ASTRAY 

 
 CM!

 
 LOVE GONE ASTRAY, 
 
 BY ALBERT Ross. 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 OUT OF WEDLOCK," " AN ORIGINAL SINNER,' 
 " THOU SHALT NOT," " WHY I'M SINGLE," 
 " YOUNG FAWCETT'S MABEL," ETC. 
 
 M. A. DONOHUE & COMPANY 
 
 CHICAGO NEW YORK
 
 Made in U. S. A.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Chapter Page 
 
 I. In a Venetian Gondola. . '3 
 
 II. The Strange Mr. Neiling. . .26 
 
 III. " I could lend you fifty thousand." . 33 
 
 IV. Becoming a Pauper 42 
 
 V. Darius Yates, Solicitor. . . 55 
 
 VI. " Then there's a father, too ?" . . 62 
 VII. " You'll be required to marry." . . 69 
 
 VIII. A Very Blunt Refusal 74 
 
 IX. " Shall it be you or he ?" . .82 
 
 X. An American Girl. .... 90 
 
 XI. Husband and Wife. .... 97 
 
 XII. "You must let me thank you." . . 108 
 
 XIII. Confessing to Mamma, .... 118 
 
 XIV. "Good-night, Gladys." . . . .126 
 XV. Life on the Riviera. . , . . 132 
 
 XVI. The Family Secret. . . . .138 
 
 XVII. Arrival of the Baby. ... 145 
 
 XVIII. " It's my husband's room.' . . . 156 
 
 XIX. The Chicago Wheat Pit. . . .168 
 
 XX. Colonel Newcombe Ruined. . . . 176 
 
 la 
 
 2138093 '
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Chapter Page 
 
 XXI. "Just my luck !" !8i 
 
 XXII. Returning to London 187 
 
 XXIII. " You've got the prettiest wife." . . 195 
 
 XXIV. Plunged into Poverty 202 
 
 XXV. Mr. Julius Margrave 210 
 
 XXVI. " Is this the letter ?" . . . .220 
 
 XXVII. A Fair Proposition. .... 231 
 
 XXVIII. "Women are queer things." . . . 240 
 
 XXIX. A Cross-examination 252 
 
 XXX. Gladys in Peril. ..... 260 
 
 XXXI. " Stand back !" 272 
 
 XXXII. The History of a Crime. . . . 282 
 XXXIII, Everything Explained. . . . 290
 
 TO MY READERS. 
 
 AFTER a year of travel in Europe, Africa and Asia, 
 I am again at home, happy to breathe the air of my 
 native land and to greet friends steadfast and true. 
 
 The only new criticism that has come to me during 
 the past six months for most are mere repetitions 
 is because nearly all my novels treat of sex. Let us 
 see about that. 
 
 " Speaking of Ellen " and " Young Fawcett's Ma- 
 bel," are not based principally on the question of 
 sex. " Moulding a Maiden " is only secondarily so. 
 Most of the others are. What is the reason ? 
 
 My original success was with "Thou Shalt Not." 
 There was the question of sex, pure and simple. If 
 I had written first a romance of history, or of mur- 
 der, and attracted such attention from the reading 
 public, probably I should have taken a hint that my 
 forte was in that field. 
 
 " Let each do what he can do best." 
 
 There is great dramatic action in the sex issue. It 
 appeals to every man and woman with intelligence 
 of brain and pulses that move. It is creeping into 
 
 [7]
 
 1 TO MY KBADER3. 
 
 the novels of nearly every author of note. I think 1 
 will keep on awhile longer with it. 
 
 I have, however, written a story of mystery, based 
 on an assassination, that will appear some time, I do 
 not know when. If I rival the masters in that line I 
 shall certainly take the hint. 
 
 In the meantime you will find sex the ruling motif 
 in " LoVe Gone Astray," and I hope it will not prove 
 uninteresting. 
 
 ALBERT ROSS. 
 Cambridge, Mass., 1896.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 PLOT FOR A NOVEL. 
 
 M IF a young girl * goes astray ' " began my 
 
 friend. 
 
 " Weir ?" said I. 
 
 " And if some man, knowing that fact, himself be- 
 ing innocent of her fall, marries her " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "And in due time she bears a child, the result of 
 her indiscretion " 
 
 " I am listening." 
 
 " Can happiness possibly result from the union ?" 
 
 It was certainly a grave question. And I said to 
 my friend, as we sat at our coffee in the breakfast- 
 room of the Hole 1 Continental at Cairo, that I would 
 not like to answer it without further information. 
 
 " In the first place," I added, " men are not apt to 
 covet marriages made on the basis which you have 
 assumed. I should say it would be practically impos- 
 sible to obtain a respectable husband for a girl who had 
 committed such a fault, were the consequences what 
 you intimate." 
 
 Eg
 
 10 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 My friend smiled. 
 
 "Supposing," he said, "the man was very poor 
 and the girl's father very rich ?" 
 
 I admitted that this might alter the case some- 
 what ; people nowadays did almost anything for 
 money. If this was the make-weight in the hypoth- 
 etical instance, I could answer with considerable cer- 
 tainty that happiness would not follow such a mar- 
 riage. 
 
 "I can imagine that a certain type of man might 
 go through a wedding ceremony with such a girl," I 
 said, " if he was sufficiently well paid for it. Such 
 a fellow would hardly be above retaining the position 
 he had taken, either, if his continued compensation 
 depended thereon. But the infant, when it was born, 
 would be a standing reminder of his shame, as well 
 as hers. Unless the secret was jealously guarded, 
 the public would know of what had transpired, and 
 its seal of disapproval would make the conditions 
 well nigh unbearable." 
 
 My friend bowed. 
 
 " I refer to a case where the secret was kept in a 
 very narrow circle," he replied. 
 
 " Do you mean to say that you know, personally* 
 of a couple married in the way you suggest ?" 
 
 " Precisely." 
 
 " What was the result ?" 
 
 " If you have time to listen I will give you the en- 
 tire story," he said. " It may form the basis of a 
 future novel, and prove quite as interesting as one of 
 your own invention." 
 
 I had the time to listen, of course. One has time 
 for anything and everything agreeable in Cairo. The
 
 IKTKODUCTIOH. 11 
 
 best place to hear the tale was in a victoria, and with 
 my good dragoman, Hassan Mohammed, on the box 
 with the coachman, we set out at once on a drive to 
 the Pyramids. As the recital was only half through 
 when we reached the Mena House, we postponed the 
 remainder while we stopped there for an excellent 
 lunch. On the way back to Cairo my friend contin- 
 ued and finished the story. 
 
 It was indeed quite suitable for use, and I told my 
 friend, with thanks, that I should at once put it in 
 shape for my readers. I said I should make a few 
 alterations in it, for the sake of dramatic interest, but 
 in the main would follow the lines he had given me. 
 
 It would spoil my romance were I to answer on 
 this page the question that must be uppermost in 
 the reader's mind. I have already revealed almost 
 too much of the plot. For the rest I must refer you t 
 without more ado, to the chapters that follow.
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 IN A VBNETIAN GONDOLA. 
 
 IT was very early in the morning, and the Vene- 
 tian gondolier responded sleepily to the call of the 
 young American on the Piazzetta. The boatman 
 rowed leisurely to the bank, for the gentry to which 
 he belongs does not easily get excited, and helped 
 his fare into the gondola with a grace inherited 
 from generations of polite ancestors. 
 
 "Where?" he asked, in his Italian patois ; and the 
 young man, who hardly knew a word of the 
 language, had no difficulty in divining the meaning 
 of the question. 
 
 "Anywhere," he answered, with a wave of his 
 hand, as easily understood as the term used by the 
 other. 
 
 He wanted an early row among the oddities 
 of Venice, and as he had been in the Silent City
 
 14 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 but a short time, one direction was as agreeable to 
 him as another. 
 
 The gondolier took his long oar and began to pro- 
 pel his craft by those strange, sweeping motions that 
 so interest and puzzle one unused to this style of 
 rowing. Standing well back toward the stern, he 
 sent the beautiful creature of which he seemed a part 
 as gracefully through the water as any swan. 
 
 He rowed slowly, both from preference and be- 
 cause it was evident that haste was not desired by his 
 passenger. He rowed picturesquely, because there 
 is no other mode known to the gondolier of Venice, 
 from the uniformed attendant of a nabob to the 
 humblest freight boatman who brings a load of fire- 
 wood from the mainland or of vegetables from the 
 islands where the market gardens are located. 
 
 For a while the course of the boat lay along the 
 Grand Canal. It passed under the venerable Rialto, 
 as solid as London Bridge, in effect one massive 
 stone, that will be intact, as far as human judgment 
 can foresee, until the earth is in its final throes. On 
 either side of the Canal long lines of palaces shone 
 in the early light, their occupants, for the most part, 
 yet invisible. 
 
 Venice was still asleep. Lovely as she is at all 
 times, this stately creature is never so pretty as when 
 in repose. A glide along her watery streets just be- 
 fore sunrise is like moving silently through a garden 
 where nymphs lie in slumber. 
 
 In Venice there is no wheeled carriage of any de- 
 scription. Not a horse, mule, ox, goat, sheep, puts 
 his foot upon her pavements. The station at which 
 you arrive by train is at an extreme corner of the
 
 IN A VENETIAN GONDOLA. 15 
 
 city, and even its necessary noise is tempered by the 
 surroundings. The only vehicles of passenger or 
 goods service are the boats, which make hardly more 
 disturbance for the ear than a fish passing over the 
 same route. 
 
 Every sound and when the city awakes she is 
 capable of many sounds proceeds from the voices 
 of individuals, or the whirr of the sacred doves that 
 are fed by thousands at all hours in the Piazza of 
 St. Mark. The seller of various wares seems to feel 
 that it is incumbent upon him to mock the echoes of 
 the winding labyrinths over which one may stroll 
 dryshod. 
 
 The boatmen themselves, when there is a possible 
 occasion,- cry out to each other in weird tones, espe- 
 cially at narrow intersections of the side canals, to 
 prevent collision with craft approaching silently 
 from beyond the stone and brick of a corner. Be- 
 sides, in protest of the natural stillness of their city, 
 they quarrel for hours in front of the principal ho- 
 tels, with as much effect as a parcel of highly-plumed 
 birds in an African forest. But for these things 
 Venice would be as quiet as the schoolroom in which 
 the proverbial pin is about to drop, or as a graveyard 
 in a superstitious neighborhood. 
 
 At the morning hour when young Gilbert Gray 
 rode in his gondola under the fcialto these noises 
 had only faintly begun, and the delight he felt in his 
 excursion was correspondingly great. 
 
 He wanted the effect of solitude. With the gon- 
 dolier hidden from sight by his rearward position, 
 the boat seemed propelled by a sail or the force of a 
 tide. Until men have mastered the currents of the
 
 16 LOVE GONE ASTRAT 
 
 upper air, and can voyage whither they please in the 
 ether, there will be no effect so nearly like it as to 
 float on the bosom of a Venetian canal. 
 
 The drift adown the current of a river does not 
 give the same impression, for there is a tiresome row 
 in prospect before the starting point can be regained. 
 No boat propelled by machinery, even the tidy little 
 naptha launch, equals it, for the noise of the wheels 
 cannot entirely be deadened and the smell of the 
 chemicals waft themselves in spite of all precaution 
 to the nostrils. The trimmest yacht may give more 
 excitement as she skims bird-like across the waters 
 of the sea, but she does not lull the senses and trans- 
 port the dreamer into another world, from which he 
 may return at pleasure. 
 
 Only the gondola does this. 
 
 Why did Gilbert Gray wish for solitude ? He was 
 twenty years of age, and in the possession of perfect 
 health. Most youths like him would have irked the 
 stillness of the canals and welcomed joyfully the first 
 signs of that noisier awakening that would come 
 with the sunrise. 
 
 Gilbert was sentimental. The strangeness of the 
 situation gave him a real delight. He lay back in 
 the comfortable seat, stretched his legs and gave 
 himself up to reverie. His brain dwelt on the poetic 
 quality of this peculiar place. Its history, of which 
 he had read much, passed slowly through his mind. 
 He wished he had lived some centuries earlier to 
 have seen these islands when the argosies of the 
 whole world came there with treasures of distant 
 lands, and when St. Mark's environs held a gorgeous 
 pageant from one year's end to another's.
 
 IN A VENETIAN GONDOLA. 17 
 
 To enjoy Venice thoroughly one must precipitate 
 himself into that dead and buried past, for to-day 
 only the shadow of the mighty substance is left. 
 
 The young man had watched the litter of lazzaroni 
 leaning from stately balconies. He saw that decay 
 had fastened upon the vitals of this glorious creature, 
 on whose breast he had been permitted, too late, to 
 rest his head. To appreciate Venice he must forget 
 the present. 
 
 The morning hour, just before the sun comes out 
 of the Adriatic, is the best time for this. 
 
 The Grand Canal is some hundreds of feet in width 
 during the major part of its course. The intersect- 
 ing "streets" are seldom more than twenty. When 
 an hour had passed, and the sun was peeping over 
 the rosy tints of the east, the passenger lifted a hand 
 without turning in his seat and intimated that he 
 would vary his course by entering one of the side 
 streams. He nodded, still without turning, when the 
 boatman said " Piccola ?" in an interrogative tone. 
 They understood each other very well, and with a 
 sweep of the long oar, that bore no apparent relation 
 to the effect it gave, the Italian turned his prow in 
 the direction indicated, and with another sent his 
 barque between the high ranges of buildings that 
 bordered the " rio." 
 
 The light encroaching on the outer world had lit- 
 tle effect, as yet, on these secluded passages. The 
 undisturbed quality of the voyage was, if anything, 
 improved by the change. So little prospect was 
 there of another gondola approaching from the oppo- 
 site direction that Gilbert's boatman forgot to utter 
 his usual cry at the doubtful corners.
 
 18 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 The intersecting canals, that seemed to offer a 
 succession of impossible turns for the long craft, 
 proved equal to its passage in the skillful manipula- 
 tion of the rower, whose art was little less than mar- 
 velous. He found plenty of room where none was 
 visible, not even grazing the walls with either end of 
 his boat, and all without the least apparent effort. 
 
 If anything was needed to make the young Ameri- 
 can certain he had passed from earth to Fairyland 
 the magic perfection of these difficult passages suf- 
 ficed. Under numerous little arched bridges he 
 floated, and when at last he emerged upon the 
 Grand Canal he uttered the word he had heard 
 " Piccola," and was immediately rowed again into a 
 succession of the minor ones. 
 
 Finally the march of the early morning began to 
 have its effect in various ways. Through windows 
 women could be seen preparing breakfasts. Other 
 gondoliers came, rowing sleepily toward the centres 
 from which passengers might be expected. Market 
 boats, loaded high with the brightest tomatoes, cab- 
 bages, potatoes and fruit appeared. Young people 
 were seen, as the public squares were passed, going 
 to labor. Beggars thought it not too early to ply 
 their trade the most flourishing and perhaps the 
 most lucrative in Venice. Shutters were taken down 
 from dingy shops, and goods arranged to beguile the 
 expected customer. Services in the churches, of 
 which the city boasts more than a hundred, attracted 
 those who had the time and inclination for them. 
 
 The city was awakening. Gilbert Gray's beauti- 
 ful dream was being spoiled. He roused himself 
 with impatience, for he would have preferred that
 
 m A VENETIAN GONDOLA. 19 
 
 the reverie had gone on for some hours longer. The 
 morning had been slightly chilly, for the date was 
 late in October, but the warmly dressed youth had 
 experienced no discomfort. The mercury was now 
 mounting, slowly but surely, and the less fortunate 
 Venetians, who had no means to purchase fuel, were 
 crawling out into the sunshine like a species of lizard. 
 There were months before them of colder nights 
 than these, and they had not yet begun to grumble. 
 The very poor are your true fatalists, and the more 
 ignorant of these people knew, though they might 
 not have been able to put it into words, that " what 
 must be must be." 
 
 Somewhat sulkily Gray signaled to his boatman 
 that he would return to the waters of the Grand 
 Canal. If Venice was indeed awake, she would look 
 better, he thought, from that point. The main 
 street of the city repaid him for the change, in the 
 glowing colors reflected from her palace walls, as the 
 glints of the sun came in contact with the shades 
 that art and time have combined to render lovely. 
 
 Other foreigners were out now, as well as himself, 
 taking what they thought a very early view of the 
 city. He marked the various types of tourists and 
 looked rather longer than was quite polite at a party 
 of young girls, chaperoned by a sour-faced and el- 
 derly female. That they were English he made sure 
 by the glowing color of their cheeks, as well as by 
 the peculiar fashion of their hair and the demureness 
 of their demeanor. 
 
 Then his attention was attracted by an Italian 
 girl, hardly more than fifteen years of age, who 
 wielded the forward oar in a boat that transported
 
 20 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 baskets of coal from one of the steamers to the 
 shore. The girl was strikingly pretty, with the dark 
 hair and eyes of her race ; and there was a freedom 
 in the way she moved her arms that would have 
 given pleasure to a painter. She apparently boasted 
 but one garment, a calico printed gown that came 
 only to her knees and was loosely fastened at the 
 breast. The lower portion of her brown legs was en- 
 tirely uncovered and the skirt blew in perfect free- 
 dom about the upper parts. She wore no hat, and 
 her hair hung in a careless braid to the level of her 
 waist. 
 
 The girl returned Gilbert's interested look, finding 
 him quite as well worth noting as he found her, and 
 they were apparently trying to decide which should 
 outstare the other when a short, crisp word from the 
 master of her boat called her attention to her work. 
 With a farewell glance that expressed regret as 
 plainly as any formed sentence, the child bent her 
 young energies with redoubled strength to the oar 
 and did not look again in Gray's direction. 
 
 " How pretty these Italian girls always are !" he 
 murmured to himself. " And why is it that they 
 grow so soon into ugly, wrinkled, sallow-faced old 
 hags? Does Nature punish them for having taken 
 more than their share in infancy ? To think this 
 sprite will look, thirty years from now, like that crone 
 who waits on the riva, ready to swindle a soldo from 
 me if I carry out my purpose of landing on her 
 piratical territory !" 
 
 At the risk of paying the tribute, however, the 
 American motioned to his gondolier that he wished 
 to reach the shore, and a few moments later he stood
 
 IN A VENETIAN GONDOLA. 21 
 
 upon the marble steps that face the Pillars. After 
 settling in a more than liberal way with the boatman, 
 and seeing the unfailing shrug of dissatisfaction that 
 cabbies of all nations are wont to use, no matter 
 what they are paid, he put a silver piece of small 
 value into the woman's outstretched hand and 
 turned to see if the pretty child in the coal boat had 
 disappeared from view. There she was, pushing 
 with all her strength at her oar, her face turned from 
 him, the print gown blowing about her shapely legs, 
 having forgotten already, no doubt, that such a 
 young man as he existed. 
 
 Slightly piqued he took a few steps up the walk, 
 turned to look at her again and then dismissed her 
 from his mind. Though there was at least five years 
 differen.ee in their ages, it would have been a pleas- 
 ure had he found her stealing a covert glance in his 
 direction. Such are the sentiments of a young fellow 
 of twenty, more often than one might think, and 
 there was nothing in this hero of ours to take him 
 out of the common in this particular. 
 
 The three hours that he had been out of bed, made 
 Gray quite ready for a cup of coffee and a roll, even 
 though so much of the time had been spent in dream- 
 ing. As he walked briskly toward the Piazza, he 
 saw that a pall of murky clouds hung over the city, 
 broken here and there by the rising sun, as if the ele- 
 ments were masquerading in clothes for which they 
 had no use. 
 
 All at once young Gray's eyes encountered an ob- 
 ject that took his attention from the firmament and 
 brought it solidly to the earth at his feet. Lying at 
 the base of the column that bears upon its summit
 
 22 LOVE GONE ASTBAT. 
 
 the bearded lion of St. Mark, was a man of but little 
 more than his own age, dressed in garments that 
 showed him to be no native of Venice, and that also 
 indicated the unlikelihood of his being in the habit 
 of selecting the pavement for his bed. The figure 
 was in a very deep slumber, and the face so covered 
 by one of the arms, the other being used as a head- 
 rest, that the features could not be distinguished. 
 
 Gilbert paused and gazed for some minutes at the 
 recumbent form, not willing to leave it there, and 
 yet uncertain whether he had either the right or the 
 inclination to disturb a sleep that, whatever else 
 might be said of it, was apparently refreshing and 
 grateful to its owner. 
 
 Several passers paused to join the onlooker, and 
 then went their ways with a laugh. A cloud of 
 pigeons flew over from the Piazza and alighted 
 near him, in expectation of a handful of corn, to be 
 had of itinerant venders at three cents a package. 
 Half absently Gray bought some grain and took up 
 the time in scattering it on the ground. It gave him 
 an excuse for staying in the neighborhood. 
 
 The story of the Samaritan came into his head, and 
 he was neither a priest nor a Levite. If the man on 
 the stones needed any little help he would be glad 
 to give it to him. It was not likely he had selected 
 that hard bed from choice. Still Gilbert had a hesi- 
 tation about interfering with the business of other 
 people. Perhaps he would be not only unthanked 
 but insulted if he took this sleeper by the arm and 
 shook him into wakefulness. 
 
 An idea occurred as the outgrowth of what he was 
 doing. He could let the pigeons awake the slum-
 
 IN A VENETIAN GONDOLA. 23 
 
 berer, and it would then be easy to see whether any- 
 thing further was advisable. 
 
 Scattering the maize slowly, Gray saw the birds 
 devour it as hungrily as if they and their ancestors 
 had not been fed hourly for more than a thousand 
 years within a hundred feet of that spot. Stray 
 grains that he threw lit upon the coat and then upon 
 the hat of the sleeper, bringing the pigeons without 
 delay to the same localities, with the fearlessness 
 that centuries have bred in these pets of Venice. 
 
 Presently a dozen of the feathered things were 
 perched upon the figure of the prostrate man, pecking 
 greedily for every grain that could be found ; and 
 still he slept on. It was only when one of the birds 
 flying from above, lit on the rim of the soft hat, and 
 came with a great flapping of wings into his very 
 face, that the sleeper turned and made an involun- 
 tary motion to brush away the disturber. The re- 
 moval of the protecting arm allowed the sunlight to 
 fall upon his eyelids, and the awakening that had 
 taken so long was accomplished. 
 
 " A-h-h !" he muttered, rousing himself into a 
 sitting posture, and stretching his stiff limbs. 
 
 After making which remark he sat up, and with 
 his back against the column of St. Mark, looked 
 around. 
 
 The Palace of the Doges, the Church of San 
 Marco, and the rows of shops opposite, impressed 
 themselves upon his vision. Then the doves, and 
 last of all, young Mr. Gray. 
 
 " A-h-h !" he said again. 
 
 He reached his hand toward a pocket of his vest, 
 and finding neither watch nor chain there he said
 
 24 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 " Ah !** for the third time and began to get upon his 
 feet. 
 
 "What time is it ?" he asked, yawning, and Gray, 
 delighted that the conversation had thus begun, 
 responded that it was between seven and eight 
 o'clock. 
 
 The man spoke English, and was apparently a 
 native of the British Isles. 
 
 " Eight o'clock !" he replied, incredulously. 
 
 " Why, it was after ten when " He paused and 
 
 contracted his eyebrows. " Confound it ! I believe 
 I've slept here all night !" 
 
 This looked so probable that the person to whom 
 it was addressed only answered witli a smiling nod. 
 He had " sized up " the sleeper rapidly during the 
 last minute. The movement toward the watch that 
 had disappeared told its own story. Hard luck of 
 some kind had caused the owner of the timepiece to 
 part with it. 
 
 The clothes of the sleeper were of good cut, and 
 they had not suffered seriously from contact with a 
 dry and reasonably clean pavement. He brushed 
 off the dust with care and then stretched himself 
 again. 
 
 "If you will excuse the liberty in a stranger," said 
 Gray, " I was just going to get some coffee ; would 
 you like to accompany me ?'' 
 
 The Englishman cast a quick look of suspicion at 
 the speaker, and then tried to conceal his action. 
 
 " I suppose I am a curiosity to you," said he 
 bluntly, "and such I must, at least for the present, 
 remain. It would be folly to pretend that I selected 
 this place for my nap on account of its comfort. It
 
 IN A VRNETIAN GONDOLA. 25 
 
 was merely a matter of eligibility. I did not have a 
 centessimo in my pocket. I could not pawn my 
 watch or chain, or diamond pin, or rings, because I 
 had none. My very linen is held as security for rent 
 I cannot pay. With these statements I leave you to 
 say whether you still wish my company, or whether 
 you would rather hand me a lira, as yon would to 
 any other mendicant, and let me go." 
 
 All the generosity in Gilbert Gray's heart forbade 
 the acceptance of the latter proposition. The man 
 had told him nothing but what he already suspected. 
 He replied quick'y that his invitation still held good, 
 and that he trusted all disagreeable subjects would 
 be banished from the slight refreshment of which 
 they were to partake. 
 
 "Very well/' was the reply, as they walked along 
 toward Florian's. " I will go with pleasure, all the 
 greater as it is twenty-four hours since I tasted 
 food." 
 
 To the exclamation which greeted this announce- 
 ment the stranger added, " Oh, that is nothing. If I 
 were at liberty to tell you let me say only this : I 
 have been robbed. My enemies have outwitted me, 
 and as you see they have left me in a rather disagree- 
 able plight ; but my courage is still good, and when 
 my turn comes I shall pay them back with interest." 
 
 "What may I call you?" asked Gilbert, handing 
 his new acquaintance his card, as they seated them 
 selves at one of the tables. 
 
 " I shall have to refuse you my true name for the 
 present," was the reply. " I am traveling incog. 
 But, for the purpose of conversation, you may call 
 me Mr. Neiling Mr. William Neiling."
 
 26 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE STRANGE MR. NEILING. 
 
 MR. WILLIAM NEILING shamed the pigeons in the 
 square by the avidity with which he devoured the 
 light meal that was soon before him. He was finish- 
 ing the second cup of coffee he had poured from the 
 generous pot, and commencing on his third roll 
 when an idea occurred to Mr. Gray. 
 
 " Would you mind," he said, " if I ordered some 
 eggs for you along with my own ? I am not yet used 
 to continental breakfasts and find need of something 
 rather more substantial between morning and noon." 
 
 Mr. Neiling laughed. 
 
 " I should certainly like the eggs," he answered, 
 " and for the sake of them will pardon the disingen- 
 uousness of your invitation. Ask the waiter to make 
 it three, if you please. Eating once a day has its 
 drawbacks, but it certainly conduces to a healthy ap- 
 petite." 
 
 The manner in which the stranger received his new 
 friend's advances made it easy to get on comfortable 
 terms with him, and the stiffness that had crept into 
 Gilbert's manner rapidly disappeared. 
 
 "You are an early riser, it seems," commented 
 Neiling, when there came a suitable point into which 
 to throw the remark. 
 
 ' I was in a gondola at four o'clock," replied Gray, 
 with a blush, partly of pride.
 
 THE STRANGE MB. NEJUNG. 27 
 
 " Indeed ! And what did you want at that un- 
 earthly hour ?" 
 
 "Only to see Venice in her greatest quiet." 
 
 And then he went on, somewhat lamely, to give 
 the impressions he had formed before the sun rose, 
 and warming as he proceeded, detailed the sights 
 and sounds of that half-nocturnal journey. 
 
 It was clear that this was a chord to which Mr. 
 Neiling could not respond. He laughed a little, 
 from time to time, and shook his head as if to say he 
 saw no pleasure in that kind of a trip ; quite good- 
 naturedly, but with no attempt to sacrifice truth to 
 politeness. 
 
 " You are evidently a sentimentalist," he said. " I 
 suppose you read Byron and Shelley, and that sort 
 of thing.'" 
 
 " I adore them !" was the enthusiastic reply. 
 
 " And do you write verses yourself ?" asked Neil- 
 ing, quizzically. 
 
 " No. It almost seems as if I could, though. I 
 feel all a poet's ardor, without confidence enough to 
 express it. I think there is no place so poetic as 
 these watery streets, anywhere on the globe." 
 
 " Mr. Neiling responded that he had found the 
 streets of Venice very wet, and the gondola a slow 
 and unsatisfactory vehicle. Even when he had 
 money in his purse he said it took an unconscionable 
 time to get anywherein one of those silly contrivances. 
 When he had not a soldo and his course led up and 
 down over the flights of stairs called bridges, an 
 hour's walk was as tiresome as three in a sensible 
 English town. 
 
 <v But the skies !" remarked Gray with enthusiasm.
 
 28 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 ** Have you ever seen such beauty in the blending of 
 sea and air as there is at sunset ? I thought, before 
 I came here, that the painters had drawn on their 
 imaginations, but they do not depict half the reality. 
 And in the evening, when the singing parties go out 
 on the water, what a soul-stirring effect they produce ! 
 I had rather hear one of these boatloads of vocalists, 
 accompanied by their mandolins and zithers, than 
 the best opera in one of our home theatres, with a 
 hundred picked musicians in the orchestra." 
 
 "Would you, really 1" asked Mr. Neiling, who 
 seemed to find the statement most astonishing. He 
 said he had heard some of the singing, from a dis- 
 tance, and had not taken the trouble to go nearer. 
 As for the sky, he had not even noticed it, except to 
 speculate on the probability of rain. 
 
 " But what do you find worth seeing and hearing 
 in Venice, then ?" demanded Gray, pointedly. 
 
 " Nothing whatever," was the calm reply. " I 
 assure you I did not come here for any of the poetic 
 reasons you mention, nor shall I remain a day longer 
 than is necessary. I was lured to Venice by a busi- 
 ness affair, which has turned out, as you may guess, 
 very badly. I must remain, as far as I can see, till 
 funds arrive unless some trusting individual wants 
 to let me have a hundred francs with which to reach 
 Rome." 
 
 The suggestion was sufficiently pointed, and Gray 
 was glad it had been readied in that direct manner. 
 He wanted to aid this distressed young gentleman, 
 and he had not known how to press a loan upon him 
 without danger of giving offense. When he heard 
 the sum of one hundred francs mentioned, he bright-
 
 THE 8TRA.NGE MB. NEILIWG. 29 
 
 ened immediately and said it would please him to 
 lend the amount himself, or twice as much, if equally 
 agreeable. 
 
 " We shall not quarrel even over the latter propo- 
 sition," smiled Neiling. " If you can spare the money 
 it is liable to come in conveniently before I hear from 
 my people. To get to Rome to-morrow will be of 
 great value to the business I have in hand, and a few 
 francs extra in the pocket is not a bad thing when 
 one is hundreds of miles from his natural base of 
 supplies." 
 
 Mr. Gray promptly placed two notes for a hun- 
 dred francs or rather lire each on the table, and 
 suggested that as a train started toward Rome within 
 an hour, he would not detain his acquaintance over 
 any formalities. 
 
 " But," laughed Neiling, folding up the notes, " I 
 can't go till to-morrow, for a very good reason. All 
 my linen requires laundering, and even the quick 
 laundries will need twenty-four hours' time. To go 
 to Rome witli soiled collars and cuffs is not to be 
 thought of. We are such slaves to these foolish cus- 
 toms ! No gentleman is strong enough to brave the 
 edict which ordains that he must wear a starched 
 shirt. I will leave you, as you suggest, but only for 
 the sake of putting my underclothing in communi- 
 cation with a laundress. Being now able to satisfy 
 the insatiate claims of my landlord, I shall be allowed, 
 I presume, to remain in my room to-night, instead 
 of resting at the foot of St. Mark's statue. And to- 
 morrow, in all the glory of a clean coiiar and pol- 
 ished boots I will make a descent upon Rome, which
 
 30 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 I hope will be as effective, if not as terrorizing, as 
 that of the more ancient barbarians." 
 
 Gray was sorry to have the important business 
 that evidently awaited Mr. Neiling, postponed so 
 long, but he saw no way to evade the points raised, 
 and after going with him as far as the Piazzetta, he 
 bade him farewell. 
 
 It is certainly more blessed to give than to receive. 
 Mr. Gray felt all the happiness of one who has re- 
 lieved distress at no real cost to his own comfort. 
 It was as easy for him to lend those two hundred lire, 
 as to feed the pigeons in the Piazza, with the little 
 packages of corn that cost three cents, American 
 money, each. And the result was so pleasant ! He 
 wondered, as he strolled back to his hotel on the 
 Grand Canal, why such a fuss was made over char- 
 ity, and why the least undeserved suffering was 
 allowed to exist. 
 
 That evening he walked for some time in the 
 Piazza. The arcaded marble palaces that form 
 three sides of the square were filled with a brilliant 
 throng, moving to and fro, or sitting in front of the 
 restaurants attending to the wants of the inner man. 
 From the coffee rooms bright faces beamed upon the 
 spectacle. Over St. Mark's Church the remnant of a 
 broken moon hung in glory in the deep azure, sur- 
 rounded by a queenly train of stars, faintly distin- 
 guishable. To the right the Palace of Doges, eter- 
 nally beautiful in its unparalleled grace, took on the 
 tints of the numerous lights ; while the giant Cam- 
 panile, always a blot upon tjie symmetry of the sur- 
 roundings, rose coarse and powerful, to dwarf all 
 other structures near.
 
 THE STRANGE MB. NEILING. 31 
 
 A hundred gondolas were moored beyond the 
 Pillars, each one casting a shadow as black as itself 
 upon the ineffable blue on which it rode. Throngs 
 of strollers passed, wearing the variegated costumes 
 one always finds in this minor gateway of the East. 
 
 No one was still, for a moment. Out of the Mer- 
 ceria the crowds came and into it other crowds re- 
 turned. Movement, movement ! It was all so 
 adapted to time and place ! A touch more of light 
 would have ruined everything. Gilbert Gray knew 
 that he stood in the human centre of all that's 
 rythmic to the ear and eye. 
 
 When the crowd finally dispersed, Gray did not 
 find himself inclined to go indoors. He went to 
 look at the Bay again, and finally engaged a gondo- 
 lier to row him out toward the Lagoon. 
 
 As the boatman was engaged by the hour it made 
 no difference to him that his passenger had no par- 
 ticular destination. Indeed, it was rather pleasing to 
 find in the course of time that the American was 
 fast asleep on the comfortable seat. The last thing 
 Gilbert had seen was the beautiful city under the 
 deep blue of a sky lit by the stars alone, the 
 broken moon having gone to rest below the horizon. 
 When the beauty of morning came again he experi- 
 enced anew the pleasure of finding Venice asleep 
 and witnessing her awakening. 
 
 A little earlier than on the previous day he dis- 
 missed his gondola and went to Florian's for his 
 coffee. Something to his surprise he found his 
 English friend already there, partaking of as sub- 
 stantial a meal as the house could furnish. 
 
 "I found I could catch the first train," explained
 
 32 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 Neiling, who looked far less like a man who had had 
 a good night's sleep than the other. " So I'm off. 
 By-the-way," he added, with a kind of arrogance 
 in his manner, " I had the luck to get part of my 
 money back, and you can have those two hundred 
 lire if you want them." 
 
 He took out a substantial fistful of paper bills as 
 he spoke, and held them up to view. It was easy to 
 see that there were several thousand francs in the 
 pile, and Gray stared very hard in his surprise. 
 
 " Two hundred lire doesn't look much in such 
 company as that, does it ?" said Neiling, almost 
 fiercely. If I had had this yesterday I wouldn't 
 have asked a crust of bread from a stranger, 
 would I ?" 
 
 He crushed the mass of paper into one of his 
 pockets as he spoke, and swallowed the remaining 
 coffee in his cup at a draft. 
 
 " I told you I had been robbed," added the Eng- 
 lishman, wiping his mouth on his napkin with a 
 brusque movement. " Well, last night, after I left 
 you, I got on the track of the robbers. This," tap- 
 ping his pocket, " is the result. When I get at them 
 again there will be a still better story to tell !" 
 
 Gray gazed at the speaker helplessly. 
 
 " But I don't understand why you should leave 
 Venice, now," he said. " You ought to stay, I 
 should think, and fight them here. If you know 
 where they are, the police could help you. How 
 can you do anything by going to Rome ?" 
 
 A silent laugh played around the Englishman's 
 mouth. 
 
 " They have affiliations in Rome, too," said he.
 
 "I COULD LEND YOU FIFTY THOUSAND.* 5 " 33 
 
 *' And in Florence. And in Naples* And in every 
 large city of Europe." 
 
 He gathered up a strap that held a handbag, and 
 rested the weight on one shoulder, prepared to start 
 toward the station. 
 
 "Your watch and and chain," stammered Gray. 
 " Have you recovered them, too?" 
 
 " I know where they are !" replied Neiling, with 
 another of his strange smiles. " But I must take one 
 of those cursed gondolas and be off. Good-bye." 
 
 The Englishman disappeared with this abrupt sal- 
 utation ; and it was half an hour later when it 
 occurred to young Mr. Gray that the loan of two 
 hundred lire had not been returned, and that neither 
 he nor Neiling possessed the other's postoffice ad- 
 dress. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 "I COULD LEND YOU FIFTY THOUSAND.** 
 
 THE reader must have come to the conclusion by 
 this time that Mr. William Neiling was a very pecu- 
 liar gentleman, and the author does not indite this 
 paragraph for the purpose of disputing that fact. 
 An English solicitor, named Darius Yates, who was 
 spending a brief vacation at the Grand Hotel and 
 who made Gray's acquaintance across the table, said 
 when he heard the outline of the story, that it was
 
 34 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 certainly remarkable. Gray happened to tell it to 
 him on the evening following Neiling's departure, 
 and Yates showed the deepest interest in the trans- 
 action. 
 
 " Neiling, did you say ?" be repeated, as if trying 
 to remember where, if ever, he had heard the name. 
 
 "Yes," said Gray. "But I understood distinctly 
 that it was a title assumed for the occasion." 
 
 " Very likely," nodded the solicitor. " What sort 
 of looking man was he, now ?" 
 
 " Rather thick-set, broad-shouldered, not quite as 
 tall as I." Mr. Gray stood something l&e five feet 
 nine in his stockings. He was twenty-five years old, 
 perhaps, had sandy hair, with a small moustache, 
 and was well dressed." 
 
 To each of these points Mr. Yates gave an answer- 
 ing nod. He did not act, however, as if they awoke 
 any memory. 
 
 "The main point is that your two hundred francs 
 are gone," he said, smiling. 
 
 Mr. Yates had a smile that was most agreeable. 
 It was this smile that had attracted Gray to him 
 when he first saw him on the other side of the table. 
 
 " Oh, that is nothing," was the reply. " He evi- 
 dently forgot to give it to me, for he had it in his 
 hand, along with many times as much, when he was 
 hurrying to get his train. I shall run across him 
 somewhere, and if I don't it won't matter. It is 
 only forty dollars in American money, you know." 
 
 Mr. Yates smiled again. 
 
 "That's a distinctly American way of putting it," 
 said he. " Now, to an Englishman, forty dollars 
 let's see, that's eight pounds is a matter for decided
 
 " I COULD LEND YOU FIFTY THOUSAND." 35 
 
 interest, on all occasions. I have a client, or I might 
 say a friend, from your country, who is spending a 
 good deal of time in Europe, largely on account of 
 his daughter. I understand he started life without a 
 penny, and now he's as rich as you please. The con- 
 tempt with which he talks of pounds, shillings and 
 pence, is enough to make one's blood run cold. I've 
 seen him hand a half-sovereign to a blind beggar. 
 He told me once he wouldn't take change from a 
 newsboy, if he had nothing to give him for a Times 
 but a five-pound note !" 
 
 "Oh, but I'm not like that," answered Gilbert. 
 " I haven't the money to do it with, in the first place. 
 My father left a very moderate fortune, and I've 
 only received enough for my education and ordinary 
 expenses. Mr. Blair that's my guardian is doing 
 Europe with me, on account of his health, which is 
 very bad. He's at Florence now, and I've run over 
 here alone for a few days because the doctors don't 
 think it best for him to come to the shore. He's 
 quite a different man from the one you speak of. He 
 counts all his pennies, I assure vou, and he's made a 
 handsome pile doing it. I don't think he'd at all 
 approve of my lending forty dollars to a stranger, 
 but what's mine's my own, as the saying is." 
 
 From that Gilbert went on, in the open way that 
 was a part of his nature, to talk about his affairs. 
 He had been an orphan from his thirteenth year. 
 Abel Blair had taken the place of a parent to him, 
 and when the doctors ordered the foreign trip Gil- 
 bert had been asked to join, partly for his own good 
 and partly because the invalid needed some one with 
 him in his feeble condition. They had been abroad
 
 3(5 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 now for over six months, and expected to remain at 
 least another year, if Mr Blair lived so long. The 
 best physicians had said to Gilbert, in confidence, that 
 to go back to America would be to hasten the end. 
 It was only by a succession of new scenes that Mr. 
 Blair could hope to survive a twelvemonth. 
 
 This they did not intimate to the sick man, but 
 gave him the hopes with which it is thought right to 
 delude the dying. When he was not absolutely on 
 his back he thought he was improving, and plans for 
 entering his counting-room on his return home were 
 constantly in his mind. 
 
 Mr. Yates was one of those pleasant fellows that a 
 good talker always rejoices to meet ; one of those 
 men who have acquired the admirable art of listen- 
 ing to any story as if they found it of all things the 
 most delightful. In truth, he was glad to meet this 
 young chap in a hotel where every one was a stran- 
 ger to him, and to while away an occasional hour by 
 listening to his conversation. When a telegram came 
 from Florence, a few days later, asking Gray to 
 come there as soon as was convenient, the solicitor 
 parted from him with real regret, and mutual hopes 
 were expressed that the chances of life would throw 
 them together at some future date. 
 
 Little did either imagine how close would be the 
 relations of which this accidental meeting was a 
 prelude. 
 
 Mr. Blair, who had had an ill turn, was already bet- 
 ter when Gilbert arrived, and propped up in his bed, 
 listened with eagerness to descriptions of the lovely 
 "Bride of the Adriatic," from which his young 
 friend had come. He smiled at the thought that the
 
 "l COULD LEND YOU FIFTY THOUSAND." 37 
 
 following spring would open these delectable visions 
 to his own eyes. As the weather grew colder he 
 meant to go to Rome and Naples perhaps to Mes- 
 sina and Malta and take in Venice when the balmy 
 airs of April revisited her shores. 
 
 "And by autumn I ought to resume business 
 again," was the way the invalid always ended a 
 recital of his schemes. 
 
 The medicine of expectation did its work once 
 more, and in a few days Gilbert could be spared 
 from constant attendance at the bedside. He was 
 glad to breathe the outer air again, for the confine- 
 ment told on his health and spirits. He climbed the 
 hills around Florence, both on foot and horseback, 
 and wandered anew through the country that lay 
 beyond. . He visited the Pitti and Ufizzi palaces, to 
 which he had previously devoted some weeks, never 
 tiring of the art treasures there displayed. In short, 
 he drank in Florence with a pleasure second only to 
 that with which he had imbibed Venice, and was 
 in no haste for the day when the state of his guard- 
 ian's health would compel him to leave. 
 
 About the middle of December, however, a 
 change to Rome was decided upon, and Mr. Blair, 
 now quite able to walk about, was full of expectancy 
 over the sights that were soon to be his. There is 
 something in the very name of that great Capital 
 which affects most travellers, whether their chief 
 interest centres in ancient or modern splendors. 
 
 After arriving Mr. Blair took his daily ride to 
 objects of interest and astonished his young friend 
 at the strength and endurance he displayed. Gilbert 
 began to think the idea of a full recovery might not
 
 38 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 be a fiction, after all ; but he cautioned the sick man 
 against too great exertion, and succeeded in keeping 
 him within reasonable bounds. 
 
 " I feel able to walk a mile," was the expression 
 with which the merchant alighted from his carriage 
 on each return to his hotel, after a stroll through the 
 churches and museums. 
 
 In the evening, being wholly free, Mr. Gray used to 
 wander out among the ruins of the old city, taking 
 especial delight in visiting the Colosseum and view- 
 ing it in the splendor of the full moon's rays. Creep- 
 ing among its arches he carried his mind back to the 
 dead past, when this gigantic pleasure house of pain 
 was filled with multitudes of people, hanging breath- 
 less over the terrible scenes enacted at their feet. 
 And here one night he met, for the third time, the 
 man he had rescued in Venice. The surprise was 
 mutual. 
 
 "Still fond of night prowling, I see?" said Neil- 
 ing, quizzically. 
 
 " You cannot criticise me for what you are your- 
 self doing," was the good-natured reply. 
 
 "Oh, but I only came because I find it difficult to 
 sleep, and thought I should be quite alone here." 
 
 " Do you never think of the contests between men 
 and animals that have gone on in that arena !" ex- 
 claimed Gilbert, waving his hand toward it. 
 
 " Never." 
 
 *' Nor of the Christian martyrs who have met death 
 there !" 
 
 " Certainly not. I have no time to think of suCi. 
 sublime idiocy, and I don't believe more than half 
 that is written about those ancient days. All
 
 "l COULD LEND YOU FIFTY THOUSAZTD." 39 
 
 so-called history is filled with wild improbabilities. 
 Of course I suppose they had some fights here and 
 some Christians eaten, but not a hundredth part as 
 many as you probably imagine. At any rate, what- 
 ever took place was for the mutual pleasure and sat- 
 isfaction of all concerned, and there is no reason to 
 find fault with it at this late date." 
 
 With the horrors he had dreamed of still ringing 
 in his head, Mr. Gray demanded an explanation of 
 these assertions. 
 
 "Why," said Neiling, "the gladiators, so-called, 
 were criminals whose death was decided upon in 
 some form. They had been guilty, usually, of mak- 
 ing war against a superior force, and, according to 
 the old custom, would have been butchered without 
 mercy,, perhaps with preliminary torture, if they had 
 not been sent here. With a sword in his hand one 
 of these men died a thousand times as happily as if 
 delivered to the shambles in another way. While his 
 blood was hot in his veins he hardly felt the stroke 
 that ended his misery. They gave him the privilege 
 of dying like a man, instead of like a brute, and at 
 the same time the populace were taught a valuable 
 lesson of the power of government to punish its 
 enemies. As for the lions and leopards and that 
 sort of thing, I don't suppose you need a homily on 
 the advantage of getting them out of the way.'' 
 
 The listener looked incredulous. He had heard 
 one of those arguments that do not convince, how- 
 ever strong the logic may appear to be. 
 
 "But the martyrs ?" he asked. 
 
 "The most perfectly contented people imagin- 
 able," was the cool reply. " According to their
 
 40 LOVE GONE A8TRAT. 
 
 doctrine they were going straight to eternal bliss the 
 moment the animals got fairly to dining. You or I 
 would seize their chance this minute if we were sure 
 the bargain would be carried out. They were satis- 
 fied. The spectators were pleased. There was really 
 no one in the whole affair who had the slightest right 
 to complain." 
 
 It was a strange statement, and somehow Gray did 
 not believe his companion meant it to be taken in 
 earnest. 
 
 44 1 hope you found that business of yours all right 
 the matter you mentioned at Venice," said Gray, 
 tentatively, as they passed along the streets. 
 
 " I should say so !" was the warm reply. " Not 
 only did I recover all I had lost, but a great deal 
 more. I could lend you fifty thousand lire to-night, 
 on good security, and not incommode myself in the 
 least." 
 
 As Gray had no wish to borrow he did not accept 
 the opportunity. It occurred to him that Mr. Neil- 
 ing might propose to refund the old loan, but it 
 seemed preposterous to suggest such a thing to a 
 gentleman who boasted such present possessions. As 
 he walked along he also noticed several rings of no 
 small value on his companion's fingers, and when the 
 clocks began to strike, Mr. Neiling drew out an 
 elegant gold watch, with the remark that it was well 
 to have an accurate timepiece in a place where no 
 two of those on the churches agreed with each other. 
 
 "I don't suppose I shall be likely to meet you 
 again," said Mr. Gray, politely, when they came to 
 a point where their paths diverged. 
 
 " I don't know as to that," said Neiling, with an
 
 "I COULD LEND YOU FIFTY THOUSAND. 4 
 
 abruptness that seemed habitual to him. " I am go- 
 ing away in a day or two, but you may see me some- 
 where, if you stay in Europe. I shall dance attend- 
 ance in these parts, at one place and another, the rest 
 of the winter, I suppose." 
 
 " My home address is on the card I gave you at 
 Venice if you still have it," said Gray. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I still have it," replied Neiling. 
 
 " And," added Gilbert, into whose mind there kept 
 coming, in spite of him, the two hundred lire, " you 
 are not ready to tell me yet, I presume, your real 
 name." 
 
 Mr. Neiling reflected a moment. 
 
 " Not quite yet, he said presently. " My reasons 
 for preserving an incognito still exist. In a few 
 months I hope they will have disappeared. Good- 
 night." 
 
 Upon arriving at his hotel Gray was met by the 
 watchman with a very grave face. Mr Blair had 
 died suddenly, they told him, about an hour before.
 
 42 LOVE GONE A8TRAT. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 BECOMING A PAUPER. 
 
 DEATH is something for which, no matter how long 
 we may have looked upon it as imminent, we are 
 never prepared. The dead Mr. Blair was like a new 
 acquaintance, and entirely different from the living 
 Mr. Blair, whom Mr. Gray had come to know very 
 well. 
 
 All the young man could do was to carry out for 
 the dead Blair the wishes that had been expressed 
 by the living one, though he was not certain that the 
 latter had any right to dispose of the former without 
 his consent. It did not seem as if any man, dead or 
 alive, would desire to be bundled into a metallic cof- 
 fin and have the cover screwed down over his face 
 while he took a long sea voyage, and afterwards 
 elect to be put five feet deep in a trench, there to re- 
 main forever. 
 
 Yet these were the directions the living man had 
 given long before, when he had talked of the possi- 
 bilities which he did not believe would but which 
 now had occurred. And Mr. Gray saw no way but to 
 obey the behests of the voice that had spoken, since 
 the tongue could utter nothing more. 
 
 Although it was well into the winter the friends 
 living and dead took passage for the United States. 
 The interment was made in the corner of a cemetery 
 where other generations of Blairs had long since lain. 
 This matter disposed of, Mr. Gray was ready to listen
 
 BECOMING A PAUPEK. 48 
 
 to the statements of his guardian's executor, now be- 
 come by virtue of that position a person of peculiar 
 importance to him. 
 
 This executor was a lawyer named Israel Dibbs, 
 one of those methodical men who are selected 
 out of a community to manage the affairs of deceased 
 persons, under the impression that the Grim Messen- 
 ger will never lay his bony hand on them, and that 
 they will continue to collect rents and foreclose 
 mortgages for a thousand years or so after the testa- 
 tor is in his tomb. Mr. Dibbs sent for Gray at an 
 early date, with the information that there was a 
 provision for him in Mr. Blair's will. 
 
 " A provision for me !" exclaimed Gilbert. " Why, 
 I never thought of such a thing !" 
 
 Mr. Dibbs waited till this outburst was over, with 
 all the dignity of a wooden image, and then returned 
 to his text. 
 
 u Mr. Blair, now deceased, has made a provision 
 for you, sir," he reiterated. " By the terms of his 
 will his property is divided into two equal parts. 
 One half goes to various societies of a charitable 
 nature, which are enumerated. The other half is to 
 be held in trust for his nephew, Julius Margrave, if 
 he be living." 
 
 Having recourse to easy mental arithmetic Mr. 
 Gray was led to remark that the portion of Mr. 
 Blair's estate that was to come to himself, after the 
 disposition of two equal halves of it, must be rather 
 small. He said this with a smile, rather relieved 
 than otherwise. 
 
 " There is another provision of this will," said Mr. 
 Dibbs, waiting not only until his companion was
 
 44 LOVB OONE ASTEAT. 
 
 silent, but some twenty or thirty seconds longet, a 
 course of procedure calculated to impress the beholder 
 more than any form of words, " which is the one 
 directly affecting you. In the event that this nephew, 
 Julius Margrave, is not found within five years, or is 
 believed or known to be dead before that time, the 
 half of the estate that was to have gone to him 
 reverts to Mr. Gilbert Gray." 
 
 So this was the explanation ! Gilbert sat silent 
 now, a flood of sensations creeping over him. The 
 bequest which he did not imagine would ever 
 become his, under this condition showed a regard 
 for him in the heart of his guardian of a deeper 
 nature than he had ever suspected. 
 
 " What can you tell me about this Mr. Mr. " 
 
 he began. 
 
 " Margrave," uttered the precise voice of the law- 
 yer. " Almost nothing. A sister of Mr. Blair married 
 many years ago a man of that name, and dying left 
 a child this Julius. Between the husband and Mr. 
 Blair there existed little good feeling, and there was 
 no occasion to trouble himself about him after the 
 sister passed away. But when it came to making a 
 will, the trend of his mind led him to putting his 
 property or a goodly part of it where the law of 
 descent would naturally dictate. He had no other 
 relations, and he compromised with his feelings by 
 dividing the estate between these societies, in which 
 he has long taken an interest, and this nephew he had 
 never seen." 
 
 Gray nodded abstractedly. 
 
 " You will, of course, use every effort to find him," 
 he said.
 
 BECOMING A PAUPKB. 45 
 
 " I shall take the usual means of doing so," replied 
 the lawyer. " But I may say frankly that I do not 
 feel it my duty to send detectives to the four quar- 
 ters of the globe. Mr. Abel Blair was a gentleman 
 fairly well known in the commercial world. His 
 death abroad was telegraphed by the news agencies 
 to the principal papers. The public legacies he has 
 made have been mentioned in denominational organs 
 far and wide. His portrait, with a sketch of his 
 career, has already been arranged for in an illustrated 
 magazine. The Board of Trade and a score of cor- 
 porations in which he was interested have passed 
 resolutions on the subject of his decease, which have 
 been printed in the press. In addition to this I shall 
 insert advertisements in two principal journals, one 
 abroad and one here, every three months during the 
 years I am directed to wait. At the end of that 
 time, if nothing is heard, half of Mr. Blair's property 
 will belong to Gilbert Gray." 
 
 It was clear that the lawyer saw before him the 
 probable legatee, and that he had little expectation 
 of ever meeting the nephew mentioned in the will. 
 
 "I hope you may be wrong," said Gilbert, decid- 
 edly, feeling that he was in a sense robbing this Mr. 
 Margrave of his just dues, even by discussing a con- 
 tingency like the one suggested. " Mr. Blair evidently 
 meant to give this property to his sister's son, and 
 his wish must be considered sacred. As for myself, 
 with what I now have and what I shall be able to 
 earn, I see no need of this alternative bequest with 
 which my ever kind guardian has honored me." 
 
 Mr. Dibbs cleared his throat and adjusted his 
 spectacles, in a manner that implied much.
 
 46 LOVE GOKE ASTRAY. 
 
 " Do you know exactly what is your present finan* 
 cial standing ?" he asked, pointedly. 
 
 " No," replied Gray, " but I presume you, who 
 have Mr. Blair's accounts in your hands, can tell 
 me." 
 
 The lawyer bowed slowly, two or three times. 
 
 " I am afraid there is less than you think," he said. 
 " Your father's investments were not all of the first 
 order. He had debts which neither Mr. Blair nor 
 I, for I did the legal business knew about till some 
 time after his death. In short, he was a poor man 
 when the balance was drawn." 
 
 A line of paleness grew, in spite of him, around the 
 lips of the listener. He roused himself and, in a set 
 tone, demanded the figures. 
 
 "It is disagreeable to tell you this," said Mr. 
 Dibbs, " and that is why I prefaced it with informa- 
 tion about the contingent inheritance of your guard- 
 ian's large estate. There is no need of your going 
 on short commons, for with the probability that 
 you will, at the end of five years, come into posses- 
 sion " 
 
 The young man interrupted the speaker with a 
 rap of his hand on the table. 
 
 " Enough of that !" he cried. " How much is 
 there of my own property?" 
 
 The lawyer opened a memorandum book and read 
 off the figures slowly. 
 
 " Two hundred and seventy-eight dollars and 
 sixty-three cents." 
 
 There was a moment of angry pause, and then 
 Mr. Gray demanded, "What are you talking about ? 
 Do you mean to tell me that is all I have ?"
 
 BECOMING A PAUPER. 4:7 
 
 "That is all," said Mr. Dibbs, imperturbably. 
 
 " And where is the rest ?" exclaimed Gilbert, hotly. 
 " My father had bonds, stocks, real estate ! Do you 
 mean to say I have used up everything ? Why, my 
 expenses, even in Europe, were only three hundred 
 dollars a month ! I shall insist on an account, sir, 
 before I accept such figures as these !" 
 
 Not at all excited by the outburst, which he had 
 in fact expected, Mr. Dibbs proceeded to say that the 
 full account of every receipt and expense connected 
 with the estate of the late Mr. Gray was ready for 
 examination, and, he added, pointedly, it was all in 
 Mr. Blair's handwriting. 
 
 "As for the stocks and bonds," he continued, "if 
 you know anything about market values, I would like 
 to have you examine them at once. Here," drawing 
 out a tin box, " are shares in the Golden Crown 
 Lead Company, the Staten Island Tunnel, the " 
 
 " Never mind the list," interrupted Gray, for he 
 found his temper rising instead of abating, as is apt 
 to be the case with those proved in the wrong. " If 
 the account of my estate is in Mr. Blair's writing 
 mind, in his own hand I shall be satisfied, and will 
 look no further. There is another thing I do not un- 
 derstand, and that is why he has allowed me to spend 
 almost my last penny in idleness abroad instead of 
 telling me the worst and letting me get started in 
 some method of earning my living." 
 
 The reply which the lawyer gave to this only ex- 
 asperated the young man further. The sum he had 
 mentioned was the entire estate of the elder Gray, 
 and every dollar that Gilbert had received since his 
 father's death had come out of Mr. Blair's pocket.
 
 48 LOVE. GONE ASTBAY. 
 
 " He thought," explained Mr. Dibbs, " that as your 
 inheritance was too small to be of any use in starting 
 a business career it was as well for you to take some 
 months of foreign travel. As he had the benefit of 
 your society he was glad to defray the joint expense. 
 It was also, as I know, his intention, when he re- 
 turned (as he never lost faith he should do) to get 
 you into some good house where, by industry and 
 perseverance, you could make your own way." 
 
 For a moment the anger of the youth was turned 
 against his dead friend. That person had no right 
 to swindle him with false hopes which were sure to 
 be dashed to the ground. Then he turned again to 
 the lawyer. 
 
 " How soon can you have those accounts ready for 
 me to see ?" he asked, sharply. 
 
 "They are ready now." 
 
 "I don't want to examine them to-day. I will 
 come to-morrow. And whatever there is belonging 
 to me whether it be two hundred dollars or ten 
 cents I shall want to take with me." 
 
 "There will be a few legal preliminaries neces- 
 sary," explained Mr.' Dibbs, " as I am acting upon 
 the trust of another. It may require a month or two 
 I cannot tell exactly but in the meantime you can 
 have any reasonable sum you wish. It's not best to 
 be too hot-headed, young man. There is no harm 
 in borrowing money on which you are to pay interest, 
 and you might as well get it of me as of another." 
 
 Too disturbed to argue the matter at that time, 
 Gilbert could only ejaculate " To-morrow," and rid 
 himself as rapidly as possible of the hateful presence. 
 He walked down the wintry street with his brow
 
 BECOMING A PAUPER. 49 
 
 burning with fever. He was a pauper ! The knowl- 
 edge was very bitter. He had not expected to be 
 rich he had always supposed he would have to 
 work but he had never imagined that his patrimony 
 could shrink to these proportions. Mr. Blair had not 
 intimated anything that savored of such beggary. 
 And he had spent his guardian's money with a free 
 hand, believing it his own, and supposing that plenty 
 more lay in the vaults of the bank behind it. 
 
 As loudly as he had demanded to " see the ac- 
 count !" he had not doubted the correctness of Mr. 
 Dibbs' statements, for an instant. 
 
 "Two hundred dollars ! That meant a garret 
 and bread and cheese with an immediate applica- 
 tion to some counting-room for a desk at low wages, 
 if indeed he were lucky enough to obtain one ! 
 
 After a miserable night Gray went back to the 
 lawyer's office and listened in a kind of daze while 
 the books that Mr. Blair had carefully kept were ex- 
 plained to him. The senior Gray had been one of 
 those men of optimistic mind, who purchase the low- 
 est priced stocks in the market, and fan their belief 
 that mills will turn to dollars some day, as has. hap- 
 pened in the case of shares they are always fond of 
 instancing. The real estate he owned was heavily 
 mortgaged at the time of his death, and the equities 
 were absolutely worthless. The debts he left had to 
 be paid with the most available assets. All that was 
 left amounted, at their present value, to the pitiful 
 sum that the lawyer had mentioned yesterday. 
 
 "As the trust which Mr. Blair assumed, and which 
 I inherit, cannot be given up at once," suggested 
 Mr. Dibbs for the second time, " I must again advise
 
 50 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 you to accept a loan of what you need. To put it in 
 plain words, if you want two thousand five hundred 
 dollars a year, for the next five years, on your expect- 
 ations, at twelve per cent., I will advance it to you 
 with pleasure." 
 
 But Gilbert shook his head with decision. 
 
 " I want nothing of the sort," said he. " I will not 
 be put in a position where my interests are going to 
 clash with the rightful inheritor of this property. 
 And I don't think it would be honest for me to put 
 your personal estate at risk in such a way that it 
 would cause you loss if Mr. Margrave* turns up." 
 
 "Oh, as for that," said the lawyer, reddening 
 slightly, " I can afford to run my chances, and I 
 think my probity sufficiently established to place me 
 above the suspicion of jobbery. Even if I loaned 
 you this sum, and Mr. Margrave appeared, he should 
 step into possession of his own, as freely as if I were 
 not twelve thousand five hundred dollars out of 
 pocket. But I feel so certain that he never will 
 come in fact, that he is long since dead that I want 
 you to begin as soon as possible to reap the benefits 
 Mr. Blair intended for you." 
 
 To this Gilbert refused to listen, though he began 
 to think he had been unnecessarily rude to the man 
 of the law. He persisted that if Mr. Blair had in- 
 tended him to have two thousand five hundred dol- 
 lars a year, or any sum from his estate, he would 
 have made his will in that manner, instead of speci- 
 fying that he should wait five years and then depend 
 upon a contingency. He would have been glad now 
 had the will read differently. He did not like to be 
 left face to face with poverty. But his honor was in-
 
 BECOMING A PAUPER. 51 
 
 tact, and he had not yet experienced that sharp con- 
 tact with the world which blunts it. 
 
 " I will take nothing but what is legitimately 
 mine," he said, in response to every argument ; " but 
 I owe you an apology for my manner of receiving 
 the unpleasant news you broke to me yesterday, and 
 I make it freely. And now can you think of any 
 situation which I could fill, for I want to begia with' 
 out delay to earn my bread." 
 
 Mr. Dibbs, after casting about in his mind a few 
 moments, said he could think of nothing at present, 
 but would make some inquiries. In the meantime, 
 Gray would do well to look about for himself. With 
 this understanding they parted. 
 
 At the end of a month though he had "looked 
 about'" with diligence, Gilbert had found absolutely 
 nothing that he could do, and his distress increased 
 as he went from place to place and saw his unfitness 
 for the positions offered. He went to Mr. Dibbs* 
 office again, in a much humbler frame of mind than 
 before, and told that gentleman frankly what had 
 occurred. 
 
 * This leads me to make you an offer on my own 
 account," said the lawyer, gravely, " which I should 
 otherwise have hesitated to do. I am a very busy 
 man and have now, with Mr. Blair's estate and 
 others that are in my charge, more than I can attend 
 to just at present. I think you could, if you chose, 
 be of some assistance in caring for my trust prop- 
 erty, collecting rents, seeing to repairs, etc., as well 
 as making journeys to various places and looking 
 into matters that require attention. For this work I 
 am not able to offer you a large compensation, but
 
 69 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 it might keep you occupied until something better 
 turns up." 
 
 " I will take it gladly," was the quick reply, the 
 prospect of earning anything whatever seeming too 
 good to be lost. " You are very kind to make the 
 proposition." 
 
 But to this Mr. Dibbs demurred, saying it was 
 wholly a business matter with him, and he wanted it 
 treated as such. He was willing to pay fifteen dol- 
 lars a week, with necessary expense of travel, etc., 
 and possibly the salary might be raised to twenty 
 later. Gray seized upon the .offer without more ado, 
 and it was arranged that he should begin his duties 
 the very next morning. 
 
 Never having had the slightest business experi- 
 ence it is doubtful if the young man ever really 
 earned the meagre salary which he began to receive, 
 but he brought to the work an honesty of purpose 
 and a probity of conduct. If Mr. Dibbs had been 
 wholly disingenuous in employing him the connec- 
 tion might have gone on much longer than it did, to 
 the mutual advantage of both. The fact was, how- 
 ever, that the engagement was only a scheme on the 
 lawyer's part for bringing Gray to the agreement he 
 had first suggested. Mr. Dibbs believed thoroughly 
 that this was the only sensible thing for him to do, 
 and felt that the obstinacy with which he held out de- 
 served to be overcome. If he could reduce the 
 youth to actual want, and then give him no other 
 alternative than to accept his offer he believed he 
 would be doing him a real kindness. 
 
 But Gray proved a mulish subject to handle. 
 He lived, after a fashion, on the fifteen dollars a
 
 BECOMING A PAUPEK. 53 
 
 week that was paid him, and repelled all offers to 
 take the first penny from his prospective inheritance. 
 Then Dibbs, who knew that Mr. Blair had never be- 
 lieved his nephew alive, and had only intended to 
 give this young man a little experience of the value 
 of money, determined to force matters. He there- 
 fore announced to Gray, one day, that he should not 
 need his services after the following week. 
 
 Somewhat disheartened, but not at all ready to 
 give up, Gilbert looked about for another situation, 
 and soon heard of one at a fair salary in Amster- 
 dam, where a concern wanted just the sort of man 
 he conceived himself to be, one acquainted with 
 America and able to talk a certain line of goods 
 into Americans travelling abroad. Correspondence 
 passed, -and he was advised to come to Holland at 
 once. Arriving there he was given the position, and 
 held it just three weeks, by which time both he and 
 his employers were satisfied that he was wholly un- 
 fitted for its duties. The termination of the engage- 
 ment that naturally followed did not include a pay- 
 ment of a return fare across the ocean, and he 
 walked out of the office in a very low frame of 
 mind. 
 
 At his lodging was a letter from Dibbs, renewing 
 the offer to loan him whatever money he needed, in 
 case he ever should get short of funds. He tore it 
 up in a violent rage and stamped on it with his feet. 
 
 " I will live on a crust a day and finally die of 
 inanition in a garret," he exclaimed, " before I will 
 accept of a dollar from that man !" 
 
 And he began to carry out his program. He went 
 to London, where he hired the poorest lodging he
 
 54 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 could find, and dined in his room on the cheapest 
 food, while he followed all possible clues that seemed 
 to offer a chance to earn a living, however poor. 
 
 At last he almost made up his mind to take a, 
 steerage passage home, the only one he could raisq 
 the money for, and search among his distant relations 
 for some one to help him out of his dilemma. But 
 this course of procedure he postponed in very shame, 
 and wandered, a most disconsolate figure, up and 
 down the streets, hoping against hope that some- 
 thing would put him on his feet again. 
 
 One day, while strolling in Hyde Park, he saw a 
 familiar figure, riding a spirited horse up and down 
 the road, so well dressed and wearing such an air of 
 importance that he hesitated a long time before he 
 could summon courage enough to make himself 
 known. But at last he stepped up to the path and, 
 when the rider returned, called him by name. 
 
 " Mr. Neiling !" 
 
 The cavalier stopped his horse with a jerk and 
 looked in astonishment, not to say alarm, at the 
 speaker. 
 
 " The devil! It's Gray !" he exclaimed. Then in 
 a lower voice, " You must not call to me like that in 
 a public place. What do you want ? Speak 
 quickly !" 
 
 Stupefied by this strange manner Gilbert could 
 hardly open his mouth. 
 
 " I want the two hundred francs you borrowed of 
 me a year ago !" he managed to ejaculate, in an in- 
 jured tone. 
 
 The rider touched one of his spurs to his horse
 
 DAKIUS YATES, BOLICITOR. 55 
 
 and made him spring backward, with a handsome 
 movement. 
 
 "That's a nice way to dun a gentleman, isn't it ?" 
 he said sarcastically. " Coming up like a highway- 
 man with a ' Stand and deliver 'on a public road." 
 
 " It's not a question of ways," replied Gray, husk- 
 ily. I need the money, badly. I don't know where 
 else to find you, and I want you to pay me now." 
 
 " But I haven't got it with me !" was the testy an- 
 swer. " I don't go lined with ducats. And I can't 
 be seen here talking with you either." He reflected 
 a moment. " You know where Ludgate circus is, I 
 suppose. Be there to-night, at the corner of New 
 Bridge street. Two hundred francs ! Eight pounds 
 English ! A pretty sum to make such a fuss about !" 
 
 And before the American could say any more on 
 the subject, the handsome horse had given another 
 bound and was off like an arrow in the direction of 
 the Gate. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 DARIUS YATES, SOLICITOR. 
 
 YOUNG Mr. Gray was so indignant at this manner 
 of being received that he started to leave the Park in 
 a state of unusual temper. Had the case been 
 reversed he was certain he would have given his 
 benefactor double the amount borrowed, besides a 
 thousand expressions of gratitude. He was so full of 
 his wrongs that he did not hear a gentleman who was
 
 56 LOTB GONE AS': JtAY. 
 
 hastening after him and had called his name twice, 
 until one of the passers drew his attention to him. 
 
 Turning, he saw Mr. Darius Yates, the solicitor he 
 had met in Venice the previous year, and the next 
 moment he was grasped warmly by the hand. 
 
 "Delighted to see you!" were the words with 
 which he was greeted. "When did you come to 
 London, and why have you not called on me ?" 
 
 Now, although reduced to short commons in the 
 matter of food and lodging, Gilbert had managed to 
 keep up his personal appearance, and there was 
 nothing to indicate the straits through which he had 
 passed. But with the honesty that was a part of his 
 inmost nature, he at once told Mr. Yates the entire 
 truth, as fast as he could make the explanation. 
 The latter listened to the recital of Mr. Blair's death, 
 of the disappearance of the expected patrimony, of 
 the various attempts to earn a living, and their suc- 
 cessive failures. And he did not interrupt once dur* 
 ing the narrative. 
 
 " You have been unfortunate," he said, when Gray 
 finished, " but that sort of hard luck can't last for- 
 ever. It's no reason why you should neglect your 
 friends because you're not for the moment at the tap 
 of the heap." 
 
 " But I lost your address," stammered Gray, \vho 
 had really forgotten that such a person lived in Lon- 
 don, and wanted to get out of the dilemma as easy as 
 he could. 
 
 " Well, you shall have it again," smiled the solicitor, 
 " for you must go to my office and get it well fixed 
 in your mind. There should be an opening for a 
 bright young fellow like you somewhere in this city,
 
 DARIUS YATES, SOLICITOR. 57 
 
 and I intend, with your permission, to find it. Let 
 me ask, however, before I forget it, who was that 
 horseman that I saw you talking with a moment ago. 
 It seems to me that his face is one I have met 
 before." 
 
 He had taken Gray's acceptance of the invitation 
 to go to his office quite as a matter of course, and 
 was walking with him in that direction. As he 
 asked this question, the countenance of the younger 
 man, which had lightened a little, clouded again. 
 
 "I don't know why I shouldn't tell you," he said, 
 " though in ordinary circumstances I should hesitate. 
 Do you recall a story I related in Venice of lending 
 money to a fellow I found sleeping on the stones of 
 St. Mark's !" 
 
 Mr. Yates indicated that he recalled it very well. 
 
 " That is the man !" said Gray, bitterly. " Yes," 
 he repeated, as his companion met the statement with 
 an incredulous look, " that's the chap I fed when he 
 had eaten nothing for twenty-four hours, and to 
 whom I gave money enough to enable him to go to 
 Rome, where he succeeded in recovering the property 
 he had lost. And when I meet him here, and ask 
 politely for what is my own, telling him I absolutely 
 need the amount, he treats me like a beggar !" 
 
 The solicitor said he could not express his sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " I do not wonder you say so," answered Gilbert. 
 "This is the third time I have met him when he was 
 in affluent circumstances, and he still has my money. 
 He promises to give it to me this evening, if I will 
 attend his convenience at a place he designates, and 
 I suppose I've got to humble myself to do it."
 
 58 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 Mr. Yates showed the greatest interest in the state- 
 ment, much greater than one would expect to find in 
 a casual acquaintance. Gray could not help feeling 
 grateful to him, for, in his present condition, even a 
 kind look was not to be despised. The solicitor also 
 eyed his companion intently during the progress of 
 his narration, and seemed to take a mental inventory 
 of his physical attributes. 
 
 " He is the very man I want," he murmured to 
 himself. " Good luck has thrown in my way the 
 identical individual I have been searching for." 
 
 At a tall building he halted, and indicated to Gray 
 that this was where his office was located. When 
 the pair had ascended the stairs they entered a hand- 
 some room, furnished in much better taste than is 
 ordinarily found among members of the bar. After 
 exchanging a word or two with one of the clerks 
 that were busy writing at an inner chamber, Yates 
 closed the door between the rooms, and sat down 
 beside his friend. 
 
 " What particular line do you think you would like 
 to follow ?" he asked, pleasantly. 
 
 To this the younger man responded, with a shake 
 of his head, that he was in no position to make stip- 
 ulations. His finances were at their lowest ebb, and 
 unless something was soon done he would presently 
 be at the end of his resources. 
 
 " Even counting the eight pounds you are to re- 
 ceive from your ungrateful acquaintance," smiled 
 Mr. Yates. 
 
 " Yes," assented Gray, " even with that. And I 
 feel by no means certain that he will keep his ap-
 
 DARIUS TATKS, SOLICITOR. 59 
 
 pointment. If I were not in such pressing need, I 
 would decline to meet him." 
 
 The conversation continued for an hour, during 
 which the solicitor learned everything he chose to 
 ask of the history of his companion. A great deal 
 of it had been told him in their talks at Venice, bu'_ 
 he now had more reason than before to possess him- 
 self of the minutest details. He was evidently 
 pleased with the frank answers he received to all his 
 questions, and rubbed his palms together softly as 
 each reply confirmed the opinion he had originally 
 formed. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Gray," he said at last, " I have been 
 thinking about your case, and if you will put your- 
 self into my hands, I will see what can be done. No, 
 don't thank me just yet. I am a rather selfish sort 
 of fellow, and perhaps I have an axe of my own to 
 grind. In the course of a few days I hope to be able 
 to tell you something definite, but to-day I can only 
 make a provisional offer. Attached to these offices 
 is a suite of rooms, which I occupied for a long time* 
 myself, in the days of my bachelorhood. They are 
 rather cosy, and the man who used to attend to my 
 wants is still within sound of the bell. You can 
 move into those rooms at once, and consider your- 
 self at home there. In addition, you may draw on 
 me for five pounds a week in advance. If I find that 
 I cannot make other arrangements for you, I agree 
 to give you a fortnight's notice, or your salary for 
 that time, whenever our engagement ends. What do 
 you say ?" 
 
 Quite dazed by what seemed a bit of impossibly
 
 LOVE GONE A8TKAT. 
 
 good fortune, Gilbert stammered an acceptance, and 
 requested to know what his duties were to be. 
 
 "For the present nothing," said Mr. Yates, 
 gravely. " You have a fair wardrobe, I suppose. I 
 see your watch and chain have not yet found their 
 way to the pawnshop." 
 
 "No," was the blushing reply. "I have not 
 reached that stage. In the way of clothing I need 
 no more than I shall now be easily able to get. And 
 I am to do nothing?" 
 
 The solicitor bowed. 
 
 " Perhaps it would be more truthful to say that you 
 are to appear to do nothing. I shall introduce you 
 to my clerks and to others as a friend who is to 
 spend some weeks with me. The character you are 
 to assume is to be precisely your own that of a 
 young American gentleman of good family and edu- 
 cation, who is looking for a chance to place himself 
 suitably in life. You will not be expected and I 
 think you will not desire to reveal the full extent 
 of your previous ill fortune. As nothing else in your 
 career is to be concealed, I do not give you a very 
 difficult role to play. Of course there is no denying 
 that I have a purpose in view in making these ar- 
 rangements, but I promise you that your interests 
 will be in no manner compromised." 
 
 The proposition was truly a strange one, and the 
 young man wished for a moment that his duties were 
 to consist of something more tangible, in which he 
 could feel that he was really earning the wages re- 
 ceived. However, he was in no condition to make 
 terms, and he intimated again that he was wholly at 
 the service of Mr. Yates.
 
 DABIUS TATE8, 8OLICITOB. 61 
 
 "As I have some matters to attend to," said the 
 solicitor, much pleased at the prompt agreement of 
 his new friend, " let me show you your rooms and 
 ask that you have your belongings sent here this 
 afternoon. If you are obliged to pay in advance for 
 your present quarters, on account of leaving so ab- 
 ruptly, I shall consider that an extra to be charged 
 to me. Amuse yourself as you please until six 
 o'clock, when I should like to find you in evening 
 dress, ready to accompany me out to dinner. Reign- 
 ley," he called, opening the interior door, "my friend, 
 Mr. Gilbert Gray, who has come to stay some time 
 with me, will occupy my old apartments here. If 
 you want anything, Mr. Gray, you will call freely 
 upon Reignley, and upon our domestic, in case I am 
 out." 
 
 The clerk and Mr. Gray exchanged nods, and Mr. 
 Yates proceeded to introduce the American to his 
 new home, which he found cosily furnished and quite 
 a contrast in every way, not only to the one he was 
 to leave, but to most London lodgings. 
 
 "To get my trunks and get ready for dinner 
 that is all for to-day ?" asked Gilbert, still feeling 
 the duties assigned to be very strange ones. 
 
 "That is all, and to-morrow will be very much 
 like it," smiled the solicitor. 
 
 ** The dinner is it to be at a private house ?" 
 
 "No, Mr. Inquisitive ; at a public restaurant." 
 
 The day was certainly the most agreeable that Gil- 
 bert had spent for months, as he said to himself, when 
 he lay at last among his pillows. He had dined 
 elegantly with several friends of Mr. Yates', who had 
 treated him with the courtesy due a foreigner and
 
 62 LOVE GONK ASTRAY. 
 
 stranger, who comes with a good introduction. 
 After the dinner all had gone, rather late, to one of 
 the theatres, where Gilbert devoted less attention to 
 the play than to a family in one of the opposite 
 boxes, among whom was one of the most beautiful 
 young girls he had ever seen, wearing an appearance 
 of reserve that amounted almost to sadness, and 
 which excited his utmost interest. He noted that 
 Mr. Yates exchanged bows with an elderly lady in 
 that party, who seemed to be the young lady's 
 mother, but the solicitor appeared so well known, 
 that salutations from the various boxes were the 
 rule rather than the exception. 
 
 " An unusually pretty girl that," was all that Mr. 
 Yates said about her, except to add, " and a com- 
 patriot of yours, by-the-way." 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 " THEN THERE'S A FATHER, TOO ?" 
 
 IT was in the morning, as the clock was striking 
 nine, that Gray awoke. He sprang out of bed with 
 a feelingthat he was neglecting his duties ; and then 
 recollecting that there were none to perform, he 
 rang, and requested the domestic to ask Mr. Reign- 
 ley if Mr. Yates had arrived, or if any message had 
 been received from him. A negative reply was re- 
 ceived and a light breakfast was served in his rooms 
 somewhat to his surprise, for nothing had been said
 
 " THEN THKKE'S A FATHER, TOO ?" 63 
 
 about that. When he had eaten and dressed he 
 strolled out of doors to dissipate his ennui, and re- 
 turned about eleven o'clock, to find the solicitor 
 busy at his desk. 
 
 " How are you this morning ?" was the question 
 that greeted him. " Quite well, I am sure, judging 
 from your appearance. I have a lot to do just now, 
 and shall have to beg you to excuse me at lunch, but 
 if you are here at four I shall be glad of your com- 
 pany for a drive. Nothing particular to say, I sup- 
 pose ?" 
 
 " Nothing," said Gray, for Reignley was present, 
 and his character as a genuine friend of Mr. Yates' 
 was at stake. 
 
 " I should advise you to lunch at the Piccadilly, 
 to-day," continued Mr. Yates, with his eyes on the 
 papers he was examining. " To-morrow I will put 
 you up at my club, where things are much better. 
 You found the morning newspapers in your room, I 
 hope. I told the man to have them for you when 
 you awoke." 
 
 It was a strange kind of employment, dining with 
 a party of gentlemen, being taken to the theatre, 
 given an elegant suite of rooms to live in, and a 
 drive in the Park for the afternoon. The manner of 
 Mr. Yates took away the feeling that might other- 
 wise have marred the enjoyment of these things, and 
 Gilbert strove to overcome his few remaining scruples. 
 At present he saw no reason to refuse the change of 
 life. He had been terribly tired of the narrow quar- 
 ters he had occupied and the miserable meals he had 
 been obliged to eat. If it transpired that the solici- 
 tor wished to be repaid for his kindness by the sac-
 
 64 LOVB GONE A8TEAT. 
 
 rifiea of anything inconsistent with honor, Gilbert felt 
 that he was fully able to meet the dilemma. He could 
 not, however, reconcile a fear of this sort with the 
 correct deportment and the position in society which 
 his new friend gave unquestionable evidence of pos- 
 sessing. 
 
 "There was one matter that I forgot last evening," 
 said Gray to the solicitor, when ffhey were driving 
 that afternoon, "and it did not occur to me till an 
 hour ago. You may remember that I had an ap- 
 pointment with my debtor for the payment of two 
 hundred francs." 
 
 " So you had," said Mr. Yates, with a laugh. 
 "Well, all I can do is to credit it to your account. 
 It was clearly my fault that you were unable to be 
 there to get your money." 
 
 "Oh, no !" replied the young man, earnestly. " If 
 I remain in London I shall be almost sure to meet 
 him again, and the amount is not so vital to me as 
 it was yesterday." 
 
 " Very well. But, if you meet him, and he asks 
 questions, please don't say anything about our 
 arrangements. In fact, if he is the kind of fellow 
 he seems, it would be best to avoid all unnecessary 
 talk with him. I am afraid he is a bad one." 
 
 " You need have no fear," said Gray. " He is not 
 a man I would care to have anything to do with." 
 
 The conversation was interrupted at this point by 
 the sudden appearance at a turn in the road of a 
 carriage, in which were seated the young lady and 
 her mother that Gilbert had noticed at the theatre 
 the preceding night. As the vehicles passed closely 
 to each other both gentlemen lifted their hats and
 
 "THEN THERE'S A FATHER, TOO?" 65 
 
 received a very agreeable bow from the elder lady, 
 accompanied by a hardly perceptible one from her 
 daughter. 
 
 " A decidedly handsome young woman !" said Mr. 
 Yates. 
 
 "Rather cold, however," was Mr. Gray's comment. 
 
 "Appearances are not always to be relied upon in 
 such matters," said his friend, wisely. "I do not 
 think that dignity detracts from the merit of a 
 young woman in this age of frivolity." 
 
 There seemed something in this observation which 
 Gilbert took as rather a rebuke, and he parried the 
 thrust by asking if Mr. Yates knew the family well. 
 
 "Very well indeed," was the reply. "They are 
 Americans of wealth and position. The father is 
 really quite eminent, I understand." 
 
 "Then there is a father, too ?" said Gray. 
 
 " Why, yes. Is that addition to a household so un- 
 common in your country ? He is a little out of 
 health has some special trouble just now that keeps 
 him at his hotel. This daughter is his only child 
 and will inherit everything. A lucky man he'll be 
 who gets her for his wife, eli ?" 
 
 Gilbert nodded assent. The girl was certainly 
 very fair, and the addition of a fortune to her charms 
 was not one he was in a present position to under- 
 rate. Mr. Yates talked a great deal about the fam- 
 ily, and the young man listened with due deference 
 to all that was said. Then other drivers were met 
 with, about whom the solicitor also discoursed in the 
 charming way he had, and the ride was brought to 
 an end by another invitation to dinner, which proved 
 as pleasant as that of yesterday.
 
 66 LOVE GONB ASTRAr. 
 
 The succeeding days passed in much the same 
 manner, and Gray was becoming accustomed to his 
 novel position. Among the things that his new 
 friend insisted upon was that he should ride in the 
 Row each morning, on a very spirited animal which 
 he secured for that purpose. Having been a horse- 
 man from his early youth Gray made a fine figure 
 as he galloped along the path on his handsome 
 mount, and attracted the attention of other cavaliers, 
 who asked with surprise whom the newcomer mignt 
 be. The exercise brought the blood to his cheeks 
 and secured for him the admiring glances of many 
 of the fair sex who were, like him, taking their con- 
 stitutionals in the favorite resort of London fashion. 
 As Mr. Yates did not ride, Gray was left to his own 
 devices, and came to regard the canter which he took 
 between nine and eleven as the most enjoyable part 
 of each day. 
 
 But, as might have been foreseen, one of the persons 
 he met while engaged in this way was his old acquaint- 
 ance, Neiling. Well as the latter appeared, he saw 
 himself no match for Gray, and a very dark frown 
 settled upon his countenance as he beheld the hand- 
 some rider. Gray saw him at the same time, but 
 affected not to recognize him, and would have kept 
 up the pretense to the end if Neiling had not finally 
 reined his animal in front of him, so as to completely 
 bar the way, at a point on the Row where the two 
 were nearly alone. 
 
 " Oh, don't pretend not to know me!" he said, 
 provokingly. " I only want to understand your 
 game. Say, what are you up to ?"
 
 " THEN THERE'S A FATHER, TOO ?" 67 
 
 " I am attending to my own business," was the 
 sharp reply, " and I wish you to attend to yours." 
 
 " Naw /" drawled the other, with a cunning leer. 
 " Not quite so nearly a beggar as you were the other 
 day, are you ? There must have been a sudden turn 
 in your affairs. You didn't even come after the 
 centimes you were so good as to dun me for." 
 
 The wrath of the other was slowly rising. He 
 could not trust himself to make any reply, lest hi$ 
 temper should get the better of him and provoke a 
 scene not to be desired. So he whirled his animal 
 about and galloped away without a single word. 
 He felt that he should do that man a mischief if they- 
 kept getting thrown together, and for the next few- 
 days he took his rides in Regent's Park, to escape a 
 disagreeable meeting. 
 
 About a fortnight from the time when he first went 
 to live at Mr. Yates' apartments, Gray found seated 
 with that gentleman one evening, at a rather late 
 hour, an elderly man of disconsolate and dejected 
 mien, who sat in the shadow of the very dimly- 
 lighted room, and answered, when presented to the 
 young man, in curt monosyllables. He was tall, and 
 slightly bent, and his hair and beard were grizzled, 
 but beyond this Gilbert could have testified nothing 
 in regard to his appearance, had he been put on oath 
 the next morning. 
 
 Mr. Yates requested Gray to sit down, and 
 engaged him in a conversation that lasted half an 
 hour or so, quite as if there were no third party in 
 the room. They talked of a wide range of matters, 
 mainly related to foreign travel, and Gray was led to 
 speak of the places he had visited, Mr. Yiites con-
 
 68 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 tenting himself with questions. When he left to go 
 to his rooms, for it was evident that the stranger had 
 some further business to transact, the solicitor 
 followed him to the door with an engaging smile, 
 and said in a whisper that his client had a raging 
 toothache and must be excused for his taciturnity ; 
 to which Gilbert made a courteous reply and bade 
 them both good-night. 
 
 At first it seemed like imagination and then it 
 became a certainty that the client with the toothache 
 had thrown off his silence and was engaged in talk- 
 ing not only volubly, but loudly, to the barrister. 
 Gray tried not to hear them. It was no affair of his 
 if Mr. Yates, for any reason, had misrepresented the 
 condition of his now ungovernable friend. But, in 
 spite of him, expressions were wafted across the 
 corridor and through the keyholes that showed a 
 state of mind on the part of the gentleman not to be 
 envied. Gray could hear the gentler expostulations 
 of Mr. Yates, but it was a long time before he suc- 
 ceeded in calming his companion, who acted more 
 like one demented than a sane human being. 
 
 " I hope you weren't disturbed," said the solicitor 
 the next day, referring to the affair. " The old gen- 
 tleman's tooth got worse after you left us and his 
 groans were so loud I was afraid you would hear 
 him." 
 
 " No, I went to sleep at once," said Gilbert, think- 
 ing that it was time he did his share of the lying. 
 
 And he looked so honest that Mr. Yates accepted 
 the statement without reserve, and seemed corre- 
 spondingly relieved.
 
 "YOU'LL BE REQUIRED TO MARBY." 69 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 "YOU'LL BE REQUIRED TO MARRY." 
 
 WHEN three weeks had elapsed since Gilbert Gray 
 became a resident of Mr. Yates' chambers, the solici- 
 tor thought it time to divulge the reasons that had 
 actuated him in his singular conduct. The young 
 man had carried himself with ease and grace in his 
 new position. At the club on whose books he had 
 been temporarily inscribed he was regarded as a 
 most desirable companion. The number of his new 
 friends was only limited by the list of introductions 
 received. Once or twice he had accompanied Mr. 
 Yates to private houses, where he acquitted himself, 
 as might have been expected, with full credit. The 
 solicitor wanted a young gentleman of good appear- 
 ance and education, who would do no discredit to 
 any circle of life, and he congratulated himself that 
 he had found him. 
 
 " You are doubtless still in a state of wonder as to 
 what this all means," he said, one night, when they 
 were riding home from a brilliant party at one of 
 tfae swellest London houses. 
 
 " Yes," said Gilbert. " Are you going to tell 
 me ?" 
 
 The solicitor looked askance at his companion. 
 
 " Perhaps," he replied, cautiously. " Let me, how- 
 ever, ask you in the first place if you are tired of the 
 life you are leading." 
 
 The young man shook his head decidedly.
 
 70 LOVE GONE ASTRAY 
 
 "And you would, perhaps, prefer to have it con- 
 tinue indefinitely, rather than return to the one you 
 were following when I met you in Hyde Park." 
 
 A ghastly shade came upon the young face at the 
 mere suggestion. 
 
 "I thought so," said Mr. Yates, not waiting for a 
 more definite reply. " Well, Mr. Gray, I have a pro- 
 posal that only requires acceptance, and then as 
 pleasant a life as you have passed with me yes, a 
 much pleasanter one is yours for the rest of your 
 days." 
 
 A dim recollection came to the younger man of a 
 story he had read, in which the devil demanded the 
 soul of a mortal in exchange for all earthly blessings. 
 He wondered if beneath the dress coat of the solici- 
 tor a pronged tail was concealed, and if, within his 
 patent leather boots, there were hoofs instead ol 
 feet. 
 
 " I am listening," he answered, catching his breath, 
 
 " To come at once to the point, then, you will be 
 required to marry." 
 
 Gilbert caught his breath again. 
 
 " An antiquated, vinegar-faced old maid ?" he 
 asked, with a shiver. 
 
 " On the contrary, a young and very beautiful 
 girl." 
 
 "With some terrible mental defect ?" 
 
 " No, with a bright brain and an affable disposi- 
 tion." 
 
 The breathing grew easier. To marry such a girl 
 and still enjoy life was a conceivable possibility. 
 
 " I am listening," he said, again. 
 
 " This young girl will inherit a fortune. Her hus
 
 "YOU'LL BE REQUIRED TO MAKBT." 71 
 
 band will be placed beyond want at the beginning of 
 his married life. The family is highly respectable. 
 Is is there anything else that you wish to know ?" 
 
 Mr. Gray was staring with all his might out of the 
 carriage window. 
 
 " It is very mysterious," he remarked. 
 
 To this the solicitor assented with a bow. 
 
 " When must the wedding take place ?" 
 
 " Immediately." 
 
 " This year ?" 
 
 " To-morrow." 
 
 There was a gasp that savored of alarm, and then 
 the youth relapsed into deep thought. What could it 
 mean? Something had not yet been told him. There 
 was some reason undivulged. To marry a pretty 
 girl with a fortune was not a fate men usually strug- 
 gled to avoid. Nor was it necessary to inveigle a 
 man into society on semi-false pretenses, to find one 
 who would accept the hand of such a lady. 
 
 But, to look at the other side of the question, what 
 would result from declining this offer ? Simply to be 
 turned out into the street, with ten pounds " advance 
 wages " in his pocket, and starvation to face again. 
 It was clearly a case where a gift horse must not be 
 looked too closely in the mouth. 
 
 And yet he felt how thoroughly this plan, if carried 
 out, would affect all his future that future for which, 
 in happier days, he had built up a dreamland home 
 by the side of some woman whose love he had won 
 and whose hand he had gained in no such way as 
 this. He began to talk to Mr. Yates of the ideallic 
 marriage he had had in mind, of the sacredness of 
 that association and its importance upon character.
 
 72 LOVE GONE ASTBAY. 
 
 And even as he talked the ridiculousness of the argu- 
 ment overcame him, when it was compared with the 
 penniless situation in which he was placed, that situ- 
 ation into which he had been so unexpectedly 
 plunged and which altered everything. 
 
 " Do you accept ?" was the business-like question 
 with which the smiling Mr. Yates met these vagaries 
 when the speaker came to an end of them. 
 
 "Accept!" echoed Gilbert, with a start. "Per- 
 haps, after all, I shall do so. If you would only give 
 me a day or two to think." 
 
 "Not an hour ; it is impossible." 
 
 " Well, then," said Gray, breathing deeply, and 
 after a long pause, "unless there is some reason 
 stronger than any you have advanced why I should 
 not, I I yes, I accept." 
 
 The gloved hand of the solicitor strayed over and 
 clasped his with a motion that indicated eminent sat- 
 isfaction. 
 
 " It would be idle for me to attempt to convince 
 you," he said, " that the proposition I have made is 
 exactly what it appears on its face. You have di- 
 vined that there is a thorn with the rose, a fly in the 
 soup, as the French say, that makes the matter a lit- 
 tle more unpalatable than it yet looks. Heiresses 
 with handsome faces and intelligent minds are not 
 disposed of ordinarily in this manner. They are 
 pursued, on the contrary, by a legion of admirers, 
 from which it is difficult to choose the most eligible. 
 A young man without a sou, with no friends to speak 
 of, and with no better prospect in life than to secure, 
 at the best, some petty clerkship, is not, to put it 
 plainly, the sort of mate commonly selected for these
 
 "YOU'LL BE REQUIRED TO MARRY.'' 73 
 
 positions. It is necessary, at this stage, for me to 
 speak plainly, and I trust you will not misunderstand 
 my motives." 
 
 Mr. Gray swallowed the bitter pill as best he 
 might. He could not dispute that the portrait 
 drawn fitted him exactly. 
 
 " I have taken a liking to you/' pursued the other, 
 after a momentary pause, "and it will be a pleasure 
 to me, in addition to any professional satisfaction, if 
 I can put you into the comfortable circumstances for 
 which your nature is so well adapted. There is no 
 reason why you should fight your way in a cold and 
 cruel world when ease and comfort may be yours. 
 At the same time there is, as you must guess, a fea- 
 ture to this marriage that you might prefer did not 
 exist. When you hear what it is, do not flv into a 
 state of excitement, but deliberate on the matter 
 calmly. The chance is one that will not be likely to 
 occur again in your lifetime. It is yours to accept 
 or reject and the opportunity is for to-night only.'" 1 
 
 Into the seething brain of the young man there 
 came the most preposterous reasons, as possible 
 ones in this strange affair ; but nothing agreeing 
 with Mr. Yates* statements could be found that 
 seemed in the least degree tenable. 
 
 " Go on," he said, laconically, bracing himself for 
 the revelation. 
 
 " It is this," said Mr. Yates, slowly and distinctly : 
 "The young lady, if she becomes your wife, will 
 probably present you with an heir within a period 
 somewhat less than that ordinarily expected in such 
 cases."
 
 14c LOVK GONB ASTRAY. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A VERY BLUNT REFUSAL. 
 
 THE first impression of Mr. Gray was to strike the 
 man who coolly uttered these words, which he felt 
 contained a burning insult to himself. The next idea 
 was to open the carriage door and spring to the 
 ground, ridding himself of a companion capable of 
 such an outrage. But before he could execute either 
 of these things a faintness overcame him, and he lay 
 back against the carriage cushions, helpless. It was 
 as if he had been offered a drink of cool water and 
 had found a bitter and nauseous draught when the 
 cup was pressed to his lips. 
 
 This it was that stood between him and beggary ! 
 This ! 
 
 " I did not suppose it would be agreeable to you," 
 pursued the quiet voice of the solicitor. " In itself 
 it bears a harsh front ; but as an alternative proposi- 
 tion it looks somewhat different. The young lady of 
 whom I speak has made one slip, which may be kept 
 from the knowledge of the world. With the excep- 
 tion of a moment of madness, for which even she 
 cannot account, she has, I am sure, led a pure and 
 creditable life. There were only two persons to 
 whom she dared confide her grief, and the pain it 
 would give to either of them I leave you to imagine. 
 To her mother, already in delicate health, it might 
 mean instant death. To her father, a man of the 
 highest reputation, and as jealous of his honor as one
 
 A VEKY BLUNT REFUSAL. 75 
 
 can conceive, it must be a blow compared to which 
 there is no other conceivable. He has brought her 
 up delicately, with the best of teachers, as free ap- 
 parently from danger of this kind as an angel in 
 Paradise. Her mother has been her most constant 
 friend and the girl had never shown the least par- 
 tiality for the opposite sex, so far as they knew. 
 Nevertheless, the deed was done, and when she went 
 in terror to this father and told him the truth, he 
 came at once to me, I being his legal adviser. I 
 have never seen a human being in such mental 
 agony." 
 
 In spite of himself Mr. Gray was listening, and 
 with the deepest interest, to this remarkable story. 
 He began even to excuse the narrator for the part he 
 had taken in beguiling him into this net, from which 
 he would presently make good his escape. 
 
 " Aged ten years in one hour," continued Mr. 
 Yates, "this old man told me, as men tell things to 
 lawyers and to priests, of the curse that had fallen 
 on his house. As was my duty, I tried to mitigate 
 the effects of the injury by suggesting ways to lessen 
 the force of the blow. I said we could take the 
 guilty one in hand and make him right his wrong, as 
 far as was possible, at the marriage altar. To this 
 the father responded, in the most vehement manner, 
 that he would rather see his child in her grave, and 
 himself with her, than to own as a son-in-law a 
 wretch who had perpetrated such a crime against 
 them. He believed the fellow had proceeded delib- 
 erately, with this expectation in view, and had 
 hoped to attain by chicanery to a position he could 
 never reach in a straightforward and honest manner.
 
 76 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 The father disposed of him in one torrent of vituper- 
 ation, and I saw that further talk on that score was 
 useless, even had I thought, from my own stand- 
 point, after what I knew, that it was advisable." 
 
 The carriage was approaching Mr. Yates' home, 
 and he called to the driver to make a detour, to pro- 
 long the journey. He then looked narrowly at 
 young Gray, who lay quite still, to see if he was pay- 
 ing attention, and finding that he was, proceeded 
 cautiously, as if addressing a jury on whose verdict 
 his entire case depended : 
 
 " There was another proposition, at which I 
 vaguely hinted, and which I was relieved to have 
 rejected as quickly as the first. I found a good deal 
 of determination in this old man, in spite of the hurt 
 he had received. When we had discussed the matter 
 for several hours he announced his ultimatum. 
 Either his daughter should be taken to some se- 
 cluded place and remain till the birth of her child, 
 which he would amply provide for, or and this al- 
 ternative he came to but slowly and by my sugges- 
 tion she should marry some respectable man who 
 had a full knowledge of her condition and accepted 
 her accordingly. In the latter case there must be 
 arranged a pretended marriage of an earlier date, 
 while for the public must be prepared the tale of a 
 romance with love at its base, something the world 
 always forgives when the nine days' wondering is 
 over. ' There was the mother to consider a woman 
 devoted to her child, and full of womanly instincts 
 that would excuse any act that came within the pale 
 of law and conduced to her daughter's happiness.
 
 A VERY BLUNT KEFU8AL. 77 
 
 It was to be this, or nothing, and the father left me 
 to see what I could do. 
 
 " In the language of the shop it seemed a difficult 
 order to fill. My sympathy for my client and his 
 unhappy child nerved me to make the strongest ef- 
 forts in their behalf. I had an interview with the girl, 
 and found her perfectly amenable to the paternal 
 will ready to do anything required, and only anx- 
 ious that her mother should be kept at all costs from 
 a knowledge of the trouble. She had evidently ex- 
 perienced her share of suffering more on account of 
 others, even, than for herself. I told her my plans, 
 admitting that I raight not .be able to carry them 
 out, and she acquiesced in their wisdom. Then I 
 began to look about for the young man who should 
 wed her, and I found it easier than I had imagined 
 to arrange that part of the programme." 
 
 The silent figure in the carriage raised its head, 
 and the startled eyes interrogated those of the solic- 
 itor. 
 
 " I found," explained Mr. Yates, " that there were 
 plenty of young men in London, of good birth and 
 education, and of empty pockets, who would jump 
 at a chance to make a marriage of this sort. Several 
 of them I tried, with a hypothetical recital of the 
 case, and in every instance their answers convinced 
 me that no time would be lost in case I settled upon 
 either. With this knowledge I dispatched an assist- 
 ant to a distant place, where he was able to secure, 
 for a small bribe, the promise of a certificate that Mr. 
 Blank and Miss Dash were married there in Septem- 
 ber last, whenever he should be able to send in the 
 names. We shall thus save the reputation of the
 
 78 LOTS GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 husband and wife from assaults of the spiteful or the 
 envious ; and the facts in relation to the offspring 
 will be known only to the family and to myself, for I 
 have concealed and shall, until the latest moment, 
 the names of the persons involved. 
 
 " Now, to be very candid with you, Mr. Gray, yoa 
 are the only man I have in mind to whom I am 
 wholly satisfied to give my fair young client and her 
 future. I regard you as an honorable gentleman 
 who would conduct yourself in a proper manner, 
 and bring a true and loyal support to your plighted 
 word. If you will reflect a little I think the situa- 
 tion will not seem wholly bad. To do what I sug- 
 gest would be to bring sunshine into a blighted life, 
 to temper the anguish of an unhappy father and per- 
 haps to save from death a loving mother. It would 
 assure you of a sufficient income, with ability to 
 follow your tastes as to living in America or abroad, 
 and in time, I truly believe, would make you a con- 
 tented family man, no worse off in actual condition 
 than if you had married a young widow. It is for you 
 to say. As I told you, there is no longer time for 
 temporizing. Your marriage must take place at 
 once, if ever." 
 
 The driver, thinking that the inmates of the car- 
 riage ought to have finished their conversation by 
 this time, had resumed his way toward the residence 
 of Mr. Yates and now paused before the door. 
 
 " Well," asked the man of law, " is it yes or no ?" 
 
 " It is no /" was the hoarse reply. " No ! by all 
 means, no ! And I want to add that you will not find 
 me at your rooms when you come in the morning, 
 I shall pack up and leave at once."
 
 A VERT BLUNT REFUSAL. 79 
 
 M I am disappointed," said Mr. Yates, and he looked 
 it thoroughly. " Well, that settles it then," he added 
 with a sigh. " Remember, there is two weeks' salary 
 due you." 
 
 " I shall not take it," said Gray, coldly. " If it is 
 ever in my power to return what you have advanced 
 I shall do that. I wish I could express how mean 
 and low I feel when I reflect on the time I have spent 
 with you, and think what its object was. I shall go 
 now to toil or to starvation with a lighter heart, when 
 I think how much worse a fate might have been 
 mine." 
 
 Mr. Yates alighted, and simply gave the right direc- 
 tion to the cabman, into whose hand he pressed a sum 
 in excess of the fare. There was no use in talking to a 
 man in that mood. Gray was driven to the home he 
 had been occupying, and as he walked up the stairs he 
 found himself staggering against the wainscot. He 
 was cold. His hand trembled as he pushed the key 
 into its aperture. His rooms were well heated, but 
 he shivered still. There was a fire in a grate and 
 he sat down close to it and tried to warm himself. 
 
 It did not take long to pack his effects, and when 
 the trunk and bags were locked and strapped, and 
 the other things laid conveniently for moving, Gray 
 found himself not the least inclined for sleep. He 
 therefore decided to walk for an hour or so, thinking 
 that exercise might compose his perturbed brain. 
 
 Wrapped in a greatcoat he sallied into Oxford 
 street, and strolled at random toward the City, pay* 
 ing little attention to the sights about him. The late 
 stayers among the sisterhood that infests that locality 
 after midnight gave him plenty of invitations to ac
 
 80 LQTE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 company them to warmer quarters, but he paid no 
 heed. At another time they would have disgusted 
 him, but to-night, when he had been on the brink of 
 selling himself , he could not too deeply blame them 
 for engaging in a like occupation. 
 
 With his collar turned up about his ears and his 
 hat well drawn over his eyes he went on and on, until 
 he had reached the vicinity of Newgate. 
 
 The snow began to fall, gently. From a small 
 hotel he saw a couple emerge, and heard a hasty 
 good-night exchanged as they separated at the door- 
 way, logo in opposite directions. The man, who was 
 elegantly dressed, whistled for a passing cab and was 
 driven away, leaving his companion alone. 
 
 The woman walked slowly, looking about as if ex- 
 pecting some one, and presently a second man came 
 out of the shadow of a building and walked up to 
 her. 
 
 " How much ?" he asked, laconically, holding out 
 his hand. 
 
 " Four pounds,** was the answer, in a disappointed 
 voice. 
 
 " I told you to insist on five !" said the man, angrily. 
 
 ** He would not give it. I did the best I could." 
 
 "Ugh ! What an idiot you are !" was the ungra- 
 cious response, as the speaker took the money. 
 "'Well, I've no time to lose. I'll see you in the 
 morning." 
 
 He was turning away, apparently in great haste, 
 when the woman spoke again : 
 
 " Am I to walk home ? I haven't a shilling." 
 
 With an expression that sounded like a curse the 
 man took a piece of silver from his pocket and
 
 A VERT BLUNT REFUSAL. 81 
 
 shoved it into her hand. The movement was so 
 abrupt that the woman staggered with the force of 
 it. Then he left her. 
 
 Gilbert Gray could not doubt the full significance 
 of the proceeding he had witnessed. The man was 
 one of those creatures who live on the illegal earn- 
 ings of immoral women, and he had taken from his 
 mistress the wage for which she had just sacrificed 
 her womanliness and her honor. She had given it to 
 him not unwillingly, only making a slight protest 
 when he left her to walk through the streets at one 
 o'clock at night for want of a cab fare. It was a 
 proceeding Gray had heard of before, but of which ha 
 had always entertained some doubt. Stunned by the 
 scene, he was walking on in a sort of daze, when the 
 woman, who had no suspicion that her recent actions 
 had been noticed by him, hastened on his track. 
 
 " It is a cold night, sir," she said. 
 
 He walked faster ; but she caught up with him, 
 and for nearly a minute dinned into his ears invita- 
 tions that filled him with horror. At last he saw a 
 policeman in the distance, and stopping short, threat- 
 ened to give her into custody if she did not leave him 
 at once. 
 
 The startled look of the woman when he uttered 
 these words made him sorry that he had spoken so 
 sharply. He drew out a half sovereign though he 
 had little enough to spare and told her to take it. 
 She reached for the money with an avidity that was 
 astonishing, and only to be accounted for by hunger 
 or some equally strong reason. Then, with a search- 
 ing look at his face, she vanished up one of the sid* 
 streets.
 
 82 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 And Gilbert Gray went back to his temporary 
 lodging, wondering if he could trust his eyes and his 
 ears. For the man he had seen lying in wait for 
 this poor creature, and taking her shameful earnings 
 to the last penny, was none other than the one he 
 had rescued in Venice and encountered again in 
 Rome, the elegant rider he so recently met in 
 the Park, his old acquaintance, Neiling. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " SHALL IT BE YOU OR HE f 
 
 NATURE had its way with him before lie was aware 
 of it, and he fell into a deep sleep. When he awoke 
 it was past eight o'clock, and the room was brightly 
 illuminated with the wintry sun. 
 
 He rubbed his eyes wonderingly, as he realized 
 what must have occurred, and was about to go to 
 the street to summon a cab, when he heard a familiar 
 voice in the outer entry. 
 
 " How early do you expect Mr. Yates ?" asked the 
 voice. 
 
 "About half-past nine," was the reply of the do- 
 mestic addressed. 
 
 "I must see him sooner," said the first voice. 
 "Give me his house address." 
 
 " He never transacts business at his house," said 
 the domestic, "and I have orders to give the address 
 to no one."
 
 " SHALL IT BE YOU OR HE ?" 83 
 
 There was an angry and impatient exclamation at 
 this. 
 
 "I shall find it, in some way," said the stranger. 
 * If I do not, I shall be here again within an hour." 
 
 Would the gentleman leave his card ? 
 
 No, the gentleman would not. The gentleman 
 fceemed in an ill temper, and in great haste, for he 
 went out with a slam of the door that shook the 
 building. 
 
 Mr. Gray had risen from the chair in which he 
 slept, and stood staring in the direction from which 
 these sounds proceeded. The voice he had heard 
 was a familiar one. Good heaven ! How could that 
 man appear at every turn in his path ! 
 
 It was tolerably clear. Neiling was one of those 
 "eligible young gentlemen " whom Mr. Yates had 
 selected as possible partners for his fair client. 
 Such a fate for the poor girl was too horrible. 
 Gray seized a sheet of note paper and wrote rapidly : 
 
 " DEAR MR. YATES : See me, without fail, before 
 you make any arrangement in the matter of which 
 we were speaking. I shall wait in my room till 
 you come. Do not fail to heed this. 
 
 "Yours, G. G." 
 
 " Take that as fast as you can ride to Mr. Yates,' 
 he said, when the domestic answered his bell. " Put 
 it into his hands yourself." 
 
 It was only half an hour before the domestic re- 
 turned, bringing the message that Mr. Yates would 
 be at his office as soon as possible. Gilbert fumed
 
 84 LOVE GONE ASTKAY. 
 
 and fretted, however, as the time dragged on. He 
 had come to feel that the prevention of a crime lay 
 in his hands. The character of Neiling had pre- 
 sented itself to him so vilely that he could not en- 
 dure the thought that a young girl of the sort the 
 solicitor had described repentant of her one fault 
 should be condemned to such a life partnership. It 
 would be even better to endure the pangs of un- 
 wedded motherhood, to face the cruel world with 
 her guilt exposed than to marry such a man as that. 
 The hour before the solicitor came seemed intermin- 
 able to the young man, and when he at last arrived 
 there was no time lost in coming to the point. 
 
 " You are surprised to find me still here," began 
 Gray, when he had closed the door to shut out pos- 
 sible intruders. "That can be explained in a 
 moment. After packing my effects with the inten- 
 tion of leaving at daylight, I fell asleep in that chair 
 and did not awake until eight o'clock. When I 
 opened my eyes the first sound that I heard was a 
 voice In the corridor, talking to your servant. I 
 recognized it as that of the man you saw me talking 
 with in the Park the day you first met me, and I 
 drew my own conclusions." 
 
 He paused, nearly out of breath, and the solici- 
 tor's pleasant face assumed an air of disappoint- 
 ment. 
 
 "What were your conclusions ?" he asked, rather 
 coldly. 
 
 " That this fellow was one of those you were con- 
 sidering as a husband to your client's daughter," 
 said Gilbert, with directness. " And if that were 
 true '
 
 , *8HA.LL IT BE YOU OR HE?" 85 
 
 Mr. Yates raised his hand in interruption. 
 
 "Wait a minute!" he said. "I think this is 
 farther than you have a right to go." 
 
 " In one sense, yes," replied the young man, red- 
 dening. " Nor have I any wish to interfere in your 
 business. But I appeal to you, as an honorable 
 gentleman ? which I have never doubted you to be, 
 to consider the chances of happiness of a woman 
 joined to a man so utterly destitute of principle !" 
 
 " Oh, there are worse men then he," repeated the 
 solicitor, thoughtfully. " You don't know anything 
 really criminal against him." 
 
 Gray hesitated an instant ; but too much was at 
 stake now for trifles, and he told what he had seen 
 the previous night. 
 
 A sarcastic smile crossed the solicitor's face, as he 
 listened, a smile of the kind that was not common 
 there. 
 
 "You take remarkable interest in a girl you felt 
 insulted by being mentioned with, a few hours ago," 
 said he. 
 
 ** I may seem inconsistent," was the answer, " but 
 I hope I am not so. When you told me of her situa- 
 tion and asked me to share her shame I was, I 
 admit, shocked. I felt that you had formed an 
 opinion of me altogether too low, and that I had 
 done nothing to merit the estimate. But, on the 
 other hand, I had and still have the utmost sympathy 
 and would do anything in my power to help her. 
 If there are others, in this city of London, with a 
 less fine sense of propriety, who are willing to sacri- 
 fice themselves in consideration of the emoluments 
 to be gained, I have nothing to say against the plan
 
 86 LOVE GONE ASTKAY. 
 
 you are to carry out. I can conceive a form of mind 
 and a temperament fitted to such a union, where 
 good might in the end result to all concerned. But 
 you must admit, sir, that it is not enough to dis- 
 cover a man who will give this girl his name. You 
 must find one who will not make her life a hell, 
 when by your aid he has been given the power to 
 do so." 
 
 The sarcastic smile faded from the lips of the 
 listener long before Mr. Gray finished. He was con- 
 ceiving a new respect for this young man, as well, 
 perhaps, as an enlarged notion of his own responsi- 
 bilities. 
 
 "The trouble is," said he, " my time is getting 
 short. I had counted so absolutely on you pardon 
 me that my choice in other fields is reduced to a 
 Very limited one. Why had I placed so much reli- 
 ance on you ? Not, as you intimate, because I 
 thought you lacking in any quality that makes the 
 gendeman, but because I candidly believed the 
 opportunity one you ought to embrace ought, I say 
 both in duty to yourself and to this unfortunate 
 young lady. She has made one slip, it is true, and 
 what is worse, the consequences stare her in the face. 
 An arrangement has been made by which conceal- 
 ment of this error will be secured and her life saved 
 from ruin. She is in a frame of mind to give all her 
 devotion to the man who saves her, and I prophesy 
 for them a happy and peaceful existence. The 
 fortune she will bring to the husband is not a thing 
 to be ignored, either. This is not an age of the 
 world in which money should be despised. You can 
 give some pertinent testimony on that head. I
 
 " SHALL IT BE YOU OB HE?" 87 
 
 have promised her father to introduce him to the 
 man I have selected. He is impatient and will not 
 5e put off. So, when you refused me so abruptly 
 last night, my choice fell on another man who, to 
 be candid, I would not have chosen had I been able 
 to help it." 
 
 Gray pounded the table restlessly with his clenched 
 hand. 
 
 "And that choice is William Neiling, or what 
 other name he may decide to give you !" he ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 The solicitor shrugged his shoulders by way of re- 
 ply. 
 
 "Very well !" ejaculated Gray. " I have only this 
 to say: I would not have your responsibility for all 
 the wealth of London." 
 
 The other man started in his chair. 
 
 " There is another whose responsibility is greater 
 than mine," he said, impressively. 
 
 " Another !" repeated Gilbert. 
 
 "Yours is by far the greater," said Mr. Yates. 
 " The opportunity to save this girl from a fate you so 
 much deplore is in your hands ; it is not in mine. 
 You are single, eligible, a mate for her that the final 
 jury society would declare perfectly suitable. I 
 am not only ten years too old, but I am already mar- 
 ried. I have done all I could to help her, much 
 more, I assure you, from sympathy, than from any 
 call of a business nature. But you, with this drown- 
 ing child before your eyes, refuse to stretch out your 
 hand." 
 
 Gilbert Gray moved uneasily under this strong in 
 dictment.
 
 88 LOVE GONE ASTBAT. 
 
 " Do you mean to tell me as an honest man that 
 you would marry her if you were single ?" he de- 
 manded. 
 
 " If I were of your age, and of your circumstances, 
 before God, yes !" said Mr. Yates. 
 
 "Ah !" cried Gilbert. "That is the point, after 
 all the money to be paid for the service." 
 
 " Not wholly. This girl is as pretty a creature as 
 lives at this moment in Europe. She is only eight- 
 een years of age, amiable, educated, with every per- 
 sonal qualification. I am sure, if the case had been 
 presented to me at your age, exactly as I present it 
 to you, I would have accepted her without ques- 
 tion." 
 
 Gilbert shook his head slowly. 
 
 "Knowing that she had so far forgotten her 
 honor " 
 
 " Knowing everything. A child like her may give 
 way to a moment of impulse, ignorant of results, un- 
 able to guide her passions. But a woman with that 
 experience is safe forever. The man who gets her 
 secures a pearl that he will not need to watch. He 
 can rely on her gratitude, her affection, her fealty, 
 as he could not on one with less incentive to love 
 her husband. The man who marries this young 
 girl " 
 
 A knock at the door interrupted the speaker, and 
 the domestic who entered presented a card to Mr. 
 Yates. 
 
 " Ask him to wait a few minutes," said the solici- 
 tor, in a low voice. Then, when they were again 
 alone, he added to Mr. Gray, "This card is that of 
 the person you so much object to."
 
 89 
 
 The young man rose and paced the room uneasily. 
 His temples were burning. His nerves were un- 
 strung. 
 
 " He has come for his answer, I presume," lie said, 
 when he could control his voice. 
 
 Mr. Yates bowed silently. 
 
 " And what," asked Gilbert, pausing before the 
 solicitor's chair, " what shall you tell him ?" 
 
 " That is for you to say," was the sharp reply. 
 
 "For me ?" exclaimed the young man, recoiling. 
 
 " Precisely. It is to be one of you. Which ?" 
 
 Gilbert drew a long breath of pain. 
 
 " The choice is not so limited as that," he said. 
 " You told me there were others that you had in 
 mind." 
 
 " They do not meet the requirements of eligibil- 
 ity," said Mr. Yates. "No, it has resolved itself to 
 you and him." He rose and took out his watch. 
 " I must give him his answer." 
 
 The violence of Mr. Gray's feelings were too 
 strong for him. His dilemma pressed with an over- 
 powering weight. He sat down and covered his eyes 
 with his shaking hands. 
 
 "Come!" said the solicitor. "Is it to be you or 
 he?" 
 
 Delay was the first thing thought of. Delay, that 
 always gives a chance for something to transpire. 
 
 *' What is the very latest time you give me to an- 
 swer ?" asked Gray, without lifting his head. 
 
 " How long do you need ?" 
 
 "Give me till to-morrow morning." 
 
 "Absolutely impossible." 
 
 "Till this evening."
 
 90 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 " It cannot be done. I will give you it is now 
 half-past nine I will give you till ten." 
 
 Mr. Yates was proceeding to leave the room, when 
 the young man interrupted him in his progress. 
 
 "What shall you tell him ?" 
 
 ** I shall ask him to return in half an hour." 
 
 The struggle in Gilbert Gray's brain was terrific, 
 but he wanted one thing disposed of then and there. 
 
 " Tell him," he ejaculated, slowly, " that he 
 need NOT return /" 
 
 Mr. Yates leaned over his companion and took both 
 his hands in his own. 
 
 " Then I am to understand " he began. 
 
 " Yes, yes ! Anything but that he " 
 
 The smile that belonged on the solicitor's face 
 came back to it. He pressed the hands he held with 
 a vice-like grip, and vanished rapidly from the apart- 
 ment. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 AN AMERICAN GIRL. 
 
 A FEW moments later the ears that had become 
 dulled in some sort with the rest of Mr. Gray's senses 
 heard angry and half-intelligible sounds proceeding 
 from the office. Mr. Neiling evidently did not re- 
 ceive with pleasure the news that had been brought 
 him. His voice, raised far above the usual height, 
 penetrated the inner chambers. Occasionally the
 
 AN AMERICAN GIKL. 91 
 
 lower but firm tones of the solicitor alternated with 
 his. 
 
 Not wishing to act the part of an eavesdropper 
 Gilbert went to one of the windows and threw it 
 open, admitting enough of the noise of the street to 
 drown the sounds within. The cold air blew grate- 
 fully on his heated forehead. He felt like one in a 
 dream. 
 
 What had he agreed to do ? He hardly knew. 
 The violence of his feelings had driven him to some- 
 thing desperate. Well, there was such a thing as 
 Fate ! He had been buffeted by Fortune, until voli- 
 tion was no longer left. The tide must take him 
 whither it listed, since he could not control the move- 
 ments of his barque. 
 
 As he stood in the cooling breeze a kind of reck- 
 lessness came in place of the old struggle. He had 
 given his word, and there was nothing now but to 
 act the role assigned him. 
 
 When Mr. Yates returned, Gilbert saw that he had 
 passed through an unpleasant experience. He was 
 flushed and heated. The perspiration dampened the 
 roots of the hair that hung carelessly over his white 
 forehead. His collar, usually the perfection of neat- 
 ness, was rumpled and his necktie out of place. 
 
 " Well, that matter is disposed of !" he remarked, 
 drawing a long breath, but not otherwise referring to 
 the interview he had just closed. " Now for business. 
 As so much time has been lost we shall have to pro- 
 ceed with celerity. You are a sensible fellow, and 
 will, I am sure, put nothing in the way of finishing 
 this affair as rapidly as possible;" 
 
 " I am in your hands," said Gilbert, simply.
 
 92 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 He was wondering what had happened in the office 
 to so affect the man of law. 
 
 " In the first place," said Mr. Yates, wiping his 
 brow, " you would like to know the name of your 
 future or I should say your already wedded bride ; 
 for, by the document which I shall soon have, you 
 were married on September 14, by the Rev. August 
 Voorhoe, at Amsterdam, to Gladys Eleanor, daughter 
 of Colonel Henry Newcombe of Chicago, Illinois." 
 
 An American girl ! Gilbert was glad to hear that 
 at least. 
 
 " But, do you tell me that a clergyman has con- 
 sented to alter the date of his certificate ?" he asked, 
 astounded. 
 
 " In the interest of a young girl's honorable future, 
 and for the consideration of five hundred guilders, 
 yes," smiled Mr. Yates. " It is a little Jesuitical, but 
 quite right, looked at from a broad standpoint. 
 Now, you would like to see a photograph of the lady 
 with whom your honeymoon is almost ended and 
 here you have it." 
 
 He produced a cabinet-sized picture from his 
 pocket as he spoke, and Gray uttered a slight scream 
 as his eyes fell upon it. 
 
 " The girl I saw at the theatre and in the Park !" 
 he cried. 
 
 " The same. Did I not tell you she was beautiful ? 
 I took you to the Park and theatre to show to her, as 
 I took others. It may flatter your pride when I add 
 that it was she who made the selection, rather than 
 I, though we agreed upon it perfectly." 
 
 The young man stared fixedly at the portrait. 
 
 "And she seemed so cold," he said. " So entirely
 
 AN AMERICAN GIRL. 93 
 
 different from what one would imagine. I am dumb- 
 founded at the idea that this can possibly be the pic- 
 ture of a girl who has passed through such experi- 
 ences." 
 
 The solicitor was recovering his equanimity, so 
 pleased was he at the final ripening of his long- 
 cherished plans. 
 
 "You must remember," he replied, "that Miss 
 Newcombe has had enough to dampen her spirits 
 and give her the reserved look you mistook for cold- 
 ness. During the past two months she has suffered 
 intensely. It will be your pleasant duty to drive 
 that clpud from her face. When the news of her 
 secret wedding has been imparted to her mother, 
 and that shock is ended, I think you will find the 
 natural brightness of her disposition returning. Of 
 course, much will depend upon the judgment with 
 which you treat her, but the worst should be over in 
 a week from to-day." 
 
 Mr. Gray asked, hesitatingly, and with a deep 
 blush, when the birth of the child was expected to 
 take place. 
 
 " The last of next June," was the answer. " At 
 which time you must manage to be far from here. 
 A northern climate is more favorable than Central 
 or Southern Europe for such events. But this is 
 too distant to need immediate discussion. It is your 
 present task to obtain, with your bride, the forgive- 
 ness of her father and mother." 
 
 Gray asked, half dazed, when he should meet the 
 father. 
 
 " Very soon. But you must see Mrs. Gray" (the 
 young man winced) " this afternoon, and agree upon
 
 94 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 the story you are to tell. It is necessary to have 
 the Colonel pretend ignorance of everything, and he 
 will carry out that role to the letter. When it is set- 
 tled that you met Miss Newcombe by chance in 
 Venice, or Rome, or Florence, last winter, where 
 your love ripened into a declaration ; and that, fear- 
 ing a rejection from the parents, you finally met 
 surreptitiously in Holland and were united there, it 
 will be for Miss Gladys to ' inform ' her father of these 
 'facts' and beg his paternal pardon. Colonel New- 
 combe, knowing best how to break the news to his 
 wife, will attend to that part of the affair. He will 
 say to her that, while the error of their child is a 
 grave one, it is best to overlook it with as few words 
 as possible, as he has discovered that you are a very 
 decent young fellow, who will not disgrace the fam- 
 ily. Then Mrs. Newcombe will forgive her daugh- 
 ter and clasp her to her motherly breast ; and the 
 next thing is for Gladys to bring her husband, who 
 will plead his excuses and accept the reconciliation 
 that awaits him." 
 
 The flippancy that frequently came into the man- 
 ner of the solicitor did not please his hearer, but he 
 could utter no complaint with good reason. He had 
 laid himself open to this kind of thing by accepting 
 his equivocal position. The deceptions he was asked 
 to practice were distasteful, but he saw no way to 
 escape them, and he bowed consent to each of the 
 schemes unrolled. He realized that a strain was 
 taken from the mind of Mr. Yates, and that the live- 
 liness of his discussion was partly the result of the 
 relief he felt. 
 
 Gilbert did not dare, in fact, to think too deeply
 
 AN AMERICAN GIRL. 95 
 
 about anything, lest he should be tempted to break 
 his word, the most dishonorable thing he could con- 
 ceive of at this stage of the affair. 
 
 After considerable further talk the solicitor left him 
 with the understanding that at three o'clock that 
 afternoon a meeting was to take place with Miss 
 Newcombe, at a private parlor in the hotel where she 
 was at present residing. 
 
 Going out of doors it struck the young man that 
 nothing would be more to his present mood than a 
 gallop in the Park. He wanted something to stir his 
 blood, that seemed stagnating in his veins. He felt 
 fully justified in ordering saddled the horse which 
 had been placed at his disposal by Mr. Yates, and 
 which he had mentally resigned the night before with 
 all his other elegancies. He therefore proceeded to 
 the stable and mounted the beast, and as Hyde Park 
 was nearer than Regent's he rode to the path there, 
 without a thought of the reasons that had induced 
 him for the past week to avoid it. 
 
 If he had forgotten for the moment the existence of 
 Mr. William Neiling, he was soon to be brought 
 back to a remembrance of it. He had ridden up the 
 path but a few seconds when he saw coming toward 
 him the object of his detestation, and evidently in 
 a mood quite the reverse of amiable. The horse 
 that Neiling rode was plunging fearfully, and on both 
 sides the blood showed where the relentless spur had 
 been pitilessly driven in. His bit was covered with 
 ioam and his nostrils were distended, while his eyes, 
 as could be seen at a glance, were bloodshot. Neil- 
 ing saw Gray at the same instant, and rode straight 
 at him ; a moment later the two animals collided
 
 96 LOVE GONE ASTBAY. 
 
 with terrific force, and lay with their riders, a tan- 
 gled heap on the ground. 
 
 Some people who saw the occurrence, together 
 with a policeman who was somehow found, hastened 
 to the spot, and held the horses' heads while the 
 riders were assisted to their feet. Gray, however, 
 discovered that he could only stand with help, one of 
 his ankles being sprained. The other, though con- 
 siderably bruised, was able to remount his horse, 
 and did so. 
 
 " It was this man's fault !" cried one of the 
 spectators, pointing to Neiling. 
 
 " Yes," .exclaimed another. " He rode straight 
 into the other gentleman, like it was a-purpose." 
 
 Neiling sat his animal with a very red face, brush- 
 ing the dirt from his clothes with a nonchalant air. 
 He saw Gray dispatch one boy for a carriage, and 
 give his beast to another, with directions where to 
 lead it. He evidently was for the nonce hors du 
 combat. 
 
 "Do you wish to enter a complaint, sir?" asked 
 the policeman, taking out his note-book. 
 
 It was Gray's first intention so to do, but at that 
 instant the pain in his ankle increased so much that 
 he was near swooning on the spot. 
 
 " No," he said, " I only want to get to my rooms." 
 
 He whispered the direction to the officer, who 
 gave it to the just arrived cabman. As he was 
 helped into the vehicle he heard a taunting laugh 
 from Neiling, who waited no longer, but galloped 
 rapidly away.
 
 HUSBAND AND WIPE. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 HUSBAND AND WIFE. 
 
 MR. YATES was still in his office when a man came 
 up the stairs to say that Mr. Gray had been injured 
 and required assistance to bring him to his apartment. 
 The solicitor hastened anxiously to the street, taking 
 two of his clerks with him. For several seconds he 
 had a terrible apprehension that an accident had 
 upset .all his carefully prepared plans. When he 
 reached Gray's side and learned the full extent of 
 the hurt to be a sprained limb, he breathed a sigh of 
 relief. The young man was carried bodily up the 
 stairway, for he could not now bear the least weight 
 on one foot, and a physician, who was summoned, 
 proceeded to swathe the affected part in bandages 
 and liniment, stating that no attempt to walk should 
 be made for some days. 
 
 Bad as this was, it might have been much worse. 
 When Mr. Yates had time to learn the manner in 
 which the injury was caused he thought Gray lucky 
 to have escaped as lightly as he did. It was a nasty 
 performance, he said, and one that might have re- 
 sulted even fatally. As toNeilings motive, he could 
 ot understand it. He had, no doubt, been working 
 himself into a passion over his disappointment, and 
 was ready to vent his spleen on any person who hap- 
 pened to get in his way. However, nothing wouid 
 be gained by a prosecution, as the unenviable notor- 
 iety of the case would affect his victim also.
 
 98 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 " Besides," added the solicitor, " he is going out 
 of the country, I understand, within a day or two, to 
 remain indefinitely. He told me as much," he ex- 
 plained, in response to Gray's inquiring glance. " I 
 only hope it is true and that he will stay as long as 
 he lives." 
 
 Gray eyed his companion intently from the place 
 on the sofa where the doctor had left him. 
 
 " He does not know you are sure that / am to 
 marry Miss Newcombe ?" 
 
 "Not by any means," was the decided answer. 
 " He has evidently conceived for you one of those 
 hatreds that some minds learn to entertain for their 
 benefactors. He is a disagreeable fellow, as I found 
 before he left this morning, and the best thing to do 
 is to dismiss him from our thoughts. Whether he 
 leaves England or not, you and the Newcombes will 
 go as soon as you are able to travel, and in the mean- 
 time you will not be about the streets where you can 
 meet him. Let us talk of matters that more immedi- 
 ately concern us. Are you able to hold a short in- 
 terview with your wife here this afternoon ?" 
 
 "With my wife?" repeated Gilbert, absently. 
 
 "With the lady to whom you were united in mar- 
 riage at Amsterdam in September last. You must 
 get used to this fact, must familiarize your mind 
 with these dates. When I send word to Mrs. Gray 
 that her husband has been injured she will fly to 
 your side. It even occurs to me that this accident 
 may prove of benefit to our cause, as it will furnish 
 a plausible excuse to reveal the truth don't dispute 
 my phrases to her father. While her husband was 
 well he could get along without her ; being ill he re-
 
 HUSBAND AND WIFE. 99 
 
 quires her care and attention. Every one sympa- 
 thizes with a man who smells of arnica. We shall 
 have her here shall we not ? at three o'clock, for a 
 preliminary rehearsal." 
 
 As Gray had put himself so thoroughly in the 
 hands of the man of law he made no objection to the 
 proposal. There was a certain advantage in receiv- 
 ing his bride while in this semi-helpless state. She 
 would not expect him, for instance, to offer any form 
 of affection, which was a gain of no little moment. 
 If he was paler than a man should be she would lay 
 it wholly to the effects of his fall and sprain ; and if 
 the interview was brief the same reason could be as- 
 signed. So he told Mr. Yates to bring him Miss 
 Newcombe he begged pardon, M-r-s. G-r-a-y at 
 the hour mentioned, and he would prepare for the 
 ordeal before him. 
 
 " That is arranged then," said the solicitor, rubbing 
 his hands together. " But bear in mind, please, that 
 you are not the only one who has an 'ordeal' to go 
 through. You will meet a very young girl who is 
 obliged to confess to you, by implication, a fault 
 which she would rather, ordinarily, sacrifice her life, 
 almost, than admit to a husband. Her mind will be 
 at an extreme nervous tension, which you must do 
 your best to relieve. Your conversation should be 
 kept to the largest degree upon matters that are 
 purely business in their nature No allusion or 
 insinuation, for instance, must be thought of at this 
 time, in reference to her condition." 
 
 The young man started so suddenly at this that he 
 wrenched his aching limb and uttered a cry of pain. 
 
 " You ought to know," he complained, his face con
 
 100 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 vulsed with suffering from a double cause, "that 
 such a warning is unnecessary. Not only to-day, but 
 never, if there is any way to prevent it, shall I allude 
 in the most remote degree to any peculiarity in that 
 matter. I trust, though my present position may 
 lead you to doubt it, that I have still in my veins the 
 blood of a gentleman !" 
 
 The solicitor made haste to dispel the disagreeable 
 effect of his suggestion, and when he had succeeded 
 in so doing he went to write the note to Mrs. Gray, 
 informing her of the reason why she must come to 
 his office instead of to the parlor of the hotel which 
 had formerly been designated for the meeting. 
 
 He smiled gravely as he began the epistle with the 
 words, " My Dear Mrs. G. : I regret to inform you 
 that your husband has met with a slight accident." 
 
 When he had placed the letter in an envelope he 
 did not write any address on the outside, but gave it 
 to his most faithful assistant, with orders to put it 
 into no hands but those of Colonel Newcombe's 
 daughter. 
 
 At the hour designated Gladys came to the office 
 and was escorted into Gilbert Gray's presence. Mr. 
 Yates remained only long enough to make his intro- 
 ductions, and then, with a fatherly smile, left them 
 together. 
 
 It took but a glance to show Mr. Gray the genuina 
 beauty of the young girl he had promised to take foi 
 his wife. Even the terrible suffering she had under 
 gone could not blot out the loveliness of her features^ 
 which must have been surpassingly handsome thre*. 
 short months before. Her form was rounded, show-
 
 HUSBAND AND WIFE. 101 
 
 ing an earlier than usual development, and she 
 dressed with a quiet taste that spoke volumes for her 
 judgment in such matters, Her eyes and hatr were 
 dark. 
 
 These observations were the easier made because 
 the girl kept her gaze riveted to the carpet for some 
 seconds after she entered the room. But before she 
 spoke Gilbert revised one opinion that had formed 
 itself unconsciously in his mind. There was nothing 
 in her of the iciness he had supposed. If she was 
 pale, she was not weak. Her veins were full of rich 
 blood that only the strangeness of the occasion had 
 driven from her cheeks. 
 
 And still she seemed withal the incarnation of 
 modesty and womanliness. He could not understand 
 no, not in the least how it could be true, what he 
 had heard of her. And there was nothing yet to tes- 
 tify, at least to his inexperienced eyes, the cause of 
 her presence in that chamber. 
 
 It was she who first broke the silence. 
 
 " I am sorry you have been hurt," she said, in a low 
 but rich voice. 
 
 " You are kind to say so," he answered, and his 
 own tones sounded strange to him, as if they were 
 another's. A horse collided with mine, as I was rid- 
 ing this morning. The doctor says I shall be out in 
 a week." 
 
 Then he paused, having reached the end of all he 
 wanted to say on that point. He realized now, with 
 eyes averted, that she was studying him as intently 
 as he had been studying her. She had as much rea- 
 son, perhaps. When a girl is to live with a. man for
 
 102 LOVE GONE: ASTRAY. 
 
 the rest of her days it is important to know what he 
 is like. 
 
 Gladys saw that her future lord was not ugly in 
 appearance, and that his bearing was agreeable, 
 though naturally somewhat strained at this time. 
 With a thought to the opinion of the world, which she 
 had begun, a little late, to care for, she decided that 
 he would satisfy conventionality as a suitable mate 
 for her. 
 
 " I am glad it is no worse," she said, when the si- 
 lence became painful. 
 
 She looked about the room, inspecting the pictures, 
 while he stole another searching glance at her fea- 
 tures. How, he asked himself again, could such a 
 girl as that be won to indelicacy ? It was incon- 
 ceivable. She, who could hardly muster courage to 
 talk there with him in a closed room, while he lay 
 helpless on a sofa ! This reflection was mirrored in 
 his countenance, when, turning suddenly to speak 
 again, she saw it there, and paused, with a crimson 
 cheek. 
 
 " Oh, this is too hard !" she exclaimed, bursting 
 into sobs. " Yes, it is too hard for both of us ! I 
 did not think you would mind not in the same way 
 I do ! I did not realize what it must mean to you !" 
 
 Much distressed, Gijbert Gray raised himself on an 
 elbow, and besought her to be calm. All the chiv- 
 alry in his nature was aroused. He pitied the girl 
 from the bottom of his heart. Her unexpected 
 flood of sensitiveness raised her immensely in his es- 
 timation. 
 
 "Everything is arranged now everything is un- 
 derstood, he answered, soothingly. " Mr. Yates has
 
 HUSBAND AND WIFE. 103 
 
 procured the certificate of of our marriage. Let 
 me beg you not to repeat these outbursts." 
 
 She arose, impulsively, and threw herself on the 
 floor by the side of the sofa, laying her head on his 
 bosom, while she wept softly. He was distressed as 
 much by this move as the former one, but he had 
 not the heart to forbid it. At least it led in the di- 
 rection they would ultimately have to take. 
 
 " Listen," he said, when she had grown a little 
 quieter. "We must understand everything exactly 
 alike. Let us see if we agree on all points, for as we 
 have one story to tell there must be no flaws. Miss 
 Newcombe I mean Mrs. Gray take your chair 
 again and let us see if there is anything in which we 
 differ." 
 
 The girl rose and took the seat designated, fixing 
 her gaze steadfastly on a figure in the carpet, and 
 answering with that parrot-like accuracy which often 
 accompanies preoccupation of mind. It was the 
 best course he could have taken. It avoided for the 
 present the shoals and quicksands of argument, for 
 which neither of them were prepared. 
 
 " As I understand it," he began, clearing his throat, 
 "we met by accident for the first time, in Venice, 
 over a year ago. Each was attracted 1 by the other, 
 although no word was then exchanged. The next 
 time we met was at the " 
 
 "The Palace of the Uffizi," she said, in a low 
 voice, taking up the strain. "There we learned each 
 other's names, and that both were Americans. Next 
 we were thrown together at a reception of the Amer- 
 ican minister in Rome " 
 
 Mr. Gray bowed in the affirmative.
 
 104 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 "Where, in one of the ante-rooms," he said, " I 
 begged permission to write to you, and you con- 
 sented, giving me a name under which I could ad- 
 dress my communications. From that time our love- 
 making took new life. I returned to America, and 
 not being able to live without you, returned, joining 
 you at Amsterdam last September. Then, fearing a 
 possible refusal from your parents, we decided to be 
 married secretly." 
 
 Gladys looked up at last. 
 
 "What a miserable tissue of lies it is !" she ex- 
 claimed. " How can I consent to let an innocent man 
 like you share the sin of those falsehoods with me !" 
 
 Gilbert placed a warning finger on his lips to indi- 
 cate that such expressions must not be used. 
 
 " There is no point in ouv story at which we dis- 
 agree," he said, " which is very good. The name of 
 the clergyman who married us was August Voorhoe. 
 We can be accused of injudiciousness, but of nothing 
 more. To-night you will go through the form of 
 telling your father " 
 
 The girl gave a cry and pressed her hands over 
 her face. 
 
 " Explaining that the accident do not forget 
 this the accident that has befallen me compels you 
 to reveal the truth and implore his forgiveness. He 
 will find it best to take a sensible view of what can- 
 not be helped, and will impart your confession, with 
 such excuses as he can find, to your mother." 
 
 There was another cry from the listener a spas- 
 modic exclamation that testified how deep was the 
 feeling the holy name inspired. 
 
 " Your mother," continued Gilbert, " will be guided
 
 HUSBAND AND WIFE. 105 
 
 by your father's superior force of will, and as soon 
 as I am able to walk they will receive us with forgiv- 
 ing arms." 
 
 Gladys began to sob again. The ingenious story 
 that the solicitor had invented differed so widely 
 from the cruel truth that it only accentuated and 
 emphasized the latter. Whatever face her father 
 might present to the world, whatever tale he might 
 be willing to adopt, she knew her fault had struck 
 him a blow from which his proud nature would 
 never recover. As for the mother, while she, in her 
 ignorance of the facts, would suffer less, there was 
 something in deliberate deceit to that loving and in- 
 dulgent relation that savored of the deepest villainy. 
 And to this must now be added the subornation of 
 another person to all this perjury. 
 
 " There !" said Gray, forcing a smile to his face in 
 the hope that it might bring one to hers. " It is all 
 settled, as far as you are concerned. The only thing 
 left is the blame that should properly fall on me for 
 securing the hand of an heiress when I have nothing 
 to offset to her worldly wealth. This I am prepared 
 to meet, but I prefer, if possible, that the exact truth 
 should be colored a little, to match with the rest of 
 these transactions. And as soon as possible I want 
 to be put in a position where my services may be 
 utilized. I have no desire to eat my wife's bread 
 after an opportunity of earning my own can be ob- 
 tained." 
 
 Gladys had tried several times to stop him while 
 he was saying these things, but he persisted to the 
 end. Then she chided him for his expressions and 
 said she hoped he would never repeat them. Com-
 
 A 06 LOVB GONE ASTKAT. 
 
 pared to the immense load he had agreed to carry, 
 these minor matters were not to be spoken of. Be- 
 tween her sentences there came waves of color and 
 little gasps that testified to her agitated state of 
 mind, and Mr. Gray forbore to pursue a subject that 
 evidently so much distressed her. At the end of an 
 hour they parted without special demonstration, 
 and a few minutes later a knock at the door came 
 from the solicitor, who inquired if he might enter. 
 
 " Well, you have been gettingalong nicely, I hope," 
 was his greeting. "Everything arranged, I trust." 
 
 " Everything," answered Gilbert. " Mrs. Gray 
 and I have no differences whatever." 
 
 In his delight at finding matters in such excellent 
 shape, the solicitor was in great spirits. 
 
 " A truly remarkable couple," said he. " May this 
 auspicious beginning find its parallel in long years of 
 contented life together. Your parts have been re- 
 hearsed, then, and you are both ready for the more 
 serious matter of playing them to the public. Let 
 me predict a successful debut in your new characters. 
 Seriously," he added, as he saw that his pleasantry 
 was not very cordially received, "I believe both of 
 you will look back upon this day as the happiest in 
 your careers. Whatever clouds there are will vanish. 
 You are sensible young people who will take care to 
 deepen the esteem you have already conceived for 
 each other. I learn from Mrs. Gray that you have 
 done magnificently." 
 
 "Thank you," was the quiet reply. "And now 
 will you let me ask with no intention of being 
 impolite that you will restrain your comments for 
 the future. I have acceded to all your requests. I
 
 * HUSBAND AND WIFE. 107 
 
 am now, I understand, the lawful husband of the lady 
 that has just left here. There is nothing, so far as I 
 know, that we cannot ourselves arrange in reference 
 to our affairs. From this moment I wish no word to 
 pass between you and me that alludes in the remotest 
 way to what has happened. I have married a 
 daughter of your client, if you please. The marriage 
 is now three months old. You have but recently dis- 
 covered it, and have set about the task of mediator 
 between the young couple and the parents. You 
 have succeeded or will by to-morrow in bringing 
 about a satisfactory state of affairs. Now, is there 
 any reason why you and I should have a different 
 understanding than that possessed by the rest of 
 mankind ? Shall we not forget, absolutely, all that 
 passed up to the hour when I came to your office and 
 told you that, on the fifteenth day of last September, 
 I was married at Amsterdam to Miss Gladys New- 
 combe ?" 
 
 Though somewhat taken aback by the manner in 
 which these suggestions were delivered, Mr. Yates 
 was obliged to admit that there was wisdom in them. 
 He therefore responded that he would accept the 
 situation, and do his best to forget that any other 
 had ever existed. 
 
 " Do you feel able," he asked, " to hold your inter- 
 view with Colonel Newcombe this evening? He 
 will be perfectly tractable and treat you with all 
 respect." 
 
 " I should be very glad to have it over," said Mr. 
 Gray. 
 
 " Very well, I shall ask him to come after dinner. 
 You have seen him once, indistinctly, perhaps, in my
 
 108 LOVE OOWE ASTBAT. 
 
 office. Do you remember the old gentleman who 
 had the toothache ? Ah ! Here is the doctor, who 
 wants to look at your ankle. Come right in, Dr. 
 Sullivan. Well, and how do you find him ?" 
 
 "A little heated, but doing nicely," replied the 
 physician, after counting the pulse beat slowly. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 "YOU MUST LET ME THANK YOU." 
 
 WHEN both the doctor and the solicitor had left 
 the room, Gilbert Gray was plunged into a pro- 
 longed reverie. His situation was so incredible that 
 he half believed all the events of the past month a 
 dream, from which he must, sooner or later, awake. 
 While he felt keenly the anomalous position into 
 which he had permitted himself to be drawn, he ac- 
 cepted it as inevitable, and would hardly have es- 
 caped if, by one dash for freedom, he could have 
 done so. The gentle demeanor of his bride impressed 
 him strongly. It was something to have brought 
 relief to that distracted mind. Placed by Fate in a 
 condition where he was not the master of his own 
 destiny, it was well that he had been used as an in- 
 strument of mercy to others. He resolved to make 
 the best of his marriage, and win whatever of credit 
 there might remain in a union entered upon so in- 
 gloriously. 
 
 The dinner that the domestic brought him was
 
 W TOU MUST LET ME THANK YOU." 109 
 
 fairly well treated, for the appetite of youth is hard 
 to destroy, and the injury to his ankle did not affect 
 his hunger. When the viands were cleared away he 
 lay quietly awaiting the interview which had been 
 arranged. It was like a surgical operation that could 
 not be avoided, and the best way was to endure it 
 with all possible equanimity. 
 
 As on the previous occasion, Mr. Yates only re- 
 mained in the room long enough to make his intro- 
 ductions, and to say that he hoped the meeting would 
 result agreeably to all parties concerned. When he 
 had gone, Colonel Newcombe, whose face Gray now 
 saw distinctly for the first time, seated himself in an 
 armchair, a little way from the couch. He was an 
 elderly man in years, and a decidedly old man in 
 appearance ; much older since the trouble in his 
 family, Gilbert had no doubt. There was a tired 
 look about his gray eyes, a feebleness in the move- 
 ments of his hands that told its own tale. He had a 
 large quantity of whitish hair that persistently fell 
 across his forehead in a style that might at a former 
 day have added to his good looks, but was now a 
 pathetic reminder of the suffering he had undergone. 
 He was tall, or had been, for the stoop of the broad 
 shoulders lowered his stature considerably. His 
 dress was careless, and his voice, naturally strong, 
 trembled. 
 
 There was a moment during which neither of them 
 spoke, and the clock at the other end of the room 
 ticked so loudly that both were aware of its sound. 
 
 Then Gray, mustering courage, and thinking it the 
 part of wisdom to set the conversation in the right 
 direction at the beginning, addressed his companion.
 
 110 LOVB GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 " I want to say to you," he began, " that I realize 
 the feelings you must have towards me, and hope 
 you will do as little as possible to emphasize that 
 point. Your daughter Gladys and I have committed 
 an indiscretion, no doubt. Both of us feel it now, 
 altogether too plainly. But, at the time we decided 
 to marry in Amsterdam, last September neither 
 foresaw the injurious effect of that course. Nothing 
 remains for me but to ask your forgiveness, and to 
 live hereafter in such a manner that you will forget 
 what has passed." 
 
 These things Gilbert uttered, not without many 
 pauses, and gropings for the right expressions. 
 When he had finished, unable to say another word, 
 he felt that he had acquitted himself very badly. 
 Colonel Newcombe listened, at first, with a look of 
 wonder on his distressed face, but gradually seemed 
 to comprehend the metaphor which Gray had elected 
 to use. When it became his turn to speak, however, 
 he could not bring himself to take up the thread that 
 was offered him. His sentiments were too deep for 
 masquerading. All he could do was to confine him- 
 self to the future. He knew very well that this man 
 was not responsible for his daughter's fall. He 
 knew that the marriage between them was but a few 
 hours old, and that the ante-dating of the documents 
 was the barest fraud. 
 
 " I have come here," he began, " to assure you 
 that I shall make the best of the situation, and treat 
 you sir as far as I can as if there was nothing 
 peculiar in this affair. If I am tempted to speak 
 of of anything that I would have given my life to 
 have had otherwise I will try to suffer in silence.
 
 "TOtT MUST LET MB THANK YOU.** Ill 
 
 You are represented to me as a young man of good 
 character, and of a good family. Your appearance 
 is decidedly in your favor." 
 
 To these kind remarks Gilbert returned a bow, 
 which hid for a moment the blush they brought to 
 his cheek. He felt that the worst was over, and that 
 he had nothing to dread from this man. He there- 
 fore went on to speak of his former life, of his 
 orphaned youth, of his travels with Mr. Blair, and of 
 his surprise at learning that the fortune he had 
 expected to inherit had vanished. 
 
 " I have not ten pounds that I can call my own,"* 
 he said, candidly. " But I have youth, sir, and cour- 
 age, and perhaps a little ability ; and I hope you will 
 soon help me to some employment that will relieve 
 me from the shame of idleness." 
 
 It was plain that these remarks were agreeable to 
 Colonel Newcombe, and that their effect was to lift 
 in some small degree the cloud that hung upon his 
 face. He had begun already to like this young 
 man. 
 
 " We will talk of that in good time," he said. 
 " When I return to America, which " (he paused a 
 moment) " will not be for for a year or so, something 
 can be arranged. At present, however, it is not to be 
 thought of, for you will have some some traveling, 
 and some other duties. I wish you to feel, Mr. 
 Gray, that you are now my son, and that the greatest 
 treasure " (he gasped), "that I own yes, still the 
 greatest treasure, except my wife is in your hands. 
 While you give her the care and attention she needs at 
 present, I want you to think of nothing else. When the
 
 112 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 right time comes we will talk about it. Yes, we 
 will talk about it." 
 
 The rest of the time that Colonel Newcombe re- 
 mained was passed in a general discussion of the 
 manner in which the year ensuing should be passed, 
 and the two men found themselves in perfect accord. 
 
 " I want to take your hand," said the Colonel, as 
 he rose to depart. " I wish you to feel that you 
 have a friend who fully appreciates who is glad 
 that a ray of good fortune, that came with so much 
 that was ill, threw you in his way. And I hope," he 
 added, " that you will soon be able to be about, and 
 none the worse for the misadventure of this morn- 
 ing." 
 
 The proffered grasp was taken and returned witn 
 interest, and the tall, bent form of the elder man 
 passed through the doorway and disappeared. 
 
 Five minutes later Mr. Yates came in and looked a 
 hundred questions from his business-like eyes. 
 
 " Everything is satisfactory," said Gray, shortly. 
 from his place on the sofa, and turned the conversa- 
 tion so abruptly into other fields that the solicitor 
 took the plain hint and did not refer to the Newcombe 
 family again that night. 
 
 On the succeeding afternoon, when Mrs. Gray 
 came to see her husband, she brought tidings that 
 the news had been broken to her mother, and that 
 she had received it as well as could possibly have 
 been hoped. Mrs. Newcombe worshiped her child, 
 and when the case was presented with due artfulness 
 by the Colonel, as one in which the heart had been 
 too strong for the judgment, she found excuses for 
 her child, and took her to her arms.
 
 "YOU MUST LBT ME THANK YOU." 113 
 
 **3he wants to see you, too," added the young wife, 
 blushing, "at the earliest possible moment. That 
 is the worst trial we shall have to go through with- 
 at present and it seems to me the hardest. My 
 dear mother has been so good, so indulgent, we have 
 been such companions ! It is terrible to deceive 
 her, even for her own good." 
 
 Tears followed these remorseful expressions, but 
 Mr. Gray interposed to stop them. 
 
 " I want to ask you, very earnestly," he said, " to 
 say nothing more now or at any time in the future 
 in reference to these matters. I plant myself on one 
 statement -that you and I were married three months 
 and more ago. In my conversation with your father 
 nothing else was allowed to be intimated ; nothing 
 should be between you and me. We must accustom 
 ourselves to that story, and forget that we ever 
 believed otherwise. Your father has forgiven us for 
 that marriage in Amsterdam made without his 
 consent. Your mother is ready to give us her blessing, 
 notwithstanding the same act of thoughtlessness on 
 our part. We have the whole world to face, and 
 unless the truth the truth, understand is very clear 
 in our minds, we shall have a difficult task." 
 
 Slowly his plan dawned upon her mind, and when 
 she fully understood it she came to his side and 
 would have fallen at his feet again in her gratitude 
 as she did the day before. 
 
 "No, not there!" he exclaimed. "You are for- 
 getting the very alphabet of your lesson. Do you 
 not comprehend ? We married for love ; we are 
 devoted lovers ! A prostrate wife at my feet would 
 tell another tale. Accidents may happen. A door
 
 114 LOVK GONE A8TBAT. 
 
 that we think locked may admit a suspicious in. 
 truder. A crevice may carry a sound that will 
 expose us, if we fail in consistency. You are my 
 wife ; we are still in the stages of the honeymoon. 
 We have passed a dangerous point of securing the 
 favor of your parents. For us this day can bring 
 nothing but joy. That troubled look on your face 
 must give way to one of happiness. Think ! In a 
 few days, as soon as I am able to be on my feet, we 
 shall have to show our bliss to the public. Already 
 a dispatch has been wired to America, informing all 
 who know us of our marriage." 
 
 Dazed by the reiteration of these things, Gladys 
 held her breath. 
 
 " A dispatch !" she echoed, faintly. 
 
 " Exactly. Shall I read it to you ?" He took a 
 paper from his pocket. Here it is, copied word for 
 word : 
 
 " ' American society will be surprised to learn of an inter- 
 esting event that has just transpired in London, after being 
 kept a positive secret for more than three months. It is the 
 marriage of Gladys Eleanor, only daughter of Colonel and 
 Mrs. Henry Newcombe, of Chicago, to Mr. Gilbert Gray of 
 New York. The young couple have made their peace with 
 their elders and are said to be the happiest pair in England. 
 They will remain abroad for some time longer, on account 
 of Mrs. Newcombe's health, which continues delicate.'" 
 
 Gladys stared hard at her husband. 
 
 " And that has been sent to an American paper ?" 
 she repeated. 
 
 "To a hundred of them to the Associated Press, 
 which reaches all the great morning journals. Who
 
 "YOU MUST LET ME THANK YOU.** 115 
 
 sent it ? / did. It was one of the duties that fell to 
 me. I had concealed my marriage from the world ; 
 it was time I admitted it. The quickest way was 
 through the newspapers. So I sent it to the London 
 agent, in my own handwriting." 
 
 The young woman could only shake her head in 
 bewilderment. She thought of her friends in 
 Chicago and elsewhere, agog over the tidings. But 
 it was one of the things that had to come, and this 
 was, as Mr. Gray said, the easiest way to announce 
 it. 
 
 " Now, Gladys " he began again, and paused 
 
 as he saw her eyes open widely. 
 
 " What is the matter ?" he asked. " At the end of 
 three months' married life, should I not call you by 
 your Christian name when we are alone ? You will 
 understand, if you stop to think, how necessary all 
 these little things may be to our success in the busi- 
 ness we have undertaken. I cannot be your husband 
 part of the day, and somebody else the rest. We 
 cannot have met this week for the first time, and still 
 have been married a hundred days. It is husband 
 and wife with us and an affectionate husband and 
 wife or we are irretrievably lost ! I agreed (that 
 day in Amsterdam) to love, honor, and cherish you 
 as long as I should live. It is my duty to carry out 
 to the full that obligation. And I am ready to do it. 
 I should go upon the witness stand, if necessary, and 
 raise my right hand to Heaven, to swear to that day 
 and certificate. You are a part of me as much so 
 as my arms or my eyes. That is why, when I can 
 hear nothing from others against my wife I shall
 
 116 LOTS GONB ASTRAY. 
 
 also refus to hear anything of the kind from her. 
 All this must end, Gladys, here and now." 
 
 At the mention of her first name, Mrs. Gray 
 started again. She was much impressed with the 
 deep significance of what she had heard. But, as 
 before, the immensity of the responsibilities she had 
 placed upon this stranger rose before her like a sec- 
 tion of the Alps. He had taken upon himself a load 
 that might break him down. And for what? Was 
 there anything on the other side of the bargain to 
 compensate for the requirements he had conceived 
 so fully and was so well prepared to execute ? Again 
 she wanted to fall on her knees to him. It seemed 
 as if no other position was becoming to her in his 
 presence. 
 
 " Mr. Gray," she stammered, when she could com- 
 mand her voice. 
 
 **I beg your pardon,** he interrupted, very gently 
 but also very firmly. ** That name will not do when we 
 are in private." 
 
 She reddened and with the greatest effort began 
 again. 
 
 " G-i-i-b-e-r-t 
 
 " Well, Gladys ?" 
 
 "You will you must let me thank you, only this 
 once, from the bottom of my heart !" 
 
 ** I will let you do nothing of the kind," he smiled. 
 Then, to change the subject, he added, " I want to 
 leave these rooms as soon as I can. The doctor 
 thinks I can bear moving by day after to-morrow. 
 Shall you be ready for me then ?" 
 
 She sprang from her chair with a frightened look. 
 Ready for him ! Ready for him / This man talked
 
 "YOU MUST LET MB THANK YOU. 117 
 
 of coming to live with her ! This man whom she 
 had never spoken to till yesterday ! 
 
 " I don't know," she ejaculated, a syllable at a 
 time. "Are you not comfortable here?" 
 
 He understood what was passing in her mind, and 
 for an instant he was angry. 
 
 " It is not that," he answered, " but these quarters 
 are unsuitable for a lady, and a young husband and 
 his wife cannot be separated without danger of crit- 
 icism. To-morrow the dispatch printed this morn- 
 ing in the United States, will be reproduced in 
 London, and the people who know you here will 
 expect to find you where a wife belongs, by her hus- 
 band's' side." 
 
 It was true. There was no denying what was so 
 plain. She was his wife, recorded as such on the 
 register, announced as such to the world. He had a 
 right to demand that she fulfill her contracts. 
 
 "I I will talk with my father about it, and 
 make arrangements," she whispered. 
 
 But she had grown very pale.
 
 US LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 CONFESSING TO MAMM> 
 
 THE sprain on Mr. Gray's limb was so far re- 
 covered from, on the fourth day after it occurred, 
 that he could walk with the aid of a cane, and he 
 took the opportunity of going in a carriage to 
 the hotel where his wife and her family re- 
 sided, to pay the visit to Mrs. Newcombe for which 
 that lady was anxiously waiting. In the meantime 
 he had had another interview with the Colonel, and 
 two with Gladys, which served to make them all feel 
 better acquainted. 
 
 The interesting character of a semi-invalid served 
 him a good turn on his first meeting with his mother- 
 in-law, acting as an excuse for shortening the con- 
 versation between them. Mrs. Newcombe met him 
 with tact, bidding him welcome in discreet terms, 
 and saying with great grace that her daughter's hus- 
 band would always seem a son to her. She was far 
 from strong, as could easily be seen, and Gilbert 
 thought, in spite of his resolutions not to dwell on 
 such things, that a knowledge of the truth would 
 certainly have killed her outright. 
 
 The spectacle of the daughter hiding her face in 
 her mother's bosom while the latter relieved the sit- 
 uation with her thoughtful words, was very affecting. 
 Whatever Gladys Newcombe might have done, the 
 attachment to her mother was too deep to be ques- 
 tioned. And, at last, when Mrs. Newcombe gently
 
 CONFESSING TO MAMMA. 119 
 
 forced her child to lift her eyes and receive a warm 
 kiss, the tears that flowed down the young cheeks 
 were tempered with a sad smile that could not have 
 been simulated. 
 
 " I have wondered, for some weeks," said the 
 sweet mother voice, " what made my little girl so 
 absent-minded and why the laugh I was accustomed 
 to hear had been stilled. I tried to have her consult a 
 physician, but she declared that she was quite well, 
 and only the victim of a melancholy that would soon 
 >ass off. She should have known her parents better 
 than to conceal her marriage from them. However 
 we might feel, she was sure of our pardon and our 
 love. 'The young heart cannot always control its 
 impulses, and a wise parent is the best friend. But," 
 she added, " we are very glad that our daughter 
 fixed her choice on so good a man, and one with 
 whom we cannot doubt she will be happy." 
 
 To this Mr. Gray replied in a few words, impress- 
 ing Mrs. Newcombe by his manner, which she found 
 very agreeable. Colonel Newcombe did not open 
 his lips once during the interview, but signified> 
 when appealed to by his wife's eyes, that he fully 
 agreed with her. The advice of Mr. Gray's physi* 
 cian that he undergo no unnecessary fatigue was 
 quoted, and the very brief meeting with his new 
 parents closed. 
 
 " I want you to go back to my rooms with me," 
 said Gilbert to his wife, as they passed out of Mrs. 
 Newcombe's parlor. " It is necessary," he explained. 
 " The public eye is already upon us, my dear. A re- 
 porter of the Telegraph called this morning to ask 
 about my marriage, and I had to explain why I was
 
 120 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 living in those chambers instead of with you. On 
 account of the accident which I sustained, he will in- 
 form his readers to-morrow, I feared to frighten you 
 by being taken helpless into your presence. I there- 
 fore used the rooms to which I had gone for the 
 doctor's examination, and have since been unable to 
 leave them. You will come with me for that reason 
 and for another. I have had a talk witli your 
 father, and we have agreed upon some things which 
 I want to discuss with you." 
 
 Much agitated at the prospect, Gladys saw no 
 excuse for refusing, and went obediently to get ready 
 for the ride. The carriage was a closed one, and she 
 met no person on the way, so far as she knew, who 
 recognized her. But there was a strange sensation 
 in being shut in with this man of whom she knew 
 so little that seemed to choke her. 
 
 She feared each moment that he would presume 
 upon his proximity to make some move that she 
 dreaded. It was very well for him to marry her 
 that was a most convenient act ; but to claim the 
 privileges that go with matrimony, she felt was a far 
 different thing. 
 
 Gilbert, however, to her great joy, limited his re- 
 marks to the scenes through which they were passing, 
 and they reached his rooms, including the climb of 
 the stairs, without special incident. There was an 
 entrance that could be used without passing through 
 the office of Mr. Yates, and they availed themselves 
 of it. 
 
 " Well, Gladys," said the husband, after locking 
 the door, to the mute horror of the young lady, " here 
 we are again."
 
 CONFESSING TO MAMMA. 121 
 
 He was undoubtedly her lord and master before the 
 law and before the world, but she was very slow to 
 recognize this fact in its full significance. She did 
 not take a chair, as he waived his hand for her to do, 
 but stood before him a picture of uneasiness. 
 
 " Why do you lock the door ?" she asked. " You 
 do not think I will run away, do you ?" 
 
 " Not at all," he smiled. " I did it to keep others 
 from entering, under any pretense, without being in- 
 vited. Particularly," and here the smile left his face, 
 "our good friend, the solicitor." 
 
 She looked at him searchingly. 
 
 " He would not enter unannounced," she replied. 
 " I think Mr. Yates claims to be a gentleman." 
 
 "Does he?" inquired Gray, as if unprepared to 
 admit so much. " Then I will give him no oppor- 
 tunity to prove he is not one. An accidental lift- 
 ing of that latch, on the plea that he did not know 
 we were here, is undesirable at this time. Conse- 
 quently I have turned the key. Now, Gladys " 
 each time he used this name the young wife started 
 "this is not what I asked you here to talk about 
 There is a matter of much greater importance. I 
 have taken you for my wife. The announcement of 
 that fact is spread over two hemispheres. We are 
 as solidly married, as far as the law goes, as we can 
 ever be. But if I stay here and you at your hotel 
 are you listening ? doubts as to our condition will 
 inevitably arise. We must live under one roof, we 
 must act like married people if we expect the public 
 to believe what we claim." 
 
 Do her best, Gladys could not conceal the agita- 
 tion that she was experiencing. She opened and
 
 12fi LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 closed her eyes, looked at her husband repeatedly, 
 and away again, clenched and unclenched her hands. 
 And he missed nothing of these evidences of what 
 was passing in her mind. 
 
 "You might think, you might remember," she an- 
 swered, tremblingly, after a long pause, " how little I 
 know of you, how recently we have met. You should, 
 you ought, you must, give me time. It is not you 
 can see it is not the same as if we had been married 
 in the usual way, as if you had made love to me and 
 I had accepted you, and that sort of thing. And 
 then there is another reason," and she uttered a 
 sob ''another reason that I cannot talk about. I 
 appreciate all you are doing for me oh! don't 
 doubt that ! but," she fell back faintly into the old 
 form of expression " you should think, you should 
 remember !" 
 
 Her eyes opened and closed again, her hands 
 clenched and unclenched, her lips were drawn in 
 until they appeared as white as her forehead. 
 
 The husband did not interrupt her, for he knew it 
 was best to let her say all she wished and in her own 
 way. 
 
 " Excuse me for remarking," he answered, coldly, 
 when he saw she had finished, " that the sentiments 
 you impute to me are not complimentary. As far as 
 words can be clear and distinct, I want you to under- 
 stand my position. I desire nothing, I would accept 
 nothing, but an opportunity to carry out the agree- 
 ment I have made with you. I am not going to be put, 
 nor will I allow you to be put, into any ridiculous 
 position. We are married, and we must act as if so 
 to all interested in that fact. Your father and I are
 
 CONFESSING TO MAMMA.. 123 
 
 in perfect accord in this matter. We must live under 
 one roof. The people who see us nearest, the friends 
 who call, the servants who wait upon us, must have 
 nothing to arouse their suspicions. We must there 
 is no other word, we must occupy the same suite of 
 apartments. But understand me now, if you never 
 do again that suite shall always, when its outer 
 door are closed, find you at one end and me at the 
 other !" 
 
 There was an earnestness in the young man's 
 tone that approached fierceness. Gladys was fright- 
 ened as she felt how thoroughly he meant what he 
 said, even while her heart gave a leap of delight. 
 She did not want him to hate her she wanted to be 
 on good terms with him. 
 
 " You are speaking bitterly," she said, with a slight 
 touch of reproach in her voice. 
 
 " I am using the best words I can to convey my 
 meaning," he answered, sharply. " There are a 
 thousand things I ought to say, but I cannot bring 
 myself to say them. Suffice it that while the world 
 calls me your husband, and must find no cause to 
 doubt it, I shall be only your brother until until a 
 very long time has elapsed if ever." 
 
 She shivered at the ominous ending. 
 
 " You are not angry with me, I hope," she said t 
 gently 
 
 " Oh, no. It is only that I want you to com- 
 prehend my full intentions, that this conversation 
 may answer once for all. You and I have made a 
 bargain that most people would not think to our 
 credit, if they understood it perfectly. My reward is 
 to be paid in cash*- there is no other way to put the
 
 124 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 cold, bald fact, I shall take it in cash, according te 
 the letter of the bond. In return I shall give you 
 the protection of my name, which the world thinks 
 unsullied, and my companionship to whatever ex- 
 tent is needed to satisfy Mrs. Grundy. As to the 
 rest, let us be candid. I do not love you ; neither do 
 you love me ; and without love I would accept a 
 caress from no living woman, unless it were in the 
 honest, open market where such goods are sold with- 
 out pretense. Gladys, if these things sound harshly, 
 they have more kindness than any sneaking evasion." 
 
 Was it the native discontent latent in woman's 
 nature that made her dissatisfied at what she had 
 most wished to hear? 
 
 " This being the case," he proceeded, after waiting 
 to see if she had any comment to make, " I think it 
 wise to leave England immediately and go to some 
 place where we are not known, there to learn the 
 habit of appearing before the world in our new 
 capacity. Your father has consented, as far as he is 
 concerned, that we should go to the south of France 
 and stay until he joins us. Your mother will, I am 
 sure, when he presents the matter to her in its right 
 light, feel as he does. At the end of a month or so, 
 or sooner if an emergency arises, they will come to 
 us." 
 
 There was no flaw in his reasoning, but Gladys 
 felt her hands growing numb as she thought of leav- 
 ing her mother, and in the sole company of this man, 
 who was still to her almost a stranger. She could 
 not doubt the sincerity of his statements, and yet she 
 had a nameless fear of the untried life that lay Before
 
 CONFESSING TO MAMMA. 
 
 her. Oh, it had so many hardships in it, this new 
 relation she had been so eager to secure ! 
 
 "Where do you think of going ?" she asked. 
 
 " To Cannes, or its vicinity." 
 
 " I should certainly meet people there whom I 
 know," she said. 
 
 " But not as many as you would here. If you 
 meet a few it can do no harm. They have got to 
 see your husband, some time." 
 
 A rosy hue spread over the fair cheek at the insinu- 
 ation, and the wife ceased to argue. She saw the 
 inconsistency of objecting. She did not wish to 
 seem opposed to her husband's wishes when there 
 was nothing vital at stake. The only trouble was 
 that each step came so hard. She must shut her 
 eyes and make the plunge, since it was necessary.* 
 
 "Very well," she said. "I will leave it entirely to 
 you. It is the first time I have ever been so far from 
 mamma, but I won't mind that any more than I can 
 help. If we are going it might as well be at once, 
 and, as you say, she can be sent for if necessary. 
 And I don't want you to think," she added, earnestly, 
 " that I intend to oppose you in anything that is 
 right. You realize how new all this is to me, how 
 completely I have been under the care of my mother 
 and father you realize it all, I am sure, and you 
 must have a great deal of patience till I get a little 
 used to things." 
 
 Gilbert Gray could control his tongue but not his 
 thoughts ; and he wondered, more than ever, how 
 this mother's girl, this father's pet, had strayed so 
 far from maidenly reserve and duty as to have come
 
 12$ LOVB GONE ASTBAY. 
 
 to her present pass. But he shook off these reflec- 
 tions with all the force he could muster. 
 
 He had not only to forgive he must try also to 
 forget ! 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " GOOD-NIGHT, GLADYS." 
 
 MRS. NEWCOMBE, thoroughly under the influence of 
 her husband, agreed with but slight resistance to the 
 departure of the young couple, " a little in advance 
 of us," as she put it, for the exact date she was to fol- 
 low was not yet arranged. She troubled Mr. Gray, 
 when he came for his good-byes, by covert allusions 
 to the natural desire of young married people to be 
 away from their elders, where they could enjoy with 
 absolute freedom the society of each other. She had 
 once been of their age, she told them, and her mem- 
 ory was good. Ah ! they should make the most of 
 their youth and their love, for years crept on and 
 there would be an end to all things earthly. If only 
 their affection grew brighter with the lapse of time, 
 as hers and her husband's had done, they could ask 
 for nothing sweeter. 
 
 And to this play of words Gilbert and Gladys lent 
 themselves with whatever was necessary to deceive, 
 while the sober face of Colonel Newcombe, with its 
 new lines of pain and care, chided even when it en- 
 couraged the deception.
 
 "GOOD-NIGHT, GLADYS." 127 
 
 At parting, Gilbert bent above the sweet counte- 
 nance of his mother-in-law, and kissed her reverently 
 on the forehead. At which she drew him down and 
 pressed her lips to his cheek, declaring at the last 
 moment that Gladys could not be in better hands 
 than his, and that he had her entire confidence and 
 love. 
 
 " Here is Gladys' purse and yours," said Colonel 
 Newcombe, pressing it into Gray's hand, when they 
 retired to be for a few minutes alone. " And here is 
 a letter of credit that you will use at your discretion. 
 Say nothing, I pray you, about this matter, but con- 
 sider yourself, as I told you before, one of my fam- 
 ily, and entitled to a full share of all I have. I also 
 want you to know that I like you more than I ever 
 dreamed I should, and that there has been a weight 
 lifted from my heart since I have found to what a 
 true man the happiness of my child is intrusted." 
 
 Nothing was to be gained by any reply to this 
 speech, except a simple " Thank you, Colonel." and 
 an hour later the Dover mail bore the wedded pair 
 rapidly toward the Channel. Gray was not surprised 
 because his wife curled herself into a corner of the 
 compartment and wept softly during most of the 
 journey. She had enough to weep for, God knew ! 
 and tears, he had often heard, were a blessing to 
 women in trouble. The kindest thing was to ar- 
 range her wraps about her with a gentle hand, and 
 leave her to herself. 
 
 At the steamer pier he assisted her to the ladies' 
 cabin, glad to remember that the rules prevent men 
 and women occupying that part of the boat together, 
 and gave special directions to the stewardess, accoiP'
 
 128 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 panied with a good fee, to make madame as com- 
 fortable as possible. Then he went into the men's 
 cabin, and lighting a cigar, passed the time before 
 reaching France in contemplating his future in 
 wreaths of smoke. 
 
 When he went for his wife, on the arrival of the 
 steamer at Calais, he found that she had dried her 
 tears for the nonce, in the experience of a new form 
 of discomfort, for which they offered no relief. She 
 had suffered from nausea, and presented a most dis- 
 consolate spectacle, as women are apt to do on such 
 occasions. She clung closer to her husband as he 
 took her to the train, and shivered as the wintry wind 
 blew around the corners, with a suggestion of fine 
 snow in the air. When the train started she began 
 to talk, referring to her illness on the boat, and show- 
 ing her feminine nature by remarks in relation to 
 her appearance, to which he gave suitable replies. 
 
 The compartment was also occupied by another 
 couple, a young man and woman whom no one could 
 doubt were on the first day of their wedding trip. 
 The young woman nestled close to her husband, and 
 laughed when he " tucked " the couvertures about 
 her feet, and felt occasionally to see if her gloved 
 hands were as warm as they should be. Their con- 
 versation, which did not lag for an instant, was con- 
 ducted in so low a tone that the man's lips almost 
 and once or twice quite touched his companion's 
 cheek. Happiness, the purest and sweetest that is 
 given to the children of men, was theirs. And the 
 couple who sat in the other corner felt the contrast in 
 all its intensity. 
 
 This girl, thought Gladys, might also be leaving
 
 "GOOD-NIGHT, GLADYS." 129 
 
 her father and mother for the first time, but in the 
 overpowering love for her wedded mate, she could 
 feel her heart throb with joy even after that parting. 
 In the new arms to which she was going, Nature 
 would teach her to forget for the nonce those that 
 had so long been her refuge. Against the breast of 
 this lover she would find compensation for the one 
 which had nursed her baby lips. With this cham- 
 pion to fight her battles, she could spare the father 
 who had guarded her from every danger since her 
 little feet took their first step. 
 
 " And I !" reflected Gladys. " I ! What have I 
 thrown 'away what have I gained in exchange for 
 all this ? If only the past could come again, and I 
 could see these things as I see them now !" 
 
 Gilbert thought of it all, too. He saw, as in a 
 mirror, what he might, under happier conditions, 
 have enjoyed. But the beggar who watches an im- 
 perial progress does not think ill of the emperor ; 
 and while grinding his teeth together in an effort to 
 forget, he had only good wishes for the ecstatic 
 couple whose delight mocked his contrasted state. 
 
 It had been decided to remain over night in Paris, 
 and three pleasant rooms at the Grand Hotel had 
 been engaged by wire. A bright fire was burning 
 in the grate of the sitting-room, where shortly after 
 their arrival a pleasant repast was served. Gilbert 
 asked his wife, when the dinner was cleared away, 
 if she would like to take a ride or a walk, and she 
 replied that the journey had tired her a little, and she 
 believed she did not care to. She said, however, 
 that he must feel quite free to go if he wished, and
 
 130 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 he thanked her, saying he believed a stroll of an 
 hour would do him good. 
 
 When he returned, not one hour but three later, 
 he was surprised to find her still up. 
 
 "You should have gone to bed, my dear," he said, 
 kindly. 
 
 " I I will go now," she stammered. " I I did 
 not know which room was mine." 
 
 He laughed, a little uneasily ; she looked sadder 
 than he liked to see her. 
 
 " The choice is for you to make," said he. " Let 
 us go and inspect them." 
 
 But she remained by the open grate, and let him 
 go alone. 
 
 " It is hard to choose," he said, when he returned, 
 " but, on the whole, I think the further one is a 
 little the best, and I suggest that you take that." 
 
 He was so honest, so sincere, that her confidence 
 made a great leap. 
 
 " I don't see why I should have the best," she an- 
 swered, looking hard at the fire. " It seems to me 
 that it is you, Mr. Gray " 
 
 " Not Mr. Gray, but Gilbert," he interpolated. 
 
 "It seems to me" (she avoided any name at all) 
 " t\\a\.you ought to have the best. I owe so much to 
 you. I hope you think me grateful " 
 
 He broke in upon her again. 
 
 " I cannot hear another word like that," he said, 
 "now or at any time. Come, it is late. Good- 
 night." 
 
 She bit her lip at the reproof, gathered up the 
 wraps that lay about the room and turned to leave.
 
 "GOOD-NIGHT, GLADYS." 131 
 
 At the threshold she faced about, with hei hand ex- 
 tended. 
 
 " Good-night, Mr. I mean, Gilbert," she said, with 
 a supreme effort. 
 
 "Good-night, Gladys," he answered, taking the 
 hand and releasing it at once. " Sleep well, and as 
 late as you like. Remember, we do not take the 
 train till evening." 
 
 The door closed behind her, and for an instant 
 Gilbert Gray's head fell into the palms of his hands, 
 while a stifled groan issued from his lips. Then he 
 roused himself and took a few steps up and down the 
 room. 
 
 " If I had known how hard this would be, I never 
 could have agreed to it," he muttered. " But one 
 gets used to everything in time. Mrs. Gray ' Mrs. 
 Gray,' ha, ha ! my wife Gladys what can it be 
 but a nightmare from which I shall pass to a quieter 
 sleep as I get used to my surroundings ? The days 
 will probably come when I am accustomed to her 
 presence, and she has ceased to be annoyed at mine. 
 And the price I bargained for will be paid with 
 promptness, so much money in exchange for a name ! 
 I have a part of it here, in my pocket, honestly de- 
 livered by her father. He will fulfill his contracts 
 and I must fulfill mine." 
 
 He stretched his arms above his head and closed 
 his eyes with a prolonged sigh. 
 
 " I must not fail in one jot or tittle, no, not in one. 
 She is my wife, and has been for more than a hundred 
 days I am prepared to swear it on all the Bibles in 
 Christendom. Her child when it is born is my 
 legitimate offspring. Her child "
 
 132 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 The stretched arms fell slowly to the speaker's side, 
 as another thought came. A thought that made his 
 brain to whirl and his teeth to chatter, that pointed 
 its bony finger at him and hissed defiance from its 
 gumless teeth : 
 
 *' The real father of that child is doubtless living, and 
 you may yet find him standing across your path .'" 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 LIFE ON THE RIVIERA. 
 
 THERE is almost nothing to which the human 
 mind cannot grow accustomed. The wretch sen- 
 tenced to twenty years in prison finds the first month 
 harder than any six that follow it. Gladys Gray 
 gradually became used to the presence of her hus- 
 band, which at first gave her such vivid alarm. The 
 thoughtfulness with which he treated her contributed 
 much to this result. She grew to regard him with- 
 out apprehension, to consider his proximity no men- 
 ace to that tranquillity of mind she had so much need 
 of regaining. He inflicted his company on her just 
 as much as was expedient for the role he had to 
 play, and never any more than that. To the world 
 he presented the spectacle of a young and loving 
 husband. When the curtains had shut out the eyes 
 of mankind he was only the respectful friend, the 
 obliging and unobtrusive attendant.
 
 LIFE ON THE RIVIERA. 133 
 
 Gilbert, also, began to find his new position easier 
 as time passed on. But for the spectre that had 
 been raised a possible appearance of the father of 
 his child he might have settled into a dull sort of 
 contentment with his lot. That spectre, like others 
 of its ilk, came and went, appearing sometimes in a 
 guise that drove sleep from his eyelids, and then van- 
 ishing for days. When the ghost haunted him most 
 severely he would vow to make inquiries at one of 
 the sources from which information might be ob- 
 tained, and learn something of the man who was re- 
 sponsible for the lapse in virtue of this lovely and 
 till then innocent creature. He wanted to learn 
 whether this fellow might not return to annoy the 
 woman he had so greatly wronged ; whether he 
 really knew the extent of the harm he had done her ; 
 whether his low mind might not lead him, in the lat- 
 ter case, to attempt to gain some advantage through 
 the fears he could excite. 
 
 Mr. Gray felt that he ought to know these things, 
 in order to make preparation should any annoyance 
 be inflicted upon his wife. He had heard of the ex- 
 tent to which blackmail has sometimes been carried. 
 When he tried to think, however, of the best way to 
 gain this knowledge, he was compelled to admit that 
 his task was a difficult one. 
 
 He had expressly said to Mr. Yates, when in Lon- 
 don, that he wanted no conversation with him in ref- 
 erence to that terrible page in his wife's history ; 
 that he wished it closed forever, and forgotten. To 
 write for the information he desired, after this 
 avowal, was likely to be attended with a correspond- 
 ing reply, besides involving a sacrifice of personal
 
 134 LOVE GONE ASTKAY. 
 
 dignity from which he shrank. Besides, it would be 
 suicidal to put on paper the questions he wished an- 
 swered, which might fall by some mischance into 
 other hands than those for which they were intended, 
 and lead to infinite mischief. 
 
 When Colonel Newcombe came he might be asked, 
 but there was no certainty that he would be willing 
 to answer. At best the inquiry would arouse the 
 most painful feelings in the breast of that old man, 
 already broken in spirit and struggling to outlive 
 the crushing blow he had received. 
 
 Nothing else was left but to appeal to Gladys 
 directly, and of all the means proposed this seemed 
 the most contemptible and cruel. 
 
 So the months passed, and the spectre that had 
 been raised grew less and less impressive in his bear- 
 ing. Colonel Newcombe and his wife were now at 
 Cannes. Mrs. Newcombe had been made aware of 
 her daughter's condition, and it was quite pathetic 
 to note the joy with which she received the informa- 
 tion. She congratulated Gladys upon the coming 
 event, and dilated at great length upon the circum- 
 stances connected with the unique occasion when she 
 herself had passed through a similar experience. 
 She reproached her husband because he did not ex- 
 hibit as much delight as she thought he ought, and 
 beamed rapturously on Gilbert as she revealed to 
 him the fact that she was possessed of the great 
 secret. 
 
 " Nothing so unites a married pair as the presence 
 of a child," she insisted. " Gladys is still very 
 young, but she is in good health and nothing is to be 
 apprehended. You must be a very happy man, Mr,
 
 LIFE ON THE EIVIEEA. 135 
 
 Gray. I am sure it is no sin to say you ought to be 
 envied." 
 
 The expected event was a sufficient excuse to 
 Gladys to decline the invitations to various society 
 functions gotten up by the English, American and 
 other residents, that poured in later in the season. 
 It did not, however, prevent every woman she knew 
 from calling upon her, more frequently than they 
 would otherwise have done, and bringing, with suit- 
 able and often very lame apologies, all the friendc of 
 the same sex they chose. 
 
 Each of these women who had the pleasure of 
 being presented to Mr. Gray pronounced him "too 
 sweet to live," and went away convinced that a hap- 
 pier man did not exist on the continent. He was 
 just dignified enough, they all declared, and so de- 
 lightfully reserved in the presence of his wife and 
 her friends. They were willing to forgive him for 
 having a fortune smaller than that of his bride, which 
 rumor had taken pains to announce, though the full 
 extent of his poverty was never known. For a man 
 like that, several of the wealthiest heiresses boldly 
 averred, they would resign their single blessedness 
 without hesitation. 
 
 In short, removed almost wholly from society, for 
 the reasons stated, Mr. and Mrs. Gray were among 
 the best liked residents of the Riviera, during the 
 winter they remained there, and received countless 
 smiles when they took their daily drive along the 
 fashionable promenade. 
 
 To Gilbert's suggestions, made on various occa- 
 sions to Colonel Newcombe, that he wanted some- 
 thing for his idle hands to do, the reply was always
 
 136 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 the same he must wait till another summer. At 
 present he must not leave his wife. When the the 
 right time came, they would all set sail for the 
 United States, and if the young man wished to put 
 his brain to work an opportunity would be furnished 
 him in the exciting grain market of Chicago. The 
 Colonel was in constant communication with London, 
 by wire, and was arranging to take part, so Gilbert 
 understood, in various deals that were under way. 
 So long as his daughter was in her present state he 
 would not leave Europe, although he had previously 
 expected to take a run over to America for a couple 
 of months. 
 
 In spite of the terrible suffering he had undergone, 
 the father was still passionately devoted to Gladys, 
 perhaps even more so than before. She was his only 
 child. Beside her lie had nothing but the delicate 
 wife, who was fading slowly away before his eyes. 
 He had consented to the scheme of hiding Gladys' 
 fault by this marriage, and there was no business 
 that could weigh in his mind with the importance of 
 making that marriage a success. 
 
 The conduct of the young couple was so circum- 
 spect when others were present that even the father 
 had no suspicion of the manner in which they avoided 
 each other in private. He supposed that the youth 
 of one and the beauty of the other had met their 
 natural affinity, in spite of the disagreeable past. 
 They strolled together up and down the verandas 
 of the hotel and in the paths adjacent ; they talked 
 as freely at table as the circumstances would lead 
 one to expect. They were a great deal alone in the 
 special suite they occupied. How was the father to
 
 LIFE ON THE RIVIERA. 137 
 
 know that Gilbert buried himself in his books and 
 Gladys in her fancy work, without a single word 
 passing between them for hours. 
 
 Like others who met them, Colonel Newcombe 
 grew more and more impressed with his son-in-law 
 He would not have believed, until he had seen it, 
 that such a thorough gentleman would accept that 
 questionable place and fill it in such a perfect man- 
 ner. 
 
 Gladys had never returned to the full gayety of 
 her girlhood days, and her father had no reason to 
 expect that she would. It must be a long time be- 
 fore she could outlive the memory of what she had 
 passed through. Besides she was now a wife, and 
 would soon be a mother. The change in her man- 
 ner was not more than he felt the facts should lead 
 him to anticipate. 
 
 The life of the Grays was singularly regular. One 
 day was very nearly like another. Gilbert rose earli- 
 est and generally took a short walk before breakfast. 
 
 On returning he found Gladys in their mutual 
 sitting-room, and ordered the coffee and rolls to be 
 sent up. Across the table a few words were ex- 
 changed, referring to the weather, to something in 
 the newspaper, or to slight matters connected with 
 the life at Cannes. After the first week they were 
 surprisingly at their ease during these repasts. 
 
 While no demonstration of affection was thought 
 of by either, there was nothing like coldness. Friends 
 who did not mean to get too intimate, this they were 
 and no more. They kept out of each other's way, 
 and yet took good care that they should not seem to 
 do so. During the morning they met Mrs. New-
 
 138 LOVE GONE ASTBAY. 
 
 combe and the Colonel, for an hour or so, oftenest in 
 the rooms occupied by the latter, on account of the 
 invalid character of the mother. Here Gladys and 
 Mrs. Newcombe talked about the thousand little 
 things that interest women, while her father and Gil- 
 bert discussed such events as concern the business 
 and political world. 
 
 The noon repast, as well as the dinner, was usually 
 taken in common, also in the Colonel's apartments, on 
 account of the state of his wife's health. In the after- 
 noon the men went, frequently together, to the 
 Casino, sometimes for a walk in the town. At five 
 o'clock Gilbert took his wife regularly to drive, occa- 
 sionally with her parents as companions, but usually 
 alone. At a seasonable hour the Grays separated for 
 the night, without effusion, with a simple word indi- 
 cating that one or the other was about to retire. 
 The suite they occupied had but one entrance, and 
 not even the servants suspected how thoroughly their 
 lives were lived apart. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE FAMILY SECRET. 
 
 THE only break in the regularity of the winter 
 came with a visit of Mr. Yates, who took a brief vaca- 
 tion from the arduous duties of his profession, and 
 made it the occasion for transacting a little business 
 with Colonel Newcombe, as well as renewing his
 
 THE FAMILY SECRET. 139 
 
 acquaintance with Mr. Gray. The solicitor was 
 entirely unannounced, as far as Gilbert knew, though 
 it appeared afterwards that the Colonel had been 
 expecting him for some time. His presence did not 
 bring much pleasure to the younger man, who, how- 
 ever, endeavored to treat him with due politeness, 
 and succeeded fairly well. It was distressing to sit 
 at dinner, as he was several times compelled to do, 
 with an outsider who could probe the depth of his 
 degradation and accuse him in his thoughts of what 
 he would not for untold wealth have had revealed. 
 Colonel Newcombe seemed to have something of the 
 kind in his own mind, also, and acted in a constrained 
 manner during the repast. 
 
 It seemed to be the unintentional mission of Mr. 
 Yates to remind them both, as well as the young lady 
 herself, that he had invented and carried out the 
 plan under which everything was working so har- 
 moniously, and that they ought to be thankful to 
 him for it. Naturally they did not like this, and the 
 time when the solicitor must return to London was 
 looked forward to without regret by both. 
 
 On the last day that Yates dined with them, Mrs. 
 Gray was indisposed, and he expressed his regret in 
 such warm terms that her husband felt a kind of per- 
 sonal affront. The remarks were met in perfect si- 
 lence by the gentlemen, and it was left to Mrs. New 
 combe to reply, in her innocent, courteous manner. 
 
 " I am going to-morrow morning, on an early 
 train," said Mr. Yates to Gray, when he happened to 
 meet him alone, later in the evening. "I have busi- 
 ness at Avignon, and shall not see you again. So 
 good-bye."
 
 140 LOVE GONE ASTEAT. 
 
 He put out his hand, and as he knew no reason 
 under the skies why he should not accept it, Mr. 
 Gray did so, coolly and silently. 
 
 The solicitor seemed surprised at such a leave-tak- 
 ing, and lingered, instead of ascending the stairs to 
 his room, as he had made a movement to do. 
 
 " You're all very comfortable, I see," he remarked, 
 with a motion of his head toward the other side of 
 the hotel. " Everything as cosy as a cat in a rug, 
 eli ? Never been sorry, have you ? Well, I told you 
 you wouldn't. You ought to feel nicely toward me, 
 for putting you into such a pleasant position." 
 
 These expressions grated fearfully on the sensi- 
 bilities of the man to whom they were addressed, 
 and he grew white about the lips. 
 
 " You seem to have forgotten what I once said to 
 you," he answered. " There are things about which 
 I never talk, and of which I try not even to think ! 
 Your part in them was ended long ago. I ask you 
 once more never to allude to them in my presence." 
 
 Mr. Yates shrugged his shoulders, and drummed 
 aggravatingly on the railing of the stairs by which 
 he stood. 
 
 "There must be things you would like to know," 
 he answered, with a spice of revenge in his tone. 
 " There are questions which must enter your head 
 that no one else you would wish to inquire of could 
 answer." 
 
 It was the Spectre again ! The familiar ghost of 
 the only doubt that troubled the husband's mind. 
 In the presence of this Horror he was silent. 
 
 "You have taken a dislike to me for some reason, 
 I can't guess what," said Mr. Yates. "The only
 
 TEE FAMILY SECBET. 141 
 
 explanation is the tendency of the human mind to 
 hate those who show us the greatest kindness. You 
 remember I alluded to that when your friend Neil- 
 ing he called himself Neiling, I believe abused 
 you after you had saved him from beggary. By-the- 
 way, I saw him in London a few weeks ago, and he 
 is thinking of coming this way soon.'\ 
 
 Mr. Gray clenched his hands and bit his nether 
 lip. This man was getting a sweet revenge for the 
 sharp words addressed to him once. 
 
 " You misapprehend, you misconstrue what I said," 
 replied Gray, stumbling in his words. " It is not a 
 hatred 1 for any special person, but an absolute neces- 
 sity that dictates my course. I have done all I 
 agreed to do. If permanent good is to follow, every- 
 thing that has passed must be buried a thousand 
 fathoms beneath the surface, never to be resurrected. 
 Your allusions to them sting me like fire." 
 
 The solicitor played with the seals of his watch- 
 chain, and regarded the other with a furtive expres- 
 sion. 
 
 ' And before the door of that Past is closed," he 
 asked, " is there nothing are you sure there is noth- 
 ing upon which you have a curiosity to gaze ?" 
 
 It was a trying moment. The young husband was 
 torn between anxiety to know the father of his wife's 
 unborn child, and his intense dislike to accept a 
 favor from this man. He vacillated for several 
 seconds, showing in every lineament the torture he 
 was feeling. 
 
 "Tell me only this," he said, at last. "Is there 
 any likelihood that the person about whom I might 
 inquire will ever attempt to trouble me or her ?"
 
 142 LOVE GONE ASTBAY. 
 
 Mr. Yates smiled at the inquiry. 
 
 " Only the gods can foresee the future, " he said. 
 " Let us certainly hope not. If he ever does, however, 
 call on me to deal with him. Perhaps you would 
 rather suffer his annoyances, though," he added, in a 
 faint vein of irony. 
 
 The alternative was getting too strong for Mr. 
 Gray. 
 
 "I think we will call the Door closed," he said, 
 gravely, and with a firmer tone. " I have taken cer- 
 tain risks, and while I hope for the best I will not 
 shrink from my fate. If I need you," he added, as a 
 sort of sop at the end, " I can write." 
 
 The solicitor shook his head slowly, but Mr. Gray 
 said good-bye to him and walked toward his own 
 apartments. His wife had not arisen from the bed 
 to which she had gone early in the afternoon, under 
 the plea of a severe headache, and he paused at her 
 door before going to his bedroom to ask in a low 
 voice if there was anything he could do for her. 
 
 " Open the door a little," was the strange reply 
 that greeted his ears. 
 
 He opened it, two or three inches, with a guilty 
 feeling, as if it were the room of some woman toward 
 whom he meditated a wrong. 
 
 " What time is it ?" asked Gladys. 
 
 " Ten o'clock." 
 
 " Where have you been ?" 
 
 She had never shown the least inquisitiveness be- 
 fore as to his movements, or the hours he kept, and 
 he had stayed out much later. 
 
 "Only into the reading room. And just now I
 
 THE FAMILY 8ECBET. 143 
 
 have been talking a little with Mr. Yates, who is 
 going in the morning." 
 
 " Open the door further so I can see you," said 
 Gladys. 
 
 Conquering an inclination to fly the place, and still 
 with a feeling resembling an amateur burglar's on 
 his first housebreaking expedition, Gilbert Gray 
 slowly pushed back the door. He saw his wife lying 
 in her bed, her head enveloped in a white bandage, 
 and sunken in the depths of the pillows. One of her 
 arms, encased in a night dress, or what he took to be 
 one, lay outside the white coverlet. 
 
 " Come in," she said, softly. 
 
 " I I am going to bed," he answered, looking 
 about the room from sheer curiosity. He saw the 
 clothes she had worn, heaped in pretty disarrange- 
 ment on the sofa and the chairs. A pair of white slip- 
 pers lay by the side of the couch. The dainty things 
 that women love to surround themselves with were 
 to be discerned on every hand. 
 
 " I hope your headache is better," he added, after 
 a moment. 
 
 " It is much better. Gilbert," he started at the 
 word, uttered by that woman in dishabille, " are you 
 angry with me for anything ?" 
 
 " By no means," he replied. " Why should I be an- 
 gry with you ?" 
 
 She put the hand that lay outside the cover to her 
 lips and bit nervously at her nails. 
 
 " Nothing," she said, gulping down a sob. " Noth- 
 ing particular, only you look troubled. I'm sure 
 (sob) I mean to be very good to you, and some time 
 (another sob) I mean to be much better than I have
 
 144 LOVE GONE ASTKAY. 
 
 ever been. Just now, you know, I am not well (sob); 
 and and you'll forgive me if I act a little (sob) dis- 
 tant, won't you ?" 
 
 He could not help feeling that the accusations she 
 heaped upon herself were more applicable to him, 
 but he wished of all things to avoid a debate. He 
 answered hurriedly that she was nervous, and that 
 she had best let him ring for her maid, who had a 
 room in another part of the hotel. She replied that 
 she did not want any one, and that she was recover- 
 ing as ';:? idly as could be expected, and would be 
 quite well the next morning. At which he congrat- 
 ulated her, and disappeared before she could find an 
 excuse to prolong the conversation. 
 
 Within a day or two he began talking of leaving 
 Cannes and going to Vienna. As he had no partic- 
 ular reason to give, Gladys demurred at first, for she 
 did not wish to be separated any sooner than was 
 necessary from her mother, and feared Mrs. New- 
 combe would be disinclined to travel. But when 
 Gilbert recurred to the subject the second time she 
 made no more objection. Luckily Mrs. Newcombe 
 had also grown tired of Cannes, and was much pleased 
 at the prospect of a change. Early in April, there- 
 fore, the Newcombes and the Grays were comfort- 
 ably domiciled at one of the best Viennese hotels, 
 and Gilbert breathed easier. 
 
 If William Neiling was coming to the Riviera it 
 would be a blessing not to meet him ; and Vienna was 
 not a place at which Mr. Vates, solicitor, of London, 
 was likely to be called by any of the exigencies of 
 his profession.
 
 AERIVAL OF THE BABY. 145 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 ARRIVAL OF THE BABY. 
 
 As the time grew nearer when Mrs. Gray was to 
 become a mother her husband found his position 
 growing more and more peculiar. Mrs. Newcombe 
 never tired of talking to him of the impending event, 
 endeavoring to impress upon him the immense grati- 
 tude due from a man to a woman who tenders him 
 such "proofs of her affection." The gentle hints as 
 to the duties of a coming father nearly drove him 
 wild. He could only respond as politely as possible, 
 and make his escape at the earliest opportunity. As 
 for the Colonel, he behaved extremely well. Though 
 full of anxiety he forebore to question or to advise. 
 He showed his regard for Gilbert in a thousand 
 agreeable ways, and strengthened the resolutions of 
 his son-in-law to fulfill the obligation he had assumed 
 at whatever sacrifice. 
 
 A month in Vienna was followed by a fortnight in 
 Dresden, and then a proposition to go to Sweden 
 for the accouchement was carried out. Two of the 
 ablest physicians in Stockholm, with a retinue of 
 nurses, were engaged by Mr. Gray, after a consulta- 
 tion with Gladys, and the date of the expected event 
 communicated to them as nearly as might be. The 
 husband was kindness itself, and the on5y times when 
 he had to speak with an air of authority was when 
 Gladys tried to thank or to compliment him. There
 
 146 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 must be nothing of that sort, he said ; nothing what- 
 ever ( 
 
 When they finally brought him a tiny morsel of 
 humanity, swathed in flannels, Gilbert Gray's feel- 
 ings were so intense that he had no need to simulate 
 agitation. It was the first time he had ever been 
 brought into contact with that great miracle, com- 
 pared to which the changing of water to wine, and 
 even the raising of the dead, sink into insignificance. 
 He knew that the breath of God had been blown 
 into these tender nostrils, unmindful of the fact that 
 man's sin aided in working the wonder. They told 
 him that the mother was " doing well," and that he 
 could see her in a few hours ; but he kept out of the 
 sick room till the third day, a proceeding which won 
 him golden opinions from the blonde-haired nurses, 
 who thought him a model of consideration. 
 
 When he did go in, and was left alone a few min- 
 utes with his wife, he could not speak. He was 
 frightened to see her so pale, and there was some- 
 thing in the atmosphere of the room that stifled 
 him. 
 
 Gladys, much the calmer of the twain at first, sur- 
 veyed his face with deep interest. Like all young 
 mothers, she felt herself a superior creature for what 
 she had passed through ; and yet so much depended 
 on the attitude of this man's mind ! 
 
 "You do not say anything!" she remarked, wist- 
 fully. 
 
 " What can I say ?" he answered. 
 
 "You surely are glad I am doing nicely." 
 
 " Oh, yes !" 
 
 She closed her eyes with a gesture of despair.
 
 ARRIVAL OF THE BABY. 147 
 
 u Ah !" she cried. " You are going to hate me for- 
 ever !" 
 
 " No, no ! I am only stunned a little, overwhelmed. 
 I do not hate you, Gladys, and I never have." 
 
 She caught one of his hand and, in spite of him, 
 covered it with kisses. 
 
 "And my little girl you do not hate her, either?" 
 
 "I love your little girl already," he said, gravely. 
 
 A delighted expression came over her countenance. 
 
 "Then perhaps the time will come when you 
 will even learn to like me." 
 
 He took the hand from her gently, though she 
 struggled to retain it, and told her she ought not to 
 say such things that she knew she ought not. He 
 liked her very much. Nothing she had done since 
 her marriage had lessened the regard he had for 
 her. She must not continue to fill her head with 
 wild imaginations. 
 
 " But that baby girl of mine that child that is 
 not yours she will always stand between us," she 
 answered, with a groan. 
 
 " Hush !" he replied, glancing fearfully around 
 the room. " You shall not rave in this manner. 
 That child is mine! Do you understand? I am its 
 father as surely as you are its mother. Let any one 
 say otherwise who dares !" 
 
 She tried to take his hand again, and would, had 
 she possessed the strength, have crawled to his feet. 
 
 "There never was another man like you," she 
 murmured, " never one so noble, so pure, so true ! I 
 have not been worthy of you, but I will make myself 
 so. If you can forget, if you " 
 
 But he stopped her with a gleam in his eyes that she
 
 14:8 LOVE GONE ASTBA.Y. 
 
 did not likcto see, saying that she periled everything 
 by those wild words, and that he would listen to no 
 more of them. The interview had lasted as long as 
 was consistent with the physician's advice. He was 
 now going. If he heard that she talked nonsense to 
 the attendants he would ascribe it to a wandering 
 brain, the result of her illness. And he vanished 
 from the room without permitting her to reply. 
 
 Mrs. Newcombe had been fostering an idea which 
 was submitted to him on the following day. It was 
 that he should get a number of tiny cards, to be 
 placed in envelopes of the corresponding size, stating 
 the fact of the birth of a daughter to Mr. and Mrs. 
 Gilbert Gray, these cards to be mailed to several 
 hundred of his and Gladys* friends on both contin- 
 ents. It was a custom she had found to prevail in 
 some parts of Italy and she thought it very charm- 
 ing. 
 
 Gilbert gave his consent to the plan immediately, 
 and the cards were duly mailed, he personally writ- 
 ing most of the addresses. He had begun to be rav- 
 enously anxious to establish his proprietorship in that 
 pretty child, whose father he must appear. The con- 
 gratulations that came back were nearly as numerous 
 as the cards. Gladys was able to listen to most of 
 them, in the presence of her mother and husband, to 
 the infinite pleasure of the elder lady, who plumed 
 herself immensely on having originated the notion of 
 communicating the great event to her circle of friends 
 in this manner. 
 
 "Mrs. Gray was able to do one thing on these oc- 
 easions that gave her much satisfaction. As it was 
 necessary to simulate a closeness of connection be-
 
 ARRIVAL OF THE BABY. 
 
 tween herself and Gilbert in the presence of Mrs. 
 Newcombe, she could take one of his hands and fon- 
 dle it without danger that he would force it away 
 from her. And when he left the room there was no 
 escape from lightly touching his wife's forehead with 
 his lips, an act that gave her the most exquisite bliss. 
 It mattered not that she knew these things were 
 actuated solely by the need of impressing her mother. 
 Gladys received them eagerly, as a symbol of what 
 she hoped might follow in due time, when she was 
 restored to health and strength and the further lapse 
 of weeks and days had done their work. 
 
 For the young wife, who had been growing fonder 
 and fonder of her husband, had fallen violently in 
 love with him while she lay on this bed of illness. 
 She pictured to herself a wonderful hour when this 
 paragon of men should feel a responsive sentiment in 
 his own bosom. Time, time, would bring it about ! 
 He loved the baby, why should he not, at some dis- 
 tant day, love her also ? She would wait for it to 
 come, patiently. And when it arrived, the black 
 shadow that had settled over her youth would fly 
 away before the glorious morning of that new 
 elysium ! 
 
 This hop" >-iat gave her something to live for, as 
 well as the happiness that she felt in the ownership 
 of her child the delight with which Heaven com- 
 pensates women for the pain they undergo began 
 to make Gladys a new creature. Her father's brow 
 lightened as he saw his beloved one so much like 
 what she used to be in the old days. She was no less 
 beautiful in her young motherhood than in her art- 
 less innocence as a school girl. The plan he had con-
 
 150 LOVE GONE A8TRAT. 
 
 sented with so much trepidation to try, had worked 
 wonders. 
 
 He began to talk of the entire party going to 
 America in the autumn, and there was no objection 
 on any side. Gilbert wanted to go, because he had 
 tired of dependence and idleness ; Gladys wanted to 
 go because her husband did. Mrs. Newcombe, who 
 faded perceptibly, said she would like to see her 
 Western home, and the Colonel had a dozen irons 
 in the fire that needed his attention there. 
 
 As it was thought best for Mrs. Newcombe, as well 
 as for the baby, to travel by easy stages, the party 
 went to Amsterdam for a week or two, in Septem- 
 ber, on their way to England. It would be pleasant, 
 Mrs. Newcombe said, for the Grays to revisit the 
 city where they had been 1 made one naughty, sly 
 young people that they were ! Gladys flushed 
 crimson, for she had associations with Amsterdam 
 that were less agreeable to remember, and Gilbert 
 bit his lips, but the failing eyes of the elder lady 
 noted nothing of this. She continued to chaff them 
 in her indulgent, motherly way, until she .was tired. 
 
 If there had been any valid excuse for avoiding 
 Amsterdam, Gilbert would have availed himself of 
 it, but as there was none he consented to the plan. 
 But something occurred during his stay in the Dutch 
 capital that made him wish he had gone to England 
 by the way of the Cape of Good Hope rather than 
 through Holland. In one of his rides with Gladys 
 through the city, he saw the disagreeable face of 
 William Neiling staring at them from the sidewalk. 
 
 Of course he pretended not to see Neiling ; and of 
 course he knew very well that Neiling knew he did
 
 ARRIVAL OF THE BABY. 151 
 
 see him, and purposely avoided him. From the one 
 glance he had taken it struck Gray that his old 
 acquaintance was not in the best of luck. He had 
 that indefinable air of tightness in the purse that 
 develops itself so rapidly on some persons. The 
 spick and span look so becoming to the rider at 
 Hyde Park was conspicuously absent. He had even 
 less of prosperity in his appearance than when found 
 asleep at the foot of St. Mark's column in Venice. 
 Gilbert reflected that the contrast between him and 
 the well-dressed gentleman in the carriage must be 
 extremely galling, and he hoped their meeting would 
 not occur again. 
 
 In this desire, however, Gray was bound to be dis- 
 appointed. The face of Neiling haunted him wher- 
 ever he went. He could not walk or drive without 
 seeing that unwelcome countenance. Hardly could 
 he glance across the street from the window of his 
 room without beholding the figure he detested, on 
 the opposite side. Once when he happened to be 
 gazing from his closed shutters his wife came up be- 
 hind him. As her eyes followed his, she uttered a 
 little scream, and her husband, who turned suddenly 
 upon her, saw that she was pale. 
 
 " What is the matter ?" he asked, assisting her to a 
 chair. " What has happened ? It is that man across 
 the street !" he added, his face clouding. " You have 
 seen him before ?" 
 
 She nodded a great many times before she could 
 command her tongue. It would not do to trifle with 
 Gilbert in his present mood. 
 
 " I saw him in London," she stammered. " The
 
 152 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 week before / met you. He was one of those you 
 understand one of his of Mr. Yates' people." 
 
 " But why does the sight of him frighten you ?" he 
 demanded. " Yates never showed you to him, of 
 course !" 
 
 " No," she said, catching her breath. " But he re- 
 calls that awful time that time I try to forget. 
 And I thought by the attitude you assumed you 
 must know." 
 
 It was plain enough, and the young man regretted 
 his harsh manner. With a few direct words he re- 
 lated the particulars of his meetings with Neiling, 
 and his reasons for disliking him. He also sug- 
 gested that the presence of the fellow made a very 
 good excuse for cutting their stay in Amsterdam 
 short, and going to England on the following day ; 
 to all of which Gladys agreed, striving to calm her- 
 self as best she might. 
 
 It was the first time Gilbert had actually spoken 
 in angry tones to her. But, on the other hand, it 
 was something to think he had been jealous, if only 
 for a moment, for jealousy argues affection. If he 
 entertained the green-eyed monster on her account, 
 he must care more for her than he was willing to 
 admit. This was why Gladys went to her own room 
 as quickly as she might, and cried and laughed there 
 all by herself for the next two hours. 
 
 Mr. Gray was not to leave the city, however, with- 
 out another disagreeable experience. After dinner 
 that evening, the following letter was put into his 
 hand : 
 
 14 MY DEAR GRAY: You may think it little short of im- 
 pertinence for me to apply to you for another loan, remem-
 
 ABEIVAL OF THE BABY. 153 
 
 bering that the first is still unpaid ; but the fact is 1 am 
 absolutely broke, and know no one so able as you to help 
 me out of the mire. 
 
 "In this city of Amsterdam, where I understand you had 
 the supreme felicity of marrying the charming lady with 
 whom I have seen you driving, you should be able to forget 
 small hatreds and act a noble, generous part to a fellow 
 mortal in distress. 
 
 " I only want five hundred guilders and I could possibly 
 get along with four hundred. If you will send the amount 
 by bearer it will be a great accommodation. If not I will 
 see you at the railway when you depart having no busi- 
 ness to fetter my hands and you can give it to me there. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 "W. N." 
 
 " N. B. That affair with the horse in Hyde Park was 
 pure accident. He was an unmanageable beast, and I sold 
 him the next day." 
 
 If this letter had been a blackmailing one, pure 
 and simple, Gilbert Gray would have thrown it in 
 the waste paper basket and bade defiance to its au- 
 thor. There was just enough doubt on that point to 
 make him give it a second, and then a third reading. 
 Perhaps Neiling questioned that the marriage in 
 Amsterdam was a genuine one, but there was noth- 
 ing in his note that indicated this. The city had 
 been mentioned in all the published notices of the 
 wedding. The offer to come to the station in case it 
 was more convenient to give him the money there 
 had a sinister look, but it was too carefully veiled to 
 be called a threat. 
 
 Supposing the money was refused, and Neiling 
 Came to the station, what could he do there ? He
 
 154 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 could only ask for it again. Whatever he suspected, 
 he could give no new information to Mrs. Gray or 
 to Colonel Newcombe. Yet there was Mrs. New- 
 combe a disagreeable word might reach her ears 
 and cause her annoyance. It was best to send the 
 money, and settle the fellow. In a few weeks they 
 would all be in the United States, and beyond his 
 power to bother them. 
 
 Four hundred guilders Gilbert thought it better 
 to send the smaller sum was therefore enclosed in 
 an envelope and handed to the messenger. And the 
 sender congratulated himself that he had disposed of 
 the matter so cheaply. 
 
 The arrival in England was made without special 
 event, and the hotel servants welcomed effusively 
 the mother and child who had come in place of the 
 young girl they had parted with less than a year 
 ago. Everything seemed going finely when Mrs. 
 Newcombe developed an alarming phase of her ill- 
 ness that compelled all thoughts of taking her on a 
 journey to be abandoned. 
 
 Nothing could well have happened worse. Col- 
 onel Newcombe passed his hours between the bed- 
 side of his wife and his desk, where telegrams were 
 sent and received without number. Although his 
 family was still first in his thoughts, he had felt so 
 sure of the date at which he would arrive in Chicago 
 that he had launched into some business deals of 
 magnitude that required his presence on the ground. 
 As time passed, he confided the entire details of his 
 sales and purchases to Gray, saying that if Mrs. 
 Newcombe got no better it might be necessary for 
 the young man to start for America without him, and
 
 ARRIVAL OF THE BABY. 155 
 
 attend to some of the more pressing matters in his 
 stead. Gilbert showed the greatest adaptability, and 
 surprised the Colonel by the readiness with which 
 he comprehended what was told him. 
 
 Mr. Yates called frequently, but beyond exchang- 
 ing the compliments of the season had no conversa- 
 tion with Gray. The liking between them had not 
 increased, but they seemed to find it best to let each 
 other completely alone, since there was no cause for 
 quarrel. 
 
 "At last an exigency came, late in November, 
 when it was decided that Gray must depart for 
 America. The very earliest boat in which a berth 
 could be had was selected, giving him but a few 
 hours to prepare for the trip. He was intrusted with 
 the most important orders, on which hundreds of 
 thousands of dollars depended. For once in his life 
 he had been thought worthy of something above a 
 clerkship. He went to his apartments and commun- 
 icated the information to his wife, remarking that 
 she would next see him, probably, on the other side 
 of the ocean. 
 
 To his intense surprise, Gladys rose from her chair, 
 pressed her hand to her side, tottered toward him, 
 and fell in a swoon on the carpet. 
 
 He rang for her maid, who assisted him to lift 
 Mrs. Gray upon the bed in her room, and for the 
 next quarter hour they busied themselves to restore 
 her. It must have been the suddenness of the an- 
 nouncement, he thought ; and since the birth of her 
 baby she had been subject to palpitations. 
 
 That it was her grief at the idea of being separ- 
 ated from him never entered his mind.
 
 LOTE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 As soon as she had sufficiently recovered Gil- 
 bert left her and went to pack his trunks for the 
 voyage. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 "IT is MY HUSBAND'S ROOM." 
 
 WHEN Mr. Gray came home that evening, after 
 attending to various matters connected with his 
 impending journey, he went immediately to his own 
 chamber, and began to write some letters. In pass- 
 ing through the little salon which formed the neutral 
 ground of the apartment, he noticed that his wife 
 was not there, and he had no doubt she had retired 
 for the night on account of the indisposition mani- 
 fested earlier in the day. 
 
 His mind was so filled with the importance of the 
 errand on which he was about to embark that it had 
 no room in it for anything else. The affairs of 
 Colonel Newcombe on the Board in Chicago were in 
 a perilous state. With immense interests that re- 
 quired a careful hand on the spot, the Colonel was 
 held in London by the condition of his wife, and the 
 telegraph proved a poor substitute for his personal 
 presence. His son-in-law had been given a power of 
 attorney to act in all respects as his agent, and the 
 speed of the fastest ocean vessel was like the pace of 
 a snail to both of them. 
 
 Until Gilbert should arrive in Chicago the Colonel
 
 *rr is MY HUSBAND'S BOOM.** 157 
 
 must continue to direct his campaign by wire, and 
 while nearly every moment was passed at his wife's 
 bedside even his naps being taken in her room the 
 strain was sure to be tremendous on his already 
 sapped vitality. 
 
 After his letters were written, and a few other 
 things attended to, the young man sat silent for a 
 long time, reviewing the past and speculating upon 
 the future. If he proved his ability in this business 
 the days of idleness would come to an end, and the 
 active life for which his spirit craved would take its 
 place. He had eaten the bread of mendicancy till 
 his soul revolted against it. To be of use to the man 
 who had treated him so nobly, to feel the pleasure of 
 handling money he had actually earned that would 
 be glorious indeed ! The emergency that called for 
 his efforts was a painful one, but it meant freedom, 
 the ability to walk erect, the right to look men in the 
 face all this, if he succeeded. 
 
 And he would succeed ! If there was such a thing 
 possible he would demonstrate his value to those who 
 trusted him. 
 
 The door between his chamber and the private 
 salon was not entirely closed, and Gray became 
 aware after awhile that some one was moving about 
 in the latter room. A long mirror on the opposite 
 side reflected the forrr- of the person, and he soon 
 saw that it was a woman, clad only in the loose robes 
 of night, walking up and down like one who finds no 
 rest. 
 
 The reflection flashed upon him for a moment and 
 then was lost again, over and over, as the walker 
 passed in front of the glass. He knew it must be
 
 158 LOVE GONfe ASTRAY. 
 
 Gladys, though she looked so strange in that costume 
 that he hardly recognized her. And as he gazed, 
 trying to catch a sufficient glimpse of her face to 
 guess the meaning of this tireless walk, she stopped 
 directly in front of the mirror and inspected herself 
 in it. 
 
 She had been weeping, and, indeed, was weeping 
 yet, for the large drops flowed one by one down her 
 pale cheeks, touched her round shoulders and disap- 
 peared beneath the snowy vesture of her garments. 
 The attitude which she assumed was sorrowful in 
 the extreme. Her long hair, quite unbound, hung 
 far below her waist. Her arms, feet and ankles were 
 bare, and the transparent silk of her nightdress re- 
 vealed completely the outlines of her handsome figure 
 as she stood between the light and the reflector. 
 She was beautiful beyond compare, and sad enough 
 to stir the sympathy of a stone. 
 
 Gilbert Gray had never seen his wife in dishabille 
 before, unless we except that evening when she lay 
 in her bed, covered with blankets. The sight of 
 that half-draped loveliness made him tremble. He 
 did not want to look, and he had no power to turn 
 away his eyes. What limbs she had ! What magni- 
 ficence of bust, what perfection of contour ! 
 
 As he watched, she stretched her arms above her 
 head, shivering as if a wave from the icy North had 
 blown upon her soft, pink flesh. 
 
 And the tears fell still, one after the other, as from 
 a statue of Despair. 
 
 If there was any way he could .comfort her, it was 
 clearly his duty to do it, though he saw nothing dis- 
 tinctly in regard to the matter. He knew no reason
 
 " IT is MY HUSBAND'S BOOM." 159 
 
 why she should have these terrible moments of 
 misery. Was it the never-to-be-stilled Conscience, 
 that roused the memories of the past ? Was it sor- 
 row for the mother whose days were now numbered ? 
 Was it regret for the pain she had given her father, 
 who was bowed under a weight he could scare bear ? 
 Whatever the reason, she must not be allowed to 
 suffer without an attempt on his part to aid her. 
 
 " Gladys !" he called, softly. " Gladys !" 
 
 The form in front of the mirror shrank together in 
 a listening attitude. 
 
 " Did you call ?" it asked breathlessly. 
 
 " Yes. What are you doing up at this time of 
 night ? Have you your gown on ? If not, dress and 
 come here where I can talk to you ?" 
 
 Instantly the round limbs strode across the carpet, 
 and the door of Mr. Gray's bedroom was flung vio- 
 lently open. The pink statue in its robe of transpa< * 
 ent silk stepped over his threshold. 
 
 " Have I my gown on !" cried Gladys to the as- 
 tounded man. " Why should I have it on, in your 
 presence ? I am your wife ! It is more than eight 
 months since I began living with you. How long 
 am I expected to appear before you in hat and cloak, 
 with boots buttoned and collar pinned ? I have a 
 right to come into this room in any garb I please, of 
 all rooms in the world ! What is the matter with 
 me ? Am I not fair enough ? Is my flesh too brown, 
 my arms too slender ? Am I old, emaciated, mal- 
 formed, ugly ? You never knew till this moment 
 what I was like ! It is time you saw me as I am, 
 Gilbert Gray !" 
 
 Shocked beyoad measure, the husband drew him
 
 160 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 self away from her, protesting that she had forgotten 
 herself wholly and must come to her senses. 
 
 " I have not forgotten myself !" she answered, ve- 
 hemently, though her lip shook. "It is you who for- 
 get. You are sowing seed that may ripen into a har- 
 vest you may not wish to gather. Look at me. I 
 am not yet twenty, and all the warm blood of health 
 flows in my veins. I am already a mother to my 
 shame if you wish it so but a mother I am. Why 
 Was I led into that awful path ? Was it from love bf 
 my child's father ? I hated him at the moment I re- 
 ceived his caresses. What, then ? Why, the uncon- 
 trollable impulse to be kissed, to be fondled, to be 
 told that I was beautiful and sweet. Do not inter- 
 rupt me, I must have this out. It has burned in my 
 heart too long !" 
 
 He could not speak for astonishment, and she con- 
 tinued : 
 
 " For that sin I suffered. The torments of hell can- 
 not exceed those I passed through. And then I was 
 told that a man had been found so generous, so no- 
 ble, that he would forgive that error and take me for 
 his wife as if it had never occurred. I had seen his 
 face, and my heart, still virgin in its affections, went 
 out to him. I knew it would require time to make 
 him love me, and I wanted time as much as he. I 
 anticipated a struggle with him, perhaps the need of 
 prayers and exhortations that he would wait for 
 proofs of my love until the first fault had been in 
 some sense remedied. When he began to treat me 
 like a brother, I blessed him in my heart for what I 
 believed his magnanimous consideration, and I loved 
 him more and more. But months have passed, and
 
 "IT is MY HUSBAND'S KOOM.** 161 
 
 what I took to be magnanimity I find was only a 
 subtle cruelty, a refined torture to which he has com- 
 pelled me to submit, and which I begin to think he 
 means to carry out to the end. I warn you, Gilbert 
 Gray, you are on dangerous ground. I cannot be 
 driven too far !" 
 
 So rapidly were these sentences delivered, and with 
 such vehemence of utterance, that the husband hardly l 
 understood their full purport. The avalanche had 
 fallen upon him without warning. The most he 
 realized was that this woman, whom he had esteemed 
 for her modest bearing, had thrown decency to the 
 winds' and was delivering a tirade of abuse in a cos- 
 tume in which he had never imagined she would allow 
 herself seen. On the other hand it was plain that 
 Gladys would not have done these things unless 
 driven forward by some extraordinary emotion. He 
 had seen her silent weeping in the reflection of the 
 mirror, and was ready to make what allowances he 
 could. 
 
 " I am sorry for anything I have done to displease 
 you," he said, "and when we meet again I will talk 
 it over with you and see wherein we differ. To-night, 
 you must remember, is the last I spend near you for 
 cne present, and my head is too full of your father's 
 errands to think of anything else. So, if you will 
 calm yourself, and go to bed " 
 
 She interrupted him fiercely, 
 
 "Then you intend to drive me away f See, I am 
 on my knees, begging for your love !" She fell at 
 his feet as she spoke, to his consternation. *'I am 
 here, your wife, praying for the kisses, the caresses, 
 tfiat are mine by right. What ! do you repulse me,
 
 162 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 when I lower myself like this ? Will you not tak* 
 me in your arms for one moment, will you not press 
 your lips for the first time to mine ?" 
 
 She had thrown those bare arms around his neck 
 and was trying to drag his face down to hers, in the 
 fury of desperation. It was all he coul-d do to dis- 
 engage her clasp, and when he succeeded, and rose, 
 much disturbed, to his feet, she fell, a limp heap of 
 loveliness, across his hearthrug. 
 
 " Gladys, I am astonished at you !" was all he 
 could articulate. 
 
 But she did not answer, lying there in perfect 
 carelessness as to her appearance, and giving vent to 
 a flood of tears that he could for some time do noth- 
 ing to arrest. 
 
 " This has gone on long enough," he said, at last, 
 raising his voice. "If you do not cease I shall send 
 for your father." 
 
 She sat up on the rug, and brushed her long hair 
 back from her swollen eyes. 
 
 " Send for him," she said. " Send now. Let rue 
 tell him what kind of husband he gave me. Let me 
 tell him that in eight months you have never offered 
 me a caress except in the presence of my mother. 
 Ask him if he thinks a girl like me should be con- 
 tented with a man of ice and snow. He knows what 
 I am, to his sorrow. Ask him if he believes you the 
 man to trust my future with." 
 
 She was pretty ! Dimpled, rosy, round, sweet 
 and fair. Had she not been his wife he might have 
 been unable to resist her, but her conduct had out- 
 raged his feelings of propriety his sense of what 
 * Mrs. Gray " should be and he remained firm.
 
 "IT is MY HUSBAND'S BOOM." 163 
 
 "You put me in an awkward dilemma," he an- 
 swered. " If I send for your father I shall give pain 
 I would prefer to spare him. On the other hand, it 
 is very certain you cannot remain here all night." 
 
 "Why not?" she retorted, defiantly. "It is my 
 husband's room. I have been a true and faithful 
 wife in spite of his coldness and neglect. By what 
 law can he drive me forth ? Gilbert !" she cried, 
 changing her defiant tones to pleading ones again. 
 " Help me ! There is no one else that can do it. I 
 want love. I must have it or die." 
 
 He strove to think of something that would influ- 
 ence her, and at last the baby entered his mind. 
 
 " If you continue to excite yourself," he said, 
 "Marianne will suffer. She drains her life from 
 yours and you will make her ill." 
 
 Another gush of tears followed this thrust. 
 
 " Ah ! The poor darling I" said the mother. 
 " Supposing I should treat her as you treat me ! Sup- 
 posing, when she opens her lips for the bread of life, 
 I poured vinegar into her mouth ! And yet she is 
 not more dependent on me for her happiness than I 
 am on you." 
 
 He said a few words that he thought would influ- 
 ence her, but they were of no avail. 
 
 " If you will go to your room and get your sleep," 
 he added, desperately, " I will promise to see you 
 very early in the morning. My train departs before 
 noon." 
 
 She rocked herself to and fro on the carpet, clasp- 
 ing her knees with her arms as she swung. 
 
 " You have not said a word about my going," she
 
 164 LOVE GONE ASTKAY. 
 
 answered. " One would think you intended to leave 
 me in England." 
 
 " That is a very foolish remark," said he, im- 
 patiently. " There are a thousand reasons why you 
 cannot go. Your mother, as you must not forget, is 
 very ill. Your father cannot be left alone. Then, if 
 there were no other reason, there is not a vacant 
 berth on the steamer. I happened to find the only 
 one that had been given up, in a cabin with 
 three other men, that was engaged a month ago. It 
 will not be long before I return, or before you come 
 to me. To talk of going with me to-morrow is 
 merely madness." 
 
 She rose slowly, and stood, with the same careless- 
 ness of pose and .dress, leaning heavily against his 
 mantel. 
 
 " And to-night, when you have determined to cross 
 the ocean without your wife, when weeks, possibly 
 months, may elapse before you see her again, can 
 you treat me as icily as this ?" she said vehemently. 
 " Has it not occurred to you that the day before 
 such a parting should be devoted to fortifying a 
 woman's distracted mind, to strengthening her trem- 
 bling heart, to awakening every thread of her wifely 
 affection, thus making her intact against tempta- 
 tion, in whatever form it may come. There is not 
 another husband in this city of five million people 
 who has not instinct enough to do the things you 
 neglect. Not a waterman on the Thames, not a 
 costermonger in Lambeth but could teach you the 
 lesson you so much need to learn." 
 
 He began dimly to suspect what she meant him to 
 understand.
 
 " IT IS MY HUSBAND'S BOOM." 165 
 
 "You are a mistress of invective," said he, "and 
 into that field I do not propose to follow you. 
 As to the temptations at which you darkly hint, I do 
 not believe you care to risk wrecking your life 
 again. Let me tell you in all kindness, Gladys, that 
 you have adopted the worst possible method of win- 
 ning my esteem. But if you insist on having these 
 things discussed, listen to me a moment. Since I 
 have lived under the same roof with you I have 
 steadily learned to like you. That liking might in 
 time have developed into love and I do not say it 
 may not yet do so but such demonstrations as this 
 postpone that hour to a distant future. Love cannot 
 be taken by storm. You cannot walk into a man's 
 room in a state bordering on nudity and expect him 
 to see in you the woman he wants for the mother of 
 his children. What you have done to-night has 
 made the closer union between us a matter for a far- 
 off day. You asked me awhile ago if you were ugly, 
 old, or misshapen. With all my heart I tell you 
 that I never dreamed such beauty as yours dwelt 
 outside of marble. If I had taken no vows and such 
 a form had come to me I fear resistance would have 
 fled to the winds. But marriage is either holy or it is 
 blasphemous. I have contracted to live true to you 
 to keep myself from all others and I want to find 
 you mentally as well as physically perfect when I 
 take you to my heart." 
 
 A smile of derision sat upon the lips of the young 
 woman as she listened. 
 
 " If things like this ' must be discussed '," she re- 
 plied, mockingly, " let me suggest that you have 
 recently adopted a very exalted plana. How long is
 
 166 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 it since you sold your vows, as you call them, to the 
 highest bidder, coupled even with a suspicion of 
 perjury ? My father bought you for me with 
 money. You have no more right, in honor, to evade 
 the ordinary terms of your contract than you have to 
 proclaim them up and down the public street. But." 
 she added, wearily, " I am tired of argument. I have 
 debased myself more to-night than I did when I gave 
 my lips to my seducer. You have determined to 
 humble me, and you are master of your own actions. 
 All I ask is that you do not speak to me again ex- 
 cept in the presence of others. Some day the knowl- 
 edge of what you have done may come to haunt you. 
 If it does, remember it was not without warning !" 
 
 As she turned from him and started for her own 
 room, a wave of regret rolled across Gilbert Gray's 
 brain. While she disputed with him and criticised 
 his conduct he could be as argumentative as she. 
 But now that she was going he wanted to part with 
 her on a better basis. He was not sure but he was 
 partly in the wrong. 
 
 " A minute," he called, and she paused at the door. 
 " We have said a great many hateful things to each 
 other, and I don't like to have you leave with their 
 venom rankling. I don't know how it all started, 
 and I'm sorry it happened. One thing led to an- 
 other, I suppose. We've been very good friends, 
 Gladys, and I don't want to remember any of this 
 when I am on the sea and beyond it." 
 
 In some inexplicable way they were in each other's 
 arms. He had forgotten for the instant his horror 
 at her disrobed condition, and she had opened her 
 heart to him directly he gave way a little.
 
 "IT is MY HUSBAND'S ROOM." 167 
 
 " Hold me like this just one minute I" she stam- 
 mered, overcome with the sudden joy. " Held me ' 
 like this r 
 
 If it was a minute it was a very long one the 
 longest, perhaps, that old Time has ever had to re- 
 cord. For the morning sun came and found them 
 there, in that room where they had quarreled. The 
 one kiss the wife had craved had not been finished 
 yet. 
 
 Thus Love, in spite of all his enemies, forever 
 " finds- a way." When we think him conquered and 
 his army put to rout, he pours his legions through 
 the walls and hoists his banner on the citadel. No 
 general yet born could successfully combat him. 
 
 And when the victor has demolished the bulwarks 
 that impede his progress, how he levels the embank- 
 ments, planting flowers and shade trees where the 
 noisy cannon stood ; how he brings the little chil- 
 dren romping at their games over the fields of strife, 
 wreathing every grave with garlands !
 
 168 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 I THE CHICAGO WHEAT PIT. 
 
 DURING the week before he reached New York, 
 Gilbert Gray was in a daze. He walked the deck 
 of his steamer mechanically, ate his meals with only 
 the slightest attention to his neighbors at table, and 
 lay awake far into the night, thinking of his parting 
 hours with Gladys. How had the sudden change 
 come to pass ? How had their relations altered in 
 the twinkling of an eye, from those of ordinary 
 friendship, mingled with a certain element of dis- 
 trust, to the warmest and most endearing that can 
 exist between a man and a woman ? 
 
 He was in a whirl of doubt as to whether he ought 
 to be proud of what had occurred, or very much 
 ashamed. The unusual manner in which his mar- 
 riage had taken place, the reasons that had naturally 
 made him reserved in his wife's presence, the tacit 
 acceptance on the part of both of them of the situa- 
 tion as it seemed to outline itself, all came back to 
 him. 
 
 Then there was the tumultuous rush of blood to 
 his head, the clasping of that warm and yielding fig- 
 ure to his heart, the forgetting of everything .' 
 
 As he lay in his berth, night after night, he had 
 but one wild, overpowering wish that Gladys, and 
 not uninteresting masculine passengers, occupied 
 the cabin with him. He wanted her that woman he 
 had rejected so long with a severity he could not now
 
 THK CKJCAG9 WHEAT PIT. 169 
 
 **<!erstand. Whatever she had been, whatever 
 might be between them in the past, he wanted her 
 now. 
 
 It was not reason ; it was the mad impulse of 
 youth. She was his wife, but that was not it. She 
 might have been any other woman under the sun, 
 and it would hate been the same. He wanted 
 her ! 
 
 Upon landing he received several telegrams from 
 Colonel Newcombe, and one from Gladys. The 
 first were of the utmost importance to the business 
 he had crossed the ocean to accomplish. The latter 
 was brief and contained only these words : 
 
 " Come back as soon as you can, to the woman 
 you have made the happiest on earth." 
 
 It was only with the greatest effort that he could 
 turn from this message, which he perused a hundred 
 times, and fix his mind on the others. He sent an 
 answer, " Not happier, darling, than you have made 
 me," and then devoted himself, as well as he could, 
 to the duties before him. 
 
 There had been a terrible time on the Board at 
 Chicago. In a week fortunes are made and lost in 
 speculation. The entire amount that Colonel New- 
 combe had at stake trembled in the balance. Tied 
 to the bedside of his suffering wife he could only de- 
 pend on this novice. The final telegrams merely 
 told Mr. Gray to " use his judgment," whatever that 
 might be. He felt, as his mind grew stronger, that 
 he must accomplish something to justify the kindness 
 and confidence reposed in him by this man, who had 
 acted toward him like a second and most indulgent 
 father.
 
 170 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 But there are places where the human mind finds 
 itself overpowered by circumstances. The slump 
 that had taken place in the market could only be 
 compared to an Alpine avalanche in its sweeping 
 force. Strong hands were in the deal to lower 
 prices, and the effort had succeeded to a startling 
 degree when Gray arrived at Chicago. Colonel 
 Newcombe's brokers were at their wits' end to keep 
 him from being "called" on the floor of the 
 Exchange. 
 
 Gilbert brought little to change the situation. 
 He had authority to borrow money, if necessary, but, 
 at a time when everybody knew the business of every- 
 body else, that was not easy to get for a man who 
 held the wrong side of the lever. A little was 
 obtained in one place and a little in another, but it 
 only eased matters a trifle, and the downward 
 tendency continued to make all efforts seem useless. 
 When some days had passed and he had exhausted 
 all his funds Gray heard of a new firm of brokers 
 Godkin & Lancaster who were taking risks for 
 those ready to pay exceptional figures. In despair of 
 finding what he wanted elsewhere, he decided to pay 
 the interest they were said to demand, if he could 
 get them to loan enough on the security he could 
 give. 
 
 He was ushered into an elegantly furnished office, 
 and a boy in buttons took his card to the members 
 of the firm, who were discreetly invisible to that part 
 of the public with whom they had no dealings. In a 
 few moments the boy returned with the statement 
 that Mr. Lancaster would see the gentlema in his 
 private office.
 
 THE CHICAGO WHEAT PIT. 171 
 
 Nothing that had happened in the rush of events 
 astonished Gray so much as to find himself con- 
 fronted, in that private office, by Mr. William Neil- 
 ing. He was half inclined to leave the place at once, 
 but Neiling cut him short by asking in the cold, 
 crisp tones of business, what he could do for him. 
 
 " I asked to see Mr. Lancaster," Gray managed to 
 reply, with an air of asperity. 
 
 "That is my name," said the other, in set tones. 
 ** Will you be seated ?" 
 
 Overcome by this announcement, Gray dropped 
 into the nearest chair. He did not think anything 
 could astound him after that. 
 
 " I know what you are going to say," pursued 
 Neiling, or Lancaster, as it may now be better to 
 call him. " You have an impression, from some- 
 thing that passes in your mind, that my name is not 
 Lancaster. That impression is erroneous. I am 
 Joseph Lancaster, junior partner in the firm of God- 
 kin & Lancaster, and quite at your service." 
 
 Had the business on which he had called been 
 merely his own, Gilbert would have said to Mr. 
 Lancaster that, on reflection, he believed he had no 
 business to transact with him. But he was acting 
 for Colonel Newcombe. He had tried every other 
 concern he could think of, and it was this chance or 
 none. Clearly it would not do to be squeamish. 
 Dismissing the wonder how Neiling could have 
 transformed himself into a lender of money, when he 
 had met him so recently in the guise of a beggar, and 
 also the strangeness of his being at this end of the 
 world, he proceeded to state his errand. 
 
 " I wish to borrow fifty thousand dollars for thirty
 
 172 LOVE GONE A8TBAT. 
 
 days," he said, "and I offer as security" naming 
 the stocks and certificates of deposit. 
 
 " Is this loan for yourself, in person ?" asked Mr. 
 Lancaster. 
 
 " No, it is for Colonel Henry Newcombe." 
 
 A peculiar gleam lit up the face of the broker. 
 
 "Ah /" he said, musingly. " Colonel Newcombe's 
 note was good for a million three months ago, but I 
 fear it is not the best that might be offered, in these 
 times." 
 
 " It is reinforced by the collateral I mentioned," 
 replied Gray, stoutly. "And I am prepared to pay a 
 good rate." 
 
 Mr. Lancaster turned to a memorandum book at 
 his side. 
 
 " The present margins on all the things you offer," 
 he said, slowly, " hardly exceed the amount you wish 
 to borrow. Aside from them, I think Colonel New- 
 combe is not possessed of much property." 
 
 It was true. The millionaire of a few months ago 
 depended on the tide in the exchange for his pecu- 
 niary existence now. 
 
 " He has a fine residence on street," faltered 
 
 Gilbert. 
 
 "Which," answered Lancaster, again consulting 
 his book, " belongs to his wife. Mrs. Newcombe, 
 being very ill in London, is not in a condition to exe- 
 cute a mortgage, even if she desired to do so. The 
 Colonel has an insurance " (again looking at the 
 book) " of forty thousand dollars on his life, upon 
 which something might be raised, but certainly not 
 the sum you ask. He is in fair health, I presume,"
 
 THE CHICAGO WHEAT PIT. 178 
 
 he added, with a coolness that chiliad his hearer's 
 blood. 
 
 *' In short," Gray said, rising, *' you do not care to 
 make the loan." 
 
 " I don't see the way clear to do so," answered 
 Lancaster. "And I am sorry, too, for we have a 
 great deal of money on hand at present, and would 
 like to place it. You would expect to pay something 
 unusual, of course, ten per cent, a month or so." 
 
 The figure was not greater than has often been paid 
 under similar conditions, and Gray, who had turned 
 toward the door, faced the speaker. 
 
 " I would pay it," he said, " to get the money ; but 
 if you will not lend, the rate makes little difference." 
 
 " You can have forty thousand on your security," 
 was the slow reply, "with the understanding that we 
 are to protect ourselves in case of another fall in the 
 meantime. And if you wish ten thousand dollars 
 additional on the life insurance, the latter at a dou- 
 ble rate, being an exceptional kind of security. We 
 cannot do better, and you know whether you are 
 able to get as good terms elsewhere." 
 
 As the life insurance was not considered in any of 
 the talks or telegrams of Colonel Newcombe, Gray 
 did not feel authorized to pledge it. He therefore 
 told the broker that he would send a wire to London, 
 and report as soon as possible whether he could 
 accept the proposition or not. 
 
 " That's all right," said Lancaster. " And now, 
 before you go, allow me to return you the amounts 
 of two small loans you were once so considerate as to 
 make to a friend of mine on the other side of the sea. 
 I believe it came altogether to about two hundred
 
 174 LOVE GONE A8TEAT. 
 
 dollars, which, with interest at five per cent, a year, 
 we may call two hundred and ten. If you will sit 
 down again for a moment I will give you a check." 
 
 Nonplussed at this offer, Gray hardly knew what 
 course to take. Even in his nervous condition he had 
 not failed to notice the difference in the rate of inter- 
 est which Lancaster paid and that which he exacted. 
 On the other hand he wanted to attend to his tele- 
 gram as soon as possible and had no time to spare 
 for smaller matters. So, instead of reseating himself, 
 he remarked that the loan referred to could be repaid 
 at a later time, and that he should not, in any case, 
 accept interest. Edging toward the door he was on 
 the point of saying good-bye, when the broker spoke 
 again. 
 
 "I would rather," he said, pointedly, "that you 
 did not mention to any one, at any time, the name 
 under which you knew my friend who borrowed that 
 money from you. Poor fellow, he is dead and gone 
 now ; and I, his heir, do not care to have the days of 
 his poverty recalled." 
 
 To this Mr. Gray responded with a bow, and was 
 glad when he found himself in the street again. He 
 heard the cries of the newsboys, indicating that a 
 change for the better had taken place in the stock 
 market, and his heart beat faster as he hurried to the 
 office he had taken and found the news to be true. 
 The improvement was but slight, but at least it was 
 better than another fall. It put off for the moment 
 the necessity of borrowing money, and gave him 
 time to take breath. 
 
 He seized the opportunity to answer a letter he 
 had that morning received from Gladys, full of r
 
 THE CHICAGO WHEAT PIT. 175 
 
 love that seemed to surpass her ability to express. 
 In her new-found bliss she was happy in spite of 
 the clouds that hovered around her house. Her 
 mother was still very low when she wrote, and the 
 doctors gave no hope that there would be any per- 
 manent improvement. Her father was silent and 
 haggard, never leaving the loved one's side except to 
 take the briefest snatches of sleep, and to receive and 
 send the necessary telegrams. Of the baby she said 
 nothing, feeling that this subject did not lend itself 
 to the kind of love-letter she was writing. 
 
 " And in spite of all the troubles that are about 
 me," she wrote, "am I not wicked to be happy ? Al- 
 though my husband mine at last in deed as well as 
 name is four thousand miles away ; although I am 
 told that out of this horrible crash we may emerge 
 with half our fortune lost ; although sickness and 
 possibly death stands at the door my heart sings 
 a new tune of joy. For I have been loved, and I shall 
 be loved again! Oh, when will it be, that blessed 
 time that I am to feel your arms around me, your 
 lips against my own ! I can wait, for I am so sure 
 of you now, so confident that nothing can steal away 
 my love or my lover i"
 
 176 LOVE GONE ASTBAY. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 COLONEL NEWCOMBE RUINED. 
 
 AMONG the people that Gray saw at Chicago, was 
 Israel Dibbs, who happened to come to the same 
 hotel in the course of one of his professional visits to 
 that city. The lawyer looked precisely as of yore, 
 and smiled with what affability he could summon as 
 he held out his bony hand. 
 
 "I am not going to stand on ceremony," he said, 
 "just because you treated me coolly when I tried to 
 do you a favor. You'll have to come around and 
 deal with me yet, for the five years we were to wait, 
 by that will of Mr. Blair's, is passing away pretty 
 fast. I suppose you won't refuse the property when 
 all of the conditions have been fulfilled ?" 
 
 Gilbert wished heartily that he could take it at 
 that moment, with a good conscience, for he be- 
 lieved, in his soul, that with his knowledge of the 
 market, and the low figures stocks had reached, he 
 could rescue the whole of his father-in-law's estate 
 had he a hundred thousand dollars to work with. 
 He replied that he hoped he was not so idiotic as to 
 decline to accept his own, and reiterated the reasons 
 he had always given for refusing to touch the Blair 
 funds before the time specified in his friend's testa- 
 ment. As soon as the legal space had elapsed, he 
 assured the lawyer, he would put in his claim. 
 
 "In the meantime you are doing everything to dis- 
 cover Mr, Julius Margrave, I hope," he added.
 
 COLONEL NEWOOMBB EUINED. 177 
 
 **I am doing all I intend to do," was the civil re- 
 ply. " I insert an advertisement regularly every 
 three months in a London and a New York newspaper. 
 If he is anywhere on earth that ought to reach him 
 or some one who knows him. My opinion has never 
 changed on the subject. I believe him to have died 
 long ago. That's why I was willing to risk loaning 
 you enough to live on until you could come into pos- 
 session of what belonged to you. By-the-way, the 
 story goes that this father-in-law of yours is in a 
 pretty tight place over the drop in things. I hope 
 he's provided well for his family. No man has a 
 right to gamble with everything when there's people 
 depending on him." 
 
 Feeling that he was one of those " depending on " 
 Colonel Newcombe, Gray reddened at this state- 
 ment, in which he could not help agreeing. He asked 
 Mr. Dibbs his opinion as to the future of the market, 
 and received the honest reply that he had not the 
 least idea. As for himself, the lawyer said, he had 
 never speculated to the extent of a penny and never 
 would. He believed these gambling operations in 
 breadstuffs and meats were the curse of the country 
 and should be prohibited by law not meaning, of 
 course, to be personal. From what he had heard, 
 however, he thought things would get another drop 
 before they began to rise much. All of which, as 
 may be imagined, was not very consoling to the 
 anxious listener. 
 
 During the month that followed, the market was 
 in a tantalizing state. It rose a few fractions, fell 
 again, rose once more, went down to the old point, 
 and disappointed all the predictions made for it.
 
 178 LOVE GONE ASTBAY. 
 
 When some of the biggest operators had got things 
 fixed to suit them, the newspapers said, it would go 
 one way or the other with a rush. 
 
 " If Colonel Henry Newcombe was able to take a 
 hand in person," remarked the Tribune in its financial 
 article, " things would become more interesting. A 
 big deal without him on the ground is an anomaly." 
 
 At last there came the expected move in the prices 
 of stocks, but to the horror of Gilbert Gray it came 
 in the wrong direction for him. What looked like a 
 landslide began, and one after another of the specu- 
 lators who had held out gave way before the gigantic 
 forces arrayed on the bear side. He telegraphed to 
 England, and waited for weary hours with no an- 
 swer. There was nothing left that he could throw 
 into the scale, except the old stocks and the life 
 insurance, and in this matter he had recently been 
 instructed, as in everything else, to " use his judg- 
 ment." It was a hard position to be placed in. By 
 supporting the Colonel's investments for one day 
 for one hour, it might be the fortune he had been 
 all his life accumulating might possibly be saved. 
 On the other hand, every cent thrown into the pit 
 might merely be added to what had gone before it. 
 But the emergenc)' pressed. Gray had to choose, 
 and he chose to make one more attempt to save his 
 father-in-law from ruin. 
 
 There was no help for it, he must go to Godkin & 
 Lancaster again. During the month that had passed 
 much might have happened to influence the opinion 
 of the new firm, but it was either there or nowhere. 
 
 *' Well ?" said the broker, when he had been sum- 
 n^oned.
 
 COLONEL NEWCOMBE BTJINED. 179 
 
 He was the personification of business coolness 
 and sagacity. 
 
 " I should like that money we spoke about, the 
 fifty thousand dollars." 
 
 " And the security ?" 
 
 " The same as before, with the life insurance 
 added." 
 
 Cats always love to play with the mice they intend 
 to eat. 
 
 " That talk was a month ago, I think/' said Mr. 
 Lancaster, critically. 
 
 "Yes," stammered Gray. "But, as the market 
 has 1 been so easy, I could get along without the 
 money till now." 
 
 " And when you cannot get along without it, you 
 want us to take the risk for you ?'' 
 
 The other was silent. Was he to be refused, after 
 all? 
 
 " Well," said Lancaster, " that is, in a certain sense, 
 our particular line of business. All we ask is that 
 the profits shall compensate for the dangers. Since 
 I talked with you we have had large investments of- 
 fered to us, and have taken up many of them. The 
 amount we have handy is smaller, naturally, and we 
 must have a larger rate.' 
 
 A larger rate than one hundred and twenty per 
 cent, a year ! 
 
 ** What rate do you ask ?" said Gray. It was as 
 well to come to the point at once. 
 
 " Double the one I gave you before. Now, mind, 
 I am not asking you to deal with us. No firm call- 
 ing itself conservative would lend you a dollar as 
 things are, at any price. We are not conservative
 
 180 LOVE GONE ASTEAT. 
 
 and so far we have got along very well with our 
 mode of doing business." He paused and stood like 
 a man who had no time to waste. " It is for you to 
 say.'' 
 
 " I will take it," replied Gray, promptly. He had 
 heard nothing from London, and did not dare invite 
 delay. 
 
 Mr. Lancaster glanced at some telegrams that lay 
 on his desk, and then excused himself for a moment 
 while he went into the next office to consult with his 
 partner. 
 
 " Fifty thousand, you think, will be enough ?" he 
 asked, returning. 
 
 " I understood it was all you would loan." 
 
 " Yes, I did say so," was the thoughtful reply, " but 
 Mr. Godkin says we can make it fifty-five, if you 
 wish.' 
 
 " By all means." 
 
 When the papers were drawn and signed, and the 
 money delivered, Gray went upon the street to find 
 that he was none too soon. Another hour's delay would 
 have lowered his margins below the necessary point. 
 He put up twenty-five thousand dollars, and before 
 the day closed had to deposit another sum of the 
 same amount. Still not a word came to him from 
 London. The next morning dawned, and the sun, 
 before it reached the zenith, saw a thousand ruined 
 speculators pale with their losses, before the triumph 
 of the great Pool that had ruined them. The last 
 penny of the money Gray had borrowed went like 
 the first, so much tinder in the flame. The name of 
 Colonel Newcombe was called upon the floor of the 
 building in which it had been for so long a tower of
 
 "JUST MY LUCK." 181 
 
 strength, and the last of the fortune he had made 
 there vanished from sight. 
 
 Gilbert felt that he had made all the fight possible, 
 but it was with a very sad heart that he beheld the 
 end of his efforts. He knew that nearly everything 
 the Colonel possessed had perished in that affair. 
 There was still the house he had lived in, and which 
 he had given to his wife in happier days. This 
 would have to be sold to provide even the ordinary 
 necessaries of life to the invalid. As for the son-in- 
 law and the daughter, what could be done with them, 
 one about as useful to society as the other ? It wa3 
 a dreary prospect that presented itself, truly. 
 
 It is often said that there is no depth which has 
 not a greater one beneath. A cablegram came that 
 evening that sounded the deeper cavity : 
 
 " Mrs. Newcombe died yesterday. Colonel had shock, 
 doubtful if he rallies, Mrs. Gray prostrated. I await di- 
 rections. 
 
 "YATES." 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 "JUST MY LUCK.* 
 
 IT was no new thing in Gilbert Gray's experience 
 to be short of money ; but to find his pockets empty 
 with a helpless family on his hands was much worse 
 than the same circumstance when he had only him- 
 self to think of. After the first crushing moments
 
 182 LOVE GONE ASTEAY. 
 
 had spent themselves he began to calculate what it 
 was best to do. In his purse he found a very small 
 sum indeed. The very hotel in which he was staying 
 had a bill against him, or rather against the Colonel, 
 for it was upon his order that the entertainment had 
 been furnished. Not only were there no funds to 
 draw on, but the paper he had given Godkin & Lan- 
 caster stood as an indebtedness against the New- 
 combes. 
 
 And this condition of affairs confronted the young 
 man when the telegram informed him that a pros- 
 trated wife, a stricken father-in-law and arrange- 
 ments for a funeral awaited his directions on the 
 other side of the Atlantic ocean ! 
 
 With little sleep he passed the long night, a prey 
 to the most dismal forebodings. In the morning he 
 bethought himself of the two hundred dollars that 
 Mr. Lancaster owed him, and went to that gentle- 
 man's office to get it, as something worth recovering 
 out of the general wreck. He found Lancaster walk- 
 ing up and down, with his hands in his pockets, 
 whistling a merry tune. 
 
 " Well, upon my word !"- he exclaimed, when he 
 heard Gray's errand. "Are you not a little incon- 
 siderate in the time you select ? As near as I can 
 understand, we are out forty thousand dollars by you 
 already." 
 
 " By Colonel Newcombe," corrected Gilbert. " I 
 acted specifically as his agent. The other matter 
 was mine alone." 
 
 " I wish you had taken it when it was offered," said 
 Lancaster. " The fact is, we are about as short now 
 as we like to be. That devilish market broke us up
 
 "JUST MY LUCK." 183 
 
 with the rest. We had a fine calculation, but it went 
 awry. If it had succeeded we should have been 
 among the best of them when the accounts were 
 scored. Now we are practically ' on our uppers,' as 
 the saying is, cleaned out of enough good cash to dis- 
 gust a Vanderbilt." 
 
 He smiled as he said this, and began again to 
 whistle the tune he had left off. 
 
 " You do not act like a very dispirited man," said 
 Gray, wonderingly. 
 
 "Oh! What's the use ? It's not the first time I've 
 been through trouble, and I've got used to taking 
 whatever comes my way. Spilt milk isn't worth cry- 
 ing for." 
 
 Gray turned toward the door. 
 
 " Then you can't let me have it," he said. 
 
 " Yes, I can ; I'm not quite so badly fixed as that. 
 Only it would have been easier when you came 
 before, for then I was riding on the top of the wave, 
 while now I'm nearer the bottom." He sat down at 
 a desk and wrote out a check. " Here, I've added 
 ten dollars for interest. I don't want to owe you 
 anything." 
 
 His last words were spoken with a tinge of the 
 venom of old times, which Gilbert could not help 
 noting, but before he could remark upon it, Lancas- 
 ter had branched into another subject. 
 
 " What's the latest news from Colonel New- 
 combe ?" 
 
 " He's had a paralytic shock," said Gray, soberly. 
 
 "Of course I knew that I wouldn't have lent 
 money on his life insurance if I hadn't but I mean,
 
 184 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 | 
 
 what's the prospect ? How long should yo& say he 
 ought to live ?" 
 
 Gray shrank from the cold-bloodedness of the 
 question. So this man had been informed of that 
 shock to the Colonel hours and hours before ^knew 
 it, and had loaned the lost money on that account. 
 And at this moment he was figuring on the death 
 that must ensue, with no other thought than to re- 
 cover as soon as possible the amount he had at stake. 
 There was something uncanny in the fellow, as Gray 
 had long ago had occasion to feel. The less he had 
 to do with him the better. He took up the check 
 that had been made out in his name with an idea that 
 it might crumble to pieces in his fingers. 
 
 " I hope Colonel Newcombe will live many, many 
 years yet," he answered, with a firm voice. " Shocks 
 are not always fatal, and I await news of his condi- 
 tion with great hope." 
 
 Mr. Lancaster laughed. 
 
 " It would be just my devilish luck if he did live," 
 said he. "And, by George! I need that fifteen 
 thousand dollars this minute. But I'm in good com- 
 pany. You must be as near strapped as any one. 
 Going back to England, I suppose, as soon as you 
 can get started. Perhaps we shall be passengers on 
 the same boat, for that's exactly what I'm going to 
 do myself." 
 
 Gray got out of the office with what grace he could, 
 and went back to his hotel, where he found a line 
 from his wife, to this effect : 
 
 " Have arranged for temporary interment ; papa no worse; 
 see to everything necessary before you come ; I am much 
 stronger. GLA.DYS."
 
 "JUST MY LTTCK." 185 
 
 It was something. He pictured to himself the 
 scene. The young mother bending over the body of 
 her loved one, broken-hearted with her loss, taking 
 upon herself for the first time responsibilities she 
 knew so little how to sustain. Gladys had risen un- 
 expectedly to the emergency, and would " hold the 
 fort" till he could decide what to do. 
 
 Wandering about his hotel, puzzled with his 
 dilemma, Gilbert ran across Israel Dibbs, and was 
 delighted to see that homely face, belonging to one 
 to whom he could at least unveil his troubles. Dibbs 
 listened without a word till Gray had told the out- 
 lines of his story, and then began to take up the 
 various threads. 
 
 "It amounts to just this, doesn't it ?" said he, 
 "The Newcombe millions have shrunk to the houss 
 and furniture in this city, and what is left of the lifa 
 insurance." 
 
 Gray ruefully admitted that this was about the 
 situation. 
 
 " And what is the Chicago property worth ?" 
 
 Gray was obliged to say he did not know. 
 
 "I'll find out approximately," said Dibbs, rising 
 and crossing the room, to hold a whispered conver- 
 sation with a man whom he saw there, buried in the 
 columns of the morning paper. " It's worth some- 
 thing like forty thousand dollars, if forced upon the 
 market, fifty if time is allowed," was the verdict which 
 he brought back. "Then you say there is twenty- 
 five thousand dollars margin on the insurance, over 
 and above what is pledged to the broker. Why, my 
 boy, you are not paupers by any means."
 
 186 LOVE GONE ASTKAT. 
 
 The young man tried to see it in that light, but 
 could not entirely agree with the lawyer. 
 
 " I don't like to count the insurance on a live man 
 as part of his assets," he said, " and the house where 
 my wife has lived and to which she has always ex- 
 pected to return is an unpleasant thing to part with. 
 I am sure she will think so if the subject has to be 
 broached to her." 
 
 " Bah !" said Dibbs. " You don't talk like a busi- 
 ness man at all. You never did, for that matter. I 
 offered you enough to live on, long ago " 
 
 But Gilbert interrupted, and said he did not want 
 to discuss that. 
 
 "Very well, let it go. Now, what should I do, if I 
 were in your case ? Raise another ten thousand on 
 that life insurance as quick as I could do it. Go to 
 England, settle up things there, bring Mrs. New- 
 combe's body and what is left of her husband home. 
 Go and live in the house here and watch a good 
 chance to sell it for all it's worth, in case the Colonel 
 continues to live. If he dies take the balance of his 
 insurance money and live economically on it for 
 three years more, until you come into the Blair es- 
 tate, and then you won't need to think of the future, 
 for there will be enough for all of you." 
 
 The programme was too complicated to be ac- 
 cepted as a whole without much consideration, but it 
 was evident that ready money must be had, and the 
 insurance scheme looked the best of any if it could 
 be carried out. 
 
 "Do you think I could raise any more on the 
 policies ?" asked Gilbert, doubtfully,,
 
 RETURNING TO LONDON. 187 
 
 " How old is Colonel Newcombe?" was the ques- 
 tion of the lawyer. 
 
 "Sixty-seven." 
 
 " And he has had a paralytic shock. Can you 
 borrow any more ? Why, I'll lend you ten, myself. 
 And if you wish I'll pay these brokers off and take 
 the whole. They're charging you too much, twenty 
 per cent, a month. I'll take the whole thing for 
 five." 
 
 With this Mr. Dibbs opened the palms of his hands 
 and spread them out in an unconsciously Hebraic 
 way that brought a smile to Gilbert's face, even in the 
 midst of his distress. He knew no reason, however, 
 why he should not accept this offer, and after a little 
 further talk he closed with it. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 RETURNING TO LONDON. 
 
 WHEN the cash was in Gilbert's hands he felt for 
 the moment like a new man, and replied to his wife's 
 telegram, asking her to remain where she was till he 
 could come, and adding a word or two of love, even 
 at the price the cable companies charge for such 
 communications. During the next week he settled 
 all the affairs connected with the Newcombes, visited 
 the residence they had occupied, which he found 
 delightfully situated and elegantly furnished, and
 
 188 LOVE GONE ASTEAY. 
 
 made his way to New York, where he waited a couple 
 of days for the steamer on which he was to sail. 
 
 Here he was destined once more to come in con- 
 tact with Joseph Lancaster, a name by which that 
 disagreeable individual had now become accustomed 
 to be known in his mind. While taking a lunch in a 
 restaurant, and occupied also in reading an English 
 newspaper, Lancaster espied him and crossed the 
 room. 
 
 " 'Pon my word, a pleasant surprise !" was his first 
 exclamation, and he had need to say no more before 
 Gray discovered that liquor had somewhat thickened 
 his tongue. " Nothing so delightful's meeting a 
 friend, when one's in a strange country." 
 
 There were only two things to do either to have a 
 row with him, and tell him his society was not wanted, 
 or to bear the infliction of his presence a little while. 
 Gray did not want the former, and as he had not 
 finished his lunch, the latter seemed the most advis- 
 able course. 
 
 " I'm going to England, Saturday," pursued Lan- 
 caster, seeming to take his welcome as a matter of 
 course. "On the Umbria. Nice boat. Same I 
 came over on. Funny things have happened since 
 then, eh ? 'Pon my word, when I landed in this 
 blessed town, I hadn't a dollar to my name. Only 
 for that fifteen thousand dollars on the old gentle- 
 man, that your friend Bibbs, or Dibbs, or whatever 
 his name is, paid in, I'd have had to stay in Chicago 
 or walked here. I was just shutting up the shop. 
 When you're broke you're no broker, ha, ha ! I took 
 that fifteen thousand, and in two days ten of it was 
 gone- When the Umbria sails it's two to one I go on
 
 3ETURNING TO LONDON. 189 
 
 board with nothing but my ticket and three sover- 
 eigns for the stewards. What a cuss I am !" 
 
 To this remarkable statement Gray contented 
 himself with occasional bows, though the recital, 
 which he had no reason to doubt was a correct one, 
 astonished him immensely. 
 
 " It was the damnedest thing, the way that market 
 went !" pursued Lancaster, with only a pause for 
 breath. " The first week after I took hold of it I 
 made money like smoke. I sold everything short, 
 and my profits were enormous. Then, says I to my- 
 self, you'd better haul in your lines, old boy, and 
 embark, as a money lender. I had what I thought a 
 solid tip from the inside that wheat was going to 
 sixty and stop there, and I was in, I thought, for all 
 the chances when it got ready to turn. In the mean- 
 time I was to get big interest on my money. But, 
 confound the thing ! I was bamboozled as well as 
 the rest, by the big ring. My profits went out of the 
 window faster than they came in. That insur- 
 ance loan was positively the only thing I saved. 
 Say, what will you have to drink ?" 
 
 A declination to drink anything beyond the bottle 
 of beer he was already consuming, had no effect on 
 the Englishman, who loudly ordered a waiter to 
 bring two glasses of Scotch, very hot, one for him- 
 self and one for " the other gent." Not waiting till 
 the liquors arrived, he then launched out in a long 
 tirade against the institutions of America, where noth- 
 ing, it appeared, was to his liking, and the business 
 men of which he considered the biggest rogues and 
 cut-throats on the face of the earth. 
 
 "I ain't including you, Gray, in what I'm saying,"
 
 190 LOVE GONE A8TBAY. 
 
 he added, when his listener showed signs of uneasi- 
 ness that even his befuddled brain could not help see- 
 ing. "You are, on the whole, the squarest man lever 
 met too much so, in fact, for your own interests. 
 Understand," he continued, dropping his voice, " I 
 know a good deal about you that isn't common 
 property, and I think you've acted on the square 
 where some wouldn't. In all that Newcombe busi- 
 ness you've been what I call White. You've stuck 
 to your agreements like a like a Man. And if 
 others ain't done as they should, or if they don't in 
 the future, that ain't your fault. I've said it afore, 
 and I'll say it anywhere, to anybody." 
 
 Gilbert Gray's knife and fork dropped to his plate, 
 and his very heart stood still as he heard these omin- 
 ous words. In vino veritas ! The liquor in this 
 fellow's head had set him to talking in a way he 
 would probably have never done had he been sober. 
 But what did he mean ? what did he know ? and 
 how had he learned a secret that had been thought 
 so well kept? There was a moment of hesitation 
 what course to pursue ; whether to listen longer 
 to this wretch, perhaps even to ply him with ques- 
 tions, or to get away from him as soon as possible, 
 and breathe an air untainted by his presence. 
 
 The latter course was the one adopted. Gray had 
 never deviated from his early determination to stand 
 through everything by the Pretenses he had as- 
 sumed. To discuss any other contingency was to 
 admit everything. He could only profess by his 
 manner not to understand the mutterings of this 
 half-intoxicated man, and to trust that whatever he 
 knew or suspected would be divulged to no one else.
 
 RETURNING TO LONDON. 191 
 
 But what did he know, and what did he suspect? 
 How should he know anything of that Secret hidden 
 so closely ! 
 
 " I shall have to leave you," said Gray, making a 
 pretense of consulting his watch. " I have an en- 
 gagement." 
 
 " Very well," said Lancaster, grasping his hand in 
 spite of him. " Mum's the word, you know ! Ta, 
 ta ! See you in London." Then he added, in a 
 strangely different manner from the one he had be- 
 fore assumed, "No 'fence, I hope ! No harm done ! 
 And you won't say I blabbed, for it's all on honor. 
 Don't'mention that I talked about anything not to 
 Darius Yates, or anybody. Eh !" 
 
 Gray shook his head rapidly and got out of the 
 restaurant as quickly as he could. He did not like 
 the looks of what he had heard. The use of Mr. 
 Yates' name at the end struck him as particularly 
 disagreeable. He could not believe the crafty solici- 
 tor had allowed a professional matter to slip from 
 him, a piece of business in which he himself had 
 played an unlawful part, and which would naturally 
 be kept as secret as the inner workings of a lodge- 
 room. 
 
 The unpleasant feelings engendered made him re- 
 solve to exchange, if possible, the ticket he had 
 already purchased on the.Umbria for one on another 
 boat. He could not bear to think of making a 
 week's voyage in the company of the man he had 
 just left. To his joy the transfer was easily made, and 
 though the boat he took was one day later in reach- 
 ing the English coast, he was highly satisfied with the 
 arrangement.
 
 192 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 He wired to Gladys the name of his new steamer, 
 but when it came to adding the usual expressions of 
 affection he found himself unequal to the task. His 
 mind was too much upset to form the right sen- 
 tences. Of all the troubles he had had, those refer- 
 ring to his peculiar marriage were the hardest to 
 bear. So much time had passed without hearing the 
 faintest breath of suspicion directed against him that 
 he had come to regard this, at least, as one of the 
 things he need not dread. If the facts, or any part 
 of them, were in the possession of so unscrupulous a 
 fellow as Neiling, or Lancaster, or whatever else he 
 might choose to be called, there would always be 
 cause for anxiety. And at present he had enough 
 else to bear. 
 
 He thought it all over on the steamer, as he trav- 
 ersed the ocean. The arrangement he had made 
 with the Newcombes had not been all sunshine, but 
 he had no right to complain. He had embraced its 
 conditions at a time when he seemed drifting stead- 
 ily to either starvation or suicide. He had taken 
 Gladys " for better, for worse," to protect her name 
 and that of her little one. It was silly to be fright- 
 ened by the bark of a dog, that probably had too 
 much cowardice to bite. Still, look at it as he might, it 
 was not agreeable to feel that Lancaster had it in his 
 power to say things that would excite doubt. The 
 only consolation was that the strange Englishman 
 was on his way to his own country, whence, if he was 
 to be believed, he would never go to the United States 
 again. Once settled in Chicago, Gilbert felt that he 
 would be in little danger from that source. 
 
 When he reached the hotel at which the family
 
 BKTUBNING TO LONDON. 193 
 
 were staying, Gladys rushed weeping into his arms. 
 She wore a haggard look, which her trials accounted 
 for, and clung to her husband's breast for a longtime 
 wtthout uttering any articulate word other than terms 
 of endearment. Gilbert soothed her as best he could, 
 though he did not respond very fully to her caresses. 
 He was too anxious to learn the exact condition of 
 affairs. 
 
 It appeared that there had been no great change. 
 Colonel Newcombe was able to move about slowly, 
 but his mental powers had received a severe wrench. 
 He persisted in staying most of the time in the room 
 where his wife had died, and appeared lost to all 
 other subjects. Since his shock he had not once 
 spoken of business matters. He was, in short, quite 
 broken in mind, and the doctors said he would never 
 be any better. The baby Gladys spoke of Marianne 
 only when asked about her, and then with a shy hesi- 
 tation was the only 011-2 in the family who seemed 
 entirely well. For, she did not fail to remark, Gil- 
 bert himself looked lik one who had just risen from 
 a sick bed. 
 
 He told her the voyage had been rather rough, and 
 went with her to sae her father. It was a severe trial 
 to meet the old gentleman, in his present state ; 
 worse, he thought, than to have found him in his 
 coffin. The tall, bent form, the iron-gray hair, the 
 dignified bearing were left, but the light in the dark 
 eyes was not the familiar one. When asked if he 
 knew Gilbert, the Colonel answered, " Why, cer- 
 tainly ; it's " and the name had to be furnished 
 
 him before he could pronounce it. 
 
 " I can't talk long to you," he added. " I have to
 
 194 LOVE GONE ASTKAT. 
 
 stay with Her. She needs me." And he pointed to 
 the empty bed as he spoke. 
 
 That was the true marriage love, the love that fol- 
 lows its object beyond the bounds of earth, that does 
 not separate the grave. Mrs. Newcombe did, per- 
 haps, need him, indeed ! It may be, from the other 
 side of the veil that hid her, she still called him to 
 her side ! 
 
 There were immense bills to pay bills that quite 
 astounded Gray when they were presented. For three 
 months the hotel where they all lived had received 
 nothing. The doctors were rapacious beyond belief. 
 The undertaker was a man without conscience. The 
 money Gilbert had brought home dwindled rapidly 
 as he settled these accounts. He said nothing to 
 Gladys about the condition of the estate, preferring 
 to wait to the very last moment before going into 
 that painful subject. It was decided that Colonel 
 Newcombe could travel, and arrangements were 
 made for going to America at the earliest practicable 
 date. 
 
 One evening Joseph Lancaster waylaid Mr. Gray 
 and asked, in the most craven tones, for the loan of 
 forty pounds just the same two hundred dollars he 
 had repaid, he said, not mentioning the eight thousand 
 pounds he had lost. If he could have it he promised to 
 repay it on the following day. It was only a tempor- 
 ary expedient, and of the utmost importance to him. 
 
 Prudence asserted itself and the money was loaned. 
 And what was strange, it was repaid punctually. 
 
 " Where does his money come from and where 
 does it go?" asked Gray, vainly, as he put the forty 
 pounds back in his pocket.
 
 **TOU'VK GOT THB FBETTIEST WIFE." 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 " YOU'VE GOT THE PRETTIEST WIFE." 
 
 AMONG the bills which came in at the last moment 
 was one of six hundred pounds from Mr. Darius 
 Yatee, for "legal services and expenses." No items 
 were given, but Mr. Yates said in a note which he 
 enclosed that the matter extended over a period of 
 several years and that he had been considerate in the 
 amount, owing to the troubles that had befallen the 
 Newcombe family. This account worried Gilbert 
 immensely, and he felt obliged to go to Gladys to 
 ask if she knew anything about it. 
 
 " Did did Mr. Yates send you this ?" she asked, 
 opening her eyes in wonder, 
 
 " Yes, just as you see it. If this sort of thing 
 keeps on we shall all land in the poorhouse before 
 we can get out of England." 
 
 " I guess it's not so bad as that," replied Gladys, 
 smiling faintly, " But I am surprised at this bill. I 
 always understood," she explained, "that it was a a 
 matter of friendship his dealings with father. I I 
 can't understand it in the least. Still," she paused 
 to consider, " I would pay it without making any 
 talk ; that is the easiest way out of it." 
 
 Gilbert breathed a sigh of distress. 
 
 "My dear girl," he said, " you will have to know 
 some time, and I may as well tell you now, that 
 money to meet bills of this size is not as plenty with 
 your father as it once was. This means three thou-
 
 196 LOVE 0ONB ASTBAY. 
 
 sand dollars, and to teil the truth, it will cramp me 
 very much." 
 
 He saw that she did not comprehend the full 
 meaning of what he said, and he had no heart to tell 
 her the entire truth. She only repeated that it would 
 be better to settle all bills and feel that there was 
 nothing forthcoming to bother him. 
 
 " But, what could Yates have done to come to such 
 a sum ?" he demanded. He was not used to dealing 
 with men of the law who rendered bills of that size. 
 
 "You know some of the things," stammered his 
 wife. " We certainly don't want any dispute with 
 him. You can see it would not be wise." 
 
 Yes, he could see it, but he did not like the appear- 
 ance of the bill any better for that. He thought it a 
 distinctly excessive charge, and one that would 
 not have been rendered if Colonel Newcombe had 
 not been past giving evidence in the matter. Little 
 as he liked to meet Mr. Yates, he felt it his duty to 
 discuss the bill with him before he paid it in full, and 
 he went to the solicitor's office for that purpose. 
 
 Mr. Yates was in, and rose with a subdued sort of 
 cordiality to welcome his visitor, first closing the 
 door that stood open in the rear of his desk. 
 
 " I got this bill from you to-day," was the short 
 way in which Gray opened the conversation. 
 
 Ah !" said Mr. Yates. 
 
 *' And I was somewhat surprised at its amount." 
 
 "Ah !" said the solicitor, again. 
 
 " We have suffered losses, as you know," went on 
 Gray, " and are doing the best we canto pull our- 
 selves out of the mire. And things like this, of
 
 "YOU'VE GOT THE PRETTIEST WIFE." 197 
 
 which I had no previous warning, are not particularly 
 agreeable." 
 
 " Ah !" repeated Mr. Yates. Then, when the other 
 waited for him to add something to this expression, 
 he said, " I am not in the least haste for this money. 
 I only sent the bill because my client was about to 
 leave England." 
 
 Gray was somewhat mollified. 
 
 " But still I am surprised that Colonel Newcombe 
 should owe you so much," he said. " Mrs. Gray my 
 wife says she thought what you did for the Col- 
 onel was in the way of friendship that it was not 
 a legal matter at alL." 
 
 The solicitor opened his eyes wider. 
 
 " Did Mrs. Gray say that ?" he asked. ** Very well, 
 then. Do you want me to call it 'a matter of friend- 
 ship'?" 
 
 " It is not a question of friendship for me, or for 
 Mrs. Gray," was the annoyed reply, " but for Col- 
 onel Newcombe. Of course you know what your 
 relations with him were. If the bill is due if there 
 is nothing justly deductible from' it I shall see it 
 paid. Only, to speak the exact truth, it looks to me 
 rather large." 
 
 There was a moment of waiting, the solicitor seem- 
 ing to prefer that Gray should finish all he had to 
 say before he made any suggestion. Then, when it 
 was apparent that the latter had come to the only 
 point he meant to advance for the present, the lawyer 
 spoke agaia. 
 
 "I did a great deal for Colonel Newcombe," said 
 he, impressively. " Perhaps the fact that I liked him 
 influenced me to go farther than I might have done
 
 198 LOVE GONE A8TBAY. 
 
 for an ordinary client, but that is no reason I should 
 not be paid for my work and expenses. You know 
 one of the things I did. You know it was not with- 
 out some cost. Why, the very cash I paid to you, 
 and for you, is included in that bill ! I couldn't 
 itemize things like those, but I see no reason why I 
 should stand them out of my own pocket." 
 
 The recollections thus brought up staggered Gray, 
 but he felt that his duty compelled him to say that 
 those expenses whatever they were could have 
 made but a small part of six hundred pounds. 
 
 " Oh, they were not all, by any means," was the 
 ready answer. " I had to do other things, that Col- 
 onel Newcombe could not do for himself, and which, 
 if you insist, I will give you in greater detail." 
 
 There was an air of mystery about this statement 
 that contributed to Gray's nervousness and made 
 him wish he were well out of the affair. Imagination 
 took wild flights as to what these "other things" 
 might have been. Perhaps dealing with the father 
 of Gladys* child was one of them ! Certainly they 
 included the bribery at Amsterdam. The more he 
 thought the less he was willing to have that chapter 
 of his wife's life reopened. 
 
 " And you have had nothing on account ?" he 
 asked, desperately. 
 
 " Not a ha'penny. I knew the Colonel was rich 
 and honorable. I was in no haste for the money, any 
 more than I am now. Don't worry yourself about 
 it, Mr. Gray. And as I said before, if you want me 
 to pay those things myself out of friendship for 
 you and for Mrs. Gray you have only to say the 
 word."
 
 " TOU*VE GOT THE PBETTIEST WIFE." 199 
 
 There was the aroma of an indefinable insult in 
 this proposition, thus repeated, that stung the 
 younger man to the quick. He replied with heat 
 that he wished nothing of the sort, and that, if it 
 should not be convenient for this bill to be settled 
 before Colonel Newcome left England, he hoped in- 
 terest would be added to it. 
 
 "That is the right spirit to show," said the solici- 
 tor, with a poor pretense of complimenting him, 
 "You realize as well as I that most of these items 
 are not collectible in a court of justice. They hang 
 on th'e honor of one man in dealing with another. 
 It would not do to bring to the gaze of a cold, un- 
 feeling world certain matters that are so far the 
 property of no one but you, your wife, her father and 
 myself." 
 
 Gray shivered. 
 
 "Are you sure," he replied, thinking of Lancas- 
 ter's insinuations, " that the secret is still within the 
 narrow limit of which you speak ?" 
 
 The solicitor sat more upright in his chair as he 
 asked the object of the question. 
 
 " Because," explained Gray, " there is another per- 
 son who has thrown out hints to me several times 
 hints that showed too plainly he knew something 
 irregular had occurred." 
 
 Yates met the anxious look with a blank one, as if 
 he could not, for the life of him, make out what his 
 companion meant. 
 
 " Some one has thrown out hints ?" he repeated. 
 " Are you certain you have not been misled by your 
 fears ?" 
 
 " Quite certain. He made allusions the last time
 
 200 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 that could not be mistaken. He was somewhat in 
 drink and forgot his usual prudence." 
 
 At the mention of drink a look of intelligence 
 came into the other's face. 
 
 "You don't mean that fellow what did he call 
 himself Neiling ?" 
 
 "And if I do ?" asked Gray, sharply. 
 
 " Why, if you do," said Yates, " he doesn't amount 
 to that r He snapped his fingers to show the exact 
 estimate at which he held the person alluded to. 
 " And I'll tell you another thing if he says a word 
 I'll put him where he won't enjoy going, too !" 
 
 " I've not said it was he," replied Gray, disliking 
 to have the matter go too far. " Indeed, the person 
 who spoke to me bore quite a different name." 
 
 Mr. Yates shook his head. 
 
 " He bears names enough," he answered. " As 
 many as he likes ; but it was the same man there 
 couldn't be any other. Drunk or sober, he must hold 
 his tongue, or it will be worse for him !" 
 
 The solicitor had lashed himself into quite a fury, 
 and Gray was glad to put an end to the conversa- 
 tion. 
 
 " Well, about this bill, then," said he, rising ; " I 
 will pay it as soon as convenient, and you may I 
 would rather you did add the interest." 
 
 The solicitor indicated that this was a matter of 
 small moment. 
 
 '* You had a deuce of a time over there at Chicago, 
 I understand," he said. " I saw the Colonel every 
 day and knew what was going on. Pity to see a nice 
 fortune like his go up in smoke. It didn't cripple 
 you entirely, I trus*."
 
 * FOU' r &Of YHfi PUEV11EST WIFB. * 201 
 
 Mr. Gray replied, as briefly as he could, that there 
 was still left enough to get along on. He also men- 
 tioned, with a little pride, that he would soon be in 
 possession of an estate of his own and independent 
 of everybody. 
 
 " Yes, 1 remember," said Yates, reminiscently. " So 
 the other heir never turned up? If he doesn't come 
 to light before the end of five years from the death 
 of Mr. Mr. " 
 
 " Blair." 
 
 " Mr. Blair, you get half the old gentleman left, 
 eh ? How much do you think that will be ?" 
 
 "Over two hundred thousand dollars," replied 
 Gray, glad to be able to name such a comfortable 
 figure. 
 
 " Well, well ! that's not so bad. A very decent 
 windfall. It all comes back to me now, what you told 
 me when we first met, about your refusing to take a 
 cent of it till the full limit expired. Very honorable 
 of you, certainly. And in the meantime you've had 
 your ups and downs. Your fortune from the New- 
 combes has fled, but all is not lost. You've got a 
 treasure in your wife that no man can take away." 
 
 At this unexpected reference to Gladys, Gilbert 
 colored deeply. He resented the allusion, but it was 
 made in polite terms and he could not show his sen- 
 timents without appearing silly. The most that he 
 wanted now was to get away from this man, whose 
 presence he had never learned to like, and who was 
 liable to irritate him to the fullest degree without 
 the least apparent intention of so doing. Gray put 
 his hand on the doorknob, but was arrested by one 
 other expression of the kind he detested.
 
 202 LOVE GONE ASTKAY. 
 
 "You've got the prettiest wife in the world, and, 
 in spite of what is past, the best. The child, too, no 
 one could help loving her. And I assure you once 
 more, your secret is safe. You have nothing to do but 
 to enjoy life to the full, as a man of your parts and 
 circumstances ought to do. I don't think you've 
 ever been really sorry for the bargain I led you 
 into." 
 
 Gray could bear no more. He opened the office 
 door, and descended the stairs at a good pace, pre- 
 ferring to seem impolite rather than endure another 
 word on that subject. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 PLUNGED INTO POVERTY. 
 
 RELIEVED for the time of the large bill, Gray ar- 
 angedfor the departure of his family. It was a sol- 
 emn party that took the steamer at Southampton, 
 <*ith Gladys in deep black, Colonel Newcombe under 
 Hie guidance of an attendant, and the body of Mrs. 
 Hewcombe in a leaden casket on board. The only 
 o^e that showed the least enjoyment of the trip was 
 Elby Marianne, whose laugh broke the stillness of 
 hrr mother's stateroom many times during the voy- 
 age. Gray devoted much of his leisure to his father- 
 in-law, who proved very tractable, though he inquired 
 every few minutes for his dead companion.
 
 PLUNGED IlfTO POVEBTY. 203 
 
 " Where is Mrs. Newcombe ?" he would say, over 
 and over. 
 
 " We are going to her," was the invariable reply. 
 
 Once he said, staring at the sea : 
 
 "This does not look like London." 
 
 And Gilbert answered : 
 
 " No, we are on our way to Chicago, to your old 
 home," which seemed to satisfy the inquirer for the 
 time. 
 
 He did not ask about Gladys, seeming to have for- 
 gotten her entirely. It was a pitiable sight. He ate 
 the food that was brought him, and slept well. It 
 was plain that he might live a long while yet. 
 
 At Chicago the Colonel seemed actually to improve. 
 He recognized his old surroundings and went from 
 room to room with an air of satisfaction. He could 
 walk very well with a cane, and soon ceased to re- 
 quire any special attention. But when he had gone 
 over the house for half an hour or so, he always came 
 back with the old inquiry : Where was his wife ? and 
 the servants were told to make the same reply, on all 
 occasions : 
 
 " She has gone out for a little while." 
 
 One day he noticed the baby, who was playing on 
 the floor, and asked whose it was. Being told, he 
 nodded slowly, as if he recollected, and then immedi- 
 ately forgot again. 
 
 He continued to recognize Gilbert and to like to 
 have him near, but even his name had to be repeated 
 before he could pronounce it. 
 
 Gray now took the first occasion that he thought 
 wise to tell his wife the full condition of her affairs. 
 There was the house they were living in, now hers by
 
 204 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 inheritance, with a right of occupancy on the part of 
 her father. There was the encumbered insurance. 
 Nothing more. Taxes had been paid, and the 
 amount of available cash was running very low. 
 
 The young woman was shocked at the statement. 
 She had known that her father had lost money, but 
 she supposed him still a wealthy man. She shrank 
 from selling the residence, saying that he needed it 
 while he lived that it would be a cruelty, when all 
 else was gone, to deprive the poor old man of his 
 home. Gilbert agreed with her, but asked what could 
 be done. It was an expensive house to live in. He 
 had been unable to obtain such a situation as she 
 would be willing to have him accept. Things were 
 coming to a crisis. 
 
 " If your own money were only available !" she 
 said, with a sigh. 
 
 " But it is not," he answered. " There will be 
 more than two years yet before I shall get it, if ever." 
 
 It was idiotic, staying in a house like that, keeping 
 three servants, living at the rate of five thousand dol- 
 lars a year, when the purse was empty. Then, when 
 things seemed at their worst, several lawsuits were 
 put upon the Colonel, and among other unpleasant 
 things his interest in the residence they occupied was 
 attached. They could not sell it, anyway, while thus 
 encumbered, and they might as well live in it as to 
 pay rent elsewhere. They reduced the number of 
 servants by one and tried to economize at the table ; 
 but neither of them knew how to accomplish much 
 in that direction, and the ship continued to drift 
 toward the rocks. 
 
 Mr. Gray persevered without avail in his effort to
 
 PLUNGED INTO POVERTY. 205 
 
 get something to do, and several journeys were made 
 to other cities to talk with people who advertised 
 what seemed available chances. On his return from 
 one of these he found at his house no less a person 
 than Mr. Darius Yates ; and what was worse, he 
 found him talking with his wife, whose eyes were 
 red with weeping, and who showed much agitation 
 when her husband entered. 
 
 It turned out that Yates, being in the country on 
 other business, had come to say that his money 
 would now be welcome, as he had been making in- 
 vestments which called for all the cash he could 
 raise. It was this announcement, made in a mo- 
 ment of thoughtlessness to Mrs. Gray, that had 
 caused her outburst of grief. 
 
 " You've come at a poor time," said Gray, thinking 
 he might as well go on before his wife, now that she 
 had heard the worst. "We're all tied up. Things 
 have gone from bad to worse. Wait till I get pos- 
 session of my estate, and I'll pay you, with twenty 
 per cent, added, if you want it. But now, there's 
 noihing to be had, for you or any one." 
 
 Mr. Yates did not appear satisfied. 
 
 " I want the money," he said, doggedly. " Con- 
 sidering what it is for, I've waited long enough." 
 
 Pale with rage at the allusion, Gray threw open the 
 door that led to the front hall. 
 
 " Get out of here !" he said, threateningly. 
 
 The manner of the man in the presence of his wife 
 was more than he could bear. 
 
 "You are making a mistake," replied Yates, gut- 
 turally. " See that you don't regret it."
 
 206 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 With this sinister insinuation he departed, leaving 
 the husband and wife alone. 
 
 Gladys was sobbing again sobbing' in that low 
 key that indicates hopelessness. 
 
 " D n him !" said Gilbert. " I ought to have 
 
 kicked him down the steps !" 
 
 " Oh, no ! He only wanted his money. What do 
 you suppose he will do ?" 
 
 " I don't care what he does. He won't get three 
 thousand dollars out of me till I have it !" 
 
 The wife looked up, all of a shiver. 
 
 " You must find it for him, Gilbert," she said, de* 
 spairingly. 
 
 "Find it? Where? Rolling up hill ?" 
 
 " You must get it. He is capable of anything. 
 We can't have our our secret get out now, when 
 we have lost all else. The world thinks me an hon> 
 est woman. If I am to die, let them think so when I 
 am lowered into my grave !" 
 
 He wanted the bill settled as much as she, but he 
 asked again, how was it to be done ? 
 
 "There is my last jewel," she said, taking a dia- 
 mond from her finger. " Yes, I did not tell you, I 
 sold all the rest to pay the butcher and grocer. It is 
 worth five hundred dollars. Sell it, sell the pictures, 
 the furniture, my dresses everything but pay 
 him !" 
 
 He made a mental inventory of the effects she 
 classed together, and decided that the total would 
 fall far short of the sum required. Things did not 
 sell for what they cost, he told her. The sacrifices 
 she was willing to make would be of no avail.
 
 PLUNGED INTO POVERTY. 207 
 
 " But he must be paid !" she kept repeating. " He 
 must be paid !" 
 
 That night Gray wrote to Mr. Dibbs, to see if he 
 would lend anything more on the insurance. The 
 reply stated that he could not, with justice to himself, 
 as the invalid, having lived so long since his attack, 
 might develop into one of those everlasting old men 
 who pass into the nineties. There was a vein of dis- 
 couragement in the letter that could not be sup- 
 pressed. At the same time the lawyer reminded Mr. 
 Gray, that there was a source from which he could 
 draw at any time not that he wished to excite his 
 anger again by mentioning it. If he would sign a 
 note payable whenever he came into the Blair estate, 
 he could have three thousand dollars, or ten thousand 
 dollars, as soon as the mail could take it to him. 
 
 All the mulishness in the young man's nature came 
 to the surface as he read this so often renewed propo- 
 sition. He would let Yates expose him to the whole 
 world he would see his wife starve to death before 
 he would touch that money till he knew it was right- 
 fully his. This he swore to himself, in round terms. 
 Probably he would have relented rather than have 
 had either of these dire contingencies come to pass, 
 had not another opportunity presented itself. 
 
 In one of his walks about town he came face to 
 face with Joseph Lancaster ! Lancaster, again in 
 Chicago ! 
 
 " Half a minute," said the man, as Gray tried to 
 pass him. " Don't cut me dead like that. I'm in a 
 position to be of use to you." 
 
 Stunned by the statement, Gray stood still in the 
 street.
 
 208 LOVE GOME ASTRAY. 
 
 " You're short of money. I'm flush with it," said 
 Lancaster, shortly. " I'd as lief lend to you as any 
 one. Can't we do a little business ?" 
 
 There was no time to wonder how this meteoric 
 personage had become again a lender of money. 
 There was no use in remembering that unpleasant 
 things had happened between them. He wus a 
 metaphorical straw, and Gray grasped at him. 
 
 " I want five thousand dollars," lie said, thinking 
 it best to get enough to tide him over a few weeks in 
 advance, if possible. 
 
 " On what security ?" 
 
 "On my unindorsed note. There's nothing else 
 to give just now, but it'll be paid. I want it for a 
 year." 
 
 Mr. Lancaster reflected. 
 
 " Pretty risky," he said, " but I'll go you. When 
 do you want it ?" 
 
 " When ?" echoed Gray. " I want it now." 
 
 " Now it is, then," said the newly reinstated 
 broker, "and as the only office I have is the curb- 
 stone, we'll step into a hotel and fix it there." 
 
 In twenty minutes the money was in Gray's hands, 
 and a note, witnessed by the hotel clerk, was in 
 Lancaster's. Without making further talk, the latter 
 excused himself, and disappeared as quietly as he 
 had come upon the scene. 
 
 It was more like a dream than a real transaction, 
 but the money was certainly there as tangible evi- 
 dence that the transaction had occurred. 
 
 Gray did not even go home until he had sought 
 Darius Yates and exchanged the sum due him for a 
 receipted bill.
 
 BLUNGED INTO POVEETT. 209 
 
 " WriU all demands in full to date,' " said Gilbert, 
 standing over him. " Now, let this be the last time 
 I ever hear from you, on any subject whatever," he 
 added, putting the receipt in his pocket. 
 
 The solicitor rose and put his hands coolly behind 
 him. 
 
 " Pooh .'* he answered, sneeringly. " You play a 
 very silly ^ame, considering the hand you hold." 
 
 " It is as good as yours !" was the hot rejoinder. 
 " If you have it in your power to annoy me, I have it 
 in mine to put you in jail !" 
 
 " That is a very foolish statement," said Mr. Yates, 
 "and nov. borne out by the least shred of fact. 1 
 don't do ny business in such a slipshod way. Now, 
 I'm not going to predict anything, my rash young 
 man, but watch and see how this comes out. You 
 have insulted me twice. I shall hardly allow you to 
 do it again." 
 
 There was so little to be gained by a discussion in 
 this strain that Gray said the solicitor could go to the 
 devil, so long as he kept out of his way, and with 
 this remark left the hotel and went home to show the 
 receipted bill to Gladys. 
 
 He did not tell her of whom he had borrowed the 
 money, or she might not have smiled quite so 
 brightly when she heard the news.
 
 210 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 MR. JULIUS MARGRAVE. 
 
 IT is an old proverb that when a ball is going 
 down hill every one is willing to give it a kick. 
 What was left of the Newcombe estate was now so 
 tied up that nothing could be got out of it. The 
 small sum that Mr. Gray had of Lancaster's loan, 
 after paying Yates' bill with interest, went rapidly. 
 It was impossible to keep up a decent standard of 
 Mving. The servants were dismissed, all but one, who 
 refused to go whether her wages was paid or not, so 
 attached was she to the family of her mistress. The 
 fires were reduced to that in the kitchen stove and 
 an open grate in one of the sitting-rooms. The hus- 
 band obtained work in a bank at a nominal salary 
 and suffered the pangs of death as he saw the state 
 to which Gladys and her old father were reduced. 
 There was but one hope. If they could live till the 
 end of Mr. Blair's five years and if the lost heir did 
 not turn up plenty would again shine upon them. 
 
 For Mrs. Gray these days were not wholly without 
 happiness. Whatever else had been lost to her, she 
 had still, the presence of her husband. She made not 
 the least complaint, but met him with a bright face 
 and put the best side of affairs before his weary eyes. 
 It would all end before long, she was sure of it. 
 In the meantime they had enough to eat, and the re- 
 ceiver appointed by the court assured them they 
 would not be ordered out of the house. It was a
 
 ME. JULIUS MABGBAVE. 211 
 
 dismal kind of comfort, but if this girl, brought up 
 in affluence, could bear it, Gilbert thought he ought 
 to try. 
 
 Colonel Newcombe still survived, with little ap- 
 parent change- in his condition. He asked the old 
 round of questions, and seemed contented with the 
 same answers. Baby Marianne was growing to be a 
 big child, and her health was perfect. She never 
 knew that there had been any trouble from the loss of 
 money. She played with her dolls, and ate her 
 bread and milk, singing till her voice echoed through 
 the lonely halls of the old house. 
 
 At the end of the year for which Joseph Lancas- 
 ter had loaned his five thousand dollars a year in 
 which that strange individual had neither been seen 
 nor head from he appeared at Mr. Gray's door and 
 inquired if it would be convenient to let him have the 
 amount. With all the reasons that Gilbert had for 
 disliking the man, he could not deny that he was this 
 time an honest creditor, and after hesitating a mo- 
 ment he asked him into the parlor and told him 
 frankly how things had gone. 
 
 "Well, that's not encouraging," was the response, 
 though Lancaster's manner was the reverse of down- 
 hearted. " The fact is, that cash would come in 
 mighty handy with me just now. I'm in one of my 
 occasional states of dead-broke-edness." He laughed 
 as he coined the word. " Pretty good house you're 
 living in," he added looking around him. 
 
 At this Gray felt constrained to explain the state 
 of affairs at some length. He told how the estate 
 was encumbered ; how even the furniture belonged 
 to the creditors of Colonel Newcombe, and had mora
 
 212 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 attachments on it than it would bring. He was 
 barely existing on the small salary he had been per- 
 mitted to earn. 
 
 " I say !" cried Lancaster, interrupting him. " That 
 sounds pretty tough. But look at me : With a ma- 
 tured note for five thousand dollars and a year's in- 
 terest in my pocket, I actually haven't enough ready 
 cash to buy a place to sleep in to-night. You think 
 me a hard customer, don't you ? Well, in some ways 
 perhaps I am. I know what you've seen of me 
 hasn't been in my favor. I acted queer about that 
 money you let me have in Venice, I'm not going to 
 deny it ; but I had a lot of things on my mind. And 
 when you came up to me that first time in Hyde 
 Park I was in a deuce of a state between the horns 
 of a dilemma, as they say, and I couldn't have 
 treated the Prince of Wales decent. Then there was 
 the matter of the horses, but I swear to you that was 
 accidental. I thought you would get out of the wa> 
 before I reached you. And at Amsterdam I suppose 
 you got the idea I meant to annoy you, but I didn't. 
 I only wanted that money, and I had to have it from 
 somewhere. I paid it to you again, didn't I, with a 
 handsome pile to boot, that went up in the water- 
 spout. And the last time I got a few shekels I 
 brought it back the next day, strictly according to 
 promise. Now comes this loan. When I let you 
 have it I was lined with the stuff ; and to-day it's either 
 to pawn my vest or sleep on the pavement, and the 
 nights are rather too chilly for that." 
 
 Mr. Lancaster laughed again, as if his situation 
 was the most amusing one of which he could co' 
 ceive.
 
 MR. JULIUS MABGBAVE. 213 
 
 "I can let you have a little," replied Gray with a 
 blush, as he drew out his slender purse. "And you 
 will get the whole of it if you wait a year or so 
 longer. Will will five dollars be of any use ?" he 
 asked, fiery red as he thought of the difference be- 
 tween that sum and the one he had borrowed. 
 
 " Five dollars !" exclaimed Lancaster. " Why, it's 
 a fortune. Could you make it ten ? Thank you, I 
 must be going," he added, as if haste was now the 
 most important thing. " I've just remembered a 
 pressing engagement that I came near missing." 
 
 Hardly stopping long enough to say good-evening, 
 the man was gone, and Mr. Gray saw him spring 
 jauntily upon a rapidly moving car going toward the 
 centre of the city. 
 
 In the morning, before Gilbert left the house, Lan- 
 caster was back again. He looked sleepless and 
 haggard, and was prepared with a rambling story to 
 the effect that he had been met by footpads and re- 
 lieved of the sum Mr. Gray was so kind as to lend 
 him. He was very tired and wanted above all things 
 a chance to rest. In that big house was there not 
 some room, no matter how high up or how poorly 
 furnished, that he could occupy till noon ? 
 
 Shrinking at first from the suggestion, Gray came 
 at last to agree to it. One reason was that he had 
 no time for a refusal, the bank being most particular 
 as to the moment its employe's arrived. He called 
 the servant and bade her show the gentleman to a 
 chamber on the second floor, at the same time whis- 
 pering that she must on no account let Mrs. Gray 
 know what she had done. Then he hastened away
 
 214 LOVE GONE ASTEAT. 
 
 to the scene of his labors, not at all pleased with the 
 situation. 
 
 But it came to pass that Joseph Lancaster secured 
 a regular tenancy of that chamber. Like the camel 
 of Arab fable, he put first his ears, then his head, and 
 finally his whole body into the tent. It remained to 
 be seen whether, in imitation of the ship of the desert, 
 he would kick the master out. 
 
 On the night of his arrival, Mr. Gray found that 
 the Englishman had not yet taken his departure. 
 He had been out part of the afternoon, the servant 
 said, but had returned. While the family were at 
 dinner he went out again, and did not come back 
 until Gray had gone to the bank the next morning. 
 The servant did not feel authorized to refuse him 
 entrance, in the absence of instructions, and he slept 
 away the second day on the bed he had previously 
 occupied. The third day was Sunday, and when he 
 came in, after spending the entire night out of the 
 house, Gray asked for an explanation. 
 
 This was made with tact. Business of great im- 
 portance had detained him, and he would be very 
 glad, if Gray did not object, to use the room for the 
 few days he intended to remain in the city. Every 
 moment he expected a telegram summoning him 
 away, and providing him with the necessary funds to 
 
 g- 
 
 At the end of a week he was still there, and hav- 
 ing now obtained a key from the servant, was quite 
 at home. As he used a side entrance which had been 
 closed for some time, he disturbed no one. The 
 spring days were rather chilly, and he sent in wood 
 and coal and built himself a fire. It would certainly
 
 MB. JULIUS MARGRAVE. 215 
 
 hare been ungracious to disturb a lodger who con- 
 ducted himself with such propriety, especially when 
 he was a creditor of the other occupant of the man- 
 sion to such a large extent. 
 
 But the week passed, and a month, and three 
 months, and still Lancaster did not go. His stories 
 varied from time to time, and yet hung together with 
 remarkable consistency. He had now money in his 
 pocket, for he insisted upon repaying the ten dollars 
 he had borrowed, and even offered to loan his bene- 
 factor a few hundred if he wanted it. He almost in- 
 sisted upon a price being put upon the rent of the 
 room, which he professed to like immensely, and 
 which he said he would not exchange for the best suite 
 in Potter Palmer's hotel. When this was refused he 
 said he should make a handsome allowance for it in 
 the interest on his note, whenever that was paid. 
 He still kept the most unseasonable hours, spending 
 a good part of each day in bed and most of his 
 nights abroad ; but as everything about him was 
 peculiar, this did not particularly astonish his new 
 landlord. 
 
 Sometimes he was gone for days, without giving 
 the slightest notice of his intentions. When he re- 
 turned it might be that his first act was to request 
 the loan of enough to purchase a breakfast ; or, on 
 the other hand, he came more than once with his 
 pockets loaded with wealth, certainly enough to flash 
 a great roll of bank bills in the face of the servant 
 who attended to his room, and to present that estima- 
 ble lady with not less than twenty dollars at a time. 
 When in this condition ne always managed to meet 
 Mr. Gray and renew his proposals to pay rent, or to
 
 216 LOVE GONE A8TBA.Y. 
 
 lend him a thousand or so, whichever he preferred. 
 Gilbert declined all of these offers, however, and said 
 as little to his strange acquaintance as possible. 
 
 Gladys naturally learned that Lancaster was in the 
 house after awhile, and asked anxiously for an explan- 
 ation. She remembered his face, she said, and did 
 not like the memories it recalled. Gilbert told her 
 as much as he chose of what had passed, referring to 
 the money loaned by Godkin & Lancaster during the 
 great wheat deals, and not in any way to the more 
 recent transaction. While her father had had forty 
 thousand dollars out of this man and his partner, it 
 would not do to turn him out of doors, he said. And 
 she agreed to this, doubtfully but in silence, as she 
 agreed to everything her husband thought wisest. 
 
 Another year passed in much the same way. 
 Gray's nose was at the grindstone. His house was 
 supplied with nothing but the merest necessities. 
 And then two events happened that certainly should 
 not have come in conjunction. The bank decided to 
 economize by dispensing with his services ; that was 
 one thing. The other was that Mrs. Gray became a 
 mother for the second time. 
 
 There seems to be a fatality in nature that sends 
 children into this world in an exactly inverse ratio to 
 the preparations for receiving them. Let a laboring 
 man fall and break a limb, let his three oldest chil- 
 dren be taken down with scarlet fever, and his 
 mother-in-law sprain her right arm by slipping on the 
 ice and you may set it down without the least dan- 
 ger of error that his wife will be confined within ten 
 days. A prophet could have foretold that Mrs. Gray 
 would add one, or more, to the number of her family,
 
 HE. JTJUUS MARGRAVE. 217 
 
 as soon as he knew that the bank had discharged her 
 husband. 
 
 But, in his deep trouble, Gilbert welcomed the 
 little stranger with all his heart. At last he had a 
 child that was really his own ! And he said it with- 
 out any disloyalty to little Marianne, who still had 
 from him all a true father's care and love. There 
 was a difference, though, between the other child 
 and this tiny boy that he could not deny. Nature 
 cried out to him that the bone of his bone and 
 flesh of his flesh must hold a nearer place in his af- 
 fections than one who could not claim though she 
 might never know it that tender relation. 
 
 It costs money to be born in Chicago, in the 
 Nineteenth Century, as Gray soon found. There 
 were fifty things needed things that must be had if 
 the mother and infant were to live in comfort. A 
 list of them was made out and put into the hands of 
 the young father. He stared dt it, and turned white. 
 His purse could stand no such drain. 
 
 After a brief interview with Gladys, he came out 
 of her room with his soul on fire. Money he must 
 have, whatever way it was got. He took a pen and 
 wrote a telegram to Israel Dibbs : 
 
 " Send me at least a thousand dollars immediately, 
 and charge it to my interest in the Blair estate ac- 
 cording to your former proposals. I cannot do with- 
 out it" 
 
 He had given his conscience the severest wrench it 
 had ever received, but the occasion called too loudly 
 to be refused. He sent for this money exactly as he
 
 218 LOVE GONE ASTEAT. 
 
 would have broken the window of a baker if his dear 
 ones had actually been starving. He did not for a 
 moment try to persuade himself that it was right. 
 
 In two days a check arrived, with a letter from the 
 lawyer congratulating him on his accession of com- 
 mon sense. There were now but six months remain- 
 ing of the five years, he said, and the appearance of 
 Julius Margrave was practically impossile. He 
 hoped Gray would send for all he needed, and take 
 what comfort he could during the interim. 
 
 The letter was read with a set face, and thrown 
 into the grate. The check was the main thing. 
 Gilbert could have kissed it, as he realized what it 
 meant to Gladys and the boy. 
 
 Lancaster met him about that time, and said a few 
 hundred was at his service, whenever he liked. He 
 referred to the advent of the new baby, and said he 
 had heard such things were very expensive. The 
 offer was refused, now that another source had been 
 found, though it would otherwise have been 
 accepted, without doubt. And it did not surprise 
 the husband to have this man send him a note, a 
 week later, saying that fifty dollars would be of the 
 utmost value to him ; a sum, let it be recorded, that 
 was sent to his room without an instant's delay. 
 
 Having broken the ice, Gilbert did not care how 
 deeply he waded in the stream. As Gladys recovered 
 he spent his money with a lavish hand, sending to 
 Dibbs again and again for checks which were for- 
 warded as fast as called for. He re-engaged the old 
 number of servants ; spread the table bountifully 
 as of yore, opened the whole house, with the 
 exception of the part that Lancaster to Gray's re-
 
 MR. JULIUS MARGRAVE. 219 
 
 gret continued to occupy. Every dey a pair of 
 horses and a liveried coachman from a stable came 
 to take the mother and child to drive. The neigh- 
 bors saw with wonder that a new mine had been 
 tapped and that the family was coming out in re- 
 markable form after its years of retirement. 
 
 A feeling of exultation filled the breast of the 
 young man as these changes took place. He forgot 
 the fault of which he had been guilty, and saw only 
 the bright countenance of his happy wife as she re- 
 sumed the life to which she had been accustomed. 
 He thought what a fool he had been to wait so long 
 for a phantom that had no existence. His fortune 
 was coming to him so soon, now, and he might have 
 enjoyed its benefits just as well as to take that 
 awful dip into pauperdom. 
 
 A sight of Mr. Darius Yates in the streets of Chi- 
 cago was the first thing that disturbed his new se- 
 renity. He wondered what the solicitor could be do- 
 ing again in that part of the world. Mr. Yates did 
 not see Gray, or if he did, gave no sign of the fact. 
 It was quite as well. They could not meet with 
 mutual goodwill, and it was best they escaped a col- 
 lision. Yates had been nasty in relation to that bill 
 cf his. Gray wanted to forget that such an individ- 
 ual existed. 
 
 But a few evenings later there came a greater 
 shock. As Gray was sitting in his library, the butler 
 announced himself with an envelope in his hand. 
 
 " A messenger is at the door, sir," he said. " who 
 insists that this gentleman lives here. I've told him 
 repeatedly that he is mistaken, but he says he has 
 seen him come in of ten and that lie knows him well."
 
 220 LOVE GONE A6TEAT. 
 
 Gilbert Gray took the envelope in his hand and he 
 thought the very blood had frozen in his veins when 
 he read the name thereorv ; 
 
 MR. JULIUS MARGRAVE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 " IS THIS THE LETTER ?* 
 
 *I TOLD him," repeated the butler, as Gilbert re- 
 mained silent, " that there was no such person here, 
 but he insists that he has seen him enter the house 
 many times. He says he knows him perfectly." 
 
 The man who lies down to pleasant dreams in a 
 jungle and awakes to see the gleaming eyes of a tiger, 
 feels as Gilbert Gray felt at that moment. The beast 
 he had thought dead was upon him. One spring and 
 all would be over. 
 
 " Tell the messenger I wish to see him," he said, 
 in a hard voice. " Show him into this room, and 
 when you have done so, leave us." 
 
 The butler, who had been but a short time in Mr. 
 Gray's employ, strode on his errand with no good 
 grace. He thought it an imputation upon himself to 
 receive a man after he (the butler) had practically 
 dismissed him. 
 
 The person who brought the letter for Mr. 
 Margrave seemed a very ordinary sort. He was 
 evidently unused to th* interior of houses of this
 
 *I8 THIS THE LETTER?" 221 
 
 description, for he stared at the furniture and ceiling 
 with undisguised interest and astonishment. He had 
 to be asked the first question twice before he re- 
 covered enough to answer. 
 
 "Who gave you this letter?" said Gray, icily. 
 
 "A friend of Mr. Margrave's, sir ; nobody you'd 
 know. He's sent me to him before, sir, but I've al- 
 ways met him in the street when he was coming out, 
 sir." 
 
 Gilbert hesitated. 
 
 " Describe Mr. Margrave to me," he said, presently. 
 
 At this the man hemmed a good deal, and after 
 declaring over and over that he " couldn't give no 
 description," proceeded to draw a word picture that 
 was easily recognizable as that of Mr. Joseph Lan- 
 caster. Not expecting anything else, Gray showed 
 no surprise. 
 
 " Who told you who first told you his name ?" he 
 asked next. " Be careful now and mind what you're 
 about." 
 
 " Why," said the man, shifting his weight from one 
 foot to the other, " I don't know who told me. He's 
 been around here for a year or more, I should think, 
 and I never heard him called anything but Margrave. 
 I don't know nothing about him," the fellow broke 
 forth, desperately. " I ain't no private detective, to 
 get onto people's business. I waited in the street for 
 more'n an hour, and then I thought there wouldn't 
 be no harm in ringing for him. If you are the man 
 what keeps this lodgin'-house, you know him, sir, as 
 well as me, and if you'll kindly call him you'll oblige 
 me very much." 
 
 Gray winced under the imputation that the New-
 
 222 LOVE GOXK ASTUAY. 
 
 combe residence was a lodging-house, but he believed 
 the man honest in what he said. 
 
 " There is no such person here," he answered. " I 
 shall therefore keep this letter till Mr. Margrave calls 
 for it. If you meet him, say that Mr. Gray will give 
 it to him on application. Oh, it will be quite safe," 
 he added, as the man started to open his mouth. 
 " You needn't worry about it at all." 
 
 He rose, to indicate that the interview was ended, 
 but the messenger lingered. 
 
 " I don't see why you say he don't live here," he 
 protested. 
 
 " It is not necessary that you should see anything," 
 said Gray. He rang a bell. "Show this 'gentle- 
 man ' out," he said to the butler, who brightened at 
 the order. " And if any one else calls to see me, let 
 me know at once." 
 
 Left alone he sank into his chair, dizzily. Lan- 
 caster and Margrave ! Had he been entertaining 
 under his roof all this time the heir of whose exist- 
 ence he dreaded to hear? 
 
 If it was proven that they were the same person, 
 there was but one thing to to done the honest thing. 
 Nothing else. 
 
 Cost what it might, entail whatever sacrifices it 
 would, the rightful claimant to Mr. Blair's estate 
 should have it. Gray had done things that lowered 
 him in his own sight, but he had never swindled any 
 one intentionally out of a penny. He would not be- 
 gin now. Starvation might come to him and his, he 
 could not tell, there was nothing else in prospect. 
 But in this plain matter of duty he would not shrink. 
 
 " Mr. Lancaster to see you, sir."
 
 "IS THIS THB LETTEB?" 223 
 
 It was the butler returning. 
 
 " Ask him to come in here," said Gray, in distinct 
 tones. The emergency found him ready. 
 
 Neiling, Lancaster, Margrave whatever his name 
 was paused at the library door, in evident pertur- 
 bation. His eyes wandered anxiously over the desks 
 and tables, in search of something. 
 
 " I heard there was a letter sent here for for a 
 friend of mine," he stammered, acting as if he wanted 
 to get away. 
 
 " Come in," said Mr. Gray, " and sit down, I 
 want to talk to you." 
 
 The other stood doubtfully for a moment at the 
 threshold, and started to say that he had no time to 
 spare, but finally entered and took a seat on the edge 
 of the nearest sofa, not at all at his ease, appar- 
 ently. 
 
 " Is this the letter ?" asked Gray, holding it up so 
 that the superscription could be read. 
 
 It struck him strangely that he was calmer than 
 his companion. 
 
 " Yes, that's it," said the other man, reaching out 
 his hand. 
 
 " A minute. This letter was left here for a Mr. 
 Margrave, to be delivered to him, and to no one 
 else." 
 
 The other man laughed, oddly. 
 
 " It's the same thing, giving it to me," he said. 
 " We're friends, partners, in fact. The letter is for 
 either one of us. You see," he explained, brighten- 
 ing as he went along, " I take Margrave's letters and 
 he takes mine."
 
 224 LOVE GONE A8TBAT. 
 
 Again the hand was held out, but the letter re- 
 mained in Mr. Gray's possession. 
 
 " The man this letter is intended for rooms in this 
 house," he said, impressively. " The messenger in- 
 formed me he had seen him enter and leave here 
 often. Do you know any Mr. Margrave who lives 
 here ?" 
 
 "That fellow is a dunce," was the quick reply. 
 " He's got us mixed up with each other. He prob- 
 ably thinks I'm Margrave, and " he paused to 
 make the story complete "that Margrave is me." 
 
 " I do not wonder^ for according to his description 
 you might be twin brothers," said Gray, with a touch 
 of sarcasm. "But a letter is an important matter, 
 and I do not feel justified in giving this to any per- 
 son but the one whose name is on the envelope. I 
 might get myself into trouble. If you will see Mr. 
 Margrave, and ask him to call, he can have it at once. 
 I shall deliver it to no other person." 
 
 Lancaster began to grow angry, as this course was 
 persisted in. He declared again that the letter was 
 intended for himself, that he knew what it was and 
 wanted it immediately. And he looked as if he in- 
 tended to have it, too, before he left the house. 
 
 "I want to see Mr. Margrave for another and very 
 pressing reason," said Gray, in reply. " Perhaps you 
 can tell me some things in relation to him, as you 
 know him so well. Was his father's name also 
 Julius ? Was his mother's name, before she was 
 married, Cynthia Blair? Was " 
 
 But Lancaster had risen to his feet, and stood 
 Staring at the speaker. 
 
 " How did^yw know all that ?" he exclaimed.
 
 " IS THIS THE LETTER ?" 225 
 
 " How did you know it, rather ?" was the reply. 
 - Why not tell me the truth ? You were first known 
 to me as ' William Neiling,' which you admitted to 
 be a nom de gucrrt. Next you called yourself ' Joseph 
 Lancaster,' another pseudonym, I have no doubt. 
 Why not admit, without further prevarication, that 
 you are Julius Margrave ?" 
 
 The other man sat down again and studied the face 
 before him intently. 
 
 "Well, I am Julius Margrave," he said, at last. 
 "There are no witnesses to the admission, and if it 
 pleases me I shall deny that I made it the next time 
 I am asked. I am Julius Margrave, my father bore 
 the same name, and my mother was Cynthia Blair, an, 
 American lady. What then ?" 
 
 Gray grew paler when his fears were thus sub- 
 stantiated. He took a case from his pocket and 
 drew forth one of the advertisements that had been 
 inserted in the newspapers for nearly five years, reg- 
 ularly every quarter. 
 
 "Only this," he said, handing it to his companion, 
 who read it slowly, out loud : 
 
 INFORMATION WANTED Of Julius Margrave, son 
 of Julius and Cynthia (ns Blair) Margrave, born at New 
 York, in the year 18 , but afterwards emigrating to foreign 
 parts. Address ISRAEL DIBBS, ESQ., No. Broadway, 
 New York. 
 
 " What does that mean ?" he asked, looking up 
 suspiciously. 
 
 " It means," said Gray, his lips twitching, " that 
 you are the heir of two hundred thousand dollars*, 
 left to you by Abel Blair, your mother's brother."
 
 226 LOVE GONE A8TKAY. 
 
 " The devil !" was the quick reply. " And at this 
 minute I haven't the price of a ticket to New York 
 in my clothes. Abel Blair, my ' Uncle Abel/ eh ? 
 Well, this is a startler ! I never heard anything so 
 strange in my life." 
 
 Then Gilbert told him the terms of the will, exactly 
 as they are known to the reader, being interrupted 
 frequently by exclamations. 
 
 " And if I hadn't been heard of for three months 
 more, you'd have had everything !" cried Margrave, 
 when the story was finished. " By Jove, you are a 
 white one ! Well, don't fret, I'll make it right. 
 That note I've got of yours for five thousand dollars 
 shall be handed back the minute I get possession. 
 Two hundred thousand that's forty thousand 
 pounds, isn't it ? Well, I should think that would 
 last me for a month or two, with due economy !" 
 
 The laugh that Gilbert had heard in former days 
 issued again from Margrave's lips as he contemplated 
 the prospect. 
 
 " You've been falling into better luck, too," said 
 the man, when he recovered his equanimity. " I've 
 noticed that things seemed brighter with you 
 lately." 
 
 " Yes," was the doleful reply, " with money bor- 
 rowed from the executor of Mr. Blair's will, on 
 account of my expectations." 
 
 And he proceeded to tell the story, showing that 
 Mr. Dibbs had advanced him something like four 
 thousand dollars, which he would now never be able 
 to repay. 
 
 Margrave thought this was, on the whole, the 
 funniest thing he had ever heard, and laughed over
 
 "IS THIS THE LETTER ?" 227 
 
 it till the tears came into his eyes. The joke on tho 
 old lawyer was simply, he remarked, a " corker. ' : 
 He was only sorry that Gray had not borrowed 
 twice as much, for he might just as well have had it 
 as not. When he saw that his hilarity was not 
 appreciated he sobered down, and took the address 
 of Mr. Dibbs, with the statement that he would put 
 himself in communication with him that very day. 
 
 "I don't suppose you appreciate the spirits thig 
 story has put me into," said Margrave when he was 
 about to leave, " considering it knocks you out of the 
 precise amount it gives me. But if you'd had my 
 experiences you'd have got used to anything. You've 
 seen me flush, and you've seen me broke, and you 
 know I never whimpered. That's the only way to 
 take things. There's silver linings to all the clouds, 
 and to-morrow's better than to-day ever dared be. 
 Your luck is off at the moment, but no one knows 
 what's just around the corner. You may light on 
 your feet yet." 
 
 Gray replied soberly that it was a very different 
 thing, being penniless with a family and without one. 
 A strange look came into the face of Margrave as 
 this thought was uttered, and he answered that this 
 did put a different face on the matter. However, he 
 added, he wasn't quite the rascal he might be taken 
 for, and he would not forget the man to whose hon- 
 esty he would owe his fortune. 
 
 " I'll give you a lift, somehow, Gray," he said, with 
 unusual freedom of manner, "if it's only on account 
 of those helpless ones who've got to look to you for 
 their support. If I don't do the right thing, call me 
 a duffer."
 
 228 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 He was so anxious to be gone that he almost for= 
 got to take the letter which had been the cause of his 
 coming into the house. When it was handed to him, 
 however, he opened it where he stood, and uttered 
 an astonished exclamation as he perused its con- 
 tents. 
 
 The worst thing now before the young husband 
 was to reveal the extent of his ill fortune to his wife. 
 He felt a doubt whether she would approve of the 
 course he had taken, when he might have kept back 
 the knowledge and retained the money they so much 
 needed. But Gladys surprised him by saying that 
 he had done exactly right, and that in spite of the 
 disagreeable consequences that must ensue, she 
 thoroughly approved of his conduct. 
 
 "I could never have respected you had you done 
 otherwise," she said, kissing his sad face. " We have 
 been in hard straits, but, thank God ! we have not 
 stooped to dishonesty, and we never must What- 
 ever happens, I can look into my husband's eyes and 
 feel proud of his noble life. What would I give if 
 he could look back with equal pride on mine !" 
 
 It distressed him terribly to have her speak like 
 this, and with his arms clasped about her he reiter- 
 ated the declaration of his entire love and confidence. 
 But for the things which she regretted, he reminded 
 her, they might never have met, and certainly were 
 unlikely to have married. And she lay against his 
 breast, breathing deeply, happier in his caresses than 
 any queen. 
 
 What they would do to provide for the helpless 
 father and little ones neither could tell, but it was
 
 ** IS THIS THE LETTER ?" 229 
 
 something to know that the perfect union of their 
 hearts and lives did not depend on poverty or riches, 
 
 Israel Dibbs made his appearance within- a week. 
 He would have come sooner, but for a case he was 
 trying, which he had to finish. He was driven 
 directly to Gray's residence, the moment he reached 
 Chicago, and sat down to hear hie detailed story with 
 a very interested face. 
 
 " Well, it looks all right, so far," was the comment 
 which he made when Gilbert finished. " But this 
 man will have to prove his case before he gets any- 
 thing out of me. It's well enough to go around the 
 world bearing all the names one pleases, but when 
 it comes to taking possession of two hundred thou- 
 sand dollars, he's got to do something besides talk." 
 
 Gilbert smiled faintly. 
 
 " I feared it would be that way," said he. " I 
 thought if you lent me money you would never 
 believe I had lost the chance to repay it. That is 
 why I refused it so long." 
 
 The old gentleman sat upright in his chair. 
 
 " That ain't fair," he answered, sharply. " If this 
 estate belongs to that fellow he'll get it, every penny, 
 no matter how I come out. If it don't, he won't. 
 The money I've lent you don't influence me a par- 
 ticle. But, I tell you again, he's got to prove his 
 identity. This Margrave family hasn't been heard 
 of till now for a pretty long time. The mother died 
 soon after the boy was born, and the father, who 
 was of a roving disposition, went off somewhere and 
 stayed out of the country, so far as Mr. Blair ever 
 knew. If this is a son of his, he's got to bring some- 
 thing to show it. I'll give him the property when
 
 230 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 he convinces me he's entitled to it, and not one 
 d d minute quicker !" 
 
 He seemed like the Scotchman who was willing to 
 be convinced, but would like to find the man who 
 Could convince him ; and Mr. Gray still feit that he 
 was not in the right mood to do justice to the new 
 claimant. 
 
 " There's another matter, though, of more import- 
 ance," pursued Mr. Dibbs. " While this doubt re- 
 mains I can't let you have anything, either. That 
 wouldn't be business-like, would it ? What you've 
 had is gone, if this thing turns against you. By- 
 the-way, the old Colonel still holds out, I see. I'm 
 going to get stuck on that, too, if he lives much 
 longer, with the premiums I have to pay and the 
 interest that's creeping up. It's awful queer. He 
 must have a constitution like a like a rhinocerous." 
 
 To this Mr. Gray made answer that Colonel New- 
 combe had changed little during the past year, and 
 yet that he feared he was slowly fading away. 
 
 "Fear!" echoed the lawyer. "I don't see why 
 you should be sorry. He's past all enjoyment of 
 life, and he might think of others who've banked on 
 him." 
 
 " He is my wife's father," replied Gilbert, impres- 
 sively. 
 
 " Yes, I suppose he is," admitted Dibbs. " And 
 she wouldn't want him to die, if he hadn't an ounce 
 of brain left nor a leg to stand on. If he was my 
 father, and and there was forty thousand insurance 
 on him I wouldn't care to see him in that fright- 
 ful condition any longer than I could help. I should
 
 A FAIR PROPOSITION. 231 
 
 ask the the good Lord to take him home among 
 among the angels." 
 
 And evidently feeling that there was a piety in the 
 remark that took it out of the commonplace, Mr. 
 Dibbs returned to the other subject. 
 
 "This Margrave," he said, "what does he look 
 like, as near as you can describe him ?" 
 
 " Mr. Lancaster," interrupted the butler, opening 
 the door. 
 
 " Tell him to come right in," replied Gray. " Now 
 you can see for yourself," he added, rising. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 A FAIR PROPOSITION. 
 
 WHEN informed that the gentleman closeted with 
 Mr. Gray was none other than the executor of Abel 
 Blair, Mr. Margrave expressed the greatest pleasure 
 at meeting him. A pleasure, be it said, that the 
 lawyer did not seem to wholly share. Proceeding 
 to business without the least delay, Mr. Dibbs put 
 the claimant through a most searching examination. 
 He made him recount all the particulars of his life, 
 from his earliest recollections and even, using what 
 he had been told, from a point anterior to them. 
 And Mr. Dibbs had to admit that the man stood the 
 ordeal remarkably well, and that there was no appar- 
 ent flaw in his statements. 
 
 The first thing he remembered, he said, was living
 
 232 LOVE GONK ASTRAY. 
 
 in the town of Salisbury, New South Wales, with his 
 father and a slightly older brother, their wants be- 
 ing attended to by a servant who acted as cook and 
 housekeeper combined. The brother was a son of his 
 father by a previous marriage, and was named Jonas. 
 The father, who was of a roving disposition, came 
 and went as he pleased, sometimes being absent from 
 home for months at a time. The boys went to the 
 schools of the place, and when, at the age of seven- 
 teen or eighteen, they were left entire orphans, they 
 took what little money was theirs and went to Eng- 
 land. Here Julius got employment in the office of a 
 solicitor, and Jonas worked at various callings until 
 a year or two later, when he disappeared, and had 
 never been seen since. 
 
 At the mention of the word "solicitor," Mr. Dibbs 
 began to question Margrave as to his knowledge of 
 law, but he explained his lack of it by saying that he 
 had been kept at copying and that sort of thing ; 
 and when at last he rebelled, and demanded a better 
 opportunity to learn something of value, he was given 
 his discharge, and had never set foot afterwards in 
 an establishment of the kind. From that time he 
 had travelled from place to place, perhaps at times 
 engaging in things not entirely to his credit, as he sai/ 
 he might as well admit, without going into particular 
 It was not necessary to give a detailed account of 
 every act of his more recent life, in order to prove 
 that he was the rightful heir to Mr. Blair's property, 
 as the son of that gentleman's sister Cynthia. 
 
 "I will show you, as soon as it arrives," he added, 
 "a certificate of my father's death and of my gradu- 
 ation from the elementary schools of Salisbury, for
 
 A FAIR PEOPO6ITIOK. 238 
 
 which I have sent to New South Wales. I have for- 
 warded a photograph of myself, and asked a judge 
 of the town, who remembers me well, to certify that 
 it represents my features. There is also a witness 
 here in Chicago whom you may wish to see, the so- 
 licitor for whom I worked in London." 
 
 Gilbert Gray half rose from his chair, and his eyes 
 opened wide. 
 
 " The solicitor," he said, nervously, " is named 
 Darius Yates ?" 
 
 "Well," was the answer, "I will make it simpler 
 by admitting that at once. Mr. Gray is surprised 
 that Mr. Yates, whom he knows and who has spoken 
 to him about me, apparently, never mentioned that 
 I had been a clerk in his office. Mr. Yates' reasons 
 are entirely foreign to this inquiry. He will not give 
 them to you if you ask him ; but such evidence as 
 really affects my case I know he will give with pleas- 
 ure, for I have communicated with him very recently 
 on the subject." 
 
 An hour more of cross-questioning produced no 
 new effects. But when it was ended Mr. Dibbs an- 
 nounced that he should leave the whole matter to the 
 courts. 
 
 " I don't express the least opinion," he said, in a 
 jndicial way. " I have an important trust to fulfill. 
 If the judge says the money belongs to you, sir, I 
 will turn it over as ordered, to the last cent. If the 
 decision is against you, it goes to Mr. Gray. You 
 must see an attorney, put in your claim, and have it 
 adjudicated in the usual manner." 
 
 Before Margrave, whose face had darkened at this 
 proposition, could reply, Gilbert spoke :
 
 234 LOVE GONE ASTKAT. 
 
 " As far as I am concerned, Mr. Dibbs, you will 
 understand that I don't ask this. If Mr. Mr. Mar- 
 grave brings his depositions from New South Wales, 
 showing him to be the son of Mrs. Blair's sister, I 
 don't care to know any of the secrets he wishes 
 buried. Indeed, you will meet my desires best by 
 putting him to the least trouble possible." 
 
 " That is all very well," responded Mr. Dibbs, 
 " but it's not the best way for me, as a trustee. If I 
 give this estate to the wrong man I shall be person- 
 ally liable. I want a judge's decision to back me up. 
 No, I have decided that it must go to the court, and 
 nothing can make me change my mind." 
 
 In the few moments that elapsed, Margrave had 
 managed to pull himself together, and the cloud on 
 his brow gave way to one of the sunny smiles for 
 which he was at times noted. 
 
 "To the court let us go, then," he said, brightly. 
 "As I know nothing of American laws I can only 
 hope it won't take a hundred years to settle, as I 
 would like to use a little of the money before I die. 
 The meanest thing about it," he added, indicating 
 Gray with a motion of his hand, " is that in getting 
 what belongs to me I must displace so good a fellow 
 as this, and one, besides, who stands quite as much 
 in need of it." 
 
 This assertion affected Gilbert, who began to 
 think Dibbs a very stubborn old curmudgeon to put 
 the rightful heir to so much trouble over a point that 
 seemed absolutely valueless. It was very clear that 
 he (Gray) might as well give up all hopes, and he 
 saw no benefit to be derived from annoyances of the 
 kind contemplated He knew, however, that the
 
 A FAIR PROPOSITION. 235 
 
 statutes of the Medes and Persians were not more 
 unalterable than the mind of Israel Dibbs, and he 
 saw that worthy depart without adding another word 
 in criticism of his course. 
 
 As there seemed less reason than ever to ask Mar- 
 grave to vacate his room, he continued to live under 
 the Newcombe roof, if such it had now any right to 
 be called. In due time he brought to Gilbert a de- 
 position signed by several prominent citizens of New 
 South Wales, as well as by the photographer who 
 took it, that a picture annexed was t.ie portrait of 
 Julius Margrave, son of Julius and Cynthia Mar- 
 grave, deceased. Besides this he bore a deposition 
 from Darius Yates, that the said Julius had been in 
 his employ for nearly three years, and had during 
 that time been known by no other name, with more 
 matter to the same effect. These documents, after 
 being inspected by Mr. Gray, were placed in the 
 hands of an attorney, and all parties awaited the 
 calling of the case in the court to which it had been 
 assigned. 
 
 Mr. Dibbs was informed of the nature of the new 
 proofs, and in fact served with copies of them, but 
 his intention to fight the case was not in the least af- 
 fected thereby. He wrote to Gray that the affair 
 was out of his hands and that he would do nothing 
 more about it. But, during the summer that fol- 
 lowed, he did do something. At the joint request of 
 Julius Margrave and Gilbert Gray, over their wit- 
 nessed signatures, he released the Newcombe resi- 
 dence from the creditors of the Colonel, taking 
 Gladys' note and mortgage for the amount ad- 
 vanced. This he could safely do, whoever the Blair
 
 236 LOVE GONE A8TEAT. 
 
 property was going to, for the mortgage was a per* 
 fectly safe investment, and the proceeding enabled 
 the Grays, with the poor old man who was slowly 
 descending to the tomb, to remain a little longer in 
 their home. 
 
 Early in the autumn Colonel Newcombe succumbed 
 to a second shock and passed away without regain- 
 ing his mind in the least. He had, in effect, been 
 dead for three years already, but his daughter wept 
 for him as if her heart would break, and Gilbert, who 
 liked him immensely, contributed his share to the 
 mourning. Mr. Dibbs came to town as soon as the 
 funeral was over and proceeded to arrange the mat- 
 ter of life insurance, paying over the balance that 
 remained to Mrs. Gray, who accepted it dolefully and 
 handed it to her husband without a word. In their 
 present condition it was a godsend, for there were the 
 interest and taxes on the house to be met, as well as 
 other expenses that had been postponed as long as 
 possible. And Gilbert also ordered a stone for the 
 Colonel's grave that was perhaps extravagant, con- 
 sidering the dimness of the future. 
 
 The way the case dragged in the court the case of 
 Margrave vs. Dibbs did not surprise any one used 
 to the delays of the law, but the plaintiff expressed 
 his dissatisfaction in no gentle terms as time went on. 
 One day he came to Gray with a proposal. 
 
 " See here," he said, " this thing is getting unbear- 
 able ! My lawyer says Dibbs can fight me off for 
 three years more, if he likes, and I'm sure he will 
 take every minute allowed him. Now, I have an 
 idea, and I want to see what you think of it. I'd
 
 A FAHt PROPOSITION. 23? 
 
 rather take part of a loaf before I die of starvation 
 than a whole bakery after I'm dead and buried." 
 
 " What is your suggestion ?" asked Gilbert, curi- 
 ously. 
 
 " It's this, in brief : Supposing I withdraw all 
 claim to the property?'* 
 
 " What!" 
 
 " Wait a second. Of course that's not the whole of 
 it. Supposing I withdraw, get out, quit professing 
 to be myself and let you take the estate according to 
 my uncle's will. Dibbs wouldn't fight you. He'd 
 hand you over the whole thing, bag and baggage, the 
 next morning, wouldn't he ?" 
 
 Mr. Gray stared at the speaker with all his might. 
 
 " I think he would," said he, " but " 
 
 "Don't ' but * anything for another minute," re- 
 sponded Margrave. " Just fix your mind on my prop- 
 osition. If I should do that and if you would sign 
 an agreement to hand me over three-quarters of what 
 you got, I'd be better off, wouldn't I, than to hang 
 around here till I'm an octogenarian, waiting for the 
 courts to let me in ?" 
 
 The idea was so strange that it staggered Gray at 
 first. 
 
 " You'd get fifty thousand dollars," said Margrave, 
 trying to make it clearer. " I'd get the rest. Neither 
 of us could complain, and, by George ! I'll do it, if 
 you say so !" 
 
 Fifty thousand dollars ! It looked like a mountain 
 of gold to the young man. He could move to some 
 quiet home in the country and live with his dear 
 ones on the income of that amount. But, on the
 
 238 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 other hand, it looked dishonorable to take so great 
 an advantage of another's necessities. 
 
 " What do you say ?" cried Margrave. " Is it a bar- 
 gain ?" 
 
 " I I would do it at once," stammered Gray, " but 
 I don't think it would be fair to you. It would be 
 almost a kind of blackmail, to accept such a sum for 
 merely helping you to your rights." 
 
 " That's my lookout," smiled the other. " I'm sat- 
 isfied, and you ought to consider that sufficient. 
 You've got a wife and family, too ; you mustn't for- 
 get them." 
 
 Gray found himself leaning toward an acceptance 
 of the proposal, though he still thought the share to 
 be given him was disproportionate. Before they 
 separated he had agreed to the plan, and within a 
 week documents had been signed by which it could 
 be carried out. 
 
 The relief which Gilbert felt as he contemplated 
 the near approach of a competency for Gladys and 
 the children carried him almost to the skies of happi- 
 ness. He declared to himself that Margrave was 
 more than a gentleman, and took back a hundred 
 times a day all the ill-natured things he had ever said 
 or thought about him. 
 
 He dared not tell his wife of the comfortable future 
 that was dawning on the horizon, lest some slip 
 should dash the cup from their lips. He waited with 
 a fever of impatience till he could assure her beyond 
 a doubt that their days of actual penury were over. 
 
 Israel Dibbs came to Chicago and had a talk with 
 Gray when he was apprised of the new state of 
 affairs.
 
 A FAIK PROPOSITION. 239 
 
 "I thought he'd draw out, before he let it go to a 
 jury," he remarked, sarcastically. " How much did 
 you have to pay ? Of course you gave him some- 
 thing, and I think that was the safest way out of it, 
 but I hope it wasn't much." 
 
 "Still prejudiced by your own interests," replied 
 Gray, with a smile. " I told you he'd never seem an 
 honest man in your eyes while you had a personal 
 claim that got into the balance." 
 
 Mr. Dibbs pooh-poohed at this, declaring it had 
 nothing to do with the case. He said the latest ac- 
 tion of Lancaster he refused to call him Margrave, 
 had proved how little confidence he had in winning 
 a verdict. 
 
 " We'll have the whole thing settled now in a 
 month or two," he said, in conclusion. " And, my 
 word for it, you have escaped one of the prettiest 
 attempts at swindling that ever came under my 
 observation." 
 
 But Gray only laughed, knowing what a " set " 
 man Mr. Dibbs was, and congratulated himself anew 
 over the bargain he had made. 
 
 He went home and played with his two children 
 his, both of them, in love, at least. He kissed Gladys 
 so warmly that she wondered what had happened, 
 and looked at his beaming face under a momentary 
 apprehension that he had lost his wits. 
 
 With fifty thousand dollars and these loved ones, 
 he would forget he had ever expected to be richer. 
 
 Ah ! Who can be richer than the man with a wife 
 who adores him, and enough to keep her from the 
 icy blasts that sweep around this bleak world.
 
 240 LOVE GONE ASTBAT. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 " WOMEN ARE QUEER THINGS." 
 
 WlTH the difficulties out of the way, in the mattef 
 of Abel Blair's estate, one would have thought that 
 the only thing necessary to pass it over to Gilbert 
 Gray was the arrival of the date mentioned in the 
 will. But legal matters are notoriously slow in com- 
 ing to a head, and this one was no exception to the 
 rule. What made it matter less, however, was that 
 Mr. Dibbs had again opened his private purse and 
 was advancing as liberally as before to the legatee. 
 The money thus obtained, Gilbert divided pretty 
 equally with Margrave, who, however, fretted over 
 the length of time required to get the balance, and 
 declared every day that he was disgusted with the 
 judges and lawyers, from one end of the case to the 
 other. 
 
 Margrave, as the time of settlement grew nearer, 
 made various excursions to points out of the city, 
 sometimes being gone a fortnight at a stretch. He 
 finally gave up his room at the Grays. Where he 
 went Gilbert had no knowledge, and the matter had 
 little interest for him. He meant to keep his word 
 to the letter, and though he felt very grateful for 
 what he called Margrave's "generosity," he was 
 quite willing to be deprived of his companionship, 
 that had of late grown rather too intimate to be 
 wholly agreeable. 
 
 The only thing that annoyed Gray at this period,
 
 "WOMEN AKE QUEER THINGS.** 24:1 
 
 was the fact that Mr. Yates still remained in the 
 city and had been seen by him several times in the 
 street. He realized that the solicitor had no good 
 will toward him, and dreaded lest some move might 
 be made on his side of a disagreeable nature. But as 
 there was no law against a person's living in any part 
 of the world that pleased him, he did not see what he 
 could do about it, as long as he could trace no un- 
 pleasant consequences to the presence of this man. 
 
 The exact date that the five years elapsed from 
 the death of Mr. Blair, was February i^h. Fully a 
 month beyond that day passed, and Mr. Dibbs still 
 made excuses. Margrave, who never visited Gray 
 now, but wrote htm frequent letters, intimated his 
 belief that " the old cuss " had stolen part of the 
 funds and was liable to " skip to Canada " with the 
 balance, unless somebody had an eye on him. Of 
 course Gilbert laughed at this notion, for lie thought 
 he knew Mr. Dibbs better than that. And yet he 
 wondered as much as his new friend why such a long 
 time was necessary. 
 
 One morning the lawyer came to Chicago and 
 sought Mr. Gray at his residence. He had some- 
 thing of importance to communicate and asked his 
 host to make certain that they were not disturbed. 
 
 " I don't want anybody coming in just now," he 
 said, looking warily around the library, "especially 
 that man." 
 
 "What Margrave ?" cried Gilbert, good-naturedly, 
 after giving the necessary order. " I haven't set eyes 
 on him for seven or eight weeks." 
 
 " Haven't you ?" was the reply. " You don't mean 
 to say he's cleared out I"
 
 242 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 " No. I had a letter from him yesterday. Cleared 
 out ! He's in no mood for clearing out, from the 
 tenor of his note." 
 
 Mr. Dibbs hemmed softly and closed his eye- 
 lids slightly. 
 
 " Have you got that note here ?" he asked. 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " Will you let me see it ?" 
 
 Gilbert could not help laughing again. 
 
 "I'm afraid it wouldn't please you to read it in 
 full," he said, " but I'll show you the date and the 
 signature, if you want. You seem to doubt that he's 
 here still. There you are, 'Chicago, March 2ist,' 
 and at the bottom, * Believe me, as ever, Your Sincere 
 Friend, Julius Margrave.' What will you have 
 straighter than that ?" 
 
 The lawyer scanned the letter eagerly. 
 
 "Nothing," he said sharply. " If you will cut off 
 those lines for me or agree to keep them until they 
 are wanted I shall be satisfied." 
 
 " I'll keep them," smiled Gray. " I don't like to 
 mutilate the letters of my friends. I've had a good 
 many from him during the past few months, and I've 
 got them all." 
 
 At this the lawyer rubbed his hands softly 
 together. 
 
 " All right so far," he responded. " Now, for 
 another matter. In looking over the papers of 
 Colonel Newcombe that you gave me with the insur- 
 ance policies I have made one or two discoveries. 
 Shall I tell you what they are ?" 
 
 The lawyer's lips shut tightly together and his 
 eyes dilated strikingly. His manner had changed
 
 " WOMEN ABE QUEER THINGS." 243 
 
 so suddenly that the younger man did not know 
 what to think. 
 
 " Has it anything to do with with this affair ?" he 
 asked, beginning to tremble. 
 
 " Possibly. Mr. Gray, I am an attorney-at-law, 
 and a secret is as safe in my hands as if locked in 
 your own brain." 
 
 A secret ! There was but one secret that Gilbert 
 Gray cared about. Was it possible that one could 
 have been found in the bundle of papers. He could 
 not- endure the suspense, and he told Mr. Dibbs to 
 proceed. 
 
 " I was not looking for this secret, mind you !" 
 explained the lawer. " But I know the necessity of 
 examining every scrap of writing that a dead man 
 leaves before deciding that it is of no value. I was 
 examining those papers of Colonel Newcombe's 
 when I found the one to which I shall first refer 
 you." 
 
 Mr. Gray took the paper that was handed him, and 
 before he glanced at the page threw a searching 
 glance into the sharp eyes before him. Then he 
 read as follows : 
 
 " Enclosed you will find the complete confession of 
 young Margrave, whose name your daughter could not be 
 persuaded to give you. By this time he is well out of the 
 country and I am sure you will never be troubled by him 
 again. I advanced him sufficient for expenses, believing 
 that the wisest course, but he is thoroughly frightened and 
 only too anxious to get away. I am still confident that 
 the best move will be a marriage with Mr. Gray, if I can
 
 24:4: LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 bring htm to agree to It, and I think I can. Will try to see 
 you to-morrow. 
 
 " Yours, etc., 
 
 DARIUS YATES." 
 
 It was a very bitter draught that had to be 
 swallowed, and the young man thought it would 
 strangle him in its downward course. Bitter, 
 because it reopened the horrible chapter he had tried 
 so hard to close. Bitter, because his secret was 
 exposed to this man, whose contempt he could 
 already feel piercing through his vitals. Bitter 
 because because 
 
 He stopped and caught his breath. 
 
 Because Margrave had been for more than a 
 
 year under Gladys Gray's roof, and she had assisted 
 him in deceiving her husband by pretending they 
 had never met before ! 
 
 And if she was capable of that, of how much more 
 might she not be ! Margrave had been in the house 
 from morning till night, nearly all the time, while the 
 husband had been away at his work ! All that was 
 needed to make a perfect case was collusion on the 
 part of a servant, or the mere shutting of an eye. 
 And the domestic that cared for the lodger's room 
 would have cut off her hand for her young mistress. 
 
 Gray's face was a combination of yellow and chalk 
 as he faced Mr. Dibbs. But he was at first incap- 
 able of speech, and the other resumed : 
 
 "Then here is the letter to which the first one 
 refers. I don't ask what it means you can judge 
 that for yourself. But before you give any large
 
 ** WOMEN ABE QUEER THINGS." 245 
 
 slice of my friend Blair's money away you ought t 
 have all the facts in the case at your disposal." 
 
 Gilbert read the second letter and still he could 
 not utter a word. To speak would be to plead 
 guilty to a monstrous indictment. 
 
 *' I've got some important business to do, and I 
 must be going," remarked the lawyer, rising. " If 
 it's convenient I'll meet you again this afternoon. 
 I'll have a few other things to say that you'll think 
 strange, I guess. And now I've got one bit of 
 advice to give don't get excited. There's several 
 turns in the road yet, and maybe, if you start off too 
 rapid, you'll get on the wrong one." 
 
 It was half an hour before Gilbert felt able to meet 
 his wife, for he wanted to put the dreadful question 
 to her and have it over with. If she could clear her- 
 self no one would be more pleased than he. If she 
 could not, an immediate separation was the only 
 thing for them, and after that he would pay his re- 
 spects to the cause of his misery. 
 
 "Where is Mrs. Gray?" he asked ot the butler, 
 when he responded to his ring. 
 
 "She has gone out, sir." 
 
 " Out ! How long has she been out ?" 
 
 " Nearly all the morning, sir. It's the usual time 
 she takes her drive, sir." 
 
 " When she returns, let me know." 
 
 " I will, sir." 
 
 Her usual time. Yes, he remembered it, now it 
 was brought to his attention. And he was also sure 
 that the mornings out that had become so common 
 dated pretty nearly from the time when Julius Mar- 
 grave ceased to live at their house. What a deep
 
 246 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 game they had played on him, those two, and by 
 what a simple accident it had been discovered ! 
 
 When Mrs. Gray returned she came straight to the 
 library where her husband still awaited her. 
 
 "Do you wish to see me, Gilbert ?" she asked, 
 pleasantly. 
 
 "Yes," he said, sharply, rising to shut the door 
 that they might be alone. " / want you to tell me 
 WHO was the father of your first child?" 
 
 The question was so terrible so unexpected so 
 brutal, and the husband's manner so fierce, that Mrs. 
 Gray lost her power of speech. 
 
 " Come, no nonsense !" he persisted, roughly. 
 " Answer !" 
 
 " I must not tell you !" she stammered. " Oh, Gil- 
 bert, how can you put this shame on me after all the 
 years I have been your true and faithful wife ?" 
 
 A gush of tears followed the outburst, but they had 
 no effect on him whatever. 
 
 " You must not tell ' ?" he echoed. " Thank God, 
 I do not have to depend on your word ! ' True and 
 faithful ?' How do you reconcile that with the fact 
 that he has helped you to deceive a husband to 
 whom you were already a sufficient disgrace ?" 
 
 Too much agitated to reply, Gladys could only 
 continue to weep, but when he added that they must 
 part at once, and that he would never look her in the 
 face again, she uttered a wild cry. 
 
 " No, no ! You do not mean that ! I have done 
 nothing wrong not since that first, that awful time, 
 so many years ago ! If I have met this man, it was 
 for your sake, yes, for your sake, Gilbert ! It was 
 not for myself I would starve by your side if need
 
 " WOMEN ARE QUEER THINGS." 24:7 
 
 be it was always for you ! He told me he assured 
 me " 
 
 Violent sobs drowned the sentence, and when 
 Mrs. Gray looked up again she was alone. 
 
 Not daring to trust himself longer in her presence, 
 now that she had admitted so much, Mr. Gray had 
 hastened from the room. Snatching his hat from the 
 rack by the door he hurried into the street and 
 started rapidly on foot toward the city. He did not 
 know or care where he was going, he only wanted to 
 get away from her. 
 
 So Margrave's " generosity" was all on Gladys* 
 account ! And she had considered it the duty of a 
 " faithful " wife to wheedle money out of a paramour, 
 as long as she put it in a husband's hands ! 
 
 God Almighty, what a beast she must have thought 
 him ! 
 
 And still he felt with bitterness that he was to 
 blame for the estimate. He had given his name to 
 an abandoned creature, in exchange Tor pounds and 
 shillings. He had known that, before she should 
 have been out of boarding school, she had sur- 
 rendered the dearest possession of an honest girl to 
 some man beneath the consideration of her father 
 from a matrimonial point of view. She had bought 
 her husband for cash, and no doubt felt that he put 
 money above all other values. Rather than be re- 
 duced to penury of which she had seen quite 
 enough during her married life she had bargained 
 with Margrave for a quarter part of his patrimony, 
 and of course had paid the price. 
 
 If she had flown with her paramour, he could have 
 borne it better. But to share her caresses between
 
 24:8 LOVE GOKE ASTRJLT. 
 
 them, to pretend such virtue while carrying on her 
 Illicit relations, this was the farthest depth of vil- 
 lainy. 
 
 How long had her affair been going on ? Had it 
 ever wholly ceased ? Margrave was in London and 
 in Amsterdam when she was there. He had been in 
 Chicago, and under her roof a great deal of the time 
 since she returned to America. 
 
 They were too cunning for him. He gnashed his 
 teeth as the confirmatory evidence began to range 
 itself in line. 
 
 Walking on and on, Gray came to Washington 
 street in its busiest portion, and had nearly run over 
 Israel Dibbs before that gentleman could stop him. 
 
 " What's up ?" cried the lawyer. " You look like 
 a crazy man !" 
 
 And, indeed, he did. He could not answer the 
 question in words, and putting an arm through one 
 of his, Dibbs drew him into a building near by, and 
 into the private office of a friend, where he made him 
 sit down. 
 
 " I thought, after I left to-day," said Dibbs, " that 
 I had done wrong in not making some things a little 
 clearer. It occurred to me that you might stumble 
 on a wrong scent and do something rash, notwith- 
 standing the last bit of advice I gave you. I had an 
 engagement to keep, and as soon as it was over I 
 went out to your house in a carriage, arriving too 
 late to find you in. What has happened to make you 
 look like an escaped lunatic ?" 
 
 Finding that Gray was still unable to speak, the 
 lawyer helped him. 
 
 " You've been having words with your wife ?"
 
 "WOMEN ARE QUEER THINGS.* 249 
 
 The answer was written on the countenance of the 
 man questioned. 
 
 "And you've been accusing her of something 
 recent," said Dibbs, slowly, " in connection with that 
 man Margrave ?" 
 
 There was no denial of this charge. 
 
 " Then let me tell you," pursued Dibbs, " that you 
 are wholly wrong, and that the best thing you can 
 do is to banish your suspicions at once from your 
 mind." 
 
 Thre"e times did Gilbert Gray open his mouth be- 
 fore he could utter an articulate sound. His lips 
 were dry, and his tongue thick. 
 
 " She has confessed. It is all over," he muttered, 
 at last. 
 
 " Confessed what ?" 
 
 " Everything." 
 
 " The devil !" said Dibbs. 
 
 Mr. Gray nodded. He did not like to talk about 
 it any more than he could help, but he saw that this 
 man would have to know, and that there never 
 would be a better time than the present to tell him. 
 
 " Women are queer things !" was the lawyer's next 
 statement. " Topsy isn't the only one that has been 
 taken with such a desire to ' confess ' that she's had 
 to make up lies to do it. You've not forgot the 
 Beecher scandal. The woman in that case used to 
 make a new confession, in writing too, as often as 
 any one asked her, and she never committed the al- 
 leged offense once, if I'm any judge of evidence. If 
 your wife has admitted recent wrong-doing with 
 Margrave, she's a proper subject for a physician's 
 care. For I know all about this business as you
 
 250 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 will in a shert time if you keep your wits about you 
 and nothing of the sort has occurred !" 
 
 It seemed a very flimsy straw this mere assertion 
 of the lawyer's against the direct admissions of Mrs. 
 Gray, but Gilbert caught at it with the frantic clutch 
 of the man who is drowning. 
 
 " If you can prove that," he said, in a hoarse whis- 
 per, " you will make me the happiest man on earth !" 
 
 "Then prepare to enter that blissful state," smiled 
 Dibbs, "for I take my oath that is exactly what I in- 
 tend to do. But you will have to meet Margrave, and 
 it will be necessary that you conceal in his presence 
 the suspicions you have formed in regard to him." 
 
 At the repeated use of that name, Gilbert colored. 
 
 " Have you gone so far as to acknowledge your 
 mistake ?" he asked. " Thrice in the last three min- 
 utes you have called him 'Margrave.' Are you will- 
 ing to admit that that is his name ?" 
 
 There was a wise look on the lawyer's wrinkled 
 countenance. 
 
 "Yes," he answered, slowly, " I am obliged to ad- 
 mit it now." 
 
 " Then you have been mistaken all along." 
 
 Mr. Dibbs shook his head. 
 
 " His name ts Margrave, and I have not been mis- 
 taken," he repeated. " For that riddle a long ex- 
 planation is necessary, and I think should be given 
 by Mr. Margrave in person. Perhaps," he paused 
 and consulted his watch, " perhaps it will be best to 
 send for him now, as things have taken such a turn, 
 and have it over with." 
 
 Gray stared at his companion. 
 
 " Then you know where he is ?" he asked.
 
 " WOMEN ABE QUEER THUTOS." 261 
 
 " Precisely. He is in jail." 
 
 " On what charge ?" 
 
 " Attempting to swindle Gilbert Gray out of more 
 than two hundred thousand dollars." 
 
 Gilbert felt his brain growing light. First Dibbs 
 had promised to save his wife to him, and now he 
 talked of recovering his lost fortune ! It surely was 
 a dream. It could not be reality. 
 
 " I am going to send for Margrave at once," con- 
 tinued. Dibbs, "and have you listen to his story right 
 where you are. It is not safe to let you go out of 
 here with only a partial knowledge of the truth. In 
 more than one case, ' a little learning is a dangerous 
 thing.' Will you promise not to allude to anything 
 in connection with your wife, while that man is in 
 your presence ? Because, without that promise, there 
 is no use in bringing him." 
 
 After a moment's reflection, Gilbert agreed to the 
 proposition, and the lawyer dispatched several notes 
 by various messenger boys who responded to his 
 call. 
 
 The first response was from a stenographer, who 
 was to take a verbatim report of the conversation it 
 was expected would ensue. And shortly afterwards 
 two sheriffs appeared, leading a prisoner between 
 them.
 
 252 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 A CROSS-EXAMINATION. 
 
 EXCEPT on the stage no man whose hands are 
 manacled, and who is in the custody of officers of the 
 law, looks comfortable. Margrave was not an excep- 
 tion to the rule, but when he saw Mr. Gray he put on 
 an air of bravado, which he doubtless thought would 
 conceal the agitation of his mind. He nodded recog- 
 nition, and when his irons were removed, at Mr. 
 Dibbs' request, rubbed his wrists with a comical 
 grimace, and remarked that jewelry of that kind was 
 not to his liking. Then, when the sheriffs had with- 
 drawn into the outer office, and he was left alone 
 with the lawyer, the stenographer and Mr. Gray, he 
 settled himself easily in a chair, and asked whether 
 there was anything he could do to make the occasion 
 more agreeable to all parties. 
 
 " I have sent for you," replied the quiet voice of 
 Mr. Dibbs, " in order that you may make whatever 
 statement you think best, before this gentleman," 
 indicating Gilbert, " as to your connection with the 
 Blair estate. Your words will be taken down in 
 shorthand, and drawn up in the form of an affidavit, 
 to which, should you wish, you can make oath. I 
 offer you no inducement for this. You are to leave 
 the future entirely to me, as far as my action is con- 
 cerned. But if you think best to tell the truth in 
 relation to the matter, you now have an opportunity 
 of doing so."
 
 A CBOSS-EXAMINATIOW. 253 
 
 There Is something in the pushing of a stenogra- 
 pher's pencil over the pages of a notebook deeply 
 impressive to those who have occasion to know for 
 the first time that their words are .being photographed 
 with absolute precision. 
 
 " I have already told you all there is to tell," was 
 Margrave's answer, as he eyed the pencil. 
 
 "What I ask, then, is that you repeat the state- 
 ment for the benefit of Mr. Gray, and in the hearing 
 of this secretary. If you prefer to decline " 
 
 But to this Margrave demurred instantly. He was 
 quite ready, he said, to answer all questions put to 
 him. 
 
 M I thought you would be," said Dibbs, with a grim 
 smile. " Now let me say one thing more. Let your 
 answers refer wholly to the point at issue, and not by 
 any inadvertence stray beyond it. If you have any- 
 thing further to say to Mr. Gray, or to any one let 
 it remain until the stenographer has gone." 
 
 Gray looked up gratefully as this suggestion was 
 made, for he had feared that in the course of the ex- 
 amination something might be uttered which he 
 would rather third parties did not hear. There was 
 sufficient strain already upon his brain. He was try- 
 ing to rest on the assurance of the lawyer that his 
 wife had not been false to him with this man, though 
 he could see no way to establish an innocence which 
 he thought she had herself disclaimed. But, what- 
 ever the truth of that matter, the letter that Dibbs 
 had found in the papers of Colonel Newcombe 
 branded Margrave as the author of her original fall, 
 which was enough to make his presence most hateful
 
 254 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 to her husband. Gilbert buried his face in his hands 
 and listened anxiously for the testimony to proceed. 
 
 " What is your true name ?" was the first question 
 Mr. Dibbs put to his witness. 
 
 " Margrave," was the ready answer. 
 
 " Christian name ?" 
 
 " Jonas." 
 
 Gray looked up, astounded. 
 
 " Have you ever known any one by the name of 
 Julius Margrave ?" 
 
 " Yes, two ; my father, and my brother by a second 
 marriage." 
 
 The lawyer had maintained that this man was 
 named Margrave, and yet that he was a fraud and a 
 cheat. Already he had proved the truth of those 
 assertions. 
 
 In answer to interrogatories, Margrave then went 
 on to tell how his father had contracted marriage 
 with Miss Cynthia Blair within a year of the death 
 of his first wife, and how the lady had died shortly 
 after giving birth to her son Julius. The father was 
 a roving fellow, who left the boys in charge of a 
 housekeeper, being absent for months at a time. The 
 children attended school at their home in New South 
 Wales, where they were taken in infancy, until their 
 early manhood, when the death of Mr. Margrave, Sr., 
 sent them adrift. With what little funds belonged 
 to them they went to England, where their paths 
 diverged. 
 
 " I fell in with a party of gamblers," said Jonas, 
 coolly, "and found that my forte consisted of man- 
 ipulating the cards and the dice-box. Julius went 
 into the office of a solicitor named Darius
 
 A CROSS-EXAMINATION. 255 
 
 where he earned a scanty living for several years, 
 under the impression that he would ultimately gain 
 admission to the bar. He was never in very good 
 health, and about five years ago he migrated sud- 
 denly, in search, as I understood, of a more con- 
 genial climate. Not long ago I received news of his 
 death at Cape Town." 
 
 Cleared, if his story was true, of the charge of 
 intimacy with Gladys in her youthful days, Mar- 
 grave left one of his hearers still puzzled. How 
 could his statement be reconciled with that of Mrs. 
 Gray, that she had met the father of her child of 
 late, and had striven to exact aid from him for her 
 hnsband ? 
 
 Must the onus of her fall be taken from both 
 Jonas and his brother, and placed on still another's 
 shoulders ? And if so, on whose ? 
 
 " Now, about the Blair estate," said Mr. Dibbs 
 encouragingly. 
 
 " Well, that's rather a long story," replied Mar- 
 grave, " but the essential point is that Yates had 
 heard of the conditions of the will from Mr. Gray, 
 in some of their conversations. He had reasons for 
 wanting to keep Julius out of England, and thought 
 the safest way was to hide the news from my brother, 
 who was depending on a small allowance from him 
 for his living, and, might reappear if he should fall 
 into a fortune of that size. But many a time did 
 Yates hint to me that if I minded my business, and 
 all went as he expected, I would be a rich man yet. 
 All I must do was to leave everything to him. In 
 the belief that there was something to the story I 
 went on, doing his bidding like a negro slave."
 
 256 LOVE GONE ASTEAT. 
 
 Mr. Dibbs, who had been growing uneasy for 
 several seconds, interposed a remark that these 
 particulars were unnecessary at this time. 
 
 " When did you first announce your name to be 
 that of Julius Margrave ?" asked the lawyer. 
 
 "Nearly a year ago to my friends in the 'pro- 
 fession.' Mr. Yates suggested it, and said he would 
 give me his reasons in due time. We both knew 
 that my brother was in consumption, and could not 
 live much longer. Naturally, I thought the money 
 Yates so often referred to must be some thai be- 
 longed to Julius, but as he was so near the end I 
 considered him quite as well off without it. After 
 we heard of Julius' death, Yates began sending me 
 letters in that name, to further establish my identity, 
 I suppose, and one of them, that came by accident 
 into Mr. Gray's hands, upset the plot and put me in 
 possession of every card that my smart friend held." 
 
 Mr. Dibbs nodded, and looked at Gray, who was 
 sitting with his right elbow resting on the arm of 
 his chair, biting his nails nervously. 
 
 " That letter addressed to ' Julius Margrave,' " pur- 
 sued the narrator, " was left with Mr. Gray. The 
 man who brought it described me and said I had a 
 room in the house, which was true. Mr. Gray 
 promptly told me I was the heir to the fortune left 
 by Mr. Blair, and I saw the whole play of Mr. Yates 
 as clear as crystal." 
 
 The stenographer stopped to sharpen a pencil, and 
 then the man proceeded. 
 
 " Of course I went to Yates, who was staying here 
 in Chicago, waiting to see how the cat would jump, 
 and told him I thought we had been partners long
 
 A CROSS-EXAMINATION. 257 
 
 enough. I said I was going in for my fortune, and he 
 
 had better not get in my way unless he wanted to be 
 hurt. He blustered and threatened, but he didn't 
 scare me. I didn't believe he would dare raise my 
 ante. So I sent to New South Wales for photographs 
 and affidavits, and all sorts of proof, and put them 
 into the case. And if it hadn't been for you," he 
 Snapped his fingers jocosely at Mr. Dibbs, "I would 
 have divided the property before now with Mr. Gray, 
 and more than likely have lost the whol-e of my share 
 in some big plunge at the gaming table." 
 
 The lawyer bowed, as if he had no intention of 
 disputing these assertions. 
 
 *'In short," he said, "your name is Jonas instead 
 of Julius Margrave; you have no claim whatever to 
 any part of Abel Blair's property ; and all the so- 
 called ' proofs ' you have furnished to the contrary 
 are false and worthless." 
 
 "That's about it," said Margrave. 
 
 "And to this you are willing to make oath T 
 
 ** At your convenience." 
 
 Consulting first with the shorthand writer, the law- 
 yer said he would call at the jail in two days' time 
 with the document ready for the affidavit. 
 
 " Two days ? Can't you call it one ?" was the re- 
 ply. '* I'm not particularly struck with my lodgings, 
 and my landlord is such an old curmudgeon that he 
 won't even allow me a latchkey. I don't intend to 
 stay there much longer than wiH enable me to accom 
 modate you with these little matters." 
 
 " I shall need two days," said Mr. Dibbs. " As 
 for the rest, remember, 1 have made no promises." 
 
 Margrave laughed.
 
 258 LOVE GONE A8TKAY. 
 
 '* Of course. But the habeas corpus writ will be 
 issued, just the same, and I shall sleep in a decent 
 bed day after to-morrow night. I hope Mr. Gray 
 won't forget," he added, " that he owes me five thou- 
 sand dollars and interest, which will come in very 
 handy in the present emergency. If / owed it to 
 him, he'd dun me fast enough, as I have occasion to 
 remember.'' This with another laugh. " 1 don't 
 suppose," he continued, seeing the black cloud that 
 was gathering on Gilbert's face, " that he's any too 
 fond of me, seeing the trick I was trying to play ; 
 but, considering that he has all the stakes, and I 
 haven't drawn a single pair, I don't think he ought 
 to take it too much to heart.'* 
 
 Gray rose and stepped forward. 
 
 "If Mr. Dibbs is through with you," he said, his 
 voice trembling with excitement, " I want you to an 
 swer a few questions to me alone !" 
 
 " No, no !" interposed the lawyer, hastily. " Not 
 to-day. I have something of more importance to 
 arrange with you. Mr. Margrave's address is well 
 known, and we can see hkn later." 
 
 "Yes," smiled the prisoner, not much disconcerted 
 oy Gilbert's outburst, " you can call at any reason- 
 able hour and be certain to find me in. And I assure 
 you, Mr. Gray, I will answer every question you put 
 to me, to the best of my ability. I'm a gambler and 
 a rogue, but, as I think I told you once before, I con- 
 sider you a White man, and the deal from now on 
 will be square on my side." 
 
 Unwillingly, Gilbert saw the sheriffs enter, rema> * 
 acle their man and take him away. He must rely 
 on Dibbs now. The lawyer had saved him iiis for
 
 A CROSS-EXAMINATION. 
 
 tune, and had asserted his ability to save him his 
 wife also. The only way was to be guided by his 
 advice in everything. 
 
 " We'll go up to your house now," said Dibbs, 
 when the room was cleared. " I want a little private 
 conversation with Mrs. Gray." 
 
 To this Gilbert strenuously objected. Until his 
 wife was cleared of the accusations she had made 
 against herself, he did not wish to enter her door. 
 Mr. E) ibbs might go and welcome. All the arguments 
 that could be brought to bear failed to shake him in 
 this determination. 
 
 " Where shall I find you ?" asked Dibbs, " when I 
 return ?" 
 
 " I will go to the Leland House and take a room 
 there. You can ask the number at the office." 
 
 "Very well," was the unwilling reply. "But, for 
 Heaven's sake, don't get into any foolishness while 
 you are gone. We will have this thing settled to 
 your entire satisfaction in a day or two, if you don't 
 make trouble yourself. I think," continued the law- 
 yer, musingly, " that the best thing is to send Hart- 
 well along with you. He'll keep you out of mischief 
 and entertain you at the same time with some of the 
 things he has unearthed." 
 
 Gray asked who Hartwell was, for he did not like 
 the idea of being put under surveillance, as if he 
 were a child. 
 
 " Hartwell ? Why, he's the detective who has 
 worked up this whole affair. You'll find him as in- 
 teresting as a new novel. He's been at work for 
 months, and he has t nice little bili against you by
 
 260 LOVE GONE ASTEA.Y. 
 
 this time, too. Come, his office is only a few doors 
 from here. Let us see if he is in." 
 
 This statement put a very different face on the 
 proposition, and Mr. Gray assented eagerly to the 
 proposal. Mr. Hartvvell was found, and proved to 
 be an undersized man, about forty years of age, and 
 with the last face that would be thought by the un- 
 initited to belong to a " sleuthhound " of justice. 
 
 " We'll not be at the Leland, though," said Hart- 
 well, as Dibbs was about to leave them. " We'll be 
 at the Windsor. And when you go to the office, you 
 needn't ask for Mr. Gray, but for me." 
 
 Gray glanced from one to the other of his com- 
 panions, but made no reply. He felt that there must 
 be a reason for the change, and that it would be 
 made known to him later. He was anxious to put 
 nothing in Mr. Dibbs' way. If he should return with 
 the dreadful riddle solved if he should show that 
 Gladys was an honest wife if he should prove their 
 household intact life would be worth living once 
 more. Without those things the thousands Gilbert 
 had so longed for would be an empty treasure in his 
 hands. 
 
 Mr. Dibbs did not find Mrs. Gray at home. She 
 had been gone but a few moments, the servant said, 
 and had left a letter for her husband, asking that it 
 be. delivered to him when he came in. The lawyer 
 Stated that he was going directly to Mr. Gray and 
 would hand him the note. He hastened to his cab, 
 and directing the driver to go as fast as possible to 
 the Windsor House, he tore open the envelope. It 
 was no time to think of trifles. 
 
 This was the way the letter read :
 
 4 CROSS-EX AMTN A TIO1C. 261 
 
 " MY HUSBAND: Notwithstanding the cruel words yoa 
 used to me this morning, I shall make one more effort to 
 save the fortune that should by right be yours. I have 
 brought you nothing but shame and misery. Whatever 
 happens you cannot regard me with greater horror than 
 you already do. 
 
 " Unless I send you before to-morrow full proofs that 
 you are entitled to the whole of Mr. Blair's estate, you will 
 know that I have died in the meantime. You can draw 
 your own conclusions. I cannot exist without your love, 
 nor if anything happens to make me less worthy of it than 
 I now am. 
 
 " Be good to the children ; they at least are not to blame. 
 " Your heartbroken GLADYS." 
 
 The good lawyer cursed roundly to himself in the 
 solitude of his cab, and then shouted from the win- 
 dow for the driver to quicken the pace of his horses. 
 Arriving at the Windsor he hurried to Hart well's 
 room, and was received at the door by another de- 
 tective, named Gardiner, with his finger on his lips. 
 
 " 'Sh !" whispered the detective. " Step lightly, 
 and don't dare even to breathe. I think we've 
 flushed the bird 1'*
 
 262 LOVE GONE ASTEAT. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 GLADYS IN PERIL. 
 
 IN that same Windsor Hotel, on the third floor, a 
 pale and much agitated man was pacing up and 
 down his sitting-room, with nervous steps. Fre- 
 quently he stopped at the window that looked upon 
 the street and peered anxiously below, as if he hoped 
 to see a familiar face in the mass that was visible 
 amid the lights of the early evening. Anon he paused 
 at the door that led from his room into the public 
 hall, listening. The watch in his fob pocket was 
 taken out and inspected every few moments, im- 
 patiently. 
 
 " Good God ! Why doesn't she come !" he ejacu- 
 lated, under his breath, again and again. 
 
 There were dark rings about his eyes. His sleep 
 had evidently been irregular of late. There was 
 something careless and slipshod in his attire. His 
 hair, through which his thin fingers were passed over 
 and over, was not in order. His temples were hot 
 and his pulse feverish. 
 
 A low knock at the door roused him to sudden 
 action. He sprang to admit the newcomer, a veiled 
 lady in black, who stepped across the threshold as if 
 she had a fear of being pursued. The portal was 
 closed rapidly behind her and locked with a spas- 
 modic motion. Then the man turned with a counte- 
 nance beaming with joy and addressed his com- 
 panion.
 
 GLADYS IN PERIL. 263 
 
 * Gladys s my darling!" he cried. "You have 
 come at last. I knew you would not refuse, when 
 you had thought of everything !" 
 
 Mrs. Gray, for it was she, drew back from the 
 arms that threatened to enfold her, and put up both 
 hands to avoid the embrace. Her veil, when thrown 
 back from her face, showed that she was even paler 
 than he had been, and that she also labored under 
 an excitement which she was vainly trying to con- 
 ceal. 
 
 " I have come," she answered, wearily, " but only 
 to talk with you to persuade you to do what is 
 right. I have come because I believe there is virtue 
 left in you still." 
 
 The man showed disappointment in every linea- 
 ment. 
 
 " Then you have made a great mistake," he said. 
 " I have no virtue, no conscience, that can stifle 
 the mad love I feel for you the love that has con- 
 sumed me every hour for the past seven years ! 
 Gladys, I beg you not to enter on that strain, for it 
 can have no effect. Sit down, compose yourself, and 
 let us discuss the matter sensibly." 
 
 The lady, breathing heavily, complied with the 
 suggestion to be seated, and the man took a chair 
 near her. 
 
 " If you could realize the depth of the sentiment 
 that thrills me," he continued, " you would know 
 better how to forgive the means I take to bring it to 
 fruition. The first minute I saw you that flame was 
 aroused in my heart. I was nearly fifteen years 
 your elder I had a wife of my own all this it is 
 useless to deny. But when I gazed into your girlish
 
 264 LOVE GONE ASTEAT. 
 
 eyes, every fibre of my being was stirred into irresist- 
 ible passion !" 
 
 The face opposite to his averted itself and there 
 was no reply from the white lips. 
 
 "You know what happened," he went on. "The 
 third time we met you made a promise to come to 
 my rooms alone a promise that you broke. But at 
 our next meeting you promised again, and that time 
 you kept your word. I meant nothing wrong by 
 you ; I swear it ! I wanted you where I could bathe 
 my soul in your loveliness, but I did not dream of 
 bearing away the flower which had intoxicated me 
 with its perfume. And that anything did occur that 
 day beyond an exchange of civilities perhaps an in- 
 nocent kiss was it altogether my fault, Gladys ?" 
 
 A groan escaped from the woman's lips at the 
 question. 
 
 "Ah !" she cried. "You were older you were a 
 man you should have been too generous to accept 
 such an advantage ; you should have repulsed me ! 
 No, you cannot escape your guilt by reminding me 
 that my brain was the first to take fire, unused to such 
 a situation as that of an infant in its cradle !" 
 
 He bade her lower her voice, which had been 
 raised to a key that might have been heard outside 
 the apartment. 
 
 "You never give me the least credit," he com- 
 plained, "for the part I acted when the harm was 
 done ; for the shrewd manner in which I saved your 
 reputation to the world, by arranging your marriage. 
 Who else, think you, would have secured that letter 
 from young Margrave, and kept him out of the coun- 
 try until his death ? He never even knew to whom
 
 GLADYS IN PEKIL. 265 
 
 it was sent, and in his consumptive condition the 
 only thing that mattered to him was the monthly 
 pension I provided. It took no small amount of 
 labor, either, to bring Gray to the point. And, all 
 that time, consider the agony I suffered in resigning 
 you to the arms of another man, even though -I be- 
 lieved in my inmost soul you would still have the 
 gratitude to continue mine. I had to wear a smile 
 when the canker was eating my heart. I was 
 obliged to cajole that jackanapes when I would have 
 preferred to cut his throat. You never remember 
 these things, Gladys. You never think of what I 
 endured because I was tied to another woman and 
 could not wed you myself. I gave you up, I made 
 you a wife, I took your repulses, I saw you fading 
 out of my reach. I learned you had borne a second 
 child, and that it belonged to him ! Can there be a 
 greater hell in the next world than has been mine 
 during these years ?" 
 
 Many times in the course of this outburst did Mrs. 
 Gray try to interrupt the speaker, and at its close she 
 addressed him piteously. 
 
 "But why," she asked, "when all this was past, 
 when the good you tried to do me was accomplished, 
 when I was living honorably with this man, must you 
 seek to tear me from him ? Why, when the clouds 
 that you brought on my head had so nearly disap- 
 peared, must you come to plunge me again into 
 darkness ?" 
 
 He leaned toward her and spoke in a very low 
 voice. 
 
 " Because the time has at last arrived when I can 
 take you to my home, when I can give you my name.
 
 266 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 For the past year I have been a widower. I want 
 you, Gladys, more than ever, now that no other mar- 
 riage stands in my way. Never for a second have I 
 ceased to love you, and your repeated refusals, your 
 reiterated repulses will be forgiven only when the 
 law has separated you from him and made you mine 
 forever !" 
 
 The hands of Mrs. Gray were clasped over her face, 
 and her form rocked to and fro in pain. 
 
 " Whatever you may have had of love for me," she 
 answered, " I never felt the least affection in return. 
 In spite of my conduct in those days when you threw 
 your evil personality around me, I never cared for 
 you ; no, never ! I used to leave your side in the 
 bitterest contrition for my sins. I returned to you 
 as the bird goes to the fangs of the snake it knows 
 not how to resist. Even when giving all that is sup- 
 posed to go with the deepest love, I hated you with 
 my whole mind. More than once, with lips pressed 
 to yours, I have wished that a knife lay near, that I 
 might plunge it into your breast ! And when I re- 
 member the suffering you made me endure the 
 misery I brought to the best of fathers, the lies I told 
 to the kindest of mothers, the shame I became to the 
 most honorable of husbands, I wonder I do not find 
 some weapon to kill you now, instead of supplicating 
 for the mercy it is not in your iron heart to grant !" 
 
 The man winced under the lash, but he had no 
 idea of giving up. He renewed liis arguments, con- 
 fident that in the end she would have to succumb to 
 his wishes. 
 
 "You know what I can do, if you drive me to it," 
 he said, slowly. "I can send your husband proofs
 
 GLADYS IN PERIL. 267 
 
 that you have met me here repeatedly and been 
 closeted with me for hours together. I " 
 
 " But he knows it already," she interrupted, wJth a 
 shiver. 
 
 " What do you mean ?" he asked, glancing toward 
 the door in alarm. 
 
 " I mean that he accused me of it to-day, and that 
 I had not the courage to deny the charge. Yes," she 
 added, as she saw the effect her words produced, '' he 
 knows it now, all about Marianne and everything ; he 
 knows we have had secret meetings ; and he told 
 me " she uttered a gasp " that because of this he 
 would never see or speak to me again. He left the 
 house hours ago, and he has not returned." 
 
 This was indeed unexpected news. Quick 
 thoughts passed through the brain of the listener. 
 What was Mr. Gray doing at the present moment ? 
 More than likely searching the city to find him, and 
 if so, with no amicable intentions. However, in- 
 quiry at the hotel office would not reveal the correct 
 name of the occupant of his rooms, for a pseudonym 
 had always been used there. All the stronger 
 reasons now prevailed for securing Gladys and mak- 
 ing the quickest possible flight to Europe. 
 
 " If your husband has said this," he told her, " you 
 can never hope to regain his affection. A gulf is 
 now established between you. Well, in exchange 
 for his coldness, I offer the warmest love. His home 
 will be closed to you, mine will be open. You shall 
 bring both your children," he went on, eagerly. " I 
 will give them the care of a father without distinc- 
 tion. Gladys, my dearest, I do not wish to threaten 
 you. I have only tried to use the surest means to
 
 268 LOVE GONE ASTBAT. 
 
 bring you to my way of thinking. If there is any 
 other stipulation that you wish me to make, you have 
 but to ask and you will see how willingly I will 
 grant it. Only I must have you. I cannot live with- 
 out you !" 
 
 She thought of the home that was ruined and her 
 heart sank. Gilbert had cast her off. The fortune 
 he had thought to gain by his marriage had 
 vanished. If she could bring it back to him, per- 
 haps perhaps he would forgive her. 
 
 " It would be so easy for you to help me out of 
 my troubles," she stammered. "You say you pos- 
 sess proofs that Mr. Margrave has no right to the 
 property that Mr. Blair willed Gilbert. You admit 
 that you have nothing personally to gain or lose in 
 the transaction. Why, oh ! why, will you not give 
 those proofs to me, and let me take them to my hus- 
 band ? With that simple act you would make me 
 the happiest woman on earth, and do much to blot 
 from your soul the terrible record of sin that so dis- 
 figures it. You will do it ! I know you will !" she 
 cried, sinking on the carpet at his feet. " You have 
 only been trying me !" 
 
 He put his hands on her head and the touch 
 seemed to harden rather than melt him. 
 
 " He took you once for money, and you think he 
 would do so again !" he answered, bitterly. " Per- 
 haps he would ; I do not think his estimate of you is 
 much higher than that. But I assure you I shall not 
 help him this time. No, I have the secret that can 
 make him rich, and mine it remains unless you give 
 your own sweet self in exchange. In this envelope 
 is absolute evidence that the Blair estate is his.
 
 GLADYS IN PEEIL. 269 
 
 Swear to go with me to Europe, and to marry me as 
 soon as a divorce from him can be obtained, and I 
 will give you that package. If you think you owe 
 him anything more than he has already had, your 
 debt will be richly paid with these papers. All you 
 have to do is to send him this envelope by a messen- 
 ger, with a note saying you will not see him again. 
 The children are easily obtainable, and I will guaran- 
 tee that on Saturday we and they will be on the 
 ocean. If you decline you have simply lost him and 
 he has" lost his property. I will make no other 
 terms." 
 
 The woman's eyes began to scintillate with strange 
 fires. She seemed to realize her helplessness in the 
 presence of this strong force. 
 
 " Let me see," she murmured. " Gilbert is to 
 have two hundred thousand dollars in exchange for 
 me. Do you think that will satisfy him ?" 
 
 " He will call it a splendid bargain !" 
 
 " And I what am I to get ? Oh, yes ; your love 
 and esteem !" 
 
 " The truest ever given woman. Gladys, only 
 come with me and I will never leave you one hour 
 for repentance." 
 
 As if almost persuaded she hesitated a moment, 
 and then burst into sobbing. 
 
 "Why do you want me?" she asked, wildly. 
 " Look more carefully. I am not as young as I was. 
 I have borne two children and nursed them since 
 you used to know me. My beauty is badly faded. 
 These are not the goods that attracted your eye 
 when they were first placed on the counter. You say 
 I may bring both my babies his as well as yours ?
 
 270 L.OVE GONE ASTKAT. 
 
 Are you certain you will never show a difference 
 between them, as he has never done ?" 
 
 With all the passion that filled his veins he met 
 every question. He should love her, old or young, 
 fresh or faded. His affection was one of a lifetime. 
 Her child should be his. He saw that she was about 
 to yield and he wanted to make his happiness certain, 
 at whatever cost. 
 
 "Give me the envelope," she said, at last, resum- 
 ing her seat in the chair. " Show me exactly what 
 it contains. One must be very careful when one is 
 asked to pay so dear a price." 
 
 "If these documents establish what I claim, then, 
 have I your promise ?" he demanded. 
 
 She bowed, reaching out her hand for them. 
 
 " You promise to be mine, as long as you live ?" 
 
 " To be yours as long as I live." 
 
 With a glad cry he tried to clasp her in his arms % 
 but she held him off. 
 
 "Wait!" she said, imperiously. "The payment, 
 first." 
 
 Convinced that she would keep her word, he 
 opened the package, and spread the contents before 
 her. 
 
 "You see," he explained, when she had perused 
 thsm, "Julius Margrave died at Cape Town in 
 August last. His half brother, who has imperson- 
 ated him, will get, if he has his deserts, about ten 
 years in the State prison. This leaves Mr. Gray 
 heir to the whole property." 
 
 Yes, it was very plain. Gilbert would get the 
 money as soon as it was shown that Margrave was a 
 fraudulent claimant. Gladys* confused brain had
 
 GLADYS IN PERIL. 271 
 
 strength enough left to comprehend that. She sat 
 down at a desk and addressed the envelope to her 
 husband. Then she wrote a short note, saying that 
 she had kept her word, and that he must not try to 
 find her, as all was over between them. She moved 
 the pen mechanically across the paper, and her com- 
 panion, who leaned over her shoulder, expressed his 
 satisfaction with the tenor of the communication. 
 
 " Now," said Mrs. Gray, rising, " I will go and take 
 this to his house, giving it to the servant for him. 
 It is very important that it gets into his hands safely." 
 
 The ruse was too transparent to succeed. 
 
 " Excuse me," was the answer. " I can hardly 
 permit that. I will ring for a district messenger." 
 
 " But," she said, " supposing the boy should tell 
 Mr. Gray where we are, and he should come here and 
 find us." 
 
 " If I give him five dollars, he will agree to know 
 nothing about it. No, my dear, we have been separ- 
 ated for the last time." 
 
 She was at the end of her excuses, and she saw the 
 call-button pressed without further objection. When 
 the messenger came, the envelope with the bribe for 
 secrecy was put into his hand. 
 
 " You dorit know where this came from, under- 
 stand ?" 
 
 " Yes," said the boy. " I understand perfectly." 
 
 And, although he was but fourteen years of age, 
 he thought, as he looked from one of them to the 
 other, that he did. 
 
 " Now," said the man, when the door was locked 
 again, " you are mine !" 
 
 He moved toward her, but she stepped backward.
 
 272 LOVE ONE ASTBAY. 
 
 / "A minute !" she cried. " A minute. You need 
 not be in such haste, when you are to have me ' as 
 long as I live. ' ' 
 
 There was something in her manner that alarmed 
 him. He thought uneasily of what she had said a 
 short time before of her declaration that if she did 
 her duty she would kill him. He did not try to 
 follow her closely, for he suspected that she meant 
 him harm. And before he had the least idea of what 
 she intended, she had sprung into his bed-room, and 
 locked the door in his face. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 " STAND BACK !" 
 
 IN engaging Mr. Hartwell to " work up " the Blair 
 atfair, Mr. Dibbs had hit upon exactly the right per- 
 son. There is a pretense in some quarters of despis- 
 ing the art of the private detective, but when he is 
 honest and capable he can be of the greatest service 
 to the community. In dealing with scoundrels it is 
 impossible that one should pursue means that are 
 wholly above board. Rascality is not ordinarily per- 
 petrated in the full light of day. He who would fer- 
 ret it out needs to imitate the fox and the serpent, 
 but his calling is honorable for all that. 
 
 Mr. Hartwell had known for some time that Mrs. 
 Gray was holding private meetings with a gentleman 
 who had a suite of rooms in the Windsor Hotel. It
 
 "STAND BACK!" 273 
 
 became a part of his duty to know what transpired 
 at those meetings, and he adopted the simple way of 
 hiring the adjoining apartment. With sufficiently 
 delicate tools he contrived to penetrate the connect- 
 ing wall, without giving cause for suspicion, and not 
 a meeting after that took place which he did not at- 
 tend. 
 
 He deemed it wisest to keep his counsel for the 
 present. He realized the temptations that were 
 thrown, around the young woman ; but he was also a 
 witness to the sturdy manner in which she held to 
 the path of virtue. Had any real danger presented 
 itself he would have alarmed her by noises on the 
 wall, and if necessary have gone, even, to the door 
 and demanded admittance. 
 
 Although possessed of plenty of evidence by this 
 time that Jonas Margrave was a fraud, the detective 
 was not averse to having his proofs strengthened. 
 He had heard the man in the adjoining room declare 
 that he possessed an envelope containing proof that 
 Gilbert Gray was the only heir to the Blair estate. 
 It was Mr. Hartwell's full intention to get that en- 
 velope into his hand before he had done with this 
 affair, and he missed none of the interviews, lest the 
 precious documents should be disposed of at a time 
 when he could not follow them. At the last previous 
 meeting, Gladys had been promised that if she would 
 return again the evidence claimed would be spread 
 before her. Hartwell kept his assistant, Mr. Gar- 
 diner, on duty every moment, ready to notify him if 
 the lady made her appearance. On the day when 
 he went to the hotel with Gilbert, he was just in time
 
 274 LOVE GONK 
 
 to anticipate his messenger, and to hear the entire 
 conversation related in the preceding chapter. 
 
 When Mr. Dtbbs came in he found Mr. Gray sit. 
 ting dolefully with the second detective in the room 
 farthest from that communicating with the one in 
 which Gladys was staying. Gray had been told that 
 his wife was in the house, and that her every action 
 could be watched by Hartwell from the inner cham- 
 ber. But he had also been assured that her conduct, 
 strange as it might seem, was fully consistent with 
 uprightness, and that if he would only summon the 
 patience to remain quiet a short time it would be 
 proved to his satisfaction. He nodded to Dibbs, but 
 did not speak. The perspiration was standing on 
 his forehead and he was as weak as an infant. 
 
 It must be admitted that his position was not an 
 agreeable one. All he cared for in life hung on a 
 thread that seemed of the slenderest texture. If he 
 had known that Gardiner had orders to keep him 
 there at any cost, even were it necessary to bind and 
 gag him, he would have been more nervous still. 
 Mr. Hartwell had no intention of having his brew 
 spoiled at that critical moment, even by the man in 
 whose interest he was at work. 
 
 It was a horrible hour that Gray waited, and he said 
 afterwards that he would not have believed a human 
 being could endure so much pain and live. 
 
 Suddenly Mr. Hartwell bounded into the room, 
 and with a low cry of " Come, all of you !" burst out 
 of the door that led into the hall. The arrangement 
 of the floor was such that several sections had to be 
 traversed before the other apartment was reached, 
 which took time that could illy be spared. But in
 
 " STAND BACK !" 275 
 
 twenty seconds the fist of the detective was knock- 
 ing loudly on the door and his voice demanding 
 fiercely for the man inside to open. 
 
 For a small person Mr. Hartwell had a good deal 
 of strength. He could have broken a panel of the 
 door unaided had he chosen. The wood began to 
 creak threateningly. Several employes of the house 
 came running to see what had caused the trouble. 
 
 "Stand back!" cried a voice on the inside. "I 
 will blow a hole through the first man that enters !" 
 
 " Nonsense !" replied Hartwell. " Do you want 
 the woman to die ? I think she is committing sui- 
 cide ! It is for her sake, not yours, that I ask admit- 
 tance." 
 
 Evidently startled by the suggestion that Gladys 
 was in danger, and having failed to elicit the least 
 reply from her to the calls he had made before the 
 others came, the man's attitude changed at once. 
 
 " Wait, then," he answered. " Don't break the 
 door ; I will unlock it. But remember, I am armed, 
 and no one shall touch me." 
 
 At the opening of the portal half a dozen men 
 tumbled into the roon>. The pistol that had been 
 drawn was knocked from the man's hand before he 
 could form a thought, and Gardiner had him a pris- 
 oner. 
 
 " My God !" ejaculated Mr. Gray, as he looked at 
 the ashen features. " Darius Yates !" 
 
 But the voice of Hartwell, calling to Mrs. Gray to 
 open, as her husband and friends were there, nerved 
 him to the greater duty of the moment. He saw 
 that bracelets of iron were on the wrists of his 
 enemy, and that he was not likely to get away from
 
 276 LOVE GOWB ASTRAY. 
 
 his captor ; and a second later his shoulder was 
 added to the others that were pressing on the door 
 that led into the bedroom in which Gladys had 
 sought refuge. The obstruction gave way before 
 them. And at the farther end of the room, in an arm- 
 chair, her head thrown back and her eyes closed, he 
 saw the still form of his wife. 
 
 "Gladys!" he cried, grasping her limp hand. 
 Gladys ! Speak to me !" 
 
 He was kneeling on the floor, in an agony of fear, 
 of love and of repentance. Mr. Hartwell, more prac- 
 tical, pushed up the eyelids with his fingers, and 
 placing his nostrils at the mouth, drew in a long 
 breath. 
 
 " She has taken opium in some form," he said. 
 Then to one of the hotel boys, " Run for a doctor, 
 as quick as you can ! Her life may depend on 
 seconds !" To another he gave directions to bring 
 with all haste some simple remedies that could be 
 obtained in the kitchen ; and, calling to Mr. Dibbs to 
 take charge of Yates, he summoned Gardiner into 
 the room, as more experienced in cases of this kind. 
 
 It touched the heart of the husband to see the 
 rough manner in which these men handled his dar- 
 ling for she had never been so dear to him as she 
 was now. Innocent or guilty she had been his wife ; 
 she had lain in his arms; and he loved her ! Hartwell 
 took a pocket-knife and cut the corset strings and 
 collar, that the breathing might be freer. Then be- 
 tween them the officers shook and tumbled the 
 unfortunate lady about in a way that would on any 
 other occasion have been most inconsiderate and im- 
 polite.
 
 " STAND BACK < 277 
 
 " She is living," exclaimed Hartwell. " She must 
 be roused, or the doctor will find himself too late." 
 
 The hope of the detective which was that Gladys 
 had swallowed an overdose of laudanum proved 
 correct, and the wisdom of the treatment to which 
 they subjected her was soon apparent. As this is not 
 a medical treatise it may suffice to say that when the 
 physician arrived he pronounced her out of danger, 
 and that the stupor of impending dissolution was 
 soon changed to the calm and peaceful sleep of 
 safety. 
 
 " She will be all right in a few hours," said the 
 doctor to the anxious husband, when he was ready 
 to leave. " It is best for her and for you that you 
 leave the room. The nurse that I have placed in 
 charge will see to all her needs. When she awakes 
 it will not do for her to get excited." 
 
 Gilbert, relieved more than words can express, 
 walked with the two detectives out of the bedroom 
 and into the parlor. A new door, taken from some 
 other room, had been hung already in place of the 
 broken one, and through the efforts of the manage- 
 ment the neighborhood of the apartment had as- 
 sumed its wonted quiet. One of the hall boys told 
 them that " the other gentlemen " had gone into Mr 
 Hartwell's chamber , and they went in that direction. 
 Wild thoughts began to come to Gray's heated brain, 
 and he wanted to be face to face again with the 
 would-be destroyer of his peace. 
 
 " Look here !" said Hartwell, pausing in the hall- 
 way. " You're not going to act nasty with that fel- 
 low, in this house, are you ? Because, that won't do 
 at all. I can swoar there's been nothing wrong be-
 
 278 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 tween them here. They've not been one second with- 
 out my eyes on them. The woman has acted as true 
 to you as steel. He told her he could prove Margrave 
 a liar, and save you the estate, and in exchange for the 
 papers she has offered you her life. It was a clear 
 attempt at suicide. He was as scared as you please 
 when she jumped into that bedroom and locked her- 
 self in. We'll decide what to do with him when we 
 get there ; but don't you try to take the law on your- 
 self, for I shall have to stop you, if you do." 
 
 Gray did not want a debate. He did not like to 
 make promises. He wanted to see Yates as soon as 
 possible, leaving his conduct to be considered later. 
 He contented the detective with a nod, and they 
 went on together. But on arriving at their destina- 
 tion, a surprise awaited them. 
 
 Mr. Dibbs was sitting at a window alone, looking 
 out upon the street. 
 
 " Where's Yates ?" asked Hartwell and Gardiner in 
 one breath. 
 
 " Gone," said Mr. Dibbs, imperturbably. 
 
 " Gone where ?" 
 
 "I don't know. I didn't ask him. I understood 
 he had some private affairs to attend to." 
 
 The three men gazed at each other with open 
 mouths. 
 
 " Do you mean to say you released him ?" asked 
 Gray, fiercely. 
 
 "That's just what I did." 
 
 " Why ?" asked Hartwell. " Come, there's no use 
 in this mystery. I left the man in your hands, and if 
 you've let him go, I want the reason !" 
 
 u Yes !" echoed Gilbert. " And I want it, too !"
 
 " STAND BACK I" 279 
 
 The lawyer rose and came easily toward the trio. 
 
 ** Mr. Gray wants the reason, and he shall have 
 it," said he. " You must be satisfied, gentlemen," 
 he prided to the others, " that I did what I thought 
 on the whole the wisest thing for all concerned. 
 You know me well enough not to think he scared or 
 bribed me. I am acting for Mr. Gray, and I think 
 I shall convince him that I made no mistake. Will 
 you kindly let us have the room for a short time ?" 
 
 The manner of .the speaker was convincing, and 
 after a brief consultation the detectives retired into 
 the inner chamber and closed the door after them. 
 
 " Let us sit down," said Dibbs, when he and Gil- 
 bert were alone. " You've had excitement enough 
 for one day. Now, why did I take the responsibility 
 to let that scamp off on leg bail ? Because I knew 
 that he could not be convicted of any offense known 
 to the laws of this State, and that it would bring 
 nothing but additional distress on you and your 
 family to take him before a jury." 
 
 Mr. Gray clenched his fists. 
 
 "I don't want any jury to deal with him !" he 
 answered. " I can attend to that matter myself." 
 
 "Very likely," was the cool rejoinder. "But it 
 was not a part of my business to hold a man here 
 with handcuffs on while you came in and pummeled 
 him. If you want to see him again which, on reflec- 
 tion, I am sure you won't you must take the chance 
 of finding him. I only looked at the question of law. 
 He might be indicted for conspiring with Jonas Mar- 
 grave to swindle you out of two hundred thousand dol- 
 lars, but the evidence would be Margrave's word alone, 
 and we don't want to rest a case on such a flimsy
 
 280 LOVE GONE ASTKAT. 
 
 foundation as that. He persuaded your wife to 
 meet him here, hoping to get her to consent to an 
 elopement, and if he had succeeded he would have 
 been open to prosecution ; but as he didn't, what 
 shall we charge him with ? She brought the 
 laudanum with her, and Yates was as surprised as 
 any one when she locked the door in his face and 
 swallowed it. I'm not standing up for the man I 
 felt disgraced by having to stay in the same room 
 with him for twenty minutes but as to arresting 
 him and taking him to court it would be the silliest 
 thing imaginable. Hartwell won't fancy my inter- 
 ference, but I can't help that. He's a good detective, 
 as good as there is, but he don't know law quite as 
 well as I do." 
 
 The logic of this reasoning was too strong to be 
 resisted, and Gray had to admit that Dibbs had 
 taken the wisest course. Still he fully intended to 
 get his own hands on the miscreant some day and 
 give him his just deserts. His sense of justice 
 urged that punishment was due such a gross at- 
 tempt against the rights of a husband, such a damn- 
 able plot to bring ruin to a helpless and loving wife. 
 When Hartwell and Gardiner came out he merely 
 remarked that he agreed with Mr. Dibbs, and he left 
 them to argue it out together, while he went on tip- 
 toe to the chamber where Gladys lay and learned 
 from the nurse that she was doing nicely and that 
 he had no cause for fear. 
 
 Late that night, when half undressed, Mr. Dibbs 
 was told that a gentleman had come to speak to 
 him, and begged a word, notwithstanding the hour.
 
 "STAND BACK !" 231 
 
 On being shown in he saw that his visitor was none 
 other than Darius Yates. 
 
 " You need not sit down !" he said, sternly, as the 
 solicitor essayed to take a chair. "State your busi- 
 ness quickly and go." 
 
 Yates had hardly strength enough to stand, and 
 he had to hold to a neighboring object for support. 
 
 " I want to know the latest news about her" he 
 stammered. " She she is in no danger?" 
 
 " I presume you mean Mrs. Gray," was the cold 
 replyi "What is her condition to you? You are 
 out of the hands of the law." 
 
 The dark circles around the questioner's eyes 
 grew darker. 
 
 " She she will live ?" he persisted. " She will 
 recover ? I will ask you nothing more ; but, in the 
 name of mercy, tell me that !" 
 
 " In the name of mercy !" echoed Dibbs. " What 
 do you know of mercy what mercy did you show ? 
 For all of you she might now be robed for her grave. 
 No, she is in no danger. The doctor assures us there 
 are years of happiness for her yet, with her children 
 and her husband." 
 
 Yates winced at the latter words, but his relief at 
 the good news was greater than all else. 
 
 " Thank you !" he said, with a gasp. Then he 
 paused a moment and repeated, " Thank you !" with 
 great earnestness. 
 
 " Let me advise you not to remain another day in 
 Chicago," said Mr. Dibbs, as he saw his visitor about 
 to depart. " The man you have so deeply injured 
 may make it unpleasant if he finds you here." 
 
 Yates turned and eyed the lawyer strangely.
 
 282 LOVK GONK ASTKAY. 
 
 "It is he who has injured me /" he said, in a deep 
 voice. " I had her before he did. Her oldest child 
 is mine that tells the story. And I love her as he is 
 incapable of loving ! Look in my face. Death has 
 set his mark there within the past six hours. To 
 have her again was to live ; to lose her is to die. 
 Let her husband kill me if he wishes. My misery 
 cannot too soon find an end." 
 
 He staggered down the stairway, and Israel Dibbs 
 went to his bed horrified. 
 
 " Hartwell knew that, too," he muttered to himself. 
 " I must keep Gray from this man. However richly 
 he deserves shooting they have a way of putting men 
 in jail here for that kind of sport ; and with his new 
 fortune and his domestic bliss reopened Gray won't 
 want to see the inside of a prison just at present." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF A CRIME. 
 
 A WEEK later, when Mrs. Gray had recovered from 
 the effects of her attempt to end her life, she insisted 
 that her husband should hear in detail the story she 
 ought to have told him long before. He objected 
 strenuously to having her excite herself, but she said 
 she was able at last to speak calmly, now that she 
 was certain of his affection and forgiveness, and that 
 she would feel better when the ordeal was over. 
 Pressing a kiss on her lips, and uttering a few words
 
 THE HISTORY OF A GRIME. 283 
 
 of caution, Mr. Gray seated himself by her side and 
 listened to her sad recital. 
 
 She told of meeting Mr. Yates, when she was but 
 seventeen, at the hotel in London where she was liv- 
 ing, and of the malific influence which he began at 
 once to exercise upon her. It was something clearly 
 of the hypnotic order, for until then she had never 
 felt the slightest attraction toward the opposite sex, 
 and knew almost nothing in relation to such matters. 
 All the time she was responding to his requests for 
 secret meetings she despised and hated him. On 
 each occasion she assured him that she never would 
 come again, but consented, at his next request, to 
 come " just once more," and kept her word. 
 
 When the natural result followed, it was reasonable 
 that she should still be guided by his advice. He 
 told her if she obeyed him implicitly he would save 
 her, and that there was no one else who could do so. 
 He warned her that if she mentioned his name to her 
 father there would be a collision, in which Colonel 
 Newcombe would certainly receive his death wound. 
 Thus she continued, as she had been so long, a pliant 
 tool in the hands of the man who had ruined her. 
 
 Before many days he had perfected a plan. She 
 was to inform her father that the cause of her fall 
 was a young clerk in the employ of Mr. Yates. The 
 solicitor brought her a written admission of the crime, 
 signed by his clerk, and read it to her with glee. He 
 had arranged with the young man to fly the country 
 and remain away permanently, in consideration of a 
 certain sum of money. In her trepidation, Gladys 
 did not even recall the clerk's name. 
 
 When she revealed her condition to her father,
 
 284 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 giving the cause as thus arranged, the Colonel was 
 naturally on the verge of insanity. He hastened to 
 the office of the solicitor, and " as men tell things to 
 lawyers and to priests," demanded what could be 
 done. The wily Yates produced the letter of his 
 clerk, saying he had received it a few days before, 
 and had been unable to tell, from its wild language, 
 upon whom the outrage had been committed. No 
 names, it seemed, were mentioned, in this so-called 
 "confession," but its terms were sufficiently clear, in 
 connection with Colonel Newcombe's statement, to 
 locate the offender. 
 
 " What can be done ?" asked the father, distracted. 
 And the lawyer convinced him, in the course of the 
 interview, that it was one of those crimes which can 
 only be punished by inflicting much greater suffering 
 on the innocent victim. Even if Margrave could be 
 apprehended, in any part of the world to which he 
 had fled, and brought to England for trial, Miss 
 Newcombe would have to go into court and swear to 
 his conduct. This was clearly out of the question* 
 Yates also discovered, by adroit suggestions, that the 
 father would have anything happen rather than give 
 his child in marriage to a wretch of that description. 
 
 Then came the idea of finding a husband for her, 
 of a suitable position in life, and its gradual adop- 
 tion by the half-demented man, who was, in his 
 distress, so much clay in the hands of the adroit 
 plotter. 
 
 How the husband was found, Mr. Gray did not 
 need to be told. Gladys Newcombe became Mrs. 
 Gray, and what seemed like a new chance for hap- 
 piness in her wrecked life was given her.
 
 THE HISTORY OF A CRIME. 285 
 
 "But," she said, her lips trembling,"! had not 
 been married to you a week before that man's hateful 
 attentions were renewed. He managed to meet me 
 when others were not present, and to pour his awful 
 suggestions in my ears. We would be quite safe 
 now, he told me. I had your name think of that* 
 to protect me. I felt the strong influence of the 
 other days drawing at my brain, but the thought of 
 you, and the confidence you had placed in me, nerved 
 me to resist. And besides, there was the unborn life 
 for which I must keep myself pure. He never ceased 
 to persist. He came to Cannes ; he sent me letters, 
 which he knew I dared not show. He went to 
 Vienna, hiding from you, and tried to make me see 
 him. He was in Stockholm when Marianne was 
 born ! 
 
 " Yes, one of my nurses accepted his bribes. She 
 brought me a bunch of roses from him, which I 
 made her throw into the dustbin as soon as I saw his 
 card. She told me he had walked up and down an 
 adjacent street all night, and that she had sent mes- 
 sages to him every half hour, telling of my condition. 
 No doubt he had paid her handsomely ! I was help- 
 less to stop his conduct. My tongue was tied. I 
 had told one story and I dared not begin with a new 
 one. We came back to London and you left me for 
 that long stay in America. 
 
 "Do you remember I think you will never for- 
 get the night before you sailed ? I had seen him 
 that day, and he had said, with a smile of confidence, 
 that after you were gone I could no longer refuse 
 him. Up to that time you had treated me distantly, 
 with only the ordinary kindness of a friend. I was
 
 286 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 frightened to have you go, for I felt that without 
 your love to guard me, his wicked influence would 
 be more than I could resist. You came in to say, 
 coolly, that you were about to get ready for your de- 
 parture, and I fell fainting to the floor. That even- 
 ing I heard you walking about your room, making 
 your preparations. My blood mounted to my head. 
 If you left me like that I knew what the result might 
 be. At last I heard your voice, and I went into your 
 room. You thought me a dreadful creature, one 
 who ought to be ashamed of her actions, but I was 
 desperate ! Gilbert, you saved me from a fate that 
 would have been worse than death ! I parted from 
 you the next morning, strong in the belief that no 
 man could shake my fealty, and I was right. 
 
 " Your steamer could hardly have sailed from 
 Southampton when my persecutor came. For the 
 second time he began to try the efficacy of threats. 
 He said my father's investments in America were in 
 danger, and that he had it in his power to make or 
 unmake him. He had a representative in Chicago, 
 who would obey his slightest suggestion, and if I 
 still held out he intended to destroy our fortune. I 
 did not believe he had the power to do this, but if I 
 had it would have altered nothing in my behavior. 
 I was only careful not to offend him unnecessarily, 
 for I feared to provoke his anger. Whether he 
 prayed or cursed, it was the same to me now. I 
 would sooner have thrown myself into a den of 
 wild beasts than into his arms. My husband held my 
 entire love and esteem, and my heart went out to him 
 in the first blooming of that passionate flower I had 
 come so late to know.
 
 r:iK insTOBY OF A CRIME. 287 
 
 " My mother's death and my father's paralysis did 
 not move the pity of this madman. When I needed 
 the greatest consideration he forgot everything but 
 himself. He told me one day that he could save a 
 million to us if I gave the word, by a mere signal 
 over the cable. I did not even trust myself to an- 
 swer him. When you returned he kept away for a 
 short time, but soon after we came to Chicago he 
 began to dog my steps here. He wrote me that he 
 cared nothing for his reputation, his profession, his 
 friends or his family ; he wanted nothing in the 
 world but me ! Unless I submitted to him he would 
 tell you all, coupled with accusations that were not 
 even founded on fact. Then came letters alluding 
 to your interest in the Blair property. He could 
 stop your inheriting that if he were to tell what he 
 knew. For the first time I began to feel alarmed at 
 his power. He had proved that his predictions re- 
 garding my father's fortune were correct ones. 
 Were you to lose yours also? 
 
 " Mr. Margrave's claim was put in, and then Mr. 
 Yates wrote that, if I asked him to do so, he would 
 prove that claim false. In a mad hope to move hina 
 by an appeal to his manhood, I made the visit he 
 had long prayed for, to his hotel. I could have com- 
 mitted no greater error. Instead of changing his 
 attitude in the least, he seemed rather to grow 
 stronger in his purpose. He said he had ruined my 
 father, and that he would certainly ruin you unless 
 I became his mistress. He did not insist on my 
 leaving you, though that was what he most wished 
 for ; but I must give him stolen meetings whenever 
 he requested them. He gave as a new reason why
 
 288 LOVE GONE ASTEAY. 
 
 be would not resign me, that his wife had died a 
 short time before, and that he was now free to give 
 me his entire protection. Our meeting resulted in 
 nothing of value and I resolved that it should be the 
 last. Howevr, his letters began to talk of a final 
 interview, at which he would give me documentary 
 evidence that Margrave was a pretender. I was 
 weak enough to meet him once more, in my anxiety 
 to learn if this might be true. I found that he had 
 merely lured me there to renew his old proposals, 
 and I left with the direst predictions ringing in my 
 ears. 
 
 " Last week, when you accused me of having held 
 meetings with my baby's father, I believed, natural!)', 
 that you knew all. I had no reason to suppose that 
 you had referred to Mr. Margrave, or why you 
 associated his name with mine in that connection. 
 I had now but one hope to save your property. 
 I made a new appointment, and before I went to 
 keep it I purchased a bottle of laudanum. If I could 
 not make my escape with the documents he was to 
 give me I would send them to you by a messenger ; 
 and rather than be polluted by a touch of his lips I 
 would drain the poison. You know the rest. Mr. 
 Hartwell, who watched every one of my actions, and 
 heard every word uttered by either of us, knows 
 them, too." 
 
 This story was not told without a score of inter- 
 jections on the part of the distressed listener, who 
 did not doubt a single word of the narrative. He 
 said, when it was finished, that Gladys should have 
 come to him in confidence when the annoyances
 
 THE HISTORY OF A OKIMB. 289 
 
 began, and he would have found a way to put a stop 
 to them. 
 
 " But, my dear husband," she replied, u when they 
 began immediately after our marriage you were 
 almost a total stranger to me. It was nearly a year 
 before I would have dared trust you with such a secret, 
 and your love was then so new and so dear that I 
 could not bear to throw anything of an unpleasant 
 nature in its way. Since then you have had so much 
 trouble financially that I thought it my duty to bear 
 my cross alone. I kept hoping that you would come 
 into your possessions, and that we could journey to- 
 some other corner of the earth, where our lives 
 would be free from this cloud. For that I waited, 
 and for that I still hope. As long as that man knows 
 where I am, he will surely follow me." 
 
 Gray bit his lips. 
 
 " Mr. Dibbs tells me he is dying," he said. " Only 
 for that I should have gone to settle my account with 
 him before now." 
 
 She shivered. 
 
 " And do you still love me, after all ?" she asked, 
 tenderly. 
 
 " More than ever. You were ready to give your 
 life for me."
 
 290 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 EVERYTHING EXPLAINED. 
 
 WHEN Jonas Margrave was released from jail on a 
 habeas, the prosecution announcing that it would not 
 push the case against him, he went with great 
 promptness to Mr. Gray to collect the balance due 
 on his loan of five thousand dollars and accrued in- 
 terest. 
 
 " This is part of the agreement I made with Old 
 Man Dibbs," he explained, in response to the pecu- 
 liar look with which he was greeted. " It was my 
 own money, you know, honestly earned at the gam- 
 ing table, and vl'm about as near broke as I ever 
 was." 
 
 Gray opened a checkbook aad filled in the details. 
 It was true that he had borrowed this money, and 
 that it had been a great help to him at the time. 
 But he wondered greatly at the sang froid of this self- 
 confessed scoundrel, in coming for it with no sign of 
 shame in his face. 
 
 " Tell me one thing," said Gray, when he had 
 handed over the check, "how was it you ever acquired 
 such a hatred of me ? Had I ever injured you ?" 
 
 " Hatred !" echoed the other. " What do you 
 mean ? I never liked a man better, in the whole 
 course of my existence." 
 
 " If you treat your friends as you have treated me.
 
 EVERYTHIJfG EXPLAINED. 
 
 I wonder what you would do to a person you did not 
 fancy," remarked Gilbert. 
 
 Margrave protested against this form of accusa. 
 tion. 
 
 " You don't make any allowance," he answered, 
 "for the difference there is in temperaments, nor for 
 the fact that my profession makes unusual calls on 
 one's disposition. The actions of a gambler and con- 
 fidence man naturally varies in some respects from 
 that of a Sunday-school superintendent. A fish is a 
 fish if it comes to my net. It wouldn't do for me to 
 explain in advance exactly how I deal the cards 
 which are to transfer the cash on the table to my 
 pocket. Considering everything, I feel, upon my 
 word, that I have used you pretty handsomely." 
 
 The listener, with an incredulous look, asked if he 
 might be honored with a fuller explanation of this 
 seeming paradox. 
 
 " Certainly, as full as you like,' said Margrave. 
 " Let's rehearse the entire business. In Venice you 
 lent me forty dollars, didn't you ? I went out that 
 night and met the crowd who had buncoed me out of 
 my last sou the day before, and I got back all I had 
 lost and more. I might have returned you the money, 
 of course, but I knew it was like a sixpence to you, 
 and I thought I had better hold on to it awhile. 
 When I ran across you in Rome I had had big luck 
 and was living like a prince. Two hundred francs 
 seemed too small to think about. I didn't like to in- 
 sult a gentleman by mentioning such a beggarly 
 sum." 
 
 He paused, and Mr. Gray asked, with a sharp ao
 
 292 LOVE GONE A8TKAY. 
 
 cent, if he would now change the location of his 
 story to London. 
 
 " With pleasure," was the reply. " When you met 
 me there I had lost all I had, and was trying to keep 
 up appearances on wind. I had rather have seen the 
 devil that day in Hyde Park than a man to whom I 
 owed money. I was afraid of being watched, be- 
 sides, and I got rid of you as soon as I could. But I 
 waited an hour in New Bridge street that night, as I 
 had promised, and you did not come." 
 
 " Go on," said Gray. " What about the next time 
 we met ?" 
 
 " Well," answered Margrave, slowly, " you may 
 charge that to Mr. Yates. He knew something about 
 me that would send me to prison if he gave the word, 
 and I depended on him just then for the bread I ate. 
 He told me to find you and get you in a positive rage 
 toward me in some way. The manner didn't matter, 
 and I had no explanation of his reasons. I didn't 
 dare disobey him and I took the first way that pre- 
 sented itself. I rode down toward you with the idea 
 of brushing my horse against yours and of starting 
 an altercation. When the collision came it was so 
 much harder than I had intended that I was alarmed, 
 but the thing was done and I couldn't apologize with- 
 out violating my instructions. I saw that you had 
 sustained nothing worse than a sprain and that you 
 were being taken care of, and I rode away.' 
 
 Strange as the story was, Gray believed it. He 
 saw how Yates had used this man as a stool-pigeon 
 to induce him to rescue Gladys from what looked 
 Kke the danger of marrying him. It had been a
 
 EVEKTTHINQ EXPLAINED. 293 
 
 powerful makeweight at the critical moment, perhaps 
 the final ounce that made the steel touch the beam. 
 Yes, it was very clear. 
 
 " Do you know why Yates wanted you to insult 
 me ?" he asked, with an effort. 
 
 " I'm hanged if I do !" was the earnest reply. 
 '* He's given me hints since then that he could raise 
 the Old Boy with you, but I never was able to find 
 out his game. He's played a lone hand all the time, 
 and put up big stakes, and as near as I can under- 
 stand-, he's been a loser. But what it was all about 
 I don't know, and I don t suppose you are going to 
 tell me." 
 
 There was no reply to this insinuation, but Gray 
 breathed a sigh of relief that this fellow was ignor- 
 ant of his family secret. It was still confined to Yates 
 and Dibbs and Hartwell. The two latter were safe, 
 and the former would hardly make trouble now, 
 when on his deathbed. 
 
 " You were at Amsterdam," was the next thing he 
 said to the gambler. 
 
 " Yes, and I wrote you a letter asking for a loan. 
 I was hard up again, that's the entire story." 
 
 " And yet I saw you here in Chicago, a few months 
 later, with thousands of dollars to lend." 
 
 Margrave laughed 'at the perplexity of his ques- 
 tioner. 
 
 " That's not hard to explain," said he. " I ran over 
 from London to New York, and went, as usual, 
 straight to a faro bank. By an extraordinary run of 
 luck, which the fraternity in that city have not yet 
 forgotten, I carried off seventy-five thousand dollars
 
 294 LOVE GONE ASTRA.* . 
 
 in three days. With the proceeds I came here and 
 found everybody talking wheat. I made a deal with 
 a big concern, by which I was to put out a broker's 
 sign, and take applications for money at high rates. 
 All I had to do was to go into my inside office, and 
 speak to my principals over a private wire. If they 
 gave word to take the loan, I took it, paying out my 
 own money, and ten minutes later they had it off my 
 hands. My compensation was a handsome percent, 
 age. I did mighty well, but like a fool I had to put 
 my fingers into the fire against their advice. The 
 money I loaned you for Colonel Newcombe was my 
 own, and you know what became of it. It was a 
 risk that my principals declined, but I thought I 
 knew more than they did. To tell the truth, Yates 
 led me into that, for he kept wiring me from London 
 and he said the sum was safe. I think now he meant 
 I should lose it, so as to get me into his clutches 
 again." 
 
 It was an odd story. 
 
 " Was it possible for Mr. Yates, at any time, to 
 have prevented Colonel Newcombe's failure ?" asked 
 Gray, anxiously. 
 
 " Certainly not." 
 
 " And could he have done anything to hasten it ?" 
 
 " Nothing whatever." 
 
 The solicitor had been playing on Gladys' fears, 
 then, without any foundation, and had claimed to be 
 the cause of events with which he had no connection. 
 
 "When I went back to England," continued Mar- 
 grave, " I went to see Yates, and found him overjoyed 
 to learn that Colonel Newcombe had lost about the
 
 EVERYTHING EXPLAINED. 295 
 
 whole of his fortune. He didn't seem to be very 
 sorry I had lost mine, either, and he lent me twenty 
 pounds grudgingly. When I applied for more soon 
 after, he threatened me with the police, and I kept 
 out of his way for a long time. America seemed the 
 best field for my efforts and I soon returned to this 
 country. One day I ran across Yates here. He 
 asked me how I would like to inherit a handsome 
 fortune. Of course I told him I wouldn't object in 
 the least. He said if I followed his directions care- 
 fully perhaps that sort of luck would come to me. I 
 was to announce myself as Julius Margrave, and 
 claim to be my briber, 
 
 "When I remarked that Julius, who had disap- 
 peared some years before, might turn up, Yates said 
 he had heard from him, and that he was in a distant 
 country, in the last stages of consumption. It was 
 impossible that he could ever trouble me. I followed 
 his directions, and finally he came with a letter show- 
 ing that Julius was dead. He would not tell me the 
 particulars of the windfall that was to be mine, but 
 said I must leave everything to him. I had succeeded, 
 by his advice, in getting a room at your bouse, and 
 he used to ask me daily about the family. His spite 
 against you seemed to grow more and more intense, 
 but I did not see any way he could harm you. Then 
 came the letter that you intercepted, and I under- 
 stood everything. His only object in putting me in 
 the way of getting rich was to deprive you of the 
 money. I made up my mind that I would make a 
 generous deal with you, if I got possession, and you 
 remember I offered you a quarter of what I should
 
 LOVE GONE ASTRAY. 
 
 receive. Yates didn't know that, for when I found 
 how nicely things were working my way I refused to 
 have anything more to do with him." 
 
 There was no reason to doubt the history thus de- 
 tailed. In his mad pursuit of Gladys, Yates had 
 spared no one. To induce her to go to him he had 
 played every card in the pack, careless of all other 
 results. 
 
 " You lent me this five thousand dollars in a curi- 
 ous way," said Mr. Gray, after a pause. 
 
 " Yes, I had just made seven or eight thousand at 
 play, and I was afraid I should lose it if I didn't put 
 it somewhere. I thought it the safest investment to 
 lend it to an honest man like you. And besides, I was 
 out with Yates at the time and I wanted to keep him 
 from driving you to the wall, as he had so often 
 sworn to me he would do." 
 
 "You are a strange combination, Mr. Margrave. 
 Are you going through the rest of your life as you 
 have begun ? You have narrowly escaped a long 
 term in prison. Will it be a warning to you ?" 
 
 " I don't know, "was the cool reply. "I suppose 
 it depends on my luck. It's late to teach the old dog 
 many new tricks. However, I don't think I'll get 
 into any more schemes as deep as the last one. It 
 was really a little out of ray regular line." 
 
 Well, that is about the end of the story. Mr. and 
 Mrs. Gray took their children, as soon as business 
 matters could be arranged, and went for a long stay
 
 EVERYTHING EXPLAINED. 297 
 
 abroad, where they still are. I hear there's a third 
 child now. So happiness has come to them, after their 
 many misadventures ; but I don't believe Gray's ex- 
 perience would induce many men to follow in 
 steps. He took a pretty large risk. 
 
 " Yates died, of course ?" the reader will ask. 
 Yes, Yates died. 
 
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