Dangerous Frequence And Distinctness. 
     
     
     
   A Day Or Two After He Received a Note From Mrs. Arnot, Informing Him 
   That She Was About To Leave Home For A Visit To Her Invalid Sister, And 
   Might Be Absent Several Weeks. Her Surmise Proved correct, And When She 
   Returned laura Came With Her, And The Deep Mourning Of The Orphan'S 
   Dress But Faintly Reflected the Darker Sorrow That Shrouded her Heart. 
   When, A Few Sabbaths After Her Arrival, Her Veiled figure Passed up The 
   Aisle Of The Church, He Bowed his Head In as Sincere Sympathy As One 
   Person Can Give For The Grief Of Another. 
     
     
     
   For A Long Time He Did Not Venture To Call On Mrs. Arnot, And Then Came 
   Only At Her Request. To His Great Relief, He Did Not See Laura, For He 
   Felt That, Conscious Of Her Great Loss And The Memories Of The Past, He 
   Should Be Speechless In her Presence. To Mrs. Arnot He Said: 
     
     
     
   "Your Sorrow Has Seemed to Me Such A Sacred thing That I Felt That Any 
   Reference To It On My Part Would Be Like A Profane Touch; But I Was Sure 
   You Would Not Misinterpret My Silence Or My Absence, And Would Know That 
   You Were Never Long Absent From My Thoughts." 
     
     
     
   He Was Rewarded by The Characteristic Lighting Up Of Her Face As She 
   Said: 
     
     
     
   "Hillaton Would Scarcely Give You Credit For Such Delicacy Of Feeling, 
   Egbert, But You Are Fulfilling My Faith In you. Neither Have I Forgotten 
   You And Your Knightly Conflict Because I Have Not Seen Or Written To 
   You. You Know Well That My Heart And Hands Have Been Full. And Now A 
   Very Much Longer Time Must Elapse Before We Can Meet Again. In her 
   Devotion To Her Mother My Niece Has Overtaxed her Strength, And Her 
   Physical And Mental Depression Is So Great That Our Physician Strongly 
   Recommends A Year Abroad. You Can See How Intensely Occupied i Have Been 
   In Preparations For Our Hurried departure. We Sail This Week. I Shall 
   See Your Mother, No Doubt, And I Am Glad I Can Tell Her That Which I 
   Should Be Proud To Hear Of A Son Of Mine." 
     
     
     
   The Year That Followed was A Long One To Haldane. He Managed to Keep The 
   Even Tenor Of His Way, But It Was Often As The Soldier Makes His Weary 
   March In the Enemy'S Country, Fighting For And Holding, Step By Step, 
   With Difficulty. His Intense Application In his First Year Of Study And 
   The Excitements Of The Previous Years At Last Told Upon Him, And He 
   Often Experienced days Of Extreme Lassitude And Weariness. At One Time 
   He Was Quite Ill, And Then He Realized how Lonely And Isolated he Was. 
   He Still Kept His Quarters At The Hermitage, But Mr. Growther, With The 
   Kindest Intentions, Was Too Old And Decrepit To Prove Much Of A Nurse. 
     
     
     
   In His Hours Of Enforced idleness His Imagination Began To Retouch The 
   Shadowy Image Of Laura Romeyn With An Ideal Beauty. In his Pain And 
   Weakness Her Character Of Watcher--In Which Her Self-Sacrificing 
   Devotion Had Been So Great As To Impair Her Health--Was Peculiarly 
   Attractive. She Became To Him A Pale And Lovely Saint, Too Remote And 
   Sacred for His Human Love, And Yet Sufficiently Human To Continually 
   Haunt His Mind With A Vague And Regretful Pain That He Could Never Reach 
   Her Side. He Now Learned from Its Loss How Valuable Mrs. Arnot'S Society 
   Had Been To Him. Her Letters, Which Were Full And Moderately Frequent, 
   Could Not Take The Place Of Her Quiet Yet Inspiriting Voice. 
     
     
     
   He Was Lonely, And He Recognized the Fact. While There Were Hundreds Now 
   In Hillaton Who Wished him Well, And Respected him For His Brave 
   Struggle, He Was Too Shadowed by Disgraceful Memories To Be Received 
   Socially Into The Homes That He Would Care To Visit. Some Of The Church 
   People Invited him Out Of A Sense Of Duty, But He Recognized their 
   Motive, And Shrank From Such Constrained courtesy With Increasing 
   Sensitiveness. 
     
     
     
   But, Though He Showed human Weakness And Gave Way To Long Moods Of 
   Despondency, At Times Inclining To Murmur Bitterly At His Lot, He 
   Suffered no Serious Reverses. He Patiently, Even In the Face Of Positive 
   Disinclination, Maintained his Duties. He Remembered how Often The 
   Divine Man, In his Shadowed life, Went Apart For Prayer, And Honestly 
   Tried to Imitate This Example, So Specially Suited to One As Maimed and 
   Imperfect As Himself. 
     
     
     
   He Found That His Prayers Were Answered, That The Strong Friend To Whom 
   He Had Allied his Weakness Did Not Fail Him. He Was Sustained through 
   The Dark Days, And His Faith Eventually Brought Him Peace And Serenity. 
   He Gained in patience And Strength, And With Better Health Came Renewed 
   Hopefulness. 
     
     
     
   Although Not A Brilliant Student, He Was Able To Complete His University 
   Course And Graduate With Credit. He Then Took The First Vacation That He 
   Had Enjoyed for Years, And, Equipping Himself With Fishing-Rod And A Few 
   Favorite Authors, He Buried himself In the Mountains Of Maine. 
     
     
     
   His Prison And Mission Classes Missed him Sadly. Mr. Growther Found That 
   He Could No Longer Live A Hermit'S Life, And Began In good Earnest To 
   Look For The "Little, Peaked-Faced chap" That Had Grown To Be More And 
   More Of A Reality To Him; But The Rest Of Hillaton Almost Forgot That 
   Haldane Had Ever Existed. 
     
     
     
   In The Autumn He Returned, Brown And Vigorous, And Entered upon His 
   Studies At The Medical School Connected with The University With Decided 
   Zest. To His Joy He Found A Letter From Mrs. Arnot, Informing Him That 
   The Health Of Her Niece Was Fully Restored, And That They Were About To 
   Return. And Yet It Was With Misgivings That He Remembered that Laura 
   Would Henceforth Be An Inmate Of Mrs. Arnot'S Home. As A Memory, However 
   Beautiful, She Was Too Shadowy To Disturb His Peace. Would This Be True 
   If She Had Fulfilled all The Rich Promises Of Her Girlhood, And He Saw 
   Her Often? 
     
     
     
   With A Foreboding Of Future Trouble He Both Dreaded and Longed to See 
   Once More The Maiden Who Had Once So Deeply Stirred his Heart, And Who 
   In The Depths Of His Disgrace Had Not Scorned him When Accidentally 
   Meeting Him In the Guise And At The Tasks Of A Common Laborer. 
     
     
     
   It Was With A Quickened pulse That He Read In the "Spy" One Monday 
   Evening, That Mrs. Arnot And Niece Had Arrived in town. It Was With A 
   Quicker Pulse That He Received a Note From Her A Few Days Later Asking 
   Him To Call That Evening, And Adding That Two Or Three Other Young Men 
   Whom He Knew To Be Her Especial Favorites Would Be Present. 
     
     
     
   Because Our Story Has Confined itself Chiefly To The Relations Existing 
   Between Haldane And Mrs. Arnot, It Must Not Be Forgotten That Her Active 
   Sympathies Were Enlisted in behalf Of Many Others, Some Of Whom Were 
   Almost Equally Attached to Her And She To Them. 
     
     
     
   After A Little Thought Haldane Concluded that He Would Much Prefer That 
   His First Interview With Laura Should Be In the Presence Of Others, For 
   He Could Then Keep In the Background Without Exciting Remark. 
     
     
     
   He Sincerely Hoped that When He Saw Her He Might Find That Her Old Power 
   Over Him Was A Broken Spell, And That The Lovely Face Which Had Haunted 
   Him All These Years, Growing More Beautiful With Time, Was But The 
   Creation Of His Own Fancy. He Was Sure She Would Still Be Pretty, But If 
   That Were All He Could Go On His Way Without A Regretful Thought. But If 
   The Shy Maiden, Whose Half-Entreating, Compassionate Tones Had 
   Interrupted the Harsh Rasping Of His Saw Years Ago, Were The Type Of The 
   Woman Whom He Should Meet That Evening, Might Not The Bitterest 
   Punishment Of His Folly Be Still Before Him? 
     
     
     
   He Waited till Sure That The Other Guests Had Arrived, And Then Entered 
   To Meet, As He Believed, Either A Hopeless Thraldom Or Complete 
   Disenchantment. 
     
     
     
   As He Crossed the Threshold Of The Parlor The Pleasure Of Seeing Mrs. 
   Arnot Again, And Of Receiving Her Cordial Greeting, Obliterated all 
   Other Thoughts From His Mind. 
     
     
     
   He Had, However, But A Moment'S Respite, For The Lady Said: 
     
     
     
   "Laura, My Friend Mr. Haldane." 
     
     
     
   He Turned and Saw, By Actual Vision, The Face That In fancy He Had So 
   Often Looked upon. It Was Not The Face That He Expected to See At All. 
   The Shy, Blue-Eyed maiden, Who Might Have Reminded one Of A Violet Half 
   Hidden Among The Grass, Had Indeed vanished, But An Ordinary Pretty 
   Woman Had Not Taken Her Place. 
     
     
     
   He Felt This Before He Had Time To Consciously Observe It, And Bowed 
   Rather Low To Hide His Burning Face; But She Frankly Held Out Her Hand 
   And Said, Though With Somewhat Heightened color Also: 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Haldane, I Am Glad To Meet You Again." 
     
     
     
   Then, Either To Give Him Time To Recover Himself, Or Else, Since The 
   Interruption Was Over, She Was Glad To Resume The Conversation That Had 
   Been Suspended, She Turned to Her Former Companions. Mrs. Arnot Also 
   Left Him To Himself A Few Moments, And By A Determined effort He Sought 
   To Calm The Tumultuous Riot Of His Blood. He Was Not Phlegmatic On Any 
   Occasion; But Even Mrs. Arnot Could Not Understand Why He Should Be So 
   Deeply Moved by This Meeting. She Ascribed it To The Painful And 
   Humiliating Memories Of The Past, And Then Dismissed his Manner From Her 
   Mind. He Speedily Gained self-Control, And, As Is Usual With Strong 
   Natures, Became Unusually Quiet And Undemonstrative. Only In the Depths 
   Of His Dark Eyes Could One Have Caught A Glimpse Of The Troubled spirit 
   Within, For It Was Troubled with A Growing Consciousness Of An Infinite 
   Loss. 
     
   
   
   
   Chapter XLVI (Misjudged) 
   The Young Men Who Were Mrs. Arnot'S Guests Were Naturally Attracted to 
   Laura'S Side, And She Speedily Proved that She Possessed the Rare Power 
   Of Entertaining Several Gentlemen At The Same Time, And With Such Grace 
   And Tact As To Make Each One Feel That His Presence Was Both Welcome And 
   Needed in the Circle. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Devoted herself To Haldane, And Showed how Genuine Was Her 
   Interest In him By Taking Up His Life Where His Last Letter Left It, And 
   Asking about All That Had Since Occurred. Indeed, With Almost A Mother'S 
   Sympathy, She Led him To Speak Of The Experiences Of The Entire Year. 
     
     
     
   "It Seems To Me," He Said, "That I Have Scarcely More Than Held My 
   Ground." 
     
     
     
   "To Hold One'S Ground, At Times Requires More Courage, More Heroic 
   Patience And Fortitude, Than Any Other Effort We Can Make. I Have Been 
   Told That Soldiers Can Charge Against Any Odds Better Than They Can 
   Simply And Coolly Stand Their Ground. But I Can See That You Have Been 
   Making Progress. You Have Graduated with Honor. You Are Surely Winning 
   Esteem And Confidence. You Have Kept Your Faith In god, And Maintained 
   Your Peculiar Usefulness To A Class That So Few Can Reach: Perhaps You 
   Are Doing More Good Than Any Of Us, By Proving That It Is A Fact And Not 
   A Theory That The Fallen Can Rise." 
     
     
     
   "You Are In the World, But Not Of It," He Said; And Then, As If Anxious 
   To Change The Subject, Asked. "Did You See My Mother?" 
     
     
     
   Although Mrs. Arnot Did Not Intend It, There Was A Slight Constraint In 
   Her Voice And Manner As She Replied: "Yes, I Took Especial Pains To See 
   Her Before I Returned, And Went Out Of My Way To Do So. I Wished to 
   Assure Her How Well You Were Doing, And How Certain You Were To Retrieve 
   The Past, All Of Which, Of Course, She Was Very Glad To Hear." 
     
     
     
   "Did She Send Me No Message?" He Asked, Instinctively Feeling That 
   Something Was Wrong. 
     
     
     
   "She Said That She Wrote To You Regularly, And So, Of Course, Felt That 
   There Was No Need of Sending any Verbal Messages." 
     
     
     
   "Was She Not Cordial To You?" Asked the Young Man, With A Dark Frown. 
     
     
     
   "She Was Very Polite, Egbert. I Think She Misunderstands Me A Little." 
     
     
     
   His Lace Flushed with Indignation, And After A Moment'S Thought He Said 
   Bitterly, And With Something Like Contempt, "Poor Mother! She Is To Be 
   Pitied." 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot'S Face Became Very Grave, And Almost Severe, And She Replied, 
   With An Emphasis Which He Never Forgot: 
     
     
     
   "She Is To Be Loved; She Is To Be Cherished with The Most Delicate 
   Consideration And Forbearance, And Honored--Yes, Honored--Because She Is 
   Your Mother. You, As Her Son, Should Never Say, Nor Permit Any One To 
   Say A Word Against Her. Nothing Can Absolve You From This Sacred duty. 
   Remember This As You Hope To Be A True Man." 
     
     
     
   This Was Mrs. Arnot'S Return For The Small Jealousy Of Her Girlhood'S 
   Friend. 
     
     
     
   He Bowed his Head, And After A Moment Replied: "Mrs. Arnot, I Feel, I 
   Know, You Are Right. I Thank You." 
     
     
     
   "Now You Are My Knight Again," She Said, Her Face Suddenly Lighting Up. 
   "But Come; Let Us Join The Others, For They Seem To Have Hit Upon A Very 
   Mirthful And Animated discussion." 
     
     
     
   Laura'S Eye And Sympathies Took Them In at Once As They Approached, And 
   Enveloped them In the Genial And Magnetic Influences Which She Seemed to 
   Have The Power Of Exerting. Although Naturally And Deeply Interested in 
   His Interview With Mrs. Arnot, Haldane'S Eyes And Thoughts Had Been 
   Drawn Frequently And Irresistibly To The Object Of His Old-Time Passion. 
   She Was, Indeed, Very Different From What He Had Expected. The Diffident 
   Maiden, So Slight In form And Shy In manner, Had Not Developed into A 
   Drooping Lily Of A Woman, Suggesting That She Must Always Have A Manly 
   Support Of Some Kind Near At Hand. Still Less Had She Become A Typical 
   Belle, And The Aggressive Society Girl Who Captures And Amuses Herself 
   With Her Male Admirers With The Grace And Sang Froid Of A Sportive 
   Kitten That Carefully Keeps A Hapless Mouse Within Reach Of Her Velvet 
   Paw. The Pale And Saint-Like Image Which He Had So Long Enshrined within 
   His Heart, And Which Had Been Created by Her Devotion To Her Mother, 
   Also Faded utterly Away In the Presence Of The Reality Before Him. She 
   Was A Veritable Flesh-And-Blood Woman, With The Hue Of Health Upon Her 
   Cheek, And The Charm Of Artistic Beauty In her Rounded form And Graceful 
   Manner. She Was A Revelation To Him, Transcending Not Only All That He 
   Had Seen, But All That He Had Imagined. 
     
     
     
   Thus Far He Had Not Attained a Moral And Intellectual Culture Which 
   Enabled him Even To Idealize So Beautiful And Perfect A Creature. She 
   Was Not A Saint In the Mystical Or Imaginative Sense Of The Word, But, 
   As A Queen Reigning By The Divine Right Of Her Surpassing Loveliness And 
   Grace In even Hillaton'S Exclusive Society, She Was Practically As Far 
   Removed from Him As If She Were An Ideal Saint Existing Only In a 
   Painter'S Haunted imagination. 
     
     
     
   Nature Had Dowered laura Romeyn Very Richly In the Graces Of Both Person 
   And Mind; But Many Others Are Equally Favored. Her Indescribable Charm 
   Arose From The Fact That She Was Very Receptive In her Disposition. She 
   Had Been Wax To Receive, But Marble To Retain. Therefore, Since She Had 
   Always Lived and Breathed in an Atmosphere Of Culture, Refinement, And 
   Christian Faith, Her Character Had The Exquisite Beauty And Fragrance 
   Which Belongs To A Rare Flower To Which All The Conditions Of Perfect 
   Development Have Been Supplied. Although The Light Of Her Eye Was 
   Serene, And Her Laugh As Clear And Natural As The Fall Of Water, There 
   Was A Nameless Something Which Indicated that Her Happy, Healthful 
   Nature Rested against A Dark Background Of Sorrow And Trial, And Was 
   Made The Richer And More Perfect Thereby. 
     
     
     
   Her Self-Forgetfulness Was Contagious. The Beautiful Girl Did Not Look 
   From One To Another Of The Admiring Circle For The Sake Of Picking Up A 
   Small Revenue Of Flattery. From A Native Generosity She Wished to Give 
   Pleasure To Her Guests; From A Holy Principle Instilled into Her Nature 
   So Long Ago That She Was No Longer Conscious Of It, She Wished to Do 
   Them Good By Suggesting Only Such Thoughts As Men Associate With Pure, 
   Good Women; And From An Earnest, Yet Sprightly Mind, She Took A Genuine 
   Interest Herself In the Subjects On Which They Were Conversing. 
     
     
     
   By Her Tact, And With Mrs. Arnot'S Efficient Aid, She Drew All Into The 
   Current Of Their Talk. The Three Other Young Men Who Were Mrs. Arnot'S 
   Guests That Evening Were Manly Fellows, And Had Come To Treat Haldane 
   With Cordial Respect. Thus For A Time He Was Made To Forget All That Had 
   Occurred to Cloud His Life. He Found That The Presence Of Laura Kindled 
   His Intellect With A Fire Of Which He Had Never Been Conscious Before. 
   His Eyes Flashed sympathy With Every Word She Said, And Before He Was 
   Aware He, Too, Was Speaking His Mind With Freedom, For He Saw No 
   Chilling Repugnance Toward Him In the Kindly Light Of Her Deep Blue 
   Eyes. She Led him To Forget Himself And His Past So Completely That He, 
   In The Excitement Of Argument, Inadvertently Pronounced his Own Doom. In 
   Answer To The Remark Of Another, He Said: 
     
     
     
   "Society Is Right In being Conservative And Exclusive, And Its Favor 
   Should Be The Highest Earthly Reward Of A Stainless Life. The Coarse And 
   The Vulgar Should Be Taught That They Cannot Purchase It Nor Elbow Their 
   Way Into It, And Those Who Have It Should Be Made To Feel That Losing It 
   Is Like Losing Life, For It Can Never Be Regained. Thus Society Not Only 
   Protects Itself, But Prevents Weak Souls From Dallying With Temptation." 
     
     
     
   So Well-Bred was Laura That, While Her Color Deepened at His Words, She 
   Betrayed no Other Consciousness That They Surprised her. But He Suddenly 
   Remembered all, And The Blood Rushed tumultuously To His Face, Then Left 
   It Very Pale. 
     
     
     
   "What I Have Said Is True, Nevertheless," He Added quietly And 
   Decisively, As If In answer To These Thoughts; "And Losing One'S Place 
   In Society May Be Worse Than Losing Life." 
     
     
     
   He Felt That This Was True, As He Looked at The Beautiful Girl Before 
   Him, So Kind And Gentle, And Yet So Unapproachable By Him; And, What Is 
   More, He Saw In her Face Pitying acquiescence To His Words. As Her 
   Aunt'S Protege, As A Young Man Trying To Reform, He Felt That He Would 
   Have Her Good Wishes And Courteous Treatment, But Never Anything More. 
     
     
     
   "Egbert, I Take Issue With You," Began Mrs. Arnot Warmly; But Further 
   Remark Was Interrupted by The Entrance Of A Gentleman, Who Was Announced 
   As 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Beaumont." 
     
     
     
   There Was A Nice Distinction Between The Greeting Given By Mrs. Arnot To 
   This Gentleman And That Which She Had Bestowed upon Haldane And Her 
   Other Guests. His Reception Was Simply The Perfection Of Quiet Courtesy, 
   And No One Could Have Been Sure That The Lady Was Glad To See Him. She 
   Merely Welcomed him As A Social Equal To Her Parlors, And Then Turned 
   Again To Her Friends. 
     
     
     
   But Laura Had A Kindlier Greeting For The New-Comer. While Her Manner 
   Was Equally Undemonstrative, Her Eyes Lighted up With Pleasure And The 
   Color Deepened in her Cheeks. It Was Evident That They Were Old 
   Acquaintances, And That He Had Found Previous Occasions For Making 
   Himself Very Agreeable. 
     
     
     
   Mr. Beaumont Did Not Care To Form One Of A Circle. He Was In the World'S 
   Estimation, Possibly In his Own, A Complete Circle In himself, Rounded 
   Out And Perfect On Every Side. He Was The Only Son In one Of The Oldest 
   And Most Aristocratic Families In the City; He Was The Heir Of Very 
   Large Wealth; His Careful Education Had Been Supplemented by Years Of 
   Foreign Travel; He Was Acknowledged to Be The Best Connoisseur Of Art In 
   Hillaton; And To His Irreproachable Manners Was Added an Irreproachable 
   Character. "He Is A Perfect Gentleman," Was The Verdict Of The Best 
   Society Wherever He Appeared. 
     
     
     
   Something To This Effect Haldane Learned from One Of The Young Men With 
   Whom He Had Been Spending The Evening, As They Bent Their Steps 
   Homeward--For Soon After Mr. Beaumont'S Arrival All Took Their 
   Departure. 
     
     
     
   That Gentleman Seemed to Bring In with Him A Different Atmosphere From 
   That Which Had Prevailed hitherto. Although His Bow Was Distant To 
   Haldane When Introduced, His Manner Had Been The Perfection Of 
   Politeness To The Others. For Some Reason, However, There Had Been A 
   Sudden Restraint And Chill. Possibly They Had But Unconsciously Obeyed 
   The Strong Will Of Mr. Beaumont, Who Wished their Departure. He Was 
   Almost As Resolute In having His Own Way As Mr. Arnot Himself. Not That 
   He Was Ever Rude To Any One In any Circumstances, But He Could Politely 
   Freeze Objectionable Persons Out Of A Room As Effectually As If He Took 
   Them By The Shoulders And Walked them Out. There Was So Much In his 
   Surroundings And Antecedents To Sustain His Quiet Assumption, That The 
   World Was Learning To Say, "By Your Leave," On All Occasions. 
     
     
     
   Haldane Was Not Long In reaching a Conclusion As He Sat Over A Dying 
   Fire In his Humble Quarters At The Hermitage. If He Saw Much Of Laura 
   Romeyn He Would Love Her Of Necessity By Every Law Of His Being. 
   Assuring Himself Of The Hopelessness Of His Affection Would Make No 
   Difference To One Of His Temperament. He Was Not One Who Could Coolly 
   Say To His Ardent And Impetuous Nature, "Thus Far, And No Farther." 
   There Was Something In her Every Tone, Word, And Movement Which Touched 
   Chords Within His Heart That Vibrated pleasurably Or Painfully. 
     
     
     
   This Power Cannot Be Explained. It Was Not Passion. Were Laura Far More 
   Beautiful, Something In her Manner Or Character Might Speedily Have 
   Broken The Spell By Which She Unconsciously Held Her Captive. His 
   Emotion In no Respect Resembled the Strong Yet Restful Affection That He 
   Entertained for Mrs. Arnot. Was It Love? Why Should He Love One Who 
   Would Not Love In return, And Who, Both In the World'S And His Own 
   Estimation, Was Infinitely Beyond His Reach? However Much His Reason 
   Might Condemn His Feelings, However Much He Might Regret The Fact, His 
   Heart Trembled at Her Presence, And, By Some Instinct Of Its Own, 
   Acknowledged its Mistress. He Was Compelled to Admit To Himself That He 
   Loved her Already, And That His Boyhood'S Passion Had Only Changed as He 
   Had Changed, And Had Become The Strong And Abiding Sentiment Of The Man. 
   She Only Could Have Broken The Power By Becoming Commonplace, By Losing 
   The Peculiar Charm Which She Had For Him From The First. But Now He 
   Could Not Choose; He Had Met His Fate. 
     
     
     
   One Thing, However, He Could Do, And That He Resolved upon Before He 
   Closed his Eyes In sleep In the Faint Dawning Of The Following Day. He 
   Would Not Flutter As A Poor Moth Where He Could Not Be Received as An 
   Accepted lover. 
     
     
     
   This Resolution He Kept. He Did Not Cease Calling Upon Mrs. Arnot, Nor 
   Did The Quiet Warmth Of His Manner Toward Her Change; But His Visits 
   Became Less Frequent, He Pleading The Engrossing Character Of His 
   Studies, And The Increasing Preparation Required to Maintain His Hold On 
   His Mission-Class; But The Lady'S Delicate Intuition Was Not Long In 
   Divining The True Cause. One Of His Unconscious Glances At Laura 
   Revealed his Heart To Her Woman'S Eye As Plainly As Could Any Spoken 
   Words. But By No Word Or Hint Did Mrs. Arnot Reveal To Him Her 
   Knowledge. Her Tones Might Have Been Gentler And Her Eyes Kinder; That 
   Was All. In her Heart, However, She Almost Revered the Man Who Had The 
   Strength And Patience To Take Up This Heavy And Hopeless Burden, And Go 
   On In the Path Of Duty Without A Word. How Different Was His Present 
   Course From His Former Passionate Clamor For What Was Then Equally 
   Beyond His Reach? She Was Almost Provoked at Her Niece That She Did Not 
   Appreciate Haldane More. But Would She Wish Her Peerless Ward To Marry 
   This Darkly Shadowed man, To Whom No Parlor In hillaton Was Open Save 
   Her Own? Even Mrs. Arnot Would Shrink From This Question. 
     
     
     
   Laura, Too, Had Perceived that Which Haldane Meant To Hide From All The 
   World. When Has A Beautiful Woman Failed to Recognize Her Worshippers? 
   But There Was Nothing In laura'S Nature Which Permitted her To Exult 
   Over Such A Discovery. She Could Not Resent As Presumption A Love That 
   Was So Unobtrusive, For It Became More And More Evident As Time Passed 
   That The Man Who Was Mastered by It Would Never Voluntarily Give To Her 
   The Slightest Hint Of Its Existence. She Was Pleased that He Was So 
   Sensible As To Recognize The Impassable Gulf Between Them, And That He 
   Did Not Go Moaning along The Brink, Thus Making a Spectacle Of Himself, 
   And Becoming an Annoyance To Her. Indeed, She Sincerely Respected him 
   For His Reticence And Self-Control, But She Also Misjudged him; For He 
   Was So Patient And Strong, And Went Forward With His Duties So Quietly 
   And Steadily, That She Was Inclined to Believe That His Feelings Toward 
   Her Were Not Very Deep, Or Else That He Was So Constituted that Affairs 
   Of The Heart Did Not Give Him Very Much Trouble. 
     
   
   
   
   Chapter XLVII (Laura Chooses Her Knight) 
     
     
   Why Laura, How Your Cheeks Burn!" Exclaimed mrs. Arnot As She Entered 
   Her Niece'S Room One Afternoon. 
     
     
     
   "Now, Don'T Laugh At Me For Being So Foolish, But I Have Become Absurdly 
   Excited over This Story. Scott Was Well Called the 'Wizard Of The 
   North.' What A Spell He Weaves Over His Pages! When Reading Some Of His 
   Descriptions Of Men And Manners In those Old Chivalric Times, I Feel 
   That I Have Been Born Some Centuries Too Late--In Our Time Everything Is 
   So Matter-Of-Fact, And The Men Are So Prosaic. The World Moves On With A 
   Steady Business Jog, Or, To Change The Figure, With The Monotonous Clank 
   Of Uncle'S Machinery. My Castle In the Air Would Be The Counterpart Of 
   Those Which Scott Describes." 
     
     
     
   "Romantic As Ever," Laughed her Aunt; "And That Reminds Me, By The Way, 
   Of The Saying That Romantic Girls Always Marry Matter-Of-Fact Men, 
   Which, I Suppose, Will Be Your Fate. I Confess I Much Prefer Our Own 
   Age. Your Stony Castles Make Me Shiver With A Sense Of Discomfort; And 
   As For The Men, I Imagine They Are Much The Same Now As Then, For Human 
   Nature Does Not Change Much." 
     
     
     
   "O, Auntie, What A Prosaic Speech! Uncle Might Have Made It Himself. The 
   Idea Of Men Being Much The Same Now! Why, In that Day There Were The 
   Widest And Most Picturesque Differences Between Men Of The Same Rank. 
   There Were Horrible Villains, And Then To Vanquish These And Undo The 
   Mischief They Were Ever Causing, There Were Knights _Sans Peur Et Sans 
   Reproche._ But Now A Gentleman Is A Gentleman, And All Made Up Very 
   Much In the Same Style, Like Their Dress Coats. I Would Like To Have 
   Seen At Least One Genuine Knight--A Man Good Enough And Brave Enough To 
   Do And To Dare Anything To Which He Could Be Impelled by A Most 
   Chivalric Sense Of Duty. About The Most Heroic Thing a Man Ever Did For 
   Me Was To Pick Up My Fan." 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Thought Of One Man Whose Heart Was Almost Breaking For Her, 
   And Yet Who Maintained such A Quiet, Masterful Self-Control That The 
   Object Of His Passion, Which Had Become Like A Torturing Flame, Was Not 
   Subjected to Even The Slightest Annoyance; And She Said, "You Are 
   Satirical Today. In my Opinion There Are As True Knights Now As Your 
   Favorite Author Ever Described." 
     
     
     
   "Not In hillaton," Laughed laura, "Or Else Their Disguise Is Perfect." 
     
     
     
   "Yes, In hillaton," Replied mrs. Arnot, With Some Warmth, "And Among The 
   Visitors At This House. I Know Of One Who Bids Fair To Fulfil My Highest 
   Ideal Of Knighthood, And I Think You Will Do Me The Justice To Believe 
   That My Standard Is Not A Low One." 
     
     
     
   "Auntie, You Fairly Takeaway My Breath!" Said Laura, In the Same 
   Half-Jesting Spirit." Where Have My Eyes Been? Pray, Who Is This 
   Paragon, Who Must, Indeed, Be Nearly Perfect, To Satisfy Your Standard?" 
     
     
     
   "You Must Discover Him For Yourself; As You Say, He Appears To Be But A 
   Gentleman, And Would Be The Last One In the World To Think Of Himself As 
   A Knight, Or To Fill Your Ideal Of One. You Must Remember The Character 
   Of Our Age. If One Of Your Favorite Knights Should Step, Armed 
   _Cap-A-Pie,_ Out Of Scott'S Pages, All The Dogs In town Would Be At 
   His Heels, And He Would Probably Bring Up At The Station-House. My 
   Knight Promises To Become The Flower Of His Own Age. Now I Think Of It, 
   I Do Not Like The Conventional Word 'Flower,' As Used in this 
   Connection, For My Knight Is Steadily Growing Strong Like A Young Oak. I 
   Hope I May Live To See The Man He Will Eventually Become." 
     
     
     
   "You Know Well, Auntie," Said Laura, "That I Have Not Meant Half I Have 
   Said. The Men Of Our Day Are Certainly Equal To The Women, And I Shall 
   Not Have To Look Far To Find My Superior In all Respects. I Must Admit, 
   However, That Your Words Have Piqued my Curiosity, And I Am Rather Glad 
   You Have Not Named this 'Heart Of Oak,' For The Effort To Discover Him 
   Will Form A Pleasant Little Excitement." 
     
     
     
   "Were I That Way Inclined," Said Mrs. Arnot, Smiling, "I Would Be 
   Willing To Wager A Good Deal That You Will Hit Upon The Wrong Man." 
     
     
     
   Laura Became For A Time Quite A Close Student Of Human Nature, Observing 
   Narrowly The Physiognomy And Weighing The Words And Manner, Of Her Many 
   Gentleman Acquaintances; But While She Found Much To Respect, And Even 
   To Admire, In some, She Was Not Sure That Any One Of Them Answered to 
   Her Aunt'S Description. Nor Could She Obtain Any Further Light By 
   Inquiring Somewhat Into Their Antecedents. As For Mrs. Arnot, She Was 
   Considerably Amused, But Continued perfectly Non-Committal. 
     
     
     
   After Laura Had Quite Looked through Her Acquaintances Haldane Made One 
   Of His Infrequent Calls, But As Mr. Beaumont Was Also Present She Gave 
   To Her Quondam Lover Scarcely More Than A Kindly Word Of Greeting, And 
   Then Forgot His Existence. It Did Not Occur To Her, Any More Than It 
   Would To Haldane Himself, That He Was The Knight. 
     
     
     
   Mr. Arnot, Partly Out Of A Grim Humor Peculiarly His Own, And Partly To 
   Extenuate His Severity Toward The Youth, Had Sent To His Niece All The 
   City Papers Containing Unfavorable References To Haldane, And To Her 
   Mind The Associations Created by Those Disgraceful Scenes Were Still 
   Inseparable From Him. She Honestly Respected him For His Resolute Effort 
   To Reform, As She Would Express It, And As A Sincere Christian Girl She 
   Wished him The Very Best Of Success, But This Seemed as Far As Her 
   Regard For Him Could Ever Go. She Treated him Kindly Where Most Others 
   In Her Station Would Not Recognize Him At All, But Such Was The Delicacy 
   And Refinement Of Her Nature That She Shrank From One Who Had Been 
   Capable Of Acts Like His. The Youth Who Had Annoyed her With His 
   Passion, Whom She Had Seen Fall Upon The Floor In gross Intoxication, 
   Who Had Been Dragged through The Streets As A Criminal, And Who Twice 
   Had Been In jail, Was Still A Vivid Memory. She Knew Comparatively 
   Little About, And Did Not Understand, The Man Of To-Day. Beyond The 
   General Facts That He Was Doing Well And Doing Good, It Was Evident 
   That, By Reason Of Old And Disagreeable Associations, She Did Not Wish 
   To Hear Much About Him, And Mrs. Arnot Had The Wisdom To See That Time 
   And The Young Man'S Own Actions Would Do More To Remove Prejudice From 
   The Mind Of Her Niece, As Well As From The Memory Of Society In general, 
   Than Could Any Words Of Hers. 
     
     
     
   Of Course, Such A Girl As Laura Had Many Admirers, And Among Them Mr. 
   Beaumont Was Evidently Winning The First Place In her Esteem. Whether He 
   Were The Knight That Her Aunt Had In mind Or No, She Was Not Sure, But 
   He Realized her Ideal More Completely Than Any Man Whom She Had Ever 
   Met. He Did, Indeed, Seem The "Perfect Flower Of His Age," Although She 
   Was Not So Sure Of The Oak-Like Qualities. She Often Asked herself 
   Wherein She Could Find Fault With Him Or With All That Related to Him, 
   And Even Her Delicate Discrimination Could Scarcely Find A Vulnerable 
   Point. He Was Fine-Looking, His Heavy Side-Whiskers Redeeming His Face 
   From Effeminacy; He Was Tall And Elegant In his Proportions; His Taste 
   In His Dress Was Quiet And Faultless; He Possessed the Most Refined and 
   Highly Cultured mind Of Any Man Whom She Had Known; His Family Was 
   Exceedingly Proud And Aristocratic, But As Far As There Can Be Reason 
   For These Characteristics, This Old And Wealthy Family Had Such Reason. 
   Laura Certainly Could Not Find Fault With These Traits, For From The 
   First Mr. Beaumont'S Parents Had Sought To Pay Her Especial Attention. 
   It Was Quite Evident That They Thought That The Orphaned girl Who Was So 
   Richly Dowered with Wealth And Beauty Might Make As Good A Wife For 
   Their Matchless Son As Could Be Found, And Such An Opinion On Their Part 
   Was, Indeed, A High Compliment To Laura'S Birth And Breeding. No One 
   Else In hillaton Would Have Been Thought Of With Any Equanimity. 
     
     
     
   The Son Was Inclined to Take The Same View As That Entertained by His 
   Parents, But, As The Party Most Nearly Interested, He Felt It Incumbent 
   Upon Him To Scrutinize Very Closely And Deliberately The Woman Who Might 
   Become His Wife, And Surely This Was A Sensible Thing To Do. 
     
     
     
   There Was Nothing Mercenary Or Coarse In his Delicate Analysis And Close 
   Observation. Far From It. Mr. Beaumont Was The Last Man In the World To 
   Look A Lady Over As He Would A Bale Of Merchandise. More Than All Things 
   Else, Mr. Beaumont Was A _Connoisseur_, And He Sought Mrs. Arnot'S 
   Parlors With Increasing Frequency Because He Believed that He Would 
   There Find The Woman Best Fitted to Become The Chief Ornament Of The 
   Stately Family Mansion. 
     
     
     
   Laura Had Soon Become Conscious Of This Close Tentative Scrutiny, And At 
   First She Had Been Inclined to Resent Its Cool Deliberateness. But, 
   Remembering That A Man Certainly Has A Right To Learn Well The Character 
   Of The Woman Whom He May Ask To Be His Wife, She Felt That There Was 
   Nothing In his Action Of Which She Could Complain; And It Soon Became A 
   Matter Of Pride With Her, As Much As Anything Else, To Satisfy Those 
   Fastidious Eyes That Hitherto Had Critically Looked the World Over, And 
   In Vain, For A Pearl With A Lustre Sufficiently Clear. She Began To 
   Study His Taste, To Dress For Him, To Sing For Him, To Read His Favorite 
   Authors; And So Perfect Was His Taste That She Found Herself Aided and 
   Enriched by It. He Was Her Superior In these Matters, For He Had Made 
   Them His Life-Study. The First Hour That She Spent With Him In a 
   Picture-Gallery Was Long Remembered, For Never Before Had Those Fine And 
   Artistic Marks Which Make A Painting Great Been So Clearly Pointed out 
   To Her. She Was Brought To Believe That This Man Could Lead Her To The 
   Highest Point Of Culture To Which She Could Attain, And Satisfy Every 
   Refined taste That She Possessed. It Seemed as If He Could Make Life One 
   Long Gallery Of Beautiful Objects, Through Which She Might Stroll In 
   Elegant Leisure, Ever Conscious That Lie Who Stood By To Minister And 
   Explain Was Looking away From All Things Else In admiration Of Herself. 
     
     
     
   The Prospect Was Too Alluring. Laura Was Not An Advanced female, With A 
   Mission; She Was Simply A Young And Lovely Woman, Capable Of The Noblest 
   Action And Feeling Should The Occasion Demand Them, But Naturally 
   Luxurious And Beauty-Loving In her Tastes, And Inclined to Shun The 
   Prosaic Side Of Life. 
     
     
     
   She Made Beaumont Feel That She Also Was Critical And Exacting. She Had 
   Lived too Long Under Mrs. Arnot'S Influence To Be Satisfied with A Man 
   Who Merely Lived for The Pleasure He Could Get Out Of Each Successive 
   Day. He Saw That She Demanded that He Should Have A Purpose And Aim In 
   Life, And He Skilfully Met This Requirement By Frequently Descanting On 
   Aesthetic Culture As The Great Lever Which Could Move The World, And By 
   Suggesting That The Great Question Of His Future Was How He Could Best 
   Bring This Culture To The People. As A Christian, She Took Issue With 
   Him As To Its Being The Great Lever, But Was Enthusiastic Over It As A 
   Most Powerful Means Of Elevating The Masses, And She Often Found Herself 
   Dreaming Over How Much A Man Gifted with Mr. Beaumont'S Exquisite Taste 
   And Large Wealth Could Do By Placing Within The Reach Of The Multitude 
   Objects Of Elevating art And Beauty. 
     
     
     
   By A Fine Instinct She Felt, Rather Than Saw, That Mrs. Arnot Did Not 
   Specially Like The Seemingly Faultless Man, And Was Led to Believe That 
   Her Aunt'S Ideal Knight Was To Be Found Among Some Of The Heartier Young 
   Men Who Were Bent On Doing Good In the Old-Fashioned ways; And, With A 
   Tendency Not Unnatural In one So Young And Romantic, She Thought Of Her 
   Aunt As Being a Bit Old-Fashioned and Prosaic Herself. In her Youthful 
   And Ardent Imagination Beaumont Came To Fill More And More Definitely 
   Her Ideal Of The Modern Knight--A Man Who Summed up Within Himself The 
   Perfect Culture Of His Age, And Who Was Proposing To Diffuse That 
   Culture As Widely As Possible. 
     
     
     
   "You Do Not Admire Mr. Beaumont," Said Laura A Little Abruptly To Her 
   Aunt One Day. 
     
     
     
   "You Are Mistaken, Laura; I Do Admire Him Very Much." 
     
     
     
   "Well, You Do Not Like Him, Then, To Speak More Correctly; He Takes No 
   Hold Upon Your Sympathies." 
     
     
     
   "There Is Some Truth In your Last Remark, I Must Admit. For Some Reason 
   He Does Not. Perhaps It Is My Fault, And I Have Sometimes Asked myself, 
   Is Mr. Beaumont Capable Of Strong Affection Or Self-Sacrificing action? 
   Has He Much Heart?" 
     
     
     
   "I Think You Do Him Injustice In these Respects," Said Laura Warmly. 
     
     
     
   "Quite Probably," Replied mrs. Arnot, Adding With A Mischievous Smile, 
   Which Brought The Rich Color To Her Niece'S Cheeks, "Perhaps You Are In 
   A Better Position To Judge Of His Possession Of These Qualities Than I 
   Am. Thus Far He Has Given Me Only The Opportunity Of Echoing Society'S 
   Verdict--He Is A Perfect Gentleman. I Wish He Were A Better Christian," 
   She Concluded gravely. 
     
     
     
   "I Think He Is A Christian, Auntie." 
     
     
     
   "Yes, Dear, In a Certain Aesthetic Sense. But Far Be It From Me To Judge 
   Him. Like The Rest Of The World, I Respect Him As An Honorable 
   Gentleman." 
     
     
     
   A Few Days After This Conversation Mr. Beaumont Drove A Pair Of 
   Coal-Black Horses To Mrs. Arnot'S Door, And Invited laura To Take A 
   Drive. When, In the Twilight, She Returned, She Went Straight To Her 
   Aunt'S Private Parlor, And, Curling Down At Her Knees, As Was Her Custom 
   When A Child, Said: 
     
     
     
   "Give Me Your Blessing, Auntie; Your Congratulations, Also--I Hope, 
   Although I Am Not So Sure Of These. I Have Found My Knight, Though 
   Probably Not Yours. See!" And She Held Up Her Finger, With A Great 
   Flashing Diamond Upon It. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Took The Girl In her Arms And Said, "I Do Bless You, My 
   Child, And I Think I Can Congratulate You Also. On Every Principle Of 
   Worldly Prudence And Worldly Foresight I Am Sure I Can. It Will Be Very 
   Hard Ever To Give You Up To Another; And Yet I Am Growing Old, And I Am 
   Glad That You, Who Are Such A Sacred charge To Me, Have Chosen One Who 
   Stands So High In the Estimation Of All, And Who Is So Abundantly Able 
   To Gratify Your Tastes." 
     
     
     
   "Yes, Auntie, I Think I Am Fortunate," Said Laura, With Complacent 
   Emphasis. "I Have Found A Man Not Only Able To Gratify All My 
   Tastes--And You Know That Many Of Them Are Rather Expensive--But He 
   Himself Satisfies My Most Critical Taste, And Even Fills Out The Ideal 
   Of My Fancy." 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Gave A Sudden Sigh. 
     
     
     
   "Now, Auntie, What, In the Name Of Wonder, Can That Foreboding Sigh 
   Mean?" 
     
     
     
   "You Have Not Said That He Satisfied your Heart." 
     
     
     
   "O, I Think He Does Fully," Said Laura, Hastily, Though With A Faint 
   Misgiving." These Tender Feelings Will Come In their Own Good Time. We 
   Have Not Got Far Enough Along For Them Yet. Besides, I Never Could Have 
   Endured a Passionate Lover. I Was Cured of Any Such Tastes Long Ago, You 
   Remember," She Added, With A Faint Laugh. 
     
     
     
   "Poor Egbert!" Ejaculated mrs. Arnot, With Such Sad Emphasis That Laura 
   Looked up Into Her Face Inquiringly As She Asked: 
     
     
     
   "You Don'T Think He Will Care Much, Do You?" 
     
     
     
   "Yes, Laura; You Know He Will Care, Perhaps More Deeply Than I Do; But I 
   Believe That He Will Wish You Happiness As Truly And Honestly As 
   Myself." 
     
     
     
   "O, Auntie! How Can It Be That He Will Care As Much As Yourself?" 
     
     
     
   "Is It Possible, Laura, That You Have Failed to Detect His Regard For 
   You In all These Months? I Detected it At A Glance, And Felt Sure That 
   You Had Also." 
     
     
     
   "So I Did, Auntie, Long Since, But I Supposed it Was, As You Say, A Mere 
   Regard That Did Not Trouble Him Much. I Should Be Sorry To Think That It 
   Was Otherwise." 
     
     
     
   "At All Events, It Has Not Troubled you Much, Whatever It May Have Cost 
   Him. You Hardly Do Haldane Justice. Your Allusion To His Former Passion 
   Should Remind You That He Still Possesses The Same Ardent And Impetuous 
   Nature, Out It Is Under Control. You Cannot Return His Deep, Yet 
   Unobtrusive, Love, And, As The World Is Constituted, It Is Probably Well 
   For You That This Is True; But I Cannot Bear That It Should Have No 
   Better Reward Than Your Last Rather Contemptuous Allusion." 
     
     
     
   "Forgive Me, Auntie; I Did Not Imagine That He Felt As You Seem To 
   Think. Indeed, In my Happiness And Preoccupation, I Have Scarcely 
   Thought Of Him At All. His Love Has, In truth, Been Unobtrusive. So 
   Scrupulously Has He Kept It From My Notice That I Had Thought And Hoped 
   That It Had But Little Place In his Mind. But If You Are Right, I Am 
   Very, Very Sorry. Why Is The Waste Of These Precious Heart-Treasures 
   Permitted?" And Gathering Tears Attested her Sincerity. 
     
     
     
   "That Is An Old, Old Question, Which The World Has Never Answered. The 
   Scientists Tell Us That By A Law Of Nature No Force Is Ever Lost. If 
   This Be True In the Physical World, It Certainly Should Be In the 
   Spiritual. I Also Believe That An Honest, Unselfish Love Can Enrich The 
   Heart That Gives It, Even Though It Receives No Other Reward. But You 
   Have No Occasion To Blame Yourself, Laura. It Is One Of Those Things 
   Which Never Could Have Been Helped. Besides, Haldane Is Serving a Master 
   Who Is Pledged to Shape Seeming Evils For His Good. I Had No Thought Of 
   Speaking Of Him At All, Only Your Remark Seemed so Like Injustice That I 
   Could Not Be Silent. In the Future, Moreover, You May Do Something For 
   Him. Society Is Too Unrelenting, And Does Not Sufficiently Recognize The 
   Struggle He Has Made, And Is Yet Making; And He Is So Morbidly Sensitive 
   That He Will Not Take Anything That Even Looks Like Social Alms. You 
   Will Be In a Position To Help Him Toward The Recognition Which He 
   Deserves, For I Should Be Sorry To See Him Become A Lonely And Isolated 
   Man. Of Course, You Will Have To Do This Very Carefully, But Your Own 
   Graceful Tact Will Best Guide You In this Matter. I Only Wish You To 
   Appreciate The Brave Fight He Is Making and The Character He Is Forming, 
   And Not To Think Of Him Merely As A Commonplace, Well-Meaning Man, Who 
   Is At Last Trying To Do Right, And Who Will Be Fairly Content With Life 
   If He Can Secure His Bread And Butter." 
     
     
     
   "I Will Remember What You Say, And Do My Very Best," Said Laura 
   Earnestly, "For I Do Sincerely Respect Mr. Haldane For His Efforts To 
   Retrieve The Past, And I Should Despise Myself Did I Not Appreciate The 
   Delicate Consideration He Has Shown For Me If He Has Such Feelings As 
   You Suppose. Auntie!" She Exclaimed after A Moment, A Sudden Light 
   Breaking In upon Her, "Mr. Haldane Is Your Knight." 
     
     
     
   "And A Very Plain, Prosaic Knight, No Doubt, He Seems To You." 
     
     
     
   "I Confess That He Does, And Yet When I Think Of It I Admit That He Has 
   Fought His Way Up Against Tremendous Odds. Indeed, His Present Position 
   In Contrast With What He Was Involves So Much Hard Fighting That I Can 
   Only Think Of Him As One Of Those Plain, Rugged men Who Have Risen From 
   The Ranks." 
     
     
     
   "Look For The Plain And Rugged characteristics When He Next Calls," Said 
   Mrs. Arnot Quietly. "One Would Have Supposed that Such A Rugged nature 
   Would Have Interposed some Of His Angles In your Way." 
     
     
     
   "Forgive Me, Auntie; I Am Inclined to Think That I Know Very Little 
   About Your Knight; But It Is Natural That I Should Much Prefer My Own. 
   Your Knight Is Like One Of Those Remorseful Men Of The Olden Time Who, 
   Partly From Faith And Partly In penance For Past Misdeeds, Dons A Suit 
   Of Plain Heavy Iron Armor, And Goes Away To Parts Unknown To Fight The 
   Infidel. My Knight Is Clad In shining Steel; Nor Is The Steel Less True 
   Because Overlaid With A Filagree Of Gold; And He Will Make The World 
   Better Not By Striking Rude And Ponderous Blows, But By Teaching It 
   Something Of His Own Fair Courtesy And His Own Rich Culture." 
     
     
     
   "Your Description Of Haldane Is Very Fanciful And A Little Far-Fetched," 
   Said Mrs. Arnot, Laughing; "Should I Reply In like Vein I Would Only Add 
   That I Believe That He Will Henceforth Keep The 'White Cross' On His 
   Knightly Mantle Unstained. Already He Seems To Have Won A Place In that 
   Ancient And Honorable Order Established so Many Centuries Ago, The 
   Members Of Which Were Entitled to Inscribe Upon Their Shields The 
   Legend, 'He That Ruleth His Own Spirit Is Better Than He That Taketh A 
   City.' But We Are Carrying This Fanciful Imagery Too Far, And Had Better 
   Drop It Altogether. I Know That You Will Do For Haldane All That Womanly 
   Delicacy Permits, And That Is All I Wish. Mr. Beaumont'S Course Toward 
   You Commands My Entire Respect. He Long Since Asked both Your Uncle'S 
   Consent And Mine To Pay You His Addresses, And While We, Of Course, Gave 
   Our Approval, We Have Left You Wholly Free To Follow The Promptings Of 
   Your Own Heart. In the World'S Estimation, Laura, It Will Be A Brilliant 
   Alliance For Each Party; But My Prayer Shall Be That It May Be A Happy 
   And Sympathetic Union, And That You May Find An Unfailing and Increasing 
   Content In each Other'S Society. Nothing Can Compensate For The Absence 
   Of A Warm, Kind Heart, And The Nature That Is Without It Is Like A Home 
   Without A Hearth-Stone And A Fire; The Larger And More Stately It Is, 
   The Colder And More Cheerless It Seems." 
     
     
     
   Laura Understood Her Aunt'S Allusion To Her Own Bitter Disappointment, 
   And She Almost Shivered at The Possibility Of Meeting a Like Experience. 
     
   
   
   
   Chapter XLVIII (Mrs. Arnot'S Knight) 
   It Will Not Be Supposed that Haldane Was Either Blind Or Indifferent 
   During The Long Months In which Beaumont, Like A Skilful Engineer, Was 
   Making His Regular Approaches To The Fair Lady Whom He Would Win. He 
   Early Foresaw What Appeared to Him Would Be The Inevitable Result, And 
   Yet, In spite Of All His Fortitude, And The Frequency With Which He 
   Assured himself That It Was Natural, That It Was Best, That It Was 
   Right, That This Peerless Woman Should Wed a Man Of Beaumont'S Position 
   And Culture, Still That Gentleman'S Assured deliberate Advance Was Like 
   The Slow And Torturing Contraction Of The Walls Of That Terrible Chamber 
   In The Inquisition Which, By An Imperceptible Movement, Closed in upon 
   And Crushed the Prisoner. For A Time He Felt That He Could Not Endure 
   The Pain, And He Grew Haggard Under It. 
     
     
     
   "What'S The Matter, My Boy?" Said Mr. Growther Abruptly To Him One 
   Evening. "You Look As If Something Was A-Gnawin' And A-Eatin' Your Very 
   Heart Out." 
     
     
     
   He Satisfied his Old Friend By Saying That He Did Not Feel Well, And 
   Surely One Sick At Heart As He Was Might Justly Say This. 
     
     
     
   Mr. Growther Immediately Suggested as Remedies All The Drugs He Had Ever 
   Heard Of, And Even Volunteered to Go After Them; But Haldane Said With A 
   Smile, 
     
     
     
   "I Would Not Survive If I Took A Tenth Part Of The Medicines You Have 
   Named, And Not One Of Them Would Do Me Any Good. I Think I'Ll Take A 
   Walk Instead." 
     
     
     
   Mr. Growther Thought A Few Moments, And Muttered to Himself, "What A 
   Cussed old Fool I'Ve Been To Think That Rhubob And Jallup Could Touch 
   His Case! He'S Got Something On His Mind," And With A Commendable 
   Delicacy He Forbore To Question And Pry. 
     
     
     
   Gradually, However, Haldane Obtained patience And Then Strength To Meet 
   What Seemed inevitable, And To Go Forward With The Strong, Measured 
   Tread Of A Resolute Soldier. 
     
     
     
   While Passing Through His Lonely And Bitter Conflict He Learned the 
   Value And Significance Of That Ancient Prophecy, "He Is Despised and 
   Rejected of Men; A Man Of Sorrows And Acquainted with Grief; And We Hid, 
   As It Were, Our Faces From Him." How Long, Long Ago God Planned and 
   Purposed to Win The Sympathy And Confidence Of The Suffering By Coming 
   So Close To Them In like Experience That They Could Feel Sure--Yes, 
   Know--That He Felt With Them And For Them. 
     
     
     
   Never Before Had The Young Man So Fully Realized how Vital A Privilege 
   It Was To Be A Disciple Of Christ--To Be Near To Him--And Enjoy What 
   Resembled a Companionship Akin To That Possessed by Those Who Followed 
   Him Up And Down The Rugged paths Of Judea And Galilee. 
     
     
     
   When, At Last, Laura'S Engagement Became A Recognized fact, He Received 
   The Intelligence As Quietly As The Soldier Who Is Ordered to Take And 
   Hold A Position That Will Long Try His Fortitude And Courage To The 
   Utmost. 
     
     
     
   As For Laura, The Weeks That Followed her Engagement Were Like A 
   Beautiful Dream, But One That Was Created largely By The Springing Hopes 
   And Buoyancy Of Youth, And The Witchery Of Her Own Vivid Imagination. 
   The Springtime Had Come Again, And The Beauty And Promise Of Her Own 
   Future Seemed reflected in nature. Every Day She Took Long Drives Into 
   The Country With Her Lover, Or Made Expeditions To Picture Galleries In 
   New York; Again, They Would Visit Public Parks Or Beautiful Private 
   Grounds In which The Landscape Gardener Had Lavished his Art. She Lived 
   And Fairly Revelled in a World Of Beauty, And For The Time It 
   Intoxicated her With Delight. 
     
     
     
   There Was Also Such A Chorus Of Congratulation That She Could Not Help 
   Feeling Complacent. Society Indorsed her Choice So Emphatically And 
   Universally That She Was Sure She Had Made No Mistake. She Was Caused to 
   Feel That She Had Carried off The Richest Prize Ever Known In hillaton, 
   And She Was Sufficiently Human To Be Elated over The Fact. 
     
     
     
   Nor Was The Congratulation All On One Side. Society Was Quite As 
   Positive That Beaumont Had Been Equally Fortunate, And There Were Some 
   That Insisted that He Had Gained the Richer Prize. It Was Known That 
   Laura Had Considerable Property In her Own Name, And It Was The General 
   Belief That She Would Eventually Become Heiress Of A Large Part Of The 
   Colossal Fortune Supposed to Be In the Possession Of Mr. And Mrs. Arnot. 
   In Respect To Character, Beauty, Accomplishments-In Brief, The Minor 
   Considerations In the World'S Estimation-It Was Admitted by All That 
   Laura Had Few Superiors. Mr. Beaumont'S Parents Were Lavish In the 
   Manifestations Of Their Pleasure And Approval. And Thus It Would Seem 
   That These Two Lives Were Fitly Joined by The Affinity Of Kindred 
   Tastes, By The Congenial Habits Of Equal Rank, And By Universal 
   Acclamation. 
     
     
     
   Gradually, However, The Glamour Thrown Around Her New Relationship By 
   Its Very Novelty, By Unnumbered congratulations, And The Excitement 
   Attendant On So Momentous A Step In a Young Lady'S Life, Began To Pass 
   Away. Every Fine Drive In the Country Surrounding The City Had Been 
   Taken Again And Again; All The Fine Galleries Had Been Visited, And The 
   Finer Pictures Admired and Dwelt Upon In mr. Beaumont'S Refined and 
   Quiet Tones, Until There Was Little More To Be Said. Laura Had Come To 
   Know Exactly Why Her Favorite Paintings Were Beautiful, And Precisely 
   The Marks Which Gave Them Value. The Pictures Remained just As 
   Beautiful, But She Became Rather Tired of Hearing Mr. Beaumont Analyze 
   Them. Not That She Could Find Any Fault With What He Said, But It Was 
   The Same Thing Over And Over Again. She Became, Slowly And Unpleasantly, 
   Impressed with The Thought That, While Mr. Beaumont Would Probably Take 
   The Most Correct View Of Every Object That Met His Eye, He Would Always 
   Take The Same View, And, Having Once Heard Him Give An Opinion, She 
   Could Anticipate On All Future Occasions Just What He Would Say. We All 
   Know, By Disagreeable Experience, That No Man Is So Wearisome As He Who 
   Repeats Himself Over And Over Again Without Variation, No Matter How 
   Approved his First Utterance May Have Been. Beaumont Was Remarkably 
   Gifted with The Power Of Forming a Correct Judgment Of The Technical 
   Work Of Others In all Departments Of Art And Literature, And To The 
   Perfecting Of This Accurate Aesthetic Taste He Had Given The Energies Of 
   His Maturer Years. He Had Carefully Scrutinized in every Land All That 
   The Best Judges Considered pre-Eminently Great And Beautiful, But His 
   Critical Powers Were Those Of An Expert, A Connoisseur, Only. His Mind 
   Had No Freshness Or Originality. He Had Very Little Imagination. Laura'S 
   Spirit Would Kindle Before A Beautiful Painting Until Her Eyes Suffused 
   With Tears. He Would Observe Coolly, With An Eye That Measured and 
   Compared everything With The Received canons Of Art, And If The Drawing 
   And Coloring Were Correct He Was Simply--Satisfied. 
     
     
     
   Again, He Had A Habit Of Forgetting That He Had Given His Artistic Views 
   Upon A Subject But A Brief Time Before, And Would Repeat Them Almost 
   Word For Word, And Often His Polished sentences And Quiet Monotone Were 
   As Wearisome As A Thrice-Told Tale. 
     
     
     
   As Time Wore On The Disagreeable Thought Began To Suggest Itself To 
   Laura That The Man Himself Had Culminated; That He Was Perfected to The 
   Limit Of His Nature, And Finished off. She Foresaw With Dread That She 
   Might Reach A Point Before Very Long When She Would Know All That He 
   Knew, Or, At Least, All That He Kept In his Mind, And That Thereafter 
   Everything Would Be Endless Repetition To The End Of Life. He Dressed 
   Very Much The Same Every Day; His Habits Were Very Uniform And 
   Methodical. In the World'S Estimation He Was, Indeed, A Bright Luminary, 
   And He Certainly Resembled the Heavenly Bodies In the Following 
   Respects. Laura Was Learning That She Could Calculate His Orbit To A 
   Nicety, And Know Beforehand What He Would Do And Say In given 
   Conditions. When She Came To Know Him Better She Might Be Able To Trace 
   The Unwelcome Resemblance Still Further, In the Fact That He Did Not 
   Seem To Be Progressing Toward Anything, But Was Going Round And Round A 
   Habitual Circle Of Thought And Action, With Himself As The Centre Of His 
   Universe. 
     
     
     
   Laura Resisted the First And Infrequent Coming Of These Thoughts, As If 
   They Were Suggestions Of The Evil One; But, In spite Of All Effort, All 
   Self-Reproach, They Would Return. Sometimes As Little A Thing as An 
   Elegant Pose--So Perfect, Indeed, As To Suggest That It Had Been Studied 
   And Learned by Heart Years Ago--Would Occasion Them, And The Happy Girl 
   Began To Sigh Over A Faint Foreboding Of Trouble. 
     
     
     
   By No Word Or Thought Did She Ever Show Him What Was Passing In her 
   Mind, And She Would Have To Show Such Thoughts Plainly Before He Would 
   Even Dream Of Their Existence, For No Man Ever More Thoroughly Believed 
   In Himself Than Did Auguste Beaumont. He Was Satisfied he Had Learned 
   The Best And Most Approved way Of Doing Everything, And As His Action 
   Was Always The Same, It Was, Therefore, Always Right. Moreover, Laura 
   Eventually Divined, While Calling With Him On His Parents, That The 
   Greatest Heresy And Most Aggravated offence That Any One Could Be Guilty 
   Of In the Beaumont Mansion Would Be To Find Fault With Auguste. It Would 
   Be A Crime For Which Neither Reason Nor Palliation Could Be Found. 
     
     
     
   Thus The Prismatic Hues Which Had Surrounded this Man Began To Fade, And 
   Laura, Who Had Hoped to Escape The Prose Of Life, Was Reluctantly 
   Compelled to Admit To Herself At Times That She Found Her Lover 
   Tiresomely Prosy And "Splendidly Null." 
     
     
     
   In The Meantime Haldane Had Finished the Studies Of His Second Year At 
   The Medical College, And Had Won The Respect Of His Instructors By His 
   Careful Attention To The Lectures, And By A Certain Conscientious, 
   Painstaking Manner, Rather Than By The Display Of Any Striking Or 
   Brilliant Qualities. 
     
     
     
   One July Evening, Before Taking His Summer Vacation, He Called on Mrs. 
   Arnot. The Sky In the West Was So Threatening, And The Storm Came On So 
   Rapidly, That Mr. Beaumont Did Not Venture Down To The City, And Laura, 
   Partly To Fill A Vacant Hour, And Partly To Discover Wherein The Man Of 
   To-Day, Of Whom Her Aunt Could Speak In such High Terms, Differed from 
   The Youth That She, Even As An Immature Girl, Despised, Determined to 
   Give Haldane A Little Close Observation. When He Entered she Was At The 
   Piano, Practicing a Very Difficult And Intricate Piece Of Music That 
   Beaumont Had Recently Brought To Her, And He Said: 
     
     
     
   "Please Do Not Cease Playing. Music, Which Is A Part Of Your Daily Fare, 
   Is To Me A Rarely Tasted luxury, For You Know That In hillaton There Are 
   But Few Public Concerts Even In winter." 
     
     
     
   She Gave Him A Glance Of Genuine Sympathy, As She Remembered that Only 
   At A Public Concert Where He Could Pay His Way To An Unobtrusive Seat 
   Could He Find Opportunity To Enjoy That Which Was A Part Of Her Daily 
   Life. In no Parlor Save Her Aunt'S Could He Enjoy Such Refining 
   Pleasures, And For A Reason That She Knew Well He Had Rarely Availed 
   Himself Of The Privilege. Then Another Thought Followed swiftly: "Surely 
   A Man So Isolated and Cut Off From These Aesthetic Influences Which Mr. 
   Beaumont Regards As Absolutely Essential, Must Have Become Uncouth And 
   Angular In his Development." The Wish To Discover How Far This Was True 
   Gave To Her Observation An Increasing Zest. She Generously Resolved, 
   However, To Give Him As Rich A Musical Banquet As It Was In her Power To 
   Furnish, If His Eye And Manner Asked for It. 
     
     
     
   "Please Continue What You Were Playing," He Added, "It Piques My 
   Curiosity." 
     
     
     
   As The Musical Intricacy Which Gave The Rich But Tangled fancies Of A 
   Master-Mind Proceeded, His Brow Knit In perplexity, And At Its Close He 
   Shook His Head And Remarked: 
     
     
     
   "That Is Beyond Me. Now And Then I Seemed to Catch Glimpses Of Meaning, 
   And Then All Was Obscure Again." 
     
     
     
   "It Is Beyond Me, Too," Said Mrs. Arnot With A Laugh. "Come, Laura, Give 
   Us Something Simple. I Have Heard Severely Classical And Intricate Music 
   So Long That I Am Ready To Welcome Even 'Auld Lang Syne.'" 
     
     
     
   "I Also Will Enjoy A Change To Something Old And Simple," Said Laura, 
   And Her Fingers Glided into A Selection Which Haldane Instantly 
   Recognized as Steibelt'S Storm Rondo. 
     
     
     
   As Laura Glanced at Him She Saw His Deepening Color, And Then It 
   Suddenly Flashed upon Her When She Had First Played that Music For Him, 
   And Her Own Face Flushed with Annoyance At Her Forgetfulness. After 
   Playing It Partly Through She Turned to Her Music-Stand In search Of 
   Something Else, But Haldane Said: 
     
     
     
   "Please Finish The Rondo, Miss Romeyn;" Adding, With A Frank Laugh, "You 
   Have, No Doubt, Forgotten It; But You Once, By Means Of This Music, Gave 
   Me One Of The Most Deserved and Wholesome Lessons I Ever Received." 
     
     
     
   "Your Generous Acknowledgment Of A Fancied mistake At That Time Should 
   Have Kept Me From Blunders This Evening," She Replied in a Pained tone. 
     
     
     
   With A Steady Glance That Held Her Eyes He Said Very Quietly, And Almost 
   Gently: 
     
     
     
   "You Have Made No Blunder, Miss Romeyn. I Do Not Ignore The Past, Nor Do 
   I Wish It To Be Ignored with Painstaking Care. I Am Simply Trying To 
   Face It And Overcome It As I Might An Enemy. I May Be Wrong, For You 
   Know I Have Had Little Chance To Become Versed in the Ways Of Good 
   Society; But It Appears To Me That It Would Be Better Even For Those Who 
   Are To Spend But A Social Hour Together That They Should Be Free From 
   The Constraint Which Must Exist When There Is A Constant Effort To Shun 
   Delicate Or Dangerous Ground. Please Finish The Rondo; And Also Please 
   Remember That The Ice Is Not Thin Here And There," He Added with A 
   Smile. 
     
     
     
   Laura Caught Her Aunt'S Glance, And The Significant Lighting Up Of Her 
   Face, And, With An Answering Smile, She Said: 
     
     
     
   "If You Will Permit Me To Change The Figure, I Will Suggest That You 
   Have Broken The Ice So Completely That I Shall Take You At Your Word, 
   And Play And Sing Just What You Wish;" And, Bent Upon Giving The Young 
   Man All The Pleasure She Could, She Exerted her Powers To The Utmost In 
   Widely Varied selections; And While She Saw That His Technical Knowledge 
   Was Limited, It Was Clearly Evident That He Possessed a Nature 
   Singularly Responsive To Musical Thoughts And Effects; Indeed, She Found 
   A Peculiar Pleasure And Incentive In glancing at His Face From Time To 
   Time, For She Saw Reflected there The Varied characteristics Of The 
   Melody. But Once, As She Looked up To See How He Liked an Old English 
   Ballad, She Caught That Which Instantly Brought The Hot Blood Into Her 
   Face. 
     
     
     
   Haldane Had Forgotten Himself, Forgotten That She Belonged to Another, 
   And, Under The Spell Of The Old Love Song, Had Dropped his Mask. She Saw 
   His Heart In his Gaze Of Deep, Intense Affection More Plainly Than 
   Spoken Words Could Have Revealed it. 
     
     
     
   He Started slightly As He Saw Her Conscious Blush, Turned pale Instead 
   Of Becoming Red and Embarrassed, And, Save A Slight Compression Of His 
   Lips, Made No Other Movement. She Sang The Concluding Verse Of The 
   Ballad In a Rather Unsympathetic Manner, And, After A Light Instrumental 
   Piece Devoid Of Sentiment, Rose From The Piano. 
     
     
     
   Haldane Thanked her With Frank Heartiness, And Then Added in a Playful 
   Manner That, Although The Concert Was Over, He Was Weather-Bound On 
   Account Of The Shower, And Would Therefore Try To Compensate Them For 
   Giving Him Shelter By Relating a Curious Story Which Was Not Only 
   Founded on Fact, But All Fact; And He Soon Had Both Of His Auditors 
   Deeply Interested in one Of Those Strange And Varied experiences Which 
   Occasionally Occur In real Life, And Which He Had Learned through His 
   Mission Class. The Tale Was So Full Of Lights And Shadows That Now It 
   Provoked to Laughter, And Again Almost Moved the Listeners To Tears. 
   While The Narrator Made As Little Reference To Himself As Possible, He 
   Unconsciously And Of Necessity Revealed how Practically And Vitally 
   Useful He Was To The Class Among Whom He Was Working. Partly To Draw Him 
   Out, And Partly To Learn More About Certain Characters In whom She Had 
   Become Interested, Mrs. Arnot Asked after One And Another Of Haldane'S 
   "Difficult Cases." As His Replies Suggested inevitably Something Of 
   Their Dark And Revolting History, Laura Again Forgot Herself So Far As 
   To Exclaim: 
     
     
     
   "How Can You Work Among Such People?" 
     
     
     
   After The Words Were Spoken She Was Already To Wish That She Had Bitten 
   Her Tongue Out. 
     
     
     
   "Christ Worked among Them," Replied he Gravely, And Then He Added, With 
   A Look Of Grateful Affection Toward Mrs. Arnot, "Besides, Your Aunt Has 
   Taught Me By A Happy Experience That There Are Some Possibilities Of A 
   Change For The Better In 'Such People.'" 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Haldane," Said Laura Impetuously, And With A Burning Flush, "I 
   Sincerely Beg Your Pardon. As You Were Speaking You Seemed so Like My 
   Aunt In refinement And Character That You Banished every Other 
   Association From My Mind." 
     
     
     
   His Face Lighted up With A Strong Expression Of Pleasure, And He Said: 
     
     
     
   "I Am Glad That Those Words Are So Heartily Uttered, And That There Is 
   No Premeditation In them; For If In the Faintest And Furthest Degree I 
   Can Even Resemble Mrs. Arnot, I Shall Feel That I Am Indeed making 
   Progress." 
     
     
     
   "I Shall Say What Is In my Mind Without Any Constraint Whatever," Said 
   Mrs. Arnot. "Years Ago, Egbert, When Once Visiting You In prison, To 
   Which You Had Been Sent Very Justly, I Said In effect, That In rising 
   Above Yourself And Your Circumstances, You Would Realize My Ideal Of 
   Knighthood. You Cannot Know With What Deep Pleasure I Tell You To-Night 
   That You Are Realizing This Ideal Even Beyond My Hopes." 
     
     
     
   "Mrs. Arnot," Replied haldane, In a Tone That Trembled slightly, "I Was 
   Justly Sent To That Prison, And To-Night, No Doubt, I Should Have Been 
   In Some Other Prison-House Of Human Justice--Quite Possibly," He Added, 
   In A Low, Shuddering Tone, "In The Prison-House Of God'S Justice--If You 
   Had Not Come Like An Angel Of Mercy--If You Had Not Borne With Me, 
   Taught Me, Restrained me, Helped me With A Patience Closely Akin To 
   Heaven'S Own. It Is The Hope And Prayer Of My Life That I May Some Day 
   Prove How I Appreciate All That You Have Done For Me. But, See; The 
   Storm Is Over, As All Storms Will Be In time. Good-Night, And Good-By," 
   And He Lifted her Hand To His Lips In a Manner That Was At Once So Full 
   Of Homage And Gratitude, And Also The Grace Of Natural And Unstudied 
   Action, That There Came A Rush Of Tears Into The Lady'S Eyes. 
     
     
     
   Laura Held Out Her Hand And Said: "Mr. Haldane, You Cannot Respect Me 
   More Than You Have Taught Me To Respect You." 
     
     
     
   He Shook His Head At These Words, Involuntarily Intimating That She Did 
   Not Know, And Never Could, But Departed without Trusting Himself To 
   Reply. 
     
     
     
   The Ladies Sat Quite A Long Time In silence. At Length Laura Remarked 
   With A Sigh: 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Haldane Is Mistaken. The Ice Is Thin Here And There, But I Had No 
   Idea That There Were Such Depths Beneath It" 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Did Not Reply At Once, And When She Did Perhaps She Had In 
   Mind Other Experiences Than Those Of Her Young Friend, For She Only Said 
   In A Low Musing Tone: 
     
     
     
   "Yes, He Is Right. All Storms Will Be Over In time." 
     
   
   
   
   Chapter XLIX (A Knightly Deed) 
   The Year Previous Haldane Had Buried himself Among The Mountains Of 
   Maine, But He Resolved to Spend Much Of The Present Summer In the City 
   Of New York, Studying Such Works Of Art As Were Within His Reach, 
   Haunting The Cool, Quiet Libraries, And Visiting The Hospitals, Giving 
   To The Last, As A Medical Student, The Most Of His Time. He Found 
   Himself More Lonely And Isolated among The Numberless Strange Faces Than 
   He Had Been In the Northern Forests. He Also Went To His Native City For 
   The Purpose Of Visiting Dr. Marks, And As The Family Mansion Was Closed, 
   Took A Room At The Hotel. His Old Acquaintances Stood Far Aloof At 
   First, But When Dr. Marks Carried him Off With Friendly Violence To The 
   Parsonage, And Kept Him There As A Welcome Guest, Those Who Had Known 
   Him Or His Family Concluded that They Could Shake Hands With Him, And 
   Many Took Pains To Do So, And To Congratulate Him On The Course He Was 
   Taking. Dr. Marks' Parsonage Was Emphatically The Interpreter'S House To 
   Him, And After A Brief Visit He Returned to New York More Encouraged 
   With The Hope That He Would Eventually Retrieve The Past Than Ever He 
   Had Been Before. 
     
     
     
   But Events Now Occurred which Promised to Speedily Blot Out All 
   Possibility Of An Earthly Future. In answer To His Letter Describing His 
   Visit To Dr. Marks, He Received from Mrs. Arnot A Brief Note, Saying 
   That The Warm Weather Had Affected her Very Unfavorably, And That She 
   Was Quite Ill And Had Been Losing Strength For Some Weeks. On This 
   Ground He Must Pardon Her Brief Reply. Her Closing Words Were, 
   "Persevere, Egbert. In a Few Years More The Best Homes In the Land Will 
   Be Open To You, And You Can Choose Your Society From Those Who Are 
   Honorable Here And Will Be Honored hereafter." 
     
     
     
   There Were Marks Of Feebleness In the Handwriting, And Haldane'S Anxiety 
   Was So Strongly Aroused in behalf Of His Friend That He Returned to 
   Hillaton At Once, Hoping, However, That Since The Heats Of August Were 
   Nearly Over, The Bracing Breath Of Autumn Would Bring Renewed strength. 
     
     
     
   After Being announced he Was Shown Directly Up To Mrs. Arnot'S Private 
   Parlor, And He Found Himself Where, Years Before, He Had First Met His 
   Friend. The Memory Of The Bright, Vivacious Lady Who Had Then 
   Entertained him With A Delicate Little Lunch, While She Suggested how He 
   Might Make His Earliest Venture Out Into The World Successful, Flashed 
   Into His Mind, With Thronging Thoughts Of All That Had Since Occurred; 
   But Now He Was Pained to See That His Friend Reclined feebly On Her 
   Lounge, And Held Out Her Hand Without Rising. 
     
     
     
   "I Am Glad You Have Come," She Said With Quiet Emphasis, "For Your 
   Sympathy Will Be Welcome, Although, Like Others, You Can Do Nothing For 
   Us In our Trouble." 
     
     
     
   "Mrs. Arnot," He Exclaimed in a Tone Of Deep Distress, "You Are Not 
   Seriously Ill?" 
     
     
     
   "No," She Replied, "That Is Not It. I'M Better, Or Will Be Soon, I 
   Think. Laura, Dear, Light The Gas, Please, And Egbert Can Read The 
   Telegrams For Himself. You Once Met My Sister, Mrs. Poland, Who Resides 
   In The South, I Think." 
     
     
     
   "Yes, I Remember Her Very Well. There Was Something about Her Face That 
   Haunted me For Months Afterward." 
     
     
     
   "Amy Was Once Very Beautiful, But Ill-Health Has Greatly Changed her." 
     
     
     
   In The Dusk Of The Evening Haldane Had Not Seen Laura And Mr. Beaumont, 
   As He Entered, And He Now Greeted them With A Quiet Bow; But Laura Came 
   And Gave Him Her Hand, Saying: 
     
     
     
   "We Did Not Expect You To Return So Soon, Mr. Haldane." 
     
     
     
   "After Hearing That Mrs. Arnot Was Ill I Could Not Rest Till I Had Seen 
   Her, And I Received her Note Only This Morning." 
     
     
     
   He Now Saw That Both Laura'S Eyes And Mrs. Arnot'S Were Red with 
   Weeping. 
     
     
     
   The Latter, In answer To His Questioning, Troubled face, Said: "The 
   Yellow Fever Has Broken Out In the City Where My Sister Resides. Her 
   Husband, Mr. Poland, Has Very Important Business Interests There, Which 
   He Could Not Drop Instantly. She Would Not Leave Him, And Amy, Her 
   Daughter, Would Not Leave Her Mother. Indeed, Before They Were Aware Of 
   Their Danger The Disease Had Become Epidemic, And Mr. Poland Was 
   Stricken Down. The First Telegram Is From My Sister, And States This 
   Fact; The Second There Is From My Niece, And It Breaks My Heart To Read 
   It," And She Handed it To Him And He Read As Follows: 
     
     
     
   "The Worst Has Happened. Father Very Low. Doctor Gives Little Hope. I 
   Almost Fear For Mother'S Mind. The City In panic--Our Help 
   Leaving--Medical Attendance Uncertain. It Looks As If I Should Be Left 
   Alone, And I Helpless. What Shall I Do?" 
     
     
     
   "Was There Ever A More Pathetic Cry Of Distress?" Said Mrs. Arnot, With 
   Another Burst Of Grief. "Oh That I Were Strong And Well, And I Would Fly 
   To Them At Once." 
     
     
     
   "Do You Think I Could Do Any Good By Going?" Asked laura, Stepping 
   Forward Eagerly, But Very Pale. 
     
     
     
   "No," Interposed mr. Beaumont, With Sharp Emphasis; "You Would Only 
   Become An Additional Burden, And Add To The Horrors Of The Situation." 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Beaumont Is Right; But You Are A Noble Woman Even To Think Of Such 
   A Thing," Said Haldane, And He Gave Her A Look Of Such Strong Feeling 
   And Admiration That A Little Color Came Into Her White Cheeks. 
     
     
     
   "She Does Not Realize What She Is Saying," Added mr. Beaumont. "It Would 
   Be Certain Death For An Unacclimated northener To Go Down There Now." 
     
     
     
   Laura Grew Very Pale Again. She Had Realized what She Was Saying, And 
   Was Capable Of The Sacrifice; But The Man Who Had Recognized and 
   Appreciated her Heroism Was Not The One Who Held Her Plighted troth. 
     
     
     
   Paying No Heed to Beaumont'S Last Remark, Haldane Snatched up The Daily 
   Paper That Lay Upon The Table, And Turned hastily To A Certain Place For 
   A Moment, Then, Looking at His Watch, Exclaimed eagerly: 
     
     
     
   "I Can Do It If Not A Moment Is Wasted. The Express Train For The South 
   Leaves In an Hour, And It Connects With All The Through Lines. Miss 
   Romeyn, Please Write For Me, On Your Card, An Introduction To Your 
   Cousin, Miss Poland, And I Will Present It, With The Offer Of My 
   Assistance, At The Earliest Possible Moment." 
     
     
     
   "Egbert, No!" Said Mrs. Arnot, With Strong Emphasis, And Rising From Her 
   Couch, Though So Ill And Feeble. "I Will Not Permit You To Sacrifice 
   Your Life For Comparative Strangers." 
     
     
     
   He Turned and Took Her Hand In both Of His, And Said: 
     
     
     
   "Mrs. Arnot, There Is No Time For Remonstrance, And It Is Useless. _I 
   Am Going_, And No One Shall Prevent Me." Then He Added, In tones And 
   With A Look Of Affection Which She Never Forgot, "Deeply As I Regret 
   This Sad Emergency, I Would Not, For Ten Times The Value Of My Life, 
   Lose The Opportunity It Gives Me. I Can Now Show You A Small Part Of My 
   Gratitude By Serving Those You Love. Besides, As You Say, That Telegram 
   Is Such A Pathetic Cry Of Distress That, Were You All Strangers, I Would 
   Obey Its Unconscious Command. But Haste, The Card!" 
     
     
     
   "Egbert, You Are Excited; You Do Not Realize What You Are Saying!" Cried 
   The Agitated lady. 
     
     
     
   He Looked at Her Steadily For A Moment, And Then Said, In a Tone So 
   Quiet And Firm That It Ended all Remonstrance, "I Realize Fully What I 
   Am Doing, And It Is My Right To Decide Upon My Own Action. To You, At 
   Least, I Never Broke My Word, And I Assure You That I Will Go. Miss 
   Romeyn, Will You Oblige Me By Instantly Writing That Card? Your Aunt Is 
   Not Able To Write It." 
     
     
     
   His Manner Was So Authoritative That Laura Wrote With A Trembling Hand: 
     
     
     
   "The Bearer Is A Very Dear Friend Of Aunt'S. How Brave And Noble 
   A Man He Is You Can Learn From The Fact That He Comes To Your Aid Now. 
   In Deepest Sympathy And Love, 
     
     
     
   "Laura." 
     
     
     
   "Good-By, My Dear, Kind Friend," Said Haldane Cheerily To Mrs. Arnot 
   While Laura Was Writing; "You Overrate The Danger. I Feel That I Shall 
   Return Again, And If I Do Not, There Are Many Worse Evils Than Dying." 
     
     
     
   "Your Mother," Said Mrs. Arnot, With A Low Sob. 
     
     
     
   "I Shall Write To Her A Long Letter On The Way And Explain Everything." 
     
     
     
   "She Will Feel That It Never Can Be Explained." 
     
     
     
   "I Cannot Help It," Replied the Young Man Resolutely; "I Know That I Am 
   Doing Right, Or My Conscience Is Of No Use To Me Whatever." 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Put Her Arms Around His Neck As If She Were His Mother, And 
   Said In low, Broken Tones: 
     
     
     
   "God Bless You, And Go With You, My True Knight; Nay, Let Me Call You My 
   Own Dear Son This Once. I Will Thank You In heaven For All This, If Not 
   Here," And Then She Kissed him Again And Again. 
     
     
     
   "You Have Now Repaid Me A Thousand-Fold," He Faltered, And Then Broke 
   Away. 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Haldane," Said Laura Tearfully, As He Turned to Her, "Cousin Amy 
   And I Have Been The Closest Friends From Childhood, And I Cannot Tell 
   You How Deeply I Appreciate Your Going To Her Aid. I Could Not Expect A 
   Brother To Take Such A Risk." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Felt That His Present Chance To Look Into Laura'S Face Might Be 
   His Last, And Again, Before He Was Aware, He Let His Eyes Reveal All His 
   Heart. She Saw As If Written In them, "A Brother Might Not Be Willing To 
   Take The Risk, But I Am." 
     
     
     
   "Do I Then Render You A Special Service?" He Asked, In a Low Tone. 
     
     
     
   "You Could Not Render Me A Greater One." 
     
     
     
   "Why, This Is Better Than I Thought," He Said. "How Fortunate I Was In 
   Coming This Evening! There, Please Do Not Look So Distressed. A Soldier 
   Takes Such Risks As These Every Day, And Never Thinks Of Them. You Have 
   Before You A Happy Life, Miss Laura, And I Am Very, Very Glad. Good 
   Courage, And Good-By," And His Manner Now Was Frank, Cheerful, And 
   Brotherly. 
     
     
     
   She Partly Obeyed an Impulse To Speak, But Checked it, And Tremblingly 
   Bent Her Head; But The Pressure She Gave His Hand Meant More Than He Or 
   Even She Herself Understood At The Time. 
     
     
     
   "Good-By, Mr. Beaumont," He Said, Hurriedly. "I Need not Wish You 
   Happiness, Since You Already Possess It;" And He Hastened from The Room 
   And The House Without Once Looking Back. 
     
     
     
   A Moment Later They Heard His Rapid Resolute Tread Echoing From The 
   Stony Pavement, But It Speedily Died away. 
     
     
     
   Laura Listened breathlessly At The Window Until The Faintest Sound 
   Ceased. She Had Had Her Wish. She Had Seen A Man Who Was Good Enough And 
   Brave Enough To Face Any Danger To Which He Felt Impelled by A Chivalric 
   Sense Of Duty. She Had Seen A Man Depart Upon As Knightly An Expedition 
   As Any Of Which She Had Ever Read, But It Was Not Her Knight. 
     
     
     
   "This Young Haldane Is A Brave Fellow, And I Had No Idea That There Was 
   So Much Of Him," Remarked mr. Beaumont In his Quiet And Refined tones. 
   "Really, Take It All Together, This Has Been A Scene Worthy Of The Brush 
   Of A Great Painter." 
     
     
     
   "Oh, Auguste!" Exclaimed laura; "How Can You Look Only On The Aesthetic 
   Side Of Such A Scene?" And She Threw Herself Into A Low Chair And Sobbed 
   As If Her Heart Would Break. 
     
     
     
   Mr. Beaumont Was Much Perplexed, For He Found That All Of His Elegant 
   Platitudes Were Powerless Either To Comfort Or To Soothe Her. 
     
     
     
   "Leave Her With Me," Said Mrs. Arnot. "The Excitements Of The Day Have 
   Been Too Much For Her. She Will Be Better To-Morrow." 
     
     
     
   Mr. Beaumont Was Glad To Obey. He Had Been Accustomed from Childhood To 
   Leave All Disagreeable Duties To Others, And He Thought That Laura Had 
   Become A Trifle Hysterical. "A Little Lavender And Sleep Is All That She 
   Requires," He Remarked to Himself As He Walked home In the Starlight. 
   "But, By Jove! She Is More Lovely In tears Than In smiles." 
     
     
     
   That He, Auguste Beaumont, Should Risk The Loss Of Her And All His Other 
   Possessions By Exposing His Precious Person To A Loathsome Disease Did 
   Not Enter His Mind. 
     
     
     
   "Oh, Auntie, Auntie, I Would Rather Have Gone Myself And Died, Than Feel 
   As I Do To-Night," Sobbed laura. 
     
     
     
   "'Courage' Was Egbert'S Last Word To You, Laura," Said Mrs. Arnot, "And 
   Courage And Faith Must Be Our Watchwords Now. We Must Act, Too, And At 
   Once. Please Tell Your Uncle I Wish A Draft For Five Hundred dollars 
   Immediately, And Explain Why. Then Inclose It In a Note To Egbert, And 
   See That Michael Puts It In his Hands At The Depot. Write To Egbert Not 
   To Spare Money Where It May Be Of Any Use, Or Can Secure Any Comfort. We 
   Cannot Tell How Your Aunt Amy Is Situated, And Money Is Always Useful. 
   We Must Telegraph To Your Cousin Amy That A Friend Is Coming. Let Us 
   Realize What Courage, Prayer, And Faith Can Accomplish. Action Will Do 
   You Good, Laura." 
     
     
     
   The Girl Sprang To Her Feet And Carried out Her Aunt'S Wishes With 
   Precision. That Was The Kind Of "Lavender" Which Her Nature Required. 
     
     
     
   After Writing all That Her Aunt Dictated, She Added on Her Own Part: 
     
     
     
   If The Knowledge That I Honor You Above Other Men Can Sustain You, Rest 
   Assured that This Is True; If My Sympathy And Constant Remembrance Can 
   Lighten Your Burdens, Know That You And Those You Serve Will Rarely Be 
   Absent From My Thoughts. You Make Light Of Your Heroic Act. To Me It Is 
   A Revelation. I Did Not Know That Men Could Be So Strong And Noble In 
   Our Day. Whether Such Words Are Right Or Conventional, I Have Not Even 
   Thought. My Heart Is Full And I Must Speak Them. That God May Bless You, 
   Aid You In serving Those I Love So Dearly, And Return You In safety, 
   Will Be My Constant Prayer. 
     
     
     
   Auntie Falters Out One More Message, "Tell Egbert That Sister Amy'S 
   Household Have Not Our Faith; Suggest It, Teach It If You Can." 
   Farewell, Truest Of Friends. Laura Romeyn. 
     
     
     
   Mr. Growther Was Asleep In his Chair When Haldane Entered, And He Stole 
   By Him And Made Preparations For Departure With Silent Celerity. Then, 
   Valise In hand, He Touched his Old Friend, Who Started up, And 
   Exclaimed: 
     
     
     
   "Lord A' Massy, Where Did You Come From, And Where Yer Goin'? You Look 
   Kinder Sperit Like. I Say, Am I Awake? I Was Dreamin' You Was Startin' 
   Off To Kill Somebody." 
     
     
     
   "Dreams Go By Contraries. It May Be A Long Time Before We Meet Again. 
   But We Shall Have Many A Good Talk Over Old Times, If Not Here, Why, In 
   The Better Home, For Your 'Peaked-Faced little Chap' Will Surely Lead 
   You There," And He Explained all In a Few Brief Sentences. "And Now, My 
   Kind, True Friend, Good-By. I Thank You From My Heart For The Shelter 
   You Have Given Me, And For Your Stanch Friendship When Friends Were So 
   Few. You Have Done All That You Could To Make A Man Of Me, And Now That 
   You Won'T Have Time To Quarrel With Me About It, I Tell You To Your Face 
   That You Are Not A Mean Man. There Are Few Larger-Hearted, Larger-Souled 
   Men In this City," And Before The Bewildered old Gentleman Could Reply, 
   He Was Gone. 
     
     
     
   "Lord A' Massy, Lord A' Massy," Groaned mr. Growther, "The Bottom Is 
   Jest Fallin' Out O' Everything. If He Dies With The Yellow-Jack I'Ll Git 
   To Cussin' As Bad As Ever." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Found Mrs. Arnot'S Coachman At The Depot With The Letter Laura 
   Had Written. As He Read It His Face Flushed with The Deepest Pleasure. 
   Having a Few Moments To Spare, He Pencilled hastily: 
     
     
     
   "Miss Romeyn--I Have Received from Michael The Letter With The Draft. 
   Say To Mrs. Arnot I Shall Obey Both The Letter And Spirit Of Her 
   Instructions. Let Me Add For Myself That My Best Hopes Are More Than 
   Fulfilled. That You, Who Know All My Past, Could Write Such Words Seems 
   Like A Heavenly Dream. But I Assure You That You Overestimate Both The 
   Character Of My Action And The Danger. It Is All Plain, Simple Duty, 
   Which Hundreds Of Men Would Perform As A Matter Of Course. I Ask But One 
   Favor, Please Look After Mr. Growther. He Is Growing Old And Feeble; I 
   Owe Him So Much--Mrs. Arnot Will Tell You. Yours--" 
     
     
     
   "He Couldn'T Write A Word More, Miss, The Train Was A Movin' When He 
   Jumped on," Said Michael When He Delivered the Note. 
     
     
     
   But That Final Word Had For Laura No Conventional Meaning. She Had Long 
   Known That Haldane Was, In truth, Hers, And She Had Deeply Regretted the 
   Fact, And Would At Any Time Have Willingly Broken The Chain That Bound 
   Him, Had It Been In her Power. Would She Break It To-Night? Yes, 
   Unhesitatingly; But It Would Now Cost Her A Pain To Do So, Which, At 
   First, She Would Not Understand. On That Stormy July Evening When She 
   Gave Haldane A Little Private Concert She Had Obtained a Glimpse Of A 
   Manhood Unknown To Her Before, And It Was Full Of Pleasing Suggestion. 
   To-Night That Same Manhood Which Is At Once So Strong, And Yet So 
   Unselfish And Gentle, Had Stood Out Before Her Distinct And Luminous In 
   The Light Of A Knightly Deed, And She Saw With The Absoluteness Of 
   Irresistible Conviction That Such A Manhood Was Above And Beyond All 
   Surface Polish, All Mere Aesthetic Culture, All Earthly Rank--That It 
   Was Something That Belonged to God, And Partook Of The Eternity Of His 
   Greatness And Permanence. 
     
     
     
   By The Kindred and Noble Possibilities Of Her Own Womanly Nature, She 
   Was Of Necessity Deeply Interested in such A Man, Having Once Recognized 
   Him; And Now For Weeks She Must Think Of Him As Consciously Serving Her 
   In The Most Knightly Way And At The Hourly Risk Of His Life, And Yet 
   Hoping For No Greater Reward Than Her Esteem And Respect. While She Knew 
   That He Would Have Gone Eagerly For Her Aunt'S Sake, And Might Have Gone 
   From A Mere Sense Of Duty, She Had Been Clearly Shown That The Thought 
   Of Serving Her Had Turned his Dangerous Task Into A Privilege And A Joy. 
   Could She Follow Such A Man Daily And Hourly With Her Thoughts, Could 
   She In vivid Imagination Watch His Self-Sacrificing Efforts To Minister 
   To, And Save Those She Loved, With Only The Cool, Decorous Interest That 
   Mr. Beaumont Would Deem Proper In the Woman Betrothed to Himself? The 
   Future Must Answer This Question. 
     
     
     
   When Haldane Had Asked for A Ticket To The Southern City To Which He Was 
   Destined, The Agent Stared at Him A Moment And Said: 
     
     
     
   "Don'T You Know Yellow Fever Is Epidemic There?" 
     
     
     
   "Yes," Replied haldane With Such Cold Reserve Of Manner That No Further 
   Questions Were Asked; But The Fact That He, A Medical Student, Had 
   Bought A Ticket For The Plague-Stricken City Was Stated in the "Courier" 
   The Following Morning. His Old Friend Mr. Ivison Soon Informed himself 
   Of The Whole Affair, And In a Glowing Letter Of Eulogy Made It 
   Impossible For Any One To Charge That Mrs. Arnot Had Asked the Young Man 
   To Go To The Aid Of Her Relatives At Such Tremendous Personal Risk. 
   Indeed it Was Clearly Stated, With The Unimpeachable Mr. Beaumont As 
   Authority, That She Had Entreated him Not To Go, And Had Not The 
   Slightest Expectation Of His Going Until He Surprised her By His 
   Unalterable Decision. 
     
     
     
   After Reading and Talking Over This Letter, Sustained as It Had Been By 
   Years Of Straightforward Duty, Even Good Society Concluded that It Could 
   Socially Recognize And Receive This Man; And Yet, As The Old Lady Had 
   Remarked, There Was Still An Excellent Prospect That He Would Enter 
   Heaven Before He Found A Welcome To The Exclusive Circles Of Hillaton. 
   
   
   
   Chapter L ("O Dreaded death!") 
   Haldane Found Time In the Enforced pauses Of His Journey To Write A Long 
   And Affectionate Letter To His Mother, Explaining all, And Asking Her 
   Forgiveness Again, As He Often Had Before. He Also Wrote To Mrs. Arnot A 
   Cheerful Note, In which He Tried to Put His Course In the Most Ordinary 
   And Matter-Of-Fact Light Possible, Saying That As A Medical Student It 
   Was The Most Natural Thing In the World For Him To Do. 
     
     
     
   As He Approached the Infected city He Had The Train Chiefly To Himself, 
   And He Saw That The Outgoing Trains Were Full, And When At Last He 
   Walked its Streets It Reminded him Of A Household Of Which Some Member 
   Is Very Ill, Or Dead, And The Few Who Were Moving about Walked as If 
   Under A Sad Constraint And Gloom. On Most Faces Were Seen Evidences Of 
   Anxiety And Trouble, While A Few Were Reckless. 
     
     
     
   Having Obtained a Carriage, He Was Driven To Mr. Poland'S Residence In a 
   Suburb. He Dismissed the Carriage At The Gate, Preferring To Quietly 
   Announce Himself. The Sultry Day Was Drawing To A Close As He Walked up 
   The Gravelled drive That Led to The House. Not Even The Faintest Zephyr 
   Stirred the Luxuriant Tropical Foliage That Here And There Shadowed his 
   Path, And Yet The Stillness And Quiet Of Nature Did Not Suggest Peace 
   And Repose So Much As It Did Death. The Motionless Air, Heavily Laden 
   With A Certain Dead Sweetness Of Flowers From The Neighboring Garden, 
   Might Well Bring To Mind The Breathless Silence And The Heavy Atmosphere 
   Of The Chamber In which The Lifeless Form And The Fading Funeral Wreath 
   Are Perishing Together. 
     
     
     
   So Oppressed was Haldane He Found Himself Walking Softly And Mounting 
   The Steps Of The Piazza With A Silent Tread, As If He Were In truth 
   Approaching The Majesty Of Death. Before He Could Ring The Bell There 
   Came From The Parlor A Low, Sad Prelude, Played on A Small Reed organ 
   That Had Been Built In the Room, And Then A Contralto Voice Of Peculiar 
   Sweetness Sang The Following Words With Such Depth Of Feeling That One 
   Felt That They Revealed the Innermost Emotion Of The Heart: 
     
     
     
   O Priceless Life! Warm, Throbbing Life, With Thought And Love And 
   Passion Rife, I Cling To Thee. Thou Art An Isle In the Ocean Wide; Thou 
   Art A Barque Above The Tide; How Vague And Void Is All Beside! I Cling 
   To Thee. 
     
     
     
   O Dreaded death! Cold, Pallid Death, Despair Is In thy Icy Breath; I 
   Shrink From Thee. What Victims Wilt Thou Next Enroll? Thou Hast A Terror 
   For My Soul Which Will Nor Reason Can Control; I Shrink From Thee. 
     
     
     
   Then Followed a Sound That Was Like A Low Sob. This Surely Was Amy, 
   Laura'S Cousin-Friend, And Already She Had Won The Whole Sympathy Of His 
   Heart. 
     
     
     
   After Ringing The Bell He Heard Her Step, And Then She Paused, As He 
   Rightly Surmised, To Wipe Away The Thickly Falling Tears. He Was Almost 
   Startled when She Appeared before Him, For The Maiden Had Inherited the 
   Peculiar And Striking Beauty Of Her Mother. Sorrow And Watching Had 
   Brought Unusual Pallor To Her Cheeks; But Her Eyes Were So Large, So 
   Dark And Intense, That They Suggested spirit Rather Than Flesh And 
   Blood. 
     
     
     
   "I Think That This Is Miss Poland," Commenced haldane In a Manner That 
   Was Marked by Both Sympathy And Respect, And He Was About To Hand Her 
   His Card Of Introduction, When She Stepped eagerly Forward And Took His 
   Hand, Saying: "You Are Mr. Haldane. I Know It At A Glance." 
     
     
     
   "Yes, And Wholly At Your Service." 
     
     
     
   Still Retaining His Hand, She Looked for A Second Into His Face, As If 
   She Would Read His Soul And Gauge The Compass Of His Nature; So Intent 
   And Penetrating Was Her Gaze, That Haldane Felt That If There Had Been 
   Any Wavering Or Weakness On His Part She Would Have Known It As Truly As 
   Himself. 
     
     
     
   Her Face Suddenly Lighted up With Gratitude And Friendliness, And She 
   Said, Earnestly: 
     
     
     
   "I _Do_ Thank You For Coming. I Had Purposed asking You Not To Take 
   So Great A Risk For Us, But To Return; For, To Be Frank With You, Our 
   Physician Has Told Me That Your Risk Is Terribly Great; But I See That 
   You Are One That Would Not Turn Back." 
     
     
     
   "You Are Right, Miss Poland." Then He Added, With A Frank Smile, "There 
   Is Nothing Terrible To Me In the Risk You Speak Of. I Honestly Feel It A 
   Privilege To Come To Your Aid, And I Have But One Request To Make: That 
   You Will Let Me Serve You In any Way And Every Way Possible. By Any 
   Hesitancy And Undue Delicacy In this Respect You Will Greatly Pain Me." 
     
     
     
   "Oh!" She Exclaimed in a Low And Almost Passionate Tone, "I Am So Glad 
   You Have Come, For I Was Almost Desperate." 
     
     
     
   "Your Father?" Asked haldane Very Gravely. 
     
     
     
   "He Is More Quiet, And I Try To Think He Is Better, But Doctor Won'T Say 
   That He Is. Ah, There He Is Coming Now." 
     
     
     
   A Carriage Drove Rapidly To The Door, And The Physician Sprang Up The 
   Steps As If The Hours Were Short For The Increasing Pressure Of His 
   Work. 
     
     
     
   "Miss Amy, Why Are You Here Yet? I Hoped that You And Your Little Sister 
   Were On Your Way To The Mountains," He Said, Taking Her Hand. 
     
     
     
   "Please Do Not Speak Of It Again," She Replied. "I Cannot Leave Father 
   And Mother, And Bertha, You Know, Is Too Young And Nervous A Child To Be 
   Forced to Go Away Alone. We Must All Remain Together, And Hope The Best 
   From Your Skill." 
     
     
     
   "God Knows I'M Doing all In my Power To Save My Dear Old Friend Poland," 
   Said The Physician Huskily, And Then He Shook His Head As If He Had 
   Little Hope. "How Is He Now?" 
     
     
     
   "Better, I Think. Dr. Orton, This Is The Friend Of Whom I Spoke, Mr. 
   Haldane." 
     
     
     
   "You Have Always Lived at The North?" Asked the Physician, Looking The 
   Young Man Over With A Quick Glance. 
     
     
     
   "Yes, Sir." 
     
     
     
   "Do You Realize The Probable Consequences Of This Exposure To One Not 
   Acclimated?" 
     
     
     
   "Dr. Orton, I Am A Medical Student, And I Have Come To Do My Duty, Which 
   Here Will Be To Carry Out Strictly Your Directions. I Have Only One Deep 
   Cause For Anxiety, And That Is That I May Be Taken With The Disease 
   Before I Can Be Of Much Use. So Please Give Me Work At Once." 
     
     
     
   "Give Me Your Hand, Old Fellow. You Do Our Profession Credit, If Not 
   Fully Fledged. You Are Right, We Must All Do What We Can While We Can, 
   For The Lord Only Knows How Many Hours Are Left To Any Of Us. But, Amy, 
   My Dear, It Makes Me Feel Like Praying and Swearing In the Same Breath 
   To Find You Still In this Infernal City. A Friend Promised to Call This 
   Morning and Take You And Your Sister Away." 
     
     
     
   "We Cannot Go." 
     
     
     
   "Well, Well, As Long As The Old Doctor Is Above Ground He Will Try To 
   Take Care Of You; And This Young Gentleman Can Be Invaluable If He Can 
   Hold On For A While Before Following Too General A Fashion. Come, Sir, I 
   Will Install You As Nurse At Once." 
     
     
     
   "Doctor, Doctor Orton, What Have You Brought For Me?" Cried a Childish 
   Voice And A Little Girl, Fair And Blue-Eyed, Came Fluttering Down The 
   Stairs, Intercepting Them On The Way To Mr. Poland'S Room. 
     
     
     
   "Ah! There'S My Good Little Fairy," Said The Kind-Hearted man, Taking 
   Her In his Arms And Kissing Her. "Look In my Pockets, Little One, And 
   See What You Can Find." 
     
     
     
   With Delightful Unconsciousness Of The Shadows Around Her The Child 
   Fumbled in his Pockets And Soon Pulled out A Picture-Book. 
     
     
     
   "No Candy Yet?" She Exclaimed in disappointment. 
     
     
     
   "No Candy At All, Bertha, Nothing But Good Plain Food Till Next Winter. 
   You Make Sure Of This, I Suppose," He Said Significantly To The Elder 
   Sister. 
     
     
     
   "Yes, As Far As Possible. I Will Wait For You Here." 
     
     
     
   They Ascended to A Large Airy Room On The Second Floor. Even To Haldane, 
   Mr. Poland Appeared far Down In the Dark Valley; But He Was In that 
   Quiet And Conscious State Which Follows The First Stage Of The Fever, 
   Which In his Case, Owing To His Vigorous Frame, Had Been Unusually 
   Prolonged. 
     
     
     
   Without A Word The Doctor Felt The Sick Man'S Pulse, Who Bent Upon Him 
   His Questioning Eyes. From The Further Side Of The Bed, Mrs. Poland, 
   Sitting Feebly In her Chair, Also Fixed upon The Physician The Same 
   Intense Searching Gaze That Haldane Had Sustained from The Daughter. Dr. 
   Orton Looked for A Moment Into Her Pale, Thin Face, Which Might Have 
   Been Taken As A Model For Agonized anxiety, And Then Looked away Again, 
   For He Could Not Endure Its Expression. 
     
     
     
   "Orton, Tell Me The Truth; No Wincing Now," Said Mr. Poland In low, 
   Thick Utterance. 
     
     
     
   "My Dear Old Friend, It Cuts Me To The Heart To Say It, But If You Have 
   Anything Special That You Would Like To Say To Your Family I Think You 
   Had Better Say It Now." 
     
     
     
   "Then I Am Going To Die," Said The Man And Both His Tone And Face Were 
   Full Of Awe; While Poor Mrs. Poland Looked as If _In Extremis_ Herself. 
     
     
     
   "This Return And Rapid Rise Of Fever At This Late Day Looks Very Bad," 
   Said The Physician, Gloomily, "And You Insisted on Knowing The Truth." 
     
     
     
   "You Ever Were An Honest Friend, Orton; I Know You Have Done Your Best 
   For Me, And, Although Worked to Death, Have Come To See Me Often. I 
   Leave My Family In your Charge. God Grant I May Be The Only One To 
   Suffer. May I See The Children?" 
     
     
     
   "Yes, A Few Moments; But I Do Not Wish Them To Be In this Room Long." 
     
     
     
   "Don'T Go Just Yet, Orton. I--To Tell You The Truth, I Feel That Dying 
   Is Rather Serious Business, And You And I Have Always Taken Life 
   Somewhat As A Good Joke. Call The Girls." 
     
     
     
   They Came And Stood By Their Mother. Amy Was Beyond Tears, But Little 
   Bertha Could Not Understand It, And With Difficulty Could Be Kept From 
   Clambering Upon The Bed to Her Father. 
     
     
     
   "Amy'S Naughty, She Keeps Me Away From You, Papa. I'Ve Been Wanting To 
   See You All Day, And Amy Won'T Let Me." 
     
     
     
   The Doctor And Haldane Retired to The Hallway. 
     
     
     
   There Was An Unutterable Look In the Dying Man'S Eyes As He Fixed them 
   On The Little Group. 
     
     
     
   "How Can I Leave You? How Can I Leave You?" He Groaned. 
     
     
     
   At This The Child Began To Cry, And Again Struggled to Reach Her Father. 
   She Was Evidently His Idol, And He Prayed, "Wherever I Go--Whatever 
   Becomes Of Me, God Grant I May See That Child Again." 
     
     
     
   "Mother," He Said (He Always Called his Wife By That Endearing Name), 
   "I'M Sure You Are Mistaken. I Want To See You All Again With Such 
   Intense Longing That I Feel I Shall. This Life Can'T Be All. My Hearts 
   Revolts At It. It'S Fiendish Cruelty To Tear Asunder Forever Those Who 
   Love As We Do. As I Told You Before, I'M Going To Take My Chances--With 
   The Publican. Oh! That Some One Could Make A Prayer! Orton!" He Called 
   Feebly. 
     
     
     
   The Doctor Entered, Leaving The Door Open. 
     
     
     
   "Couldn'T You Offer A Short Prayer? You May Think It Unmanly In me, But 
   I Am In sore Straits, And I Want To See These Loved ones Again." 
     
     
     
   "Haldane," Cried dr. Orton, "Here, Offer A Prayer, For God'S Sake, If 
   You Can. I Feel As If I Were Choking." 
     
     
     
   Without Any Hesitancy Or Mannerism The Christian Man Knelt At Mr. 
   Poland'S Bedside And Offered as Simple And Natural A Prayer As He Would 
   Have Spoken To The Divine Man In person Had He Gone To Him In judea, 
   Centuries Ago, In behalf Of A Friend. His Faith Was So Absolute That He 
   That Was Petitioned became A Living Presence To Those Who Listened. 
     
     
     
   "God Bless You, Whoever You Are," Said The Sick Man. "Oh, That Does Me 
   Good! It'S Less Dark. It Seems To Me That I'Ve Got Hold Of A Hand That 
   Can Sustain Me." 
     
     
     
   "Bress De Lord!" Ejaculated an Old Negress Who Sat In a Distant Corner. 
     
     
     
   "I Install This Young Man As Your Nurse To-Night," Said Dr. Orton, 
   Huskily; "I'Ll Be Here In the Morning. Come, Little Girls, Go Now." 
     
     
     
   "We Shall Meet Again, Amy; We Shall Meet Again, Bertie, Darling; 
   Remember Papa Said It And Believed it." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Saw A Strange Blending Of Love And Terror In amy'S Eyes As She 
   Led her Little And Bewildered sister From The Room. 
     
     
     
   Dr. Orton Took Him One Side And Rapidly Gave His Directions. "His 
   Pulse," He Said, "Indicates That He May Be Violent During The Night; If 
   So, Induce Mrs. Poland To Retire, If Possible. I Doubt If He Lives Till 
   Morning." He Then Told Haldane Of Such Precautions As He Should Take For 
   His Own Safety, And Departed. 
     
     
     
   The Horrors Of That Night Cannot Be Portrayed. As The Fever Rose Higher 
   And Higher, All Evidence Of The Kind, Loving Husband And Father 
   Perished, And There Remained only A Disease-Tortured body. The Awful 
   Black Vomit Soon Set In. The Strong Physical Nature In its Dying Throes 
   Taxed haldane'S Powerful Strength To The Utmost, And Only By Constant 
   Effort And Main Force Could He Keep The Sufferer In his Bed. Mrs. Poland 
   And The Old Colored woman Who Assisted her Would Have Been Totally 
   Unequal To The Occasion. Indeed, The Wife Was Simply Appalled and 
   Overwhelmed with Grief And Horror, For The Poor Man, Unconscious Of All 
   Save Pain, And In accordance With A Common Phase Of The Disease, Filled 
   The Night With Unearthly Cries And Shrieks. But Before The Morning 
   Dawned, Instead Of Tossing and Delirium There Was The Calm Serenity Of 
   Death. 
     
     
     
   As Haldane Composed the Form For Its Last Sleep He Said: 
     
     
     
   "My Dear Mrs. Poland, Your Faithful Watch Is Ended, Your Husband Suffers 
   No More; Now, Surely You Will Yield To My Entreaty And Go To Your Room. 
   I Will See That Everything Is Properly Attended to." 
     
     
     
   The Poor Woman Was Bending Over Her Husband'S Ashes, Almost As 
   Motionless As They, And Her Answer Was A Low Cry As She Fell Across His 
   Body In a Swoon. 
     
     
     
   Haldane Lifted her Gently Up, And Carried her From The Room. 
     
     
     
   Crouching at The Door Of The Death-Chamber, Her Eyes Dilated with 
   Horror, He Found Poor Amy. 
     
     
     
   "Is Mother Dead Also?" She Gasped. 
     
     
     
   "No, Miss Amy. She Only Needs Your Care To Revive Speedily. Please Lead 
   The Way To Your Mother'S Apartment." 
     
     
     
   "I Think There Is A God, And That He Sent You" She Whispered. 
     
     
     
   "You Are Right," He Replied, In the Natural Hearty Tone Which Is So 
   Potent In reassuring The Terror-Stricken. "Courage, Miss Amy; All Will 
   Be Well At Last. Now Let Me Help You Like A Brother, And When Your 
   Mother Revives, I Will Give Her Something To Make Her Sleep; I Then Wish 
   You To Sleep Also." 
     
     
     
   The Poor Lady Revived after A Time, And Tried to Rise That She Might 
   Return To Her Husband'S Room, But Fell Back In utter Weakness. 
     
     
     
   "Mrs. Poland," Said Haldane Gently, "You Can Do No Good There. You Must 
   Live For Your Children Now." 
     
     
     
   She Soon Was Sleeping Under The Influence Of An Opiate. 
     
     
     
   "Will You Rest, Too, Miss Amy?" Asked haldane. 
     
     
     
   "I Will Try," She Faltered; But Her Large, Dark Eyes Looked as If They 
   Never Would Close Again. 
     
     
     
   Returning To The Room Over Which So Deep A Hush Had Fallen, Haldane Gave 
   A Few Directions To The Old Negress Whom He Left In charge, And Then 
   Sought The Rest He So Greatly Needed himself. 
   
   
   
   Chapter LI "O Priceless Life!" 
   When Haldane Came Down The Following Morning He Found Bertha Playing On 
   The Piazza As Unconscious Of The Loss Of Her Father As The Birds Singing 
   Among The Trees Of Their Master. Amy Soon Joined them, And Haldane Saw 
   That Her Eyes Had The Same Appealing and Indescribable Expression, Both 
   Of Sadness And Terror, Reminding One Of Some Timid And Beautiful Animal 
   That Had Been Brought To Bay By An Enemy That Was Feared inexpressibly, 
   But From Which There Seemed no Escape. 
     
     
     
   He Took Her Hand With A Strong And Reassuring Pressure. 
     
     
     
   "Oh," She Exclaimed with A Slight Shudder, "How Can The Sun Shine? The 
   Birds, Too, Are Singing as If There Were No Death And Sorrow In the 
   World." 
     
     
     
   "Only A Perfect Faith, Miss Amy, Can Enable Us, Who Do Know There Is 
   Death And Sorrow, To Follow Their Example." 
     
     
     
   "It'S All A Black Mystery To Me," She Replied, Turning away. 
     
     
     
   "So It Was To Me Once." 
     
     
     
   An Old Colored man, The Husband Of The Negress Who Had Assisted haldane 
   In His Watch, Now Appeared and Announced breakfast. 
     
     
     
   It Was A Comparatively Silent Meal, Little Bertha Doing Most Of The 
   Talking. Amy Would Not Have Touched a Mouthful Had It Not Been For 
   Haldane'S Persuasion. 
     
     
     
   As Soon As Bertha Had Finished, She Said To Haldane: 
     
     
     
   "Amy Told Me That You Did Papa Ever So Much Good Last Evening: Now I 
   Want To See Him Right Away." 
     
     
     
   "Does She Not Know?" Asked haldane In a Low Tone. 
     
     
     
   Amy Shook Her Head. "It'S Too Awful. What Can I Tell Her?" She Faltered. 
     
     
     
   "It Is Indeed inexpressibly Sad, But I Think I Can Tell The Child 
   Without Its Seeming awful To Her, And Yet Tell Her The Truth," He 
   Replied. "Shall I Try To Explain?" 
     
     
     
   "Yes, And Let Me Listen, Too, If You Can Rob The Event Of Any Of Its 
   Unutterable Horror." 
     
     
     
   "Will Bertie Come And Listen To Me If I Will Tell Her About Papa?" 
     
     
     
   The Child Climbed into His Lap At Once, And Turned her Large Blue Eyes 
   Up To His In perfect Faith. 
     
     
     
   "Don'T You Remember That Papa Spoke Last Night Of Leaving You; But Said 
   You Would Surely Meet Again?" 
     
     
     
   At This The Child'S Lip Began To Quiver, And She Said: "But Papa Always 
   Comes And Kisses Me Good-By Before He Goes Away." 
     
     
     
   "Perhaps He Did, Bertie, When You Were Asleep In your Crib Last Night." 
     
     
     
   "Oh Yes, Now I'M Sure He Did If He'S Gone Away, 'Cause I 'Member He Once 
   Woke Me Up Kissing Me Good-By." 
     
     
     
   "I Think He Kissed you Very Softly, And So You Didn'T Wake. Our Dear 
   Saviour, Jesus, Came Last Night, And Papa Went Away With Him. But He 
   Loves You Just As Much As Ever, And He Isn'T Sick Any More, And You Will 
   Surely See Him Again." 
     
     
     
   "Do You Think He Will Bring Me Something Nice When He Comes?" 
     
     
     
   "When You See Him Again He Will Have For You, Bertie, More Beautiful 
   Things Than You Ever Saw Before In all Your Life, But It May Be A Long 
   Time Before You See Him." 
     
     
     
   The Child Slipped down From His Knees Quite Satisfied and Full Of 
   Pleasant Anticipation, And Went Back To Her Play On The Piazza. 
     
     
     
   "Do You Believe All That?" Asked amy, Looking as If Bertha Had Been Told 
   A Fairy Tale. 
     
     
     
   "I Do, Indeed. I Have Told The Child What I Regard As The Highest Form 
   Of The Truth, Though Expressed in simple Language. Miss Amy, I Know That 
   Your Father Was Ever Kind To You. Did He Ever Turn Coldly Away From Any 
   Earnest Appeal Of Yours?" 
     
     
     
   "Never, Never," Cried the Girl, With A Rush Of Tears. 
     
     
     
   "And Can You Believe That His Heavenly Father Turned from His Touching 
   Appeal Last Night? Christ Said To Those Who Were Trusting In him, 'I 
   Will Come Again And Receive You Unto Myself; That Where I Am There Ye 
   May Be Also.' As Long As Your Father Was Conscious, He Was Clinging To 
   That Divine Hand That Has Never Failed one True Believer In all These 
   Centuries. Surely, Miss Amy, Your Own Reason Tells You That The Poor 
   Helpless Form That We Must Bury Today Is Not Your Father. The Genial 
   Spirit, The Mind That Was A Power Out In the World, The Soul With Its 
   Noble And Intense Affections And Aspirations--These Made The Man That 
   Was Your Father. Therefore I Say With Truth That The Man, The 
   Imperishable Part, Has Gone Away With Him Who Loved humanity, And Who 
   Has Prepared a Better Place For Us Than This Earth Can Ever Be Under The 
   Most Favoring Circumstances. You Can Understand That The Body Is But The 
   Changing, Perishing Shadow. 
     
     
     
   "When You Compare The Poor, Disease-Shattered house In yonder Room, With 
   The Regal Spirit That Dwelt Within It, When You Compare That Prostrate 
   Form--Which, Like A Fallen Tree In the Forest, Is Yielding To The 
   Universal Law Of Change--With The Strong, Active, Intelligent Man That 
   Was Your Father, Do Not Your Very Senses Assure You That Your Father Has 
   Gone Away, And, As I Told Bertha, You Will Surely See Him Again? It May 
   Seem To You That What I Said About The Good-By Kiss Was But A Fiction To 
   Soothe The Child, But In my Belief It Was Not. Though We Know With 
   Certainty So Little Of The Detail Of The Life Beyond, We Have Two Good 
   Grounds On Which To Base Reasonable Conjecture. We Know Of God'S Love; 
   We Know Your Father'S Love; Now What Would Be Natural In view Of These 
   Two Facts? I Think We Can Manage To Keep Bertha From Seeing That Which 
   Is No Longer Her Father, And Thus Every Memory Of Him Will Be Pleasant. 
   We Will Leave Intact The Impression Which He Himself Made When He Acted 
   Consciously, For This Which Now Remains Is Not Himself At All." 
     
     
     
   Further Conversation Was Interrupted by The Arrival Of Dr. Orton; But 
   Haldane Saw That Amy Had Grasped at His Words As One Might Try To Catch 
   A Rope That Was Being Lowered to Him In some Otherwise Hopeless Abyss. 
     
     
     
   "I Feared that Such Might Be The End," Said The Doctor, Gloomily, On 
   Learning From Haldane The Events Of The Night; "It Frequently Is In 
   Constitutions Like His." Then He Went Up And Saw Mrs. Poland. 
     
     
     
   The Lady'S Condition Gave Him Much Anxiety, But He Kept It To Himself 
   Until They Were Alone. After Leaving Quieting Medicines For Her With 
   Amy, And Breaking Utterly Down In trying To Say A Few Words Of Comfort 
   To The Fatherless Girl, He Motioned to Haldane To Follow Him. 
     
     
     
   "Come With Me To The City," He Said, "And We Will Arrange For Such 
   Disposal Of The Remains As Is Best." 
     
     
     
   Having Informed amy Of The Nature Of His Errand, And Promising To 
   Telegraph Mrs. Arnot, Haldane Accompanied the Physician To The Business 
   Part Of Town. 
     
     
     
   "You Have Been A Godsend To Them," Said The Kind-Hearted old Doctor, 
   Blowing His Nose Furiously. "This Case Comes A Little Nearer Home Than 
   Any That Has Yet Occurred; But Then The Bottom Is Just Falling Out Of 
   Everything, And It Looks As If We Would All Go Before We Have A Frost. 
   It Seems To Me, Though, That I Can Stand Anything Rather Than See Amy 
   Go. She Is Engaged to A Nephew Of Mine--As Fine A Fellow As There Is In 
   Town, If I Do Say It, And I Love The Girl As If She Were My Own Child. 
   My Nephew Is Travelling In europe Now, And I Doubt If He Knows The 
   Danger Hanging Over The Girl. If Anything Happens To Her It Will About 
   Kill Him, For He Idolizes Her, And Well He May. I'M Dreadfully Anxious 
   About Them All. I Fear Most For Mrs. Poland'S Mind. She'S A New England 
   Lady, As I Suppose You Know--Wonderfully Gifted woman, Too Much Brain 
   Power For That Fragile Body Of Hers. Well, Perhaps You Did Not 
   Understand All That Was Said Last Night; But Mrs. Poland Has Always Been 
   A Great Reader, And She Has Been Carried away By The Materialistic 
   Philosophy That'S In fashion Nowadays. Queer, Isn'T It? And She 
   Two-Thirds Spirit Herself. Her Husband And My Best Friend Was As Genial 
   And Whole-Souled a Man As Ever Lived, Fond Of A Good Dinner, Fond Of A 
   Joke, And Fond Of His Family To Idolatry. His Wife Had Unbounded 
   Influence Over Him, Or Otherwise He Might Have Been A Little Fast; But 
   He Always Laughed at What He Called her 'Yankee Notions,' And Said He 
   Would Not Accept Her Philosophy Until She Became A Little More Material 
   Herself. Poland Was A Square, Successful Business Man, But I Fear He Did 
   Not Lay Up Much. He Was Too Open-Hearted and Free-Handed--A Typical 
   Southerner I Suppose You Would Say At The North, That Is, Those Of You 
   Who Don'T Think Of Us As All Slave-Drivers And Slave-Traders. I Expect 
   The North And South Will Have To Have A Good, Square, Stand-Up Fight 
   Before They Understand Each Other." 
     
     
     
   "God Forbid!" Ejaculated haldane. 
     
     
     
   "Well, I Don'T Think You And I Will Ever Quarrel. You May Call Us What 
   You Please If You Will Take Care Of Poland'S Family." 
     
     
     
   "I Have Already Learned to Have A Very Thorough Respect Both For Your 
   Head And Heart, Doctor Orton." 
     
     
     
   "I'M Considerably Worse Than They Average Down Here. But As I Was 
   Telling You, Mrs. Poland Was A New England Woman, And To Humor Her Her 
   Husband Employed such White Servants As Could Be Got In the City, And 
   Poor Trash They Were Most Of The Time. When The Fever Appeared they Left 
   Instantly. Poland Bought The Old Colored people Who Are There With The 
   Place, And Gave Them Their Freedom, And Only They Have Stood By Them. 
   What They Would Have Done Last Night If You Had Not Come, God Only 
   Knows. Poor Amy, Poor Amy!" Sighed the Old Doctor Tempestuously; "She'S 
   The Prettiest And Pluckiest Little Girl In the City. She'S Half 
   Frightened out Of Her Wits, I Can See That, And Yet Nothing But Force 
   Could Get Her Away. For My Nephew'S Sake And Her Own I Tried hard To 
   Induce Her To Go, But She Stands Her Ground Like A Soldier. What Is Best 
   Now I Hardly Know. Mrs. Poland Is So Utterly Prostrated that It Might 
   Cost Her Life To Move Her. Besides, They Have All Been So Terribly 
   Exposed to The Disease That They Might Be Taken With It On The Journey, 
   And To Have Them Go Wandering Off The Lord Knows Where At This Chaotic 
   Time Looks To Me About As Bad As Staying Where They Are, And I Can Look 
   After Them. But We'Ll See, We'Ll See." And In like Manner The Sorely 
   Troubled old Gentleman Talked rapidly On, Till They Reached the 
   Undertaker'S, Seemingly Finding a Relief In thus Unburdening His Heart 
   To One Of Whose Sympathy He Felt Sure, And Who Might Thus Be Led to Feel 
   A Deeper Interest In the Objects Of His Charge. 
     
     
     
   Even At That Time Of General Disaster Haldane'S Abundant Funds Enabled 
   Him To Secure Prompt Attention. It Was Decided that Mr. Poland'S Remains 
   Should Be Placed in a Receiving Vault Until Such Time As They Could Be 
   Removed to The Family Burying-Ground In another City, And Before The Day 
   Closed everything Had Been Attended to In the Manner Which Refined 
   Christian Feeling Would Dictate. 
     
     
     
   Before Parting With Haldane, Doctor Orton Had Given Him Careful 
   Directions What To Do In case He Recognized symptoms Of The Fever In any 
   Of The Family Or Himself. "Keep Amy And Bertha With Their Mother All You 
   Can," He Said; "Anything To Rouse The Poor Woman From That Stony Despair 
   Into Which She Seems To Have Fallen." 
     
     
     
   The Long Day At Length Came To An End. Haldane Of Necessity Had Been 
   Much Away, And He Welcomed the Cool And Quiet Evening; And Yet He Knew 
   That With The Shadow Of Night, Though So Grateful After The Glare And 
   Heat To Which He Had Been Subjected, The Fatal Pestilence Approached the 
   Nearer, As If To Strike A Deadlier Blow. As The Pioneer Forefathers Of 
   The City Had Shut Their Doors And Windows At Nightfall, Lest Their 
   Savage And Lurking Foes Should Send A Fatal Arrow From Some Dusky 
   Covert, So Now Again, With The Close Of The Day, All Doors And Windows 
   Must Be Shut Against A More Subtle And Remorseless Enemy, Whose Viewless 
   Shafts Sped with A Surer Aim In darkness. 
     
     
     
   Amy Had Spent Much Of The Day In unburdening Her Heart In a Long Letter 
   To Her Cousin Laura, In which In her Own Vivid Way She Portrayed the 
   Part Haldane Had Acted toward Them. She Had Also Written To Her Distant 
   And Unconscious Lover, And Feeling That It Might Be The Last Time, She 
   Had Poured out To Him A Passion That Was As Intense And Yet As Pure As 
   The Transparent Flame That We Sometimes See Issuing From The Heart Of 
   The Hard-Wood Maple, As We Sit Brooding Over Our Winter Fire. 
     
     
     
   "Come And Sit With Us, And As One Of Us," She Had Said To Haldane, And 
   So They Had All Gathered at The Bedside Of The Widow, Who Had Scarcely 
   Strength To Do More Than Fix Her Dark, Wistful Eyes On One And Another 
   Of The Group. She Was So Bewildered and Overwhelmed with Her Loss That 
   Her Mind Had Partially Suspended its Action. She Saw And Heard 
   Everything; She Remembered it All Afterward; But Now The Very Weight Of 
   The Blow Had So Stunned her That She Was Mercifully Saved from The Agony 
   Of Full Consciousness. 
     
     
     
   Little Bertha Climbed upon Haldane'S Lap And Pleaded for A Story. 
     
     
     
   "Yes, Bertie," He Said, "And I Think I Know A Story That You Would Like. 
   You Remember I Told You That Your Papa Had Gone Away With Jesus; Would 
   You Not Like To Hear A Story About This Good Friend Of Your Papa'S?" 
     
     
     
   "Yes, Yes, I Would. Do You Know Much About Him?" 
     
     
     
   "Quite A Good Deal, For He'S My Friend Too. I Know One True Story About 
   Him That I Often Like To Think Of. Listen, And I Will Tell It To You. 
   Jesus Is The God Who Made Us, And He Lives 'Way Up Above The Sky.' But 
   He Not Only Made Us, Bertie, But He Also Loves Us, And In order To Show 
   Us How He Loves Us He Is Always Coming To This World To Do Us Good; And 
   Once He Came And Lived here Just Like A Man, So That We Might All Be 
   Sure That He Cared for Us And Wanted to Make Us Good And Happy. Well, At 
   That Time When He Lived here In this World As A Man He Had Some True 
   Friends Who Loved him And Believed in him. At A Certain Time They Were 
   All Staying On The Shore Of A Sea, And One Evening Jesus Told His 
   Friends To Take A Little Boat And Go Over To The Other Side Of The Sea, 
   And He Would Meet Them There. Then Jesus, Who Wanted to Be Alone, Went 
   Up The Side Of The Mountain That Rose From The Water'S Edge. Then Night 
   Came And It Began To Grow Darker And Darker, And At Last It Was So Dark 
   That The Friends Of Jesus That Were In the Boat Could Only See A Very 
   Little Way. Then A Moaning, Sighing Wind Began To Rise, And The Poor Men 
   In The Boat Saw That A Storm Was Coming, And They Pulled hard With Their 
   Oars In hopes Of Getting Over On The Other Side Before The Storm Became 
   Very Bad; But By The Time They Reached the Very Middle Of The Sea, The 
   Wind Began To Blow Furiously, Just As You Have Seen It Blow When The 
   Trees Bent 'Way Over Toward The Ground, And Some Perhaps Were Broken 
   Down. A Strong Wind At Sea Makes The Water Rise Up In waves, And These 
   Waves Began To Beat Against The Boat, And Before Very Long Some Of The 
   Highest Ones Would Dash Into It. The Men Pulled with Their Oars With All 
   Their Might, But It Was Of No Use; The Wind Was Right Against Them, And 
   Though They Did Their Best Hour After Hour, They Still Could Get No 
   Nearer The Shore. How Sad And Full Of Danger Was Their Condition! The 
   Dark, Dark Night Was Above And Around Them, The Dark, Angry Waves 
   Dashing By And Over Them, The Cold, Black Depths Of Water Beneath Them, 
   And No Sound In their Ears But The Wild, Rushing Storm. What Do You 
   Think Became Of Them?" 
     
     
     
   "I'M Afraid They Were Drowned," Said Bertha, Looking Up With Eyes That 
   Were Full Of Fear And Trouble. 
     
     
     
   "Have You Forgotten Jesus?" 
     
     
     
   "But He'S 'Way Off On The Side Of The Mountain." 
     
     
     
   "He Is Never So Far From His Friends But That He Can See Them And Know 
   All About Them. He Saw These Friends In the Boat, For Jesus Can See In 
   The Darkness As Well As In the Light; And When The Night Grew Darkest, 
   And The Waves Were Highest, And His Friends Most Weary And Discouraged, 
   He Came To Them So That They Might Know That He Could Save Them, When 
   They Felt They Could Not Save Themselves. And He Came As No Other Help 
   Could Have Come--Walking Over The Very Waves That Threatened to Swallow 
   Up His Friends; And When He Was Near To Them He Called out, 'Be Of Good 
   Cheer, It Is I; Be Not Afraid.' Then He Went Right Up To The Boat And 
   Stepped into It Among His Friends. Oh! What A Happy Change His Coming 
   Made, For The Winds Ceased, The Waves Went Down, And In a Very Little 
   While The Boat Reached the Sea-Shore. The Bright Sun Rose Up, The 
   Darkness Fled away, And The Friends Of Jesus Were Safe. They Have Been 
   Safe Ever Since. Nothing Can Harm Jesus' Friends. He Takes Care Of Them 
   From Day To Day, From Year To Year, And From Age To Age. Whenever They 
   Are In trouble Or Pain Or Danger He Comes To Them As He Did To His 
   Friends In the Boat, And He Brings Them Safely Through It All. Don'T You 
   Think He Is A Good Friend To Have?" 
     
     
     
   "Isn'T I Too Little To Be His Friend?" 
     
     
     
   "No, Indeed; No One Ever Loved little Children As He Does. He Used to 
   Take Them In his Arms And Bless Them, And He Said, 'Suffer Them To Come 
   To Me'; And Where He Lives He Has Everything Beautiful To Make Little 
   Children Happy." 
     
     
     
   "And You Say Papa Is With Him?" 
     
     
     
   "Yes, Papa Is With Him." 
     
     
     
   "Why Can'T We All Go To Him Now?" 
     
     
     
   "As Soon As He Is Ready For Us He Will Come For Us." 
     
     
     
   "I Wish He Was Ready For Mamma, Amy, And Me Now, And Then We Could All 
   Be Together. It'S So Lonely Without Papa. Oh! I'M So Tired," She Added 
   After A Few Moments, And A Little Later Her Head Dropped against 
   Haldane'S Breast, And She Was Asleep. 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Haldane," Said Amy In a Low, Agitated voice, "Have You Embodied 
   Your Faith In that Story To Bertha?" 
     
     
     
   "Yes, Miss Amy." 
     
     
     
   "Why Do You Think"--And She Hesitated. "How Do You Know," She Began 
   Again, "That Any Such Being as Jesus Exists And Comes To Any One'S 
   Help?" 
     
     
     
   "Granting That The Story I Have Told You Is True, How Did His Disciples 
   Know That He Came To Their Help? Did Not The Hushed winds Prove It? Did 
   Not The Quieted waters Prove It? Did Not His Presence With Them Assure 
   Them Of It? By Equal Proof I Know That He Can And Will Come To The Aid 
   Of Those Who Look To Him For Aid. I Have Passed through Darker Nights 
   And Wilder Storms Than Ever Lowered over The Sea Of Galilee, And I Know 
   By Simple, Practical, Happy Experience That Jesus Christ, Through His 
   All-Pervading Spirit, Has Come To Me In my Utter Extremity Again And 
   Again, And That I Have The Same As Felt His Rescuing Hand. Not That My 
   Trials And Temptations Have Been Greater Than Those Of Many Others, But 
   I Have Been Weaker Than Others, And I Have Often Been Conscious Of His 
   Sustaining Power When Otherwise I Would Have Sunk Beneath My Burden. 
   This Is Not A Theory, Miss Amy, Nor The Infatuation Of A Few Ignorant 
   People. It Is The Downright Experience Of Multitudes In every Walk Of 
   Life, And, On Merely Scientific Grounds, Is Worth As Much As Any Other 
   Experience. This Story Of Jesus Gains The Sympathy Of Little Bertha; It 
   Also Commands The Reverent Belief Of The Most Gifted and Cultivated 
   Minds In the World." 
     
     
     
   "Oh, That I Could Believe All This; But There Is So Much Mystery, So 
   Much That Is Dark." Then She Glanced at Her Mother, Who Had Turned away 
   Her Face And Seemed to Be Sleeping, And She Asked: "If Christ Is So 
   Strong To Help And Save, Why Is He Not Strong To Prevent Evil? Why Is 
   There A Cry Of Agony Going Up From This Stricken City? Why Must Father 
   Die Who Was Everything To Us? Why Must Mother Suffer So? Why Am I So 
   Shadowed by An Awful Fear? Life Means So Much To Me. I Love It," She 
   Continued in low Yet Passionate Tones. "I Love The Song Of Birds, The 
   Breath Of Flowers, The Sunlight, And Every Beautiful Thing. I Love 
   Sensation. I Am Not One Who Finds A Tame And Tranquil Pleasure In the 
   Things I Like Or In the Friends I Love. My Joys Thrill Every Nerve And 
   Fibre Of My Being. I Cling To Them, I Cannot Give Them Up. A Few Days 
   Ago Life Was As Full Of Rich Promise To Me As Our Tropical Spring. It Is 
   Still, Though I Will Never Cease To Feel The Pain Of This Great Sorrow, 
   And Yet This Horrible Pit Of Death, Corruption, And Nothingness Yawns At 
   My Very Feet. Mr. Haldane," She Said In a Still Lower And More 
   Shuddering Tone, "I Have A Terrible Presentiment That I Shall Perish 
   With This Loathsome Disease. I May Seem To You, Who Are So Quiet And 
   Brave, Very Weak And Cowardly; But I Shrink From Death With A Dread 
   Which You Cannot Understand And Which No Language Can Express. It Is 
   Repugnant To Every Instinct Of My Being, And I Can Think Of It Only With 
   Unutterable Loathing. If I Were Old And Feeble, If I Had Tasted all The 
   Joys Of Life, I Might Submit, But Not Now, Not Now. I Feel With Father 
   That It Is Fiendish Cruelty To Give One Such An Intense Love Of Life And 
   Then Wrench It Away; And, Passionately As I Love Life, There Is One Far 
   More Dear. There Is That In your Nature Which Has So Won My Confidence 
   That I Can Reveal To You My Whole Heart. Mr. Haldane, I Love One Who Is 
   Like You, Manly And Noble, And Dearly As I Prize Life, I Think I Could 
   Give It Away In slow Torture For His Sake, If Required. How Often My 
   Heart Has Thrilled to See His Eyes Kindle With His Foolish Admiration, 
   The Infatuation Of Love Which Makes Its Object Beautiful At Least To The 
   Lover. And Now To Think That He Does Not Know What I Suffer And Fear, To 
   Think That I May Never See Him Again, To Think That When He Returns I 
   May Be A Hideous Mass Of Corruption That He Cannot Even Approach. Out 
   Upon The Phrases 'Beneficent Nature,' And 'Natural Law.' Laws Which 
   Permit Such Things Are Must Unnatural, And To Endow One With Such A Love 
   Of Life, Such Boundless Capabilities Of Enjoying Life, And Then At The 
   Supreme Moment When The Loss Will Be Most Bitterly Felt To Snatch It 
   Away, Looks To Me More Like The Work Of Devilish Ingenuity Than Of A 
   'Beneficent Nature.' I Feel With Father, It Is Fiendish Cruelty." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Bowed his Head Among Bertha'S Curls To Hide The Tears That Would 
   Come At This Desperate Cry Of Distress; But Amy'S Eyes Were Hard And 
   Dry, And Had The Agonized look Which Might Have Been Their Expression 
   Had She Been Enduring Physical Torture. 
     
     
     
   "Miss Amy," He Said Brokenly After A Moment, "You Forget That Your 
   Father Said, 'If This Life Is All, It Is Fiendishly Cruel To Tear Us 
   From That Which We Have Learned to Love So Dearly,' And I Agree With 
   Him. But This Life Is Not All; The Belief That Human Life Ends At Death 
   Is Revolting To Reason, Conscience, And Every Sense Of Justice. If This 
   Were True The Basest Villain Could Escape All The Consequences Of His 
   Evil In a Moment, And You Who Are So Innocent, So Exquisite In your 
   Spiritual Organization, So Brave And Noble That You Can Face This Awful 
   Fear In your Devotion To Those You Love--You By Ceasing To Breathe 
   Merely Would Sink To Precisely The Same Level And Be No Different From 
   The Lifeless Clay Of The Villain. Such Monstrous Injustice Is 
   Impossible; It Outrages Every Instinct Of Justice, Every Particle Of 
   Reason That I Have. 
     
     
     
   "Miss Amy, Don'T You See That You Are Like The Disciples In the Boat Out 
   In The Midst Of The Sea? The Night Is Dark Above You, The Storm Is Wild 
   Around You, The Waves Are Dashing Over You, The Little Boat Is Frail, 
   And There Are Such Cold, Dark Depths Beneath It. But We Can'T Help These 
   Things. We Can'T Explain The Awful Mystery Of Evil And Suffering; Sooner 
   Or Later Every Human Life Becomes Enveloped in darkness, Storm, And 
   Danger. That Wave-Tossed boat In the Midst Of The Sea Is An Emblem Of 
   The Commonest Human Experience. On The Wide Sea Of Life, Numberless 
   Little Barks Are At This Moment At The Point Of Foundering. Few Are So 
   Richly Freighted as Yours, But The Same Unknown Depths Are Beneath Each. 
   But, Miss Amy, I Pray You Remember The Whole Of This Suggestive Bible 
   Story. Those Imperilled disciples Were Watched by A Loving, Powerful 
   Friend. He Came To Their Aid, Making The Very Waves That Threatened to 
   Engulf The Pathway Of His Rescuing Love. He Saved those Old-Time 
   Friends. They Are Living To-Day, They Will Live Forever. I Can'T Explain 
   The Dark And Terrible Things Of Which This World Is Full, I Cannot 
   Explain The Awful Mystery Of Evil In any Of Its Forms. I Know The 
   Pestilence Is All Around Us; I Know It Seems To Threaten Your Precious, 
   Beautiful Life. I Recognize The Fact, As I Also Remember The Fact Of The 
   Darkness And Storm Around The Little Boat. But I Also Know With Absolute 
   Certainty That There Is One Who Can Come To Your Rescue, Whose Province 
   It Is To Give Life, Deathless Life, Life More Rich And Full Of Thrilling 
   Happiness Than You Have Ever Dreamed of, Even With Your Vivid 
   Imagination." 
     
     
     
   "How, How Can You Know This? What _Proof_ Can You Give Me?" She 
   Asked; And No Poor Creature, Whose Life Was Indeed at Stake, Ever Bent 
   Forward More Eagerly To Catch The Sentence Of Life Or Death, Than Did 
   Amy Poland The Coming answer. 
     
     
     
   "I Know It," He Replied more Calmly, "On The Strongest Possible Grounds 
   Of Evidence--My Own Experience, The Experience Of Mrs. Arnot, Who Is 
   Sincerity Itself, And The Experience Of Multitudes Of Others. Believers 
   In Jesus Christ Have Been Verifying His Promises In every Age, And In 
   Every Possible Emergency And Condition Of Life, And If Their Testimony 
   Is Refused, Human Consciousness Is No Longer A Basis Of Knowledge. No 
   One Ever Had A Better Friend Than Mrs. Arnot Has Been To Me; She Has 
   Been The Means Of Saving Me From Disgrace, Shame, And Everything That 
   Was Base, And I Love Her With A Gratitude That Is Beyond Words, And Yet 
   I Am Not So Conscious Of Her Practical Help And Friendship As That Of 
   The Divine Man Who Has Been My Patient Unwavering Friend In my Long, 
   Hard Struggle." 
     
     
     
   Under His Words, The Hard, Dry Despair Of Amy Had Given Way To Gentler 
   Feelings, Which Found Expression In low, Piteous Sobbing. 
     
     
     
   "Oh, When Will He Come To Me?" She Asked, "For I Cannot Doubt After Such 
   Words." 
     
     
     
   "When You Most Need him, Miss Amy. It Is Your Privilege To Ask His 
   Comforting and Sustaining Presence Now; But He Will Come When He Sees 
   That You Most Need him." 
     
     
     
   "If Ever Poor Creatures Needed such A Friend As You Have Described, We 
   Need him Now," Faltered mrs. Poland, Turning Her Face Toward Them And 
   Then They Knew That She Had Heard All. 
     
     
     
   Amy Sprang To Her Embrace, Exclaiming, "Mother, Is It Possible That We 
   Can Find Such A Friend In our Extremity?" 
     
     
     
   "Amy, I Am Bewildered, I Am Overwhelmed." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Carried little Bertha To Her Crib And Covered her With An 
   Afghan. Then Coming To The Lady'S Side He Took Her Hand And Said Gently, 
   And Yet With That Quiet Firmness Which Does Much To Produce Conviction: 
   "Mrs. Poland, Before Leaving Your Husband To His Quiet Sleep We Read 
   Words Which Jesus Christ Once Spoke To A Despairing, Grief-Stricken 
   Woman. Take Them Now As If Spoken To You. 'Jesus Said Unto Her, I Am The 
   Resurrection And The Life: He That Believeth In me, Though He Were Dead, 
   Yet Shall He Live; And Whosoever Liveth And Believeth In me Shall Never 
   Die.' As Your Husband Said To You, You Will All Surely Meet Again." 
     
     
     
   Then He Lifted her Hand To His Lips In a Caress That Was Full Of 
   Sympathy And Respect, And Silently Left The Room. 
   
   
   
   Chapter LII (A Man Versus A Connoisseur) 
   Amy'S Sad Presentiment Was Almost Verified. She Was Very Ill, And For 
   Hours Of Painful Uncertainty Haldane Watched over Her And Administered 
   The Remedies Which Dr. Orton Left; And Indeed the Doctor Himself Was 
   Never Absent Very Long, For His Heart Was Bound Up In the Girl. At Last, 
   After A Wavering Poise, The Scale Turned in favor Of Life, And She Began 
   To Slowly Revive. 
     
     
     
   Poor Mrs. Poland Was So Weak That She Could Not Raise Her Head Or Hand, 
   But, With Her Wistful, Pathetic Eyes, Followed every Motion, For She 
   Insisted on Having amy In the Same Room With Herself. Aunt Saba, The Old 
   Negress, To Whom Mr. Poland Had Given Her Freedom, Continued a Faithful 
   Assistant. Bound To Her Mistress By The Stronger Chain Of Gratitude And 
   Affection, She Served with Fidelity In every Way Possible To Her; And 
   She And Her Husband Were So Old And Humble That Death Seemingly Had 
   Forgotten Them. 
     
     
     
   Before Amy Was Stricken Down With The Fever The Look Of Unutterable 
   Dread And Anxiety That Was So Painful To Witness Passed away, And Gave 
   Place To An Expression Of Quiet Serenity. 
     
     
     
   "I Need no Further Argument," She Had Said To Haldane; "Christ Has Come 
   Across The Waves Of My Trouble. I Am As Sure Of It As I Am Sure That You 
   Came To My Aid. I Do Not Know Whether Mother Or Bertha Or I Will 
   Survive, But I Believe That God'S Love Is As Great As His Power, And 
   That In some Way And At Some Time All Will Come Out For The Best. I Have 
   Written To My Friend Abroad And To Auntie Arnot All About It, And Now I 
   Am Simply Waiting. O, Mr. Haldane, I Am So Happy To Tell You," She Had 
   Added, "That I Think Mother Is Accepting The Same Faith, Slowly And In 
   Accordance With Her Nature, But Surely Nevertheless. I Am Like Father, 
   Quick And Intense In my Feelings. I Feel That Which Is False Or That 
   Which Is True, Rather Than Reason It Out As Mother Does." 
     
     
     
   Aunt Saba And Her Husband Managed to Take Care Of Bertha And Keep Her 
   Mind Occupied; But Before Amy'S Convalescence Had Proceeded very Far The 
   Little Girl Was Suddenly Prostrated by A Most Violent Attack Of The 
   Disease, And She Withered before The Hot Fever Like A Fragile Flower In 
   A Simoom. Haldane Went Hastily For Dr. Orton, But He Gave Scarcely A 
   Hope From The First. 
     
     
     
   During The Night Following The Day On Which She Had Been Stricken Down A 
   Strange Event Occurred. [Footnote: It Is Stated on High Medical Authority 
   That "All Patients Suffer More During Thunder-Showers," And An Instance 
   Is Given Of A Physician Who Was Suffering From This Fever, And Who Was 
   Killed as Instantly, By Vivid Flash And Loud Report, As If He Had Been 
   Struck By The Lightning.] The Sultry Heat Had Been Followed by A 
   Tropical Thunder-Storm, Which Had Gathered in the Darkness, And Often 
   Gave To The Midnight A Momentary And Brighter Glare Than That Of The 
   Previous Noon. The Child Would Start As The Flashes Grew More Intense, 
   For They Seemed to Distress Her Very Much. 
     
     
     
   As Haldane Was Lifting Her To Give Her A Drink He Said: 
     
     
     
   "Perhaps Bertie Will See Papa Very Soon." 
     
     
     
   Hearing The Word "Papa," The Child Forgot Her Pain For A Moment And 
   Smiled. At That Instant There Was A Blinding Flash Of Lightning, And The 
   Appalling Thunder-Peal Followed without Any Interval. 
     
     
     
   Both Mrs. Poland And Amy Gave A Faint And Involuntary Cry Of Alarm, But 
   Haldane'S Eyes Were Fixed on The Little Smiling Face That He Held So 
   Near To His Own. The Smile Did Not Fade. The Old, Perplexed expression 
   Of Pain Did Not Come Back, And After A Moment He Said Quietly And Very 
   Gently: 
     
     
     
   "Bertie Is With Her Father;" And He Lifted her Up And Carried her To Her 
   Mother, And Then To Amy, That They Might See The Beautiful And Smiling 
   Expression Of The Child'S Face. 
     
     
     
   But Their Eyes Were So Blinded by Tears That They Could Scarcely See The 
   Face From Which All Trace Of Suffering Had Been Banished almost As Truly 
   As From The Innocent Spirit. 
     
     
     
   Having Laid Her Back In the Crib, And Arranged the Little Form As If 
   Sleeping, He Carried the Crib, With Aunt Saba'S Help, To The Room Where 
   Mr. Poland Had Died. Then He Told The Old Negress To Return And Remain 
   With Her Mistress, And That He Would Watch Over The Body Till Morning. 
     
     
     
   That Quiet Watch By The Pure Little Child, With A Trace Of Heaven'S Own 
   Beauty On Her Face, Was To Haldane Like The Watch Of The Shepherds On 
   The Hillside Near Bethlehem. At Times, In the Deep Hush That Followed 
   The Storm, He Was Almost Sure That He Heard, Faint And Far Away, Angelic 
   Minstrelsy And Song. 
     
     
     
   Haldane'S Unusually Healthful And Vigorous Constitution Had Thus Far 
   Resisted the Infection, But After Returning From The Sad Duty Of Laying 
   Little Bertha'S Remains By Those Of Her Father, He Felt The Peculiar 
   Languor Which Is So Often The Precursor Of The Chill And Subsequent 
   Fever. Although He Had Scarcely Hoped to Escape An Attack, He Had Never 
   Before Realized how Disastrous It Would Be To The Very Ones He Had Come 
   To Serve. Who Was There To Take Care Of Him? Mrs. Poland Was Almost 
   Helpless From Nervous Prostration. Amy Required absolute Quiet To 
   Prevent The More Fatal Relapse, Which Is Almost Certain To Follow 
   Exertion Made Too Early In convalescence. He Knew That If He Were In the 
   House She Would Make The Attempt To Do Something For Him, And He Also 
   Knew It Would Be At The Risk Of Her Life. Old Aunt Saba Was Worn Out In 
   Her Attendance On Bertha, Amy, And Mrs. Poland. Her Husband, And A 
   Stranger Who Had Been At Last Secured to Assist Him, Were Required in 
   The Household Duties. 
     
     
     
   He Took His Decision Promptly, For He Felt That He Had But Brief Time In 
   Which To Act. Going To Mrs. Poland'S Room, He Said To Her And Amy: 
     
     
     
   "I Am Glad To Find You Both So Brave And Doing as Well As You Are On 
   This Sad, Sad Day. I Do Not Think You Will Take The Disease, Mrs. 
   Poland; And You, Miss Amy, Only Need perfect Quiet In order To Get Well. 
   Please Remember, As A Great Favor To Me, How Vitally Important Is The 
   Tranquillity Of Mind And Body That I Am Ever Preaching To You, And Don'T 
   Do That Which Fatigues You In the Slightest Degree, Till Conscious Of 
   Your Old Strength. And Now I Am Going away For A Little While. This Is A 
   Time When Every Man Should Be At His Post Of Duty. I Am Needed 
   Elsewhere, For I Know Of A Case That Requires Immediate Attention. 
   Please Do Not Remonstrate," He Said, As They Began To Urge That He 
   Should Take Some Rest; "My Mission Here Has Ended for The Present And My 
   Duty Is Elsewhere. We Won'T Say Good-By, For I Shall Not Be Far Away;" 
   And Although He Was Almost Faint From Weakness, His Bearing Was So 
   Decided and Strong, And He Appeared so Bent On Departure, That They Felt 
   That It Would Hardly Be In good Taste To Say Anything More. 
     
     
     
   "We Are Almost Beginning To Feel That Mr. Haldane Belongs To Us," Said 
   Amy To Her Mother Afterward, "And Forget That He May Be Prompted by As 
   Strong A Sense Of Duty To Others." 
     
     
     
   As Haldane Was Leaving The House Dr. Orton Drove To The Door. Before He 
   Could Alight The Young Man Climbed into His Buggy With Almost Desperate 
   Haste. 
     
     
     
   "Drive Toward The City," He Said So Decisively That The Doctor Obeyed. 
     
     
     
   "What'S The Matter, Haldane? Speak, Man; You Look Sick." 
     
     
     
   "Take Me To The City Hospital. I Am Sick." 
     
     
     
   "I Shall Take You Right Back To Mrs. Poland'S," Said The Doctor, Pulling 
   Up. 
     
     
     
   Haldane Laid His Hands On The Reins, And Then Explained his Fears And 
   The Motive For His Action. 
     
     
     
   "God Bless You, Old Fellow; But You Are Right. Any Effort Now Would Cost 
   Amy Her Life, And She Would Make It If You Were There. But You Are Not 
   Going To The Hospital." 
     
     
     
   Dr. Orton'S Intimate Acquaintance With The City Enabled him To Place 
   Haldane In a Comfortable Room Near His Own House, Where He Could Give 
   Constant Supervision To His Case. He Also Procured a Good Nurse, Whose 
   Sole Duty Was To Take Care Of The Young Man. To The Anxious Questioning 
   Of Mrs. Poland And Amy From Time To Time, The Doctor Maintained the 
   Fiction, Saying That Haldane Was Watching a Very Important Case Under 
   His Care; "And You Know His Way," Added the Old Gentleman, Rubbing His 
   Hands, As If He Were Enjoying Something Internally, "He Won'T Leave A 
   Case Till I Say It'S Safe, Even To Visit You, Of Whom He Speaks Every 
   Chance He Gets;" And Thus The Two Ladies In their Feeble State Were 
   Saved all Anxiety. 
     
     
     
   They At Length Learned of The Merciful Ruse That Had Been Played upon 
   Them By The Appearance Of Their Friend At Their Door In dr. Orton'S 
   Buggy. As The Old Physician Helped his Patient, Who Was Still Rather 
   Weak, Up The Steps, He Said With His Hearty Laugh: 
     
     
     
   "Haldane Has Watched over That Case, That He And I Told You Of, Long 
   Enough. We Now Turn The Case Over To You, Miss Amy. But All He Requires 
   Is Good Living, And I'Ll Trust To You For That. He'S A Trump, If He Is A 
   Yankee. But Drat Him, I Thought He'D Spoil The Joke By Dying, At One 
   Time." 
     
     
     
   The Sentiments That People Like Mrs. Poland And Her Daughter, Mrs. 
   Arnot, And Laura, Would Naturally Entertain Toward One Who Had Served 
   Them As Haldane Had Done, And At Such Risk To Himself, Can Be Better 
   Imagined than Portrayed. They Looked and Felt Infinitely More Than They 
   Were Ever Permitted to Say, For Any Expression Of Obligation Was 
   Evidently Painful To Him. 
     
     
     
   He Speedily Gained his Old Vigor, And Before The Autumn Frosts Put An 
   End To The Epidemic, Was Able To Render Dr. Orton Much Valuable 
   Assistance. 
     
     
     
   Amy Became More Truly His Sister Than Ever His Own Had Been To Him. Her 
   Quick Intuition Soon Discovered his Secret--Even The Changing 
   Expression Of His Eyes At The Mention Of Laura'S Name Would Have 
   Revealed it To Her--But He Would Not Let Her Speak On The Subject. "She 
   Belongs To Another," He Said, "And Although To Me She Is The Most 
   Beautiful And Attractive Woman In the World, It Must Be My Lifelong 
   Effort Not To Think Of Her." 
     
     
     
   His Parting From Mrs. Poland And Amy Tested his Self-Control Severely. 
   In Accordance With Her Impulsive Nature, Amy Put Her Arms About His Neck 
   As She Said Brokenly: 
     
     
     
   "You Were Indeed god'S Messenger To Us, And You Brought Us Life. As 
   Father Said, We Shall All Meet Again." 
     
     
     
   On His Return, Mrs. Arnot'S Greeting Was That Of A Mother; But There 
   Were Traces Of Constraint In laura'S Manner. When She First Met Him She 
   Took His Hand In a Strong, Warm Pressure, And Said, With Tears In her 
   Eyes: 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Haldane, I Thank You For Your Kindness To Amy And Auntie As 
   Sincerely As If It Had All Been Rendered to Me Alone." 
     
     
     
   But After This First Expression Of Natural Feeling, Haldane Was Almost 
   Tempted to Believe That She Shunned meeting His Eyes, Avoided speaking 
   To Him, And Even Tried to Escape From His Society, By Taking Mr. 
   Beaumont'S Arm And Strolling Off To Some Other Apartment, When He Was 
   Calling On Mrs. Arnot. And Yet If This Were True, He Was Also Made To 
   Feel That It Resulted from No Lack Of Friendliness Or Esteem On Her 
   Part. 
     
     
     
   "She Fears That My Old-Time Passion May Revive, And She Would Teach Me 
   To Put A Watch At The Entrance Of Its Sepulchre," He At Length 
   Concluded; "She Little Thinks That My Love, So Far From Being Dead, Is A 
   Chained giant That Costs Me Hourly Vigilance To Hold In lifelong 
   Imprisonment." 
     
     
     
   But Laura Understood Him Much Better Than He Did Her. Her Manner Was The 
   Result Of A Straightforward Effort To Be Honest. Of Her Own Free Will, 
   And Without Even The Slightest Effort On The Part Of Her Uncle And Aunt 
   To Incline Her Toward The Wealthy And Distinguished mr. Beaumont, She 
   Had Accepted all His Attentions, And Had Accepted the Man Himself. In 
   The World'S Estimation She Would Not Have The Slightest Ground To Find 
   Fault With Him, For, From The First, Both In conduct And Manner, He Had 
   Been Irreproachable. 
     
     
     
   When The Telegram Which Announced mr. Poland'S Death Was Received, He 
   Tried to Comfort Her By Words That Were So Peculiarly Elegant And 
   Sombre, That, In spite Of Laura'S Wishes To Think Otherwise, They Struck 
   Her Like An Elegiac Address That Had Been Carefully Prearranged and 
   Studied; And When The Tidings Of Poor Little Bertha'S Death Came, It 
   Would Occur To Laura That Mr. Beaumont Had Thought His First Little 
   Address So Perfect That He Could Do No Better Than To Repeat It, As One 
   Might Use An Appropriate Burial Service On All Occasions. He Meant To Be 
   Kind And Considerate. He Was "Ready To Do Anything In his Power," As He 
   Often Said. But What Was In his Power? As Telegrams And Letters Came, 
   Telling Of Death, Of Desperate Illness, And Uncertain Life, Of Death 
   Again, Of Manly Help, Of Woman-Like Self-Sacrifice In the Same Man, Her 
   Heart Began To Beat In quick, Short, Passionate Throbs. Bat It Would 
   Seem That Nothing Could Ever Disturb The Even Rhythm Of Beaumont'S 
   Pulse. He Tried to Show His Sympathy By Turning His Mind To All That Was 
   Mournful And Sombre In art And Literature. One Day He Brought To Her 
   From New York What He Declared to Be The Finest Arrangement Of Dirge 
   Music For The Piano Extant, And She Quite Surprised him By Declaring 
   With Sudden Passion That She Could Not And Would Not Play A Note Of It. 
     
     
     
   In Her Deep Sorrow And Deeper Anxiety, In her Strange And Miserable 
   Unrest, Which Had Its Hidden Root In a Cause Not Yet Understood, She 
   Turned to Him Again And Again For Sympathy, And He Gave Her Abundant 
   Opportunity To Seek It, For Laura Was The Most Beautiful Object He Had 
   Ever Seen; And Therefore, To Feast His Eye And Gratify His Ear, He Spent 
   Much Of His Time With Her; So Much, Indeed, That She Often Grew Drearily 
   Weary Of Him. But No Matter When Or How Often She Would Look Into His 
   Face For Quick, Heartfelt Appreciation, She Saw With Instinctive 
   Certainty That, More Than Lover, More Than Friend, And Eventually, More 
   Than Husband, He Was, And Ever Would Be, A Connoisseur. When She Smiled 
   He Was Admiring Her, When She Wept He Was Also Admiring Her. Whatever 
   She Did Or Said Was Constantly Being Looked at And Studied from An 
   Aesthetic Standpoint By This Man, Whose Fastidious Taste She Had Thus 
   Far Satisfied. More Than Once She Had Found Herself Asking: "Suppose I 
   Should Lose My Beauty, What Would He Do?" And The Instinctive Answer Of 
   Her Heart Was: "He Would Honorably Try To Keep All His Pledges, But 
   Would Look The Other Way." 
     
     
     
   Before She Was Aware Of It, She Had Begun To Compare Her Affianced with 
   Haldane, And She Found That The One Was Like A Goblet Of Sweet, Rich 
   Wine, That Was Already Nearly Exhausted and Cloying To Her Taste; The 
   Other Was Like A Mountain Spring, Whose Waters Are Pure, Ever New, 
   Unfailing, Prodigally Abundant, Inspiring Yet Slaking Thirst. 
     
     
     
   But She Soon Saw Whither Such Comparisons Were Leading Her, And 
   Recognized her Danger And Her Duty. She Had Plighted her Faith To 
   Another, And He Had Given Her No Good Reason To Break That Faith. Laura 
   Had A Conscience, And She As Resolutely Set To Work To Shut Out Haldane 
   From Her Heart, As He, Poor Man, Had Tried to Exclude Her Image, And 
   From Very Much The Same Cause. But The Heart Is A Wayward Organ And Is 
   Often At Sword'S-Point With Both Will And Conscience, And Frequently, In 
   Spite Of All That She Could Do, It Would Array Haldane On The One Side 
   And Beaumont On The Other, And So It Would Eventually Come To Be, The 
   Man Who Loved her, _Versus_ The Connoisseur Who Admired her, But Whose 
   Absorbing Passion For Himself Left No Place For Any Other Strong 
   Feeling. 
   
   
   
   Chapter LIII (Exit Of Laura'S First Knight) 
   Haldane Was Given But Little Time For Quiet Study, For, Before The Year 
   Closed, Tidings Came From His Mother, Who Was Then In italy, That She 
   Was Ill And Wished to See Him. Poor Mrs. Haldane Had At Last Begun To 
   Understand Her Son'S Character Better, And To Realize That He Would 
   Retrieve The Past. She Also Reproached herself That She Had Not Been 
   More Sympathetic And Helpful To Him, And Was Not A Little Jealous That 
   He Should Have Found Better And More Appreciative Friends Than Herself. 
   And, At Last, When She Was Taken Ill, She Longed to See Him, And He Lost 
   Not A Moment In reaching Her Side. 
     
     
     
   Her Illness, However, Did Not Prove Very Serious, And She Improved 
   Rapidly After A Young Gentleman Appeared who Was So Refined in his 
   Manners, So Considerate And Deferential In his Bearing Toward Her That 
   She Could Scarcely Believe That He Was The Same With The Wild, Wretched 
   Youth Who Had Been In jail, And, What Was Almost As Bad, Who Had Worked 
   In A Mill. 
     
     
     
   Haldane Made The Most Of His Opportunities In seeing What Was Beautiful 
   In Nature And Art While In the Old World, But His Thoughts Turned with 
   Increasing Frequency To His Own Land--Not Only Because It Contained the 
   Friends He Loved so Well, But Also Because Events Were Now Rapidly 
   Culminating For That Great Struggle Between The Two Jarring Sections 
   That Will Eventually Form A Better And Closer Union On The Basis Of A 
   Mutual Respect, And A Better And Truer Knowledge Of Each Other. 
     
     
     
   When Mrs. Haldane Saw That Her Son Was Determined to Take Part In the 
   Conflict, He Began To Seem To Her More Like His Old Unreasonable Self. 
   She Feebly Remonstrated as A Matter Of Course, And Proved to Her Own 
   Satisfaction That It Was Utter Folly For A Young Man Who Had The 
   Enjoyment Of Such Large Wealth As Her Son To Risk The Loss Of Everything 
   In The Hardships And Dangers Of War. He Was As Kind And Considerate As 
   Possible, But She Saw From The Old And Well-Remembered expression Of His 
   Eyes That He Would Carry Out His Own Will Nevertheless, And Therefore 
   She And His Sisters Reluctantly Returned with Him. 
     
     
     
   Having Safely Installed them In their Old Home, And Proved by The Aid Of 
   Dr. Marks And Some Other Leading Citizens Of His Native City That They 
   Had No Further Occasion To Seclude Themselves From The World, He 
   Returned to Hillaton To Aid In organizing a Regiment That Was Being 
   Recruited there, And In which Mr. Ivison Had Assured him Of A 
   Commission. By Means Of The Acquaintances He Had Made Through His Old 
   Mission Class, He Was Able To Secure Enlistments Rapidly, And Although 
   Much Of The Material That He Brought In was Unpromising In its First 
   Appearance, He Seemed to Have The Faculty Of Transforming The Slouching 
   Dilapidated fellows Into Soldiers, And It Passed into General Remark 
   That "Haldane'S Company Was The Roughest To Start With And The Best 
   Disciplined and Most Soldierly Of Them All When Ordered to The Seat Of 
   War." 
     
     
     
   The Colonelcy Of The Regiment Was Given To Mr. Beaumont, Not Only On 
   Account Of His Position, But Also Because Of His Large Liberality In 
   Fitting It Out. He Took A Vast Interest In the Aesthetic Features Of Its 
   Equipment, Style Of Uniform, And Like Matters, And He Did Most Excellent 
   Service In insisting On Neatness, Good Care Of Weapons, And A 
   Soldier-Like Bearing From The First. 
     
     
     
   While Active In this Work He Rose Again In laura'S Esteem, For He Seemed 
   More Manly And Energetic Than He Had Shown Himself To Be Before; And 
   What Was Still More In his Favor, He Had Less Time For The Indulgence Of 
   His Taste As A Connoisseur With Her Fair But Often Weary Face As The 
   Object Of Contemplation. 
     
     
     
   She, With Many Others, Visited the Drill-Ground Almost Daily, And When 
   She Saw The Tall And Graceful Form Of Mr. Beaumont Issuing From The 
   Colonel'S Tent, When She Saw Him Mount His Superb White Horse, Which He 
   Managed with Perfect Skill, When She Saw The Sun Glinting On His Elegant 
   Sword And Gold Epaulets, And Heard His Sonorous Orders To The Men, She 
   Almost Felt That All Hillaton Was Right, And That She Had Reason To Be 
   Proud Of Him, And To Be As Happy As The Envious Belles Of The City 
   Deemed her To Be. But In spite Of Herself, Her Eyes Would Wander From 
   The Central Figure To Plain Captain Haldane, Who, Ignoring The Admiring 
   Throng, Was Giving His Whole Attention To His Duty. 
     
     
     
   Before She Was Aware, The Thought Began To Creep Into Her Mind, However, 
   That To One Man These Scenes Were Military Pageants, And To The Other 
   They Meant Stern And Uncompromising War. 
     
     
     
   This Impression Had Speedy Confirmation, For One Evening When Both Mr. 
   Beaumont And Haldane Happened to Be Present, Mrs. Arnot Remarked in 
   Effect That Her Heart Misgive Her When She Looked into The Future, And 
   That The Prospect Of A Bloody War Between People Of One Race And Faith 
   Was Simply Horrible. 
     
     
     
   "It Will Not Be Very Bloody," Remarked mr. Beaumont, Lightly. "After 
   Things Have Gone About So Far The Politicians On Both Sides Will Step In 
   And Patch Up A Compromise. Our Policy At The North Is To Make An 
   Imposing Demonstration. This Will Have The Effect Of Bringing The 
   Fire-Eaters To Their Senses, And If This Won'T Answer We Must Get Enough 
   Men Together To Walk Right Over The South, And End The Nonsense At Once. 
   I Have Travelled through The South, And Know That It Can Be Done." 
     
     
     
   "Pardon Me, Colonel," Said Haldane, "But Since We Are Not On The 
   Drill-Ground I Have A Right To Differ With You. I Anticipate A Very 
   Bloody, And, Perhaps, A Long War. I Have Not Seen So Much Of The South, 
   But I Have Seen Something Of Its People. The Greatest Heroism I Ever Saw 
   Manifested in my Life Was By A Young Southern Girl, And If Such Are 
   Their Women We Shall Find The Men Foemen Abundantly Worthy Of Our Steel. 
   We Shall Indeed have To Literally Walk Over Them, That Is, Such Of Us As 
   Are Left And Able To Walk. I Agree With Mrs. Arnot, And I Tremble For 
   The Future Of My Country." 
     
     
     
   Mr. Beaumont Forgot Himself For Once So Far As To Say, "Oh, If You Find 
   Such Cause For Trembling--" But Laura'S Indignant Face Checked further 
   Utterance. 
     
     
     
   "I Propose To Do My Duty," Said Haldane, With A Quiet Smile, Though A 
   Quick Flush Showed that He Felt The Slur, "And It Will Be Your Duty, 
   Colonel, To See That I Do." 
     
     
     
   "You Have Taught Us That The Word Duty Means A Great Deal To You, 
   Egbert," Said Mrs. Arnot, And Then The Matter Dropped. But The Animus Of 
   Each Man Had Been Quite Clearly Revealed, And The Question Would Rise In 
   Laura'S Mind, "Does Not The One Belittle The Occasion Because Little 
   Himself?" Although She Dreaded the Coming War Inexpressibly, She Took 
   Haldane'S View Of It. His Tribute To Her Cousin Amy Also Touched a Very 
   Tender Chord. 
     
     
     
   On The Ground Of Having Secured so Many Recruits Mr. Ivison Urged that 
   Haldane Should Have The Rank Of Major, But At That Time Those Things 
   Were Controlled largely By Political Influence And Favoritism, And There 
   Were Still Not A Few In hillaton Who Both Thought And Spoke Of The Young 
   Man'S Past Record As A Good Reason Why He Should Not Have Any Rank At 
   All. He Quietly Took What Was Given Him And Asked for Nothing More. 
     
     
     
   All Now Know That Mr. Beaumont'S View Was Not Correct, And As The 
   Conflict Thickened and Deepened that Elegant Gentleman Became More And 
   More Disgusted. Not That He Lacked personal Courage, But, As He Often 
   Remarked, It Was The "Horrid Style Of Living" That He Could Not Endure. 
   He Could Not Find An Aesthetic Element In the Blinding Dust Or 
   Unfathomable Mud Of Virginia. 
     
     
     
   As Was Usually The Case, There Was In the Regiment A Soldier Gifted with 
   The Power And Taste For Letter-Writing, And He Kept The Local Papers 
   Quite Well Posted concerning affairs In the Regiment. One Item 
   Concerning Beaumont Will Indicate The Condition Of His Mind. After 
   Describing The "Awful" Nature Of The Roads And Weather, The Writer 
   Added, "The Colonel Looks As If In a Chronic State Of Disgust." 
     
     
     
   Suddenly The Regiment Was Ordered to The Far Southwest. This Was More 
   Than Beaumont Could Endure, For In his View Life In that Region Would Be 
   A Burden Under Any Circumstances. He Coolly Thought The Matter Over, And 
   Concluded that He Would Rather Go Home, Marry Laura, And Take A Tour In 
   Europe, And Promptly Executed the First Part Of His Plan By Resigning On 
   Account Of Ill-Health. He Had A Bad Cold, It Is True, Which Had Chiefly 
   Gone To His Head And Made Him Very Uncomfortable, And So Inflamed his 
   Nose That The Examining Physician Misjudged the Exemplary Gentleman, 
   Recommending That His Resignation Be Accepted, More From The Fear That 
   His Habits Were Bad Than From Any Other Cause. But By The Time He 
   Reached hillaton His Nose Was Itself Again, And He As Elegant As Ever. 
   The Political Major Had Long Since Disappeared, And So Haldane Started 
   For His Distant Field Of Duty As Lieutenant-Colonel. 
     
     
     
   The Regimental Letter-Writer Chronicled this Promotion In the Hillaton 
   "Courier" With Evident Satisfaction. 
     
     
     
   "Lieut.-Col. Haldane," He Wrote, "Is Respected by All And Liked by The 
   Majority. He Keeps Us Rigidly To Our Duty, But Is Kind And Considerate 
   Nevertheless. He Is The Most Useful Officer I Ever Heard Of. Now He Is 
   Chaplain And Again He Is Surgeon. He Coaxes The Money Away From The Men 
   And Sends It Home To Their Families, Otherwise Much Of It Would Be Lost 
   In Gambling. Many A Mother And Wife In hillaton Hears From The Absent 
   Oftener Because The Colonel Urges The Boys To Write, And Writes For 
   Those Who Are Unable. To Give You A Sample Of The Man I Will Tell You 
   What I Saw Not Long Ago. The Roads Were Horrible As Usual, And Some Of 
   The Men Were Getting Played out On The March. The First Thing I Knew A 
   Sick Man Was On The Major'S Horse (He Was Major Then), And He Was 
   Trudging along In the Mud With The Rest Of Us, And Carrying The Muskets 
   Of Three Other Men Who Were Badly Used up. [Footnote: I Cannot Refrain 
   Here From Paying a Tribute To My Old Schoolmate And Friend, Major James 
   Cromwell, Of The 124Th New York Volunteers, Whom I Have Seen Plodding 
   Along In the Mud In a November Storm, A Sick Soldier Riding His Horse, 
   While He Carried the Accoutrements Of Other Men Who Were Giving Out From 
   Exhaustion. Major Cromwell Was Killed while Leading a Charge At The 
   Battle Of Gettysburg. ] We Want The People Of Hillaton To Understand, 
   That If Any Of Us Get Back We Won'T Hear Anything More Against Haldane. 
   Nice, Pretty Fellows, Who Don'T Like To Get Their Boots Muddy, As Our 
   Ex-Colonel, For Instance, May Be More To Their Taste, But They Ain'T To 
   Ours." 
     
     
     
   Laura Read This Letter With Cheeks That Reddened with Shame And Then 
   Grew Very Pale. 
     
     
     
   "Auntie," She Said, Showing It To Mrs. Arnot, "I Cannot Marry That Man. 
   I Would Rather Die First." 
     
     
     
   "I Do Not Wonder That You Feel So," Replied mrs. Arnot Emphatically. 
   "With All His Wealth And Culture I Neither Would Nor Could Marry Him, 
   And Would Tell Him So. I Have Felt Sure That You Would Come To This 
   Conclusion, But I Wished your Own Heart And Conscience To Decide The 
   Matter." 
     
     
     
   But Before Laura Could Say To Mr. Beaumont That Which She Felt She Must, 
   And Yet Which She Dreaded, For His Sake, To Speak, A Social Earthquake 
   Took Place In hillaton. 
     
     
     
   Mr. Arnot Was Arrested! But For The Promptness Of His Friends To Give 
   Bail For His Appearance, He Would Have Been Taken From His Private 
   Office To Prison As Poor Haldane Had Been Years Before. 
     
     
     
   It Would Be Wearisome To Tell The Long Story Of His Financial Distress, 
   Which He Characteristically Kept Concealed from His Wife. Experiences 
   Like His Are Only Too Common. With His Passion For Business He Had 
   Extended it To The Utmost Limit Of His Capital. Then Came A Time Of 
   Great Depression And Contraction. Prompted by A Will That Had Never Been 
   Thwarted, And A Passion For Routine Which Could Endure No Change, He 
   Made Herculean Effort To Keep Everything Moving On With Mechanical 
   Regularity. His Strong Business Foresight Detected the Coming Change For 
   The Better In the Business World, And With Him It Was Only A Question Of 
   Bridging Over The Intervening Gulf. He Sank His Own Property In his 
   Effort To Do This; Then The Property Of His Wife And Laura, Which He 
   Held In trust. Then Came The Great Temptation Of His Life. He Was Joint 
   Trustee Of Another Very Large Property, And The Co-Executor Was In 
   Europe, And Would Be Absent For Years. In order To Use Some Of The Funds 
   Of This Property It Was Necessary To Have The Signature Of This 
   Gentleman. With The Infatuation Of Those Who Dally With This Kind Of 
   Temptation, Mr. Arnot Felt Sure That He Could Soon Make Good All That He 
   Should Use In his Present Emergency, And, Therefore, Forged the Name Of 
   The Co-Trustee. The Gentleman Returned from Europe Unexpectedly, And The 
   Crime Was Discovered and Speedily Proved. 
     
     
     
   It Was Now That Mrs. Arnot Proved what A Noble And Womanly Nature She 
   Possessed. Without Palliating His Fault, She Ignored the Whole Scoffing, 
   Chattering World, And Stood By Her Husband With As Wifely Devotion As If 
   His Crime Had Been Misfortune, And He Himself Had Been The Affectionate 
   Considerate Friend That She Had Believed he Would Be, When As A Blushing 
   Maiden She Had Accepted the Hand That Had Grown So Hard, And Cold, And 
   Heavy. 
     
     
     
   Mr. Beaumont Was Stunned and Bewildered. At First He Scarcely Knew What 
   To Do, Although His Sagacious Father And Mother Told Him Very Plainly To 
   Break The Engagement At Once. But The Trouble With Mr. Beaumont Upon 
   This Occasion Was That He Was A Man Of Honor, And For Once He Almost 
   Regretted the Fact. But Since He Was, He Believed that There Was But One 
   Course Open For Him. Although Laura Was Now Penniless, And The Same 
   Almost As The Daughter Of A Man Who Would Soon Be In state Prison, He 
   Had Promised to Marry Her. She Must Become The Mistress Of The Ancient 
   And Aristocratic Beaumont Mansion. 
     
     
     
   He Braced himself, As Had Been His Custom When A Battle Was In prospect, 
   And Went Down To The Beautiful Villa Which Would Be Laura'S Home But A 
   Few Days Longer. 
     
     
     
   As He Entered, She Saw That He Was About To Perform The One Heroic Act 
   Of His Life, But She Was Cruel Enough To Prevent Even That One, And So 
   Reduced his Whole Career To One Consistently Elegant And Polished 
   Surface. 
     
     
     
   He Had Taken Her Hand, And Was About To Address Her In the Most 
   Appropriate Language, And With All The Dignity Of Self-Sacrifice, When 
   She Interrupted him By Saying Briefly: 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Beaumont, Please Listen To Me First. Before The Most Unexpected 
   Event Occurred which Has Made So Great A Change In my Fortunes, And I 
   May Add, In so Many Of My Friends, I Had Decided to Say To You In all 
   Sincerity And, Kindness That I Could Not Marry You. I Could Not Give You 
   That Love Which A Wife Ought To Give To A Husband. I Now Repeat My 
   Decision Still More Emphatically." 
     
     
     
   Mr. Beaumont Was Again Stunned and Bewildered. A Woman Declining To 
   Marry Him! 
     
     
     
   "Can Nothing Change Your Decision?" He Faltered, Fearing That Something 
   Might. 
     
     
     
   "Nothing," She Coldly Replied, And With An Involuntary Expression Of 
   Contempt Hovering around Her Flexible Mouth. 
     
     
     
   "But What Will You Do?" He Asked, Prompted by Not A Little Curiosity. 
     
     
     
   "Support Myself By Honest Work," Was Her Quiet But Very Decisive Answer. 
     
     
     
   Mr. Beaumont Now Felt That There Was Nothing More To Be Done But To Make 
   A Little Elegant Farewell Address, And Depart, And He Would Make It In 
   Spite Of All That She Could Do. 
     
     
     
   The Next Thing She Heard Of Him Was That He Had Started on A Tour Of 
   Europe, And, No Doubt, In his Old Character Of A Connoisseur, Whose 
   Judgment Few Dared to Dispute. 
     
   
   
   
   Chapter LIV (Another Knight Appears) 
   The Processes Of Law Were At Length Complete, And Mr. Arnot Found 
   Himself In a Prison Cell, With The Prospect That Years Must Elapse 
   Before He Would Receive A Freedom That Now Was Dreaded almost More Than 
   His Forced seclusion. After His Conviction He Had Been Taken From 
   Hillaton To A Large Prison Of The State, In a Distant City. 
     
     
     
   "I Shall Follow You, Thomas, As Soon As I Can Complete Such Arrangements 
   As Are Essential," Mrs. Arnot Had Said, "And Will Remain As Near To You 
   As I Can. Indeed, It Will Be Easier For Laura And Me To Commence Our New 
   Life There Than Here." 
     
     
     
   The Man Had At Last Begun To Realize The Whole Truth. True To His 
   Nature, He Thought Of Himself First, And Saw That His Crime, Like A 
   Great Black Hand, Had Dragged him Down From His Proud Eminence Of Power 
   And Universal Respect, Away From His Beloved business, And Had Shut Him 
   Up In this Narrow, Stony Sepulchre, For What Better Was His Prison Cell 
   Than A Tomb To A Man With His Tireless Mind? The Same Mind Which Like A 
   Giant Had Carried its Huge Burden Every Day, Was Still His; But Now 
   There Was Nothing For It To Do. And Yet It Would Act, For Constant 
   Mental Action Had Become A Necessity From A Lifetime Of Habit. 
   Heretofore His Vast Business Taxed every Faculty To The Utmost. He Had 
   To Keep His Eye On All The Great Markets Of The World; He Had To Follow 
   Politicians, Diplomats, And Monarchs Into Their Secret Councils, And 
   Guess At Their Policy In order To Shape His Own Business Policy. His 
   Interests Were So Large And Far-Reaching That It Had Been Necessary For 
   Him To Take A Glance Over The World Before He Could Properly Direct His 
   Affairs From His Private Office. For Years He Had Been Commanding a 
   Small Army Of Men, And With Consummate Skill And Constant Thought He Had 
   Arrayed the Industry Of His Army Against The Labors Of Like Armies Under 
   The Leadership Of Other Men In competition With Himself. His Mind Had 
   Learned to Flash With Increasing Speed and Accuracy To One And Another 
   Of All These Varied interests. But Now The Great Fabric Of Business And 
   Wealth, Which He Had Built By A Lifetime Of Labor, Had Vanished like A 
   Dream, And Nothing Remained but The Mind That Had Constructed it. 
     
     
     
   "Ah!" He Groaned again And Again, "Why Could Not Mind And Memory Perish 
   Also?" 
     
     
     
   But They Remained, And Were The Only Possessions Left Of His Great 
   Wealth. 
     
     
     
   Then He Began To Think Of His Wife And Laura. He Had Beggared them, And, 
   What Was Far Worse, He Had Darkened their Lives With The Shadow Of His 
   Own Disgrace. Wholly Innocent As They Were, They Must Suffer Untold 
   Wretchedness Through His Act. In his View He Was The Cause Of The Broken 
   Engagement Between His Niece And The Wealthy Mr. Beaumont, And Now He 
   Saw That There Was Nothing Before The Girl But A Dreary Effort To Gain A 
   Livelihood By Her Own Labor, And This Effort Rendered almost Hopeless By 
   The Reflected shame Of His Crime. 
     
     
     
   His Wife Also Was Growing Old And Feeble. At Last He Realized he Had A 
   Wife Such As Is Given To But Few Men--A Woman Who Was Great Enough To Be 
   Tender And Sympathetic Through All The Awful Weeks That Had Elapsed 
   Since The Discovery Of His Crime--A Woman Who Could Face What She Saw 
   Before Her And Utter No Words Of Repining Or Reproach. 
     
     
     
   He Now Saw How Cold And Hard And Unappreciative He Had Been Toward Her 
   In The Days Of His Prosperity, And He Cursed himself And His Unutterable 
   Folly. 
     
     
     
   Thus His Great Powerful Mind Turned in vindictive Rage Against Itself. 
   Memory Began To Show Him With Mocking Finger And Bitter Jibes Where He 
   Might Have Acted more Wisely In his Business, More Wisely In his Social 
   Relations, And Especially More Wisely And Humanely, To Say The Least, In 
   His Own Home. It Seemed to Take A Fiendish Delight In telling Him How 
   Everything Might Have Been Different, And How He, Instead Of Brooding In 
   A Prison Cell, Might Have Been The Most Honored, Useful, Wealthy, And 
   Happy Man In hillaton. 
     
     
     
   Thus He Was Tortured until Physical Exhaustion Brought Him A Brief 
   Respite Of Sleep. But The Next Day It Was The Same Wretched round Of 
   Bitter Memories And Vain But Torturing activity Of Mind. Day After Day 
   Passed and He Grew Haggard Under His Increasing Mental Distress. His 
   Mind Was Like A Great Driving Wheel, Upon Which All The Tremendous 
   Motive Power Is Turned without Cessation, But For Which There Is Nothing 
   To Drive Save The Man Himself, And Seemingly It Would Drive Him Mad. 
     
     
     
   At Last He Said To Himself, "I Cannot Endure This. For My Own Sake, For 
   The Sake Of My Wife And Laura, It Were Better That An Utter Blank Should 
   Take The Place Of Thomas Arnot. I Am, And Ever Shall Be, Only A Burden 
   To Them. I Am Coming To Be An Intolerable Burden To Myself." 
     
     
     
   The Thought Of Suicide, Once Entertained, Grew Rapidly In favor, And At 
   Last It Became Only A Question How He Could Carry Out His Dark Purpose. 
   With This Definite Plan Before Him He Grew Calmer. At Last He Had 
   Something To Do In the Future, And Terrible Memory Must Suspend For A 
   Time Its Scorpion Lash While He Thought How Best To Carry Out His Plan. 
     
     
     
   The Suicide About To Take The Risk Of Endless Suffering Is Usually 
   Desirous That The Intervening Moments Of His "Taking Off" Should Be As 
   Painless As Possible, And Mr. Arnot Began To Think How He Could Make His 
   Exit Momentary. But His More Tranquil Mood, The Result Of Having Some 
   Definite Action Before Him, Led to Sleep, And The Long Night Passed in 
   Unconsciousness, The Weary Body Clogging The Wheels Of Conscious 
   Thought. 
     
     
     
   The Sun Was Shining When He Awoke; But With Returning Consciousness Came 
   Memory And Pain, And The Old Cowardly Desire To Escape All The 
   Consequences Of His Sin By Death. He Vowed he Would Not Live To See 
   Another Day, And Once More He Commenced brooding Over The One Question, 
   How He Would Die. As He Took Up This Question Where He Had Dropped it 
   The Previous Night, The Thought Occurred to Him What A Long Respite He 
   Had Had From Pain. Then Like A Flash Of Lightning Came Another Thought: 
     
     
     
   "Suppose By My Self-Destroying act I Pass Into A Condition Of Life In 
   Which There Is No Sleep, And Memory Can Torture Without Cessation, 
   Without Respite? True, I Have Tried to Believe There Is No Future Life, 
   But Am I Sure Of It? Here I Can Obtain A Little Rest. For Hours I Have 
   Been Unconscious, Through The Weight Of The Body Upon My Spirit. How Can 
   I Be Sure That The Spirit Cannot Exist Separately And Suffer Just The 
   Same? I Am Not Suffering Now Through My Body, And Have Not Been Through 
   All These Terrible Days. My Body Is Here In this Cell, Inert And 
   Motionless, Painless, While In my Mind I Am Enduring The Torments Of The 
   Damned. The Respite From Suffering That I Have Had Has Come Through The 
   Weariness Of My Body, And Here I Am Planning To Cast Down The One 
   Barrier That Perhaps Saves Me From An Eternity Of Torturing Thought And 
   Memory." 
     
     
     
   He Was Appalled at The Bare Possibility Of Such A Future; Reason Told 
   Him That Such A Future Was Probable, And Conscience Told Him That It Was 
   Before Him In veritable Truth. He Felt That Wherever He Carried memory 
   And His Present Character He Would Be Most Miserable, Whether It Were In 
   Dante'S Inferno, Milton'S Paradise, Or The Heaven Or Hell Of The Bible. 
     
     
     
   There Was No More Thought Of Suicide. Indeed, He Shrank From Death With 
   Inexpressible Dread. 
     
     
     
   Slowly His Thoughts Turned to His Wife, The Woman Who Had Been So True 
   To Him, The One Human Being Of All The World Who Now Stood By Him. She 
   Might Help Him In his Desperate Strait. She Seemed to Have A Principle 
   Within Her Soul Which Sustained her, And Which Might Sustain Him. At Any 
   Rate, He Longed to See Her Once More, And Ask Her Forgiveness In deep 
   Contrition For His Base And Lifelong Failure To "Love, Honor, And 
   Cherish Her," As He Had Promised at God'S Altar And Before Many 
   Witnesses. 
     
     
     
   The Devoted wife Came And Patiently Entered on Her Ministry Of Love And 
   Christian Faith, And Out Of The Chaos Of The Fallen Man Of Iron And 
   Stone There Gradually Emerged a New Man, Who First Became In christ'S 
   Expressive Words "A Little Child" In spiritual Things, That He Might 
   Grow Naturally And In the Symmetry Of The Enduring Manhood Which God 
   Designs To Perfect In the Coming ages. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot'S Sturdy Integrity Led her To Give Up Everything To Her 
   Husband'S Creditors, And She Came To The City Of Her New Abode Wherein 
   The Prison Was Located almost Penniless. But She Brought Letters From 
   Dr. Barstow, Mr. Ivison, And Other Christian People Of Hillaton. These 
   Were Presented at A Church Of The Denomination To Which She Belonged, 
   And All She Asked was Some Employment By Which She And Laura Could 
   Support Themselves. These Letters Secured confidence At Once. There Was 
   No Mystery--Nothing Concealed--And, Although So Shadowed by The Disgrace 
   Of Another, The Bearing Of The Ladies Inspired respect And Won Sympathy. 
   A Gentleman Connected with The Church Gave Laura The Position Of 
   Saleswoman In his Bookstore, And To Mrs. Arnot'S Little Suburban Cottage 
   Of Only Three Rooms Kind And Interested ladies Brought Sewing and 
   Fancy-Work. Thus They Were Provided for, As God'S People Ever Are In 
   Some Way. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot Had Written A Long Letter To Haldane Before Leaving Hillaton, 
   Giving a Full Account Of Their Troubles, With One Exception. At Laura'S 
   Request She Had Not Mentioned the Broken Engagement With Beaumont. 
     
     
     
   "If Possible, I Wish To See Him Myself Before He Knows," She Had Said. 
   "At Least, Before Any Correspondence Takes Place Between Us, I Wish To 
   Look Into His Eyes, And If I See The Faintest Trace Of Shrinking From Me 
   There, As I Saw It In mr. Beaumont'S Eyes, I Will Never Marry Him, Truly 
   As I Love Him." 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot'S Face Had Lighted up With Its Old-Time Expression, As She 
   Said: 
     
     
     
   "Laura, Don'T You Know Egbert Haldane Better Than That?" 
     
     
     
   "I Can'T Help It," She Had Replied with A Troubled brow; "The Manner Of 
   Nearly Every One Has Changed so Greatly That I Must See Him First." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Did Not Receive Mrs. Arnot'S First Letter. He Was At Sea With 
   His Regiment, On His Way To The Far Southwest, When The Events In which 
   He Would Have Been So Deeply Interested began To Occur. After Reaching 
   His New Scene Of Duty, There Were Constant Alternations Of March And 
   Battle. In the Terrible Campaign That Followed, The Men Of The Army He 
   Was Acting With Were Decimated, And Officers Dropped out Fast. In 
   Consequence, Haldane, Who Received but Two Slight Wounds, That Did Not 
   Disable Him, Was Promoted rapidly. The Colonel Of The Regiment Was 
   Killed soon After Their Arrival, And From The Command Of The Regiment He 
   Rose, Before The Campaign Was Over, To Command A Brigade, And Then A 
   Division; And He Performed his Duties So Faithfully And Ably That He Was 
   Confirmed in this Position. 
     
     
     
   Mrs. Arnot'S First Letter Had Followed him Around For A Time, And Then 
   Was Lost, Like So Many Others In that Time Of Dire Confusion. Her Second 
   Letter After Long Delay Reached him, But It Was Very Brief And Hurried, 
   And Referred to Troubles That He Did Not Understand. From Members Of His 
   Old Regiment, However, Rumors Reached him Of Some Disaster To Mr. Arnot, 
   And Wrong-Doing On His Part, Which Had Led to Imprisonment. 
     
     
     
   Haldane Was Greatly Shocked at The Bare Possibility Of Such Events, And 
   Wrote A Most Sympathetic Letter To Mrs. Arnot, Which Never Reached her. 
   She Had Received some Of His Previous Letters, But Not This One. 
     
     
     
   By The Time The Campaign Was Over One Of Haldane'S Wounds Began To 
   Trouble Him Very Much, And His Health Seemed generally Broken Down From 
   Exposure And Overexertion. As A Leave Of Absence Was Offered him, He 
   Availed himself Of It And Took Passage To New York. 
     
     
     
   Three Or Four Letters From His Mother Had Reached him, But That Lady'S 
   Causeless Jealousy Of Mrs. Arnot Had Grown To Such Proportions That She 
   Never Mentioned her Old Friend'S Name. 
     
     
     
   The Long Days Of The Homeward Voyage Were Passed by Haldane In vain 
   Conjecture. Of One Thing He Felt Sure, And That Was That Laura Was By 
   This Time, Or Soon Would Be, Mrs. Beaumont; And Now That The Excitement 
   Of Military Service Was Over, The Thought Rested on Him With A Weight 
   That Was Almost Crushing. 
     
     
     
   One Evening Mr. Growther Was Dozing as Usual Between His Cat And Dog, 
   When Some One Lifted the Latch And Walked in without The Ceremony Of 
   Knocking. 
     
     
     
   "Look Here, Stranger, Where'S Yer Manners?" Snarled the Old Gentleman. 
   Then Catching a Glimpse Of The Well-Remembered face, Though Now Obscured 
   By A Tremendous Beard, He Started up, Exclaiming, 
     
     
     
   "Lord A' Massy! 'Taint You, Is It? And You Compared yourself With That 
   Little, Peaked-Faced chap That'S Around Just The Same--You With 
   Shoulders As Broad As Them Are, And Two Stars On 'Em Too!" 
     
     
     
   The Old Man Nearly Went Beside Himself With Joy. He Gave The Cat And Dog 
   Each A Vigorous Kick, And Told Them To "Wake Up And See If They Could 
   Believe Their Eyes." 
     
     
     
   It Was Some Time Before Haldane Could Get Him Quieted down So As To 
   Answer All The Questions That He Was Longing To Put; But At Last He Drew 
   Out The Story In full Of Mr. Arnot'S Forgery And Its Consequences. 
     
     
     
   "Has Mr. Beaumont Married miss Romeyn?" At Last He Faltered. 
     
     
     
   "No; I Reckon Not," Said Mr. Growther Dryly. 
     
     
     
   "What Do You Mean?" Asked haldane Sharply. 
     
     
     
   "Well, All I Know Is That He Didn'T Marry Her, And She Ain'T The Kind Of 
   A Girl To Marry Him, Whether He Would Or No, And So They Ain'T Married." 
     
     
     
   "The Infernal Scoundrel!" Thundered haldane, Springing To His Feet. 
   "The--" 
     
     
     
   "Hold On!" Cried mr. Growther. "O Lord A' Massy! I Half Believe He'S Got 
   To Swearin' Down In the War. If He'S Backslid Agin, Nothin' But My 
   Little, Peaked-Faced chap Will Ever Bring Him Around A Nuther Time." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Was Stalking Up And Down The Room In strong Excitement And Quite 
   Oblivious Of Mr. Growther'S Perplexity. 
     
     
     
   "The Unutterable Fool!" He Exclaimed, "To Part From Such A Woman As 
   Laura Romeyn For Any Cause Save Death." 
     
     
     
   "Well, Hang It All! If He'S A Fool That'S His Business. What On 'Arth Is 
   The Matter With You? I Ain'T Used to Havin' Bombshells Go Off Right 
   Under My Nose As You Be, And The Way You Are Explodin' Round Kinder 
   Takes Away My Breath." 
     
     
     
   "Forgive Me, My Old Friend; But I Never Had A Shot Strike Quite As Close 
   As This. Poor Girl! Poor Girl! What A Prospect She Had A Few Months 
   Since. True Enough, Beaumont Was Never A Man To My Taste; But A Woman 
   Sees No Faults In the Man She Loves; And He Could Have Given Her 
   Everything That Her Cultivated taste Could Wish For. Poor Girl, She Must 
   Be Broken-Hearted with All This Trouble And Disappointment." 
     
     
     
   "If I Was You, I'D Go And See If She Was," Said Mr. Growther, With A 
   Shrewd Twinkle In his Eyes. "I'Ve Heerd Tell Of Hearts Bein' Mended in 
   My Day." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Looked at Him A Moment, And, As He Caught His Old Friend'S 
   Meaning, He Brought His Hand Down On The Table With A Force That Made 
   Everything In the Old Kitchen Ring again. 
     
     
     
   "O Lord A' Massy!" Ejaculated mr. Growther, Hopping Half Out Of His 
   Chair. 
     
     
     
   "Mr. Growther," Said Haldane, Starting Up, "I Came To Have A Very 
   Profound Respect For Your Sagacity And Wisdom Years Ago, But To-Night 
   You Have Surpassed solomon Himself. I Shall Take Your Most Excellent 
   Advice At Once And Go And See." 
     
     
     
   "Not To-Night--" 
     
     
     
   "Yes, I Can Yet Catch The Owl Train To-Night. Good-By For A Short Time." 
     
     
     
   "No Wonder He Took The Rebs' Works, If He Went For 'Em Like That," 
   Chuckled mr. Growther, As He Composed himself After The Excitement Of 
   The Unexpected visit. "Now I Know What Made Him Look So Long As If 
   Something Was A-Gnawin' At His Heart; So I'M A-Thinkin' There'Ll Be Two 
   Hearts Mended." 
     
     
     
   Haldane Reached the City In which Mrs. Arnot Resided early In the 
   Morning, And As He Had No Clew To Her Residence, He Felt That His Best 
   Chance Of Hearing Of Her Would Be At The Prison Itself, For He Knew Well 
   That She Would Seek Either To See Or Learn Of Her Husband'S Welfare 
   Almost Daily. In answer To His Inquiries, He Was Told That She Would Be 
   Sure To Come To The Prison At Such An Hour In the Evening Since That Was 
   Her Custom. 
     
     
     
   He Must Get Through The Day The Best He Could, And So Strolled off To 
   The Business Part Of The City, Where Was Located the Leading Hotel, And 
   Was Followed by Curious Eyes And Surmises. Major-Generals Were Not In 
   The Habit Of Inquiring at The Prison After Convicts' Wives. 
     
     
     
   As He Passed a Bookstore, It Occurred to Him That An Exciting Story 
   Would Help Kill Time, And He Sauntered in and Commenced looking Over The 
   Latest Publications That Were Seductively Arranged near The Door. 
     
     
     
   "I'Ll Go To Breakfast Now, Miss," Said The Junior Clerk Who Swept The 
   Store. 
     
     
     
   "Thank You. Oh, Go Quickly," Murmured laura Romeyn To Herself, As With 
   Breathless Interest She Watched the Unconscious Officer, Waiting Till He 
   Should Look Up And Recognize Her Standing Behind A Counter. She Was 
   Destined to Have Her Wish In very Truth, For When He Saw Her He Would Be 
   So Surely Off His Guard From Surprise That She Could See Into The Very 
   Depths Of His Heart. 
     
     
     
   Would He Never Look Up? She Put Her Hand To Her Side, For Anticipation 
   Was So Intense As To Become A Pain. She Almost Panted from Excitement. 
   This Was The Supreme Moment Of Her Life, But The Very Fact Of His Coming 
   To This City Promised well For The Hope Which Fed her Life. 
     
     
     
   "Ah, He Is Reading. The Thought Of Some Stranger Holds Him, While My 
   Intense Thoughts And Feelings No More Affect Him Than If I Were A 
   Thousand Miles Away. How Strong And Manly He Looks! How Well That 
   Uniform Becomes Him, Though Evidently Worn And Battle-Stained! Ah! Two 
   Stars Upon His Shoulder! Can It Be That He Has Won Such High Rank? What 
   Will He Think Of Poor Me, Selling Books For Bread? Egbert Haldane, 
   Beware! If You Shrink From Me Now, Even In the Expression Of Your Eye, I 
   Stand Aloof From You Forever." 
     
     
     
   The Man Thus Standing On The Brink Of Fate, Read Leisurely On, Smiling 
   At Some Quaint Fancy Of The Author, Who Had Gained his Attention For A 
   Moment. 
     
     
     
   "Heigh Ho!" He Said At Last," This Stealing Diversion From A Book 
   Unbought Is Scarcely Honest, So I Will--" 
     
     
     
   The Book Dropped from His Hands, And He Passed his Hands Across His Eyes 
   As If To Brush Away A Film. Then His Face Lighted up With All The Noble 
   And Sympathetic Feeling That Laura Had Ever Wished or Hoped to See, And 
   He Sprang Impetuously Toward Her. 
     
     
     
   "Miss Romeyn," He Exclaimed. "Oh, This Is Better Than I Hoped." 
     
     
     
   "Did You Hope To Find Me Earning My Bread In this Humble Way?" She 
   Faltered, Deliciously Conscious That He Was Almost Crushing Her Hand In 
   A Grasp That Was All Too Friendly. 
     
     
     
   "I Was Hoping To Find _You_--And Mrs. Arnot," He Added with A Sudden 
   Deepening Of Color. "I Thought A Long Day Must Elapse Before I Could 
   Learn Of Your Residence." 
     
     
     
   "Do You Know All?" She Asked, Very Gravely. 
     
     
     
   "Yes, Miss Romeyn," He Replied with Moistening Eyes, "I Know All. 
   Perhaps My Past Experience Enables Me To Sympathize With You More Than 
   Others Can. But Be That As It May, I Do Give You The Whole Sympathy Of 
   My Heart; And For This Brave Effort To Win Your Own Bread I Respect And 
   Honor You More, If Possible, Than I Did When You Were In your Beautiful 
   Home At Hillaton." 
     
     
     
   Laura'S Tears Were Now Falling Fast, But She Was Smiling Nevertheless, 
   And She Said, Hesitatingly: 
     
     
     
   "I Do Not Consider Myself Such A Deplorable Object Of Sympathy; I Have 
   Good Health, A Kind Employer, Enough To Live Upon, And A Tolerably Clear 
   Conscience. Of Course I Do Feel Deeply For Auntie And Uncle, And Yet I 
   Think Auntie Is Happier Than She Has Been For Many Years. If All Had 
   Remained as It Was At Hillaton, The Ice Around Uncle'S Heart Would Have 
   Grown Harder And Thicker To The End; Now It Is Melting away, And 
   Auntie'S Thoughts Reach So Far Beyond Time And Earth, That She Is 
   Forgetting The Painful Present In thoughts Of The Future." 
     
     
     
   "I Have Often Asked myself," Exclaimed haldane, "Could God Have Made A 
   Nobler Woman? Ah! Miss Laura, You Do Not Know How Much I Owe To Her." 
     
     
     
   "You Have Taught Us That God Can Make Noble Men Also." 
     
     
     
   "I Have Merely Done My Duty," He Said, With A Careless Gesture. "When 
   Can I See Mrs. Arnot?" 
     
     
     
   "I Can'T Go Home Till Noon, But I Think I Can Direct You To The House." 
     
     
     
   "Can I Not Stay And Help You Sell Books? Then I Can Go Home With You." 
     
     
     
   "A Major-General Behind The Counter Selling Books Would Make A Sensation 
   In Town, Truly." 
     
     
     
   "If The People Were Of My Way Of Thinking, Miss Laura Romeyn Selling 
   Books Would Make A Far Greater Sensation." 
     
     
     
   "Very Few Are Of Your Way Of Thinking, Mr. Haldane." 
     
     
     
   "I Am Heartily Glad Of It," He Ejaculated. 
     
     
     
   "Indeed!" 
     
     
     
   "Pardon Me, Miss Romeyn" He Said With A Deep Flush, "You Do Not 
   Understand What I Mean." Then He Burst Out Impetuously, "Miss Laura, I 
   Cannot School Myself Into Patience. I Have Been In despair So Many Years 
   That Since I Now Dare To Imagine That There Is A Bare Chance For Me, I 
   Cannot Wait Decorously For Some Fitting Occasion. But If You Can Give Me 
   Even The Faintest Hope I Will Be Patience And Devotion Itself." 
     
     
     
   "Hope Of What?" Said Laura Faintly, Turning away Her Face. 
     
     
     
   "Oh, Miss Laura, I Ask Too Much," He Answered sadly. 
     
     
     
   "You Have Not Asked anything Very Definitely, Mr. Haldane," She 
   Faltered. 
     
     
     
   "I Ask For The Privilege Of Trying To Win You As My Wife." 
     
     
     
   "Ah, Egbert," She Cried, Joyously, "You Have Stood The Test; For If You 
   Had Shrunk, Even In your Thoughts, From Poor, Penniless Laura Romeyn, 
   With Her Uncle In yonder Prison, You Might Have Tried in vain To Win 
   Me." 
     
     
     
   "God Knows I Did Not Shrink," He Said Eagerly, And Reaching Out His Hand 
   Across The Counter. 
     
     
     
   "I Know It Too," She Said Shyly. 
     
     
     
   "Laura, All That I Am, Or Ever Can Be, Goes With That Hand." 
     
     
     
   She Put Her Hand In his, And Looking Into His Face With An Expression 
   Which He Had Never Seen Before, She Said: 
     
     
     
   "Egbert, I Have Loved you Ever Since You Went, As A True Knight, To The 
   Aid Of Cousin Amy." 
     
     
     
   And Thus They Plighted their Faith To Each Other Across The Counter, And 
   Then He Came Around On Her Side. 
     
     
     
   We Shall Not Attempt To Portray The Meeting Between Mrs. Arnot And One 
   Whom She Had Learned to Look Upon As A Son, And Who Loved her With An 
   Affection That Had Its Basis In the Deepest Gratitude. 
     
     
     
   Our Story Is Substantially Ended. It Only Remains To Be Said That 
   Haldane, By Every Means In his Power, Showed gentle And Forbearing 
   Consideration For His Mother'S Feelings, And Thus She Was Eventually Led 
   To Be Reconciled to His Choice, If Not To Approve Of It. 
     
     
     
   "After All, It Is Just Like Egbert," She Said To Her Daughters, "And We 
   Will Have To Make The Best Of It." 
     
     
     
   Haldane'S Leave Of Absence Passed all Too Quickly, And In parting He 
   Said To Laura: 
     
     
     
   "You Think I Have Faced some Rather Difficult Duties Before, But There 
   Was Never One That Could Compare With Leaving You For The Uncertainties 
   Of A Soldier'S Life." 
     
     
     
   But He Went Nevertheless, And Remained till The End Of The War. 
     
     
     
   Not Long After Going To The Front He Was Taken Prisoner In a Disastrous 
   Battle, But He Found Means Of Informing His Old Friend Dr. Orton Of The 
   Fact. Although The Doctor Was A Rebel To The Backbone, He Swore He Would 
   "Break Up The Confederacy" If Haldane Was Not Released, And Through His 
   Influence The Young Man Was Soon Brought To His Friend'S Hospitable 
   Home, Where He Found Amy Installed as Housekeeper. She Was Now Mrs. 
   Orton, For Her Lover Returned as Soon As It Was Safe For Him To Do So 
   After The End Of The Epidemic. He Was Now Away In the Army, And Thus 
   Haldane Did Not Meet Him At That Time; But Later In the Conflict Colonel 
   Orton In turn Became A Prisoner Of War, And Haldane Was Able To Return 
   The Kindness Which He Received on This Occasion. Mrs. Poland Resided 
   With Amy, And They Both Were Most Happy To Learn That They Would 
   Eventually Have A Relative As Well As Friend In their Captive, For Never 
   Was A Prisoner Of War Made More Of Than Haldane Up To The Time Of His 
   Exchange. 
     
     
     
   Years Have Passed. The Agony Of The War Has Long Been Over. Not Only 
   Peace But Prosperity Is Once More Prevailing Throughout The Land. 
     
     
     
   Mr. And Mrs. Arnot Reside In their Old Home, But Mrs. Egbert Haldane Is 
   Its Mistress. Much Effort Was Made To Induce Mr. Growther To Take Up His 
   Abode There Also, But He Would Not Leave The Quaint Old Kitchen, Where 
   He Said "The Little Peaked-Faced chap Was Sittin' Beside Him All The 
   Time." 
     
     
     
   At Last He Failed and Was About To Die. Looking Up Into Mrs. Arnot'S 
   Face, He Said: 
     
     
     
   "I Don'T Think A Bit Better Of Myself. I'M Twisted all Out O' Shape. But 
   The Little Chap Has Taught Me How The Good Father Will Receive Me." 
     
     
     
   The Wealthiest People Of Hillaton Are Glad To Obtain The Services Of Dr. 
   Haldane, And To Pay For Them; They Are Glad To Welcome Him To Their 
   Homes When His Busy Life Permits Him To Come; But The Proudest Citizen 
   Must Wait When Christ, In the Person Of The Poorest And Lowliest, Sends 
   Word To This Knightly Man, "I Am Sick Or In prison"; "I Am Naked or 
   Hungry." 
   
   
   Publication Date: August 19th 2014 https://www.bookrix.com/-tj5a887cd663e35