MERCIFUL 
 
 Unto Me-A Sinner 
 
 ELINORDAW50N 


 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner.
 
 flDercfful TUnto flfte, 
 a Sinner 
 
 BY 
 
 Elinor H)awson 
 
 "The greatest attribute of heaven is mercy. 
 
 1905 
 
 CHICAGO 
 THOMPSON & THOMAS 
 
 r
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1905 
 
 BY 
 THOMPSON & THOMAS 
 
 All rights reserved
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 Man has always been granted the privilege of 
 telling his own story no matter how shocking it 
 may be to the refined senses. He has boldly set 
 out with the implied assertion that if you did not 
 want to be startled you could exercise your own 
 right of turning from him and leaving him un- 
 read. In all of the actual experiences of life there 
 rests a moral. To those who hold a contrary 
 opinion I say most frankly, go no further into 
 this record. Young women who have tried to 
 imagine how it would seem to live in a state of 
 lost modesty have given their views of things of 
 which they were happily ignorant, and we have 
 praised them for their boldness and have invited 
 them to tea. Their guesses were entertaining. 
 This book is not composed of shrewd surmises. 
 It is literal rather than literary; and it may be 
 the guilty instead of the guiltless that shall cast 
 the first stone at me. Let the indulgent reader 
 pursue this record to the end. 
 
 I have the right to deal openly and in most per- 
 fect frankness with myself, but I have no right to 
 compromise others. So, therefore, I may be com- 
 pelled occasionally to employ disguises where 
 other persons are concerned. But some of the 
 names are actual and await verification if any one 
 should choose to take that trouble. 
 
 21350S3
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE FIRST LIGHT. 
 
 The first light that I ever beheld came through 
 a window in a farm house in West Virginia, out 
 among the hills not far from Wheeling. In re- 
 membrance if not in honor of an aunt I was 
 named Elinor. The first of my recollection was 
 the act of sitting in my father's lap by the fire. 
 My mother, a weak little woman, was trying to 
 take me from him, it seemed, for he was unsteady 
 in his chair and threatened to fall with me. With- 
 out further ado I may say that my father was a 
 drunkard. It may have been a long time after 
 this, but it doesn't seem more than a day, when 
 I was taken out among a large number of peo- 
 ple, into a house, where a very tall man got up 
 and talked a long time, and then some more men 
 took up a long black burden and bore it away. 
 Then I heard mourning amid the strains of a sad 
 song. They were burying my father. After this 
 I went back into darkness and remained a hun- 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 dred years, it seemed, and when again I emerged 
 into the light it was when my mother had put a 
 new frock on me and was admiring my beauty. 
 It gave me a strange feeling of delight, and I 
 looked at myself in the glass when she held me 
 up ; and in my play that day I was careful not to 
 soil my clothes for fear that I might lose some of 
 my attractiveness. And now as the days passed 
 I lived not to play with other girls, but to be 
 beautiful, reaping my enjoyment in hearing peo- 
 ple refer to me as " such a pretty child." I had 
 not inherited a pleasant temper, and was inclined 
 to be cross, but when my mother told me that to 
 make faces would spoil my beauty, I was ready 
 to suffer in order to smile, though I might be 
 boiling with anger. I remember a pair of drop- 
 stitch stockings that mother bought for me, white 
 and silken. And when the peddler who sold them 
 was gone I put them on and sat nearly all day 
 in the house, afraid that I might soil them if I 
 should venture out. 
 
 At a village called West Liberty there was a 
 boarding school, and here my education was be- 
 gun. I rode a pony that was the envy of all the 
 little girls and I was proud and happy. My hair 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 and eyes were so black that they nicknamed me 
 Gypsy. At first I was resentful, but when I un- 
 derstood that it must mean something full of a 
 wild sort of beauty, I was pleased. So was my 
 mother, and it was by that name that she ever 
 afterward addressed me. I remember that one 
 Sunday a man whom I had seen a number of 
 times walked home from church with mother and 
 me. As he was helping me over the stile, where 
 we crossed the meadow, he wanted to take me 
 into his arms, and I objected, not because I did 
 not like him, but for fear that he would rumple 
 my dress; and I told him as I drew back that I 
 was almost thirteen and that he must treat me 
 as a young lady. Hereupon my mother scowled 
 at me and said that I was not so old as that. She 
 said that I wasn't more than eleven, and I thought 
 it strange until it dawned upon me that she want- 
 ed the man to think her younger than she was. 
 After this I noticed that she took more care of 
 herself, although she was always fond of finery 
 and perfumery. One day when I came home 
 from school I saw mother and the man walking 
 in the garden, and when they thought that no one 
 was looking they became very " loving," walking 
 
 II
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 hand in hand. When he kissed her I laughed, 
 and he turned about and saw me. But he wasn't 
 frightened, and neither was my mother. She 
 called me to her and kissed me ever so many 
 times, and told me that the man was going to be 
 my father. I didn't see how this could be, but 
 as they seemed to know more about it than I did, 
 I did not dispute with them. The man kept a 
 store several miles away, and as I had seen some 
 bright pieces of cloth in his place I thought it 
 would be fortunate to have him for a father. 
 Well, they were married, and he was a father 
 sure enough never was cross with me, but al- 
 ways told me how pretty I was ; and he brought 
 me many things to wear. 
 
 My Aunt Elinor had married an insurance 
 man. They lived in Chicago. He died and then 
 Aunt kept a boarding house. Many a time she 
 wrote to me and begged me to visit her, but I 
 couldn't very well. There was always money 
 enough to buy finery for me, but never enough to 
 send me away. But when I had been graduated 
 from the school I urged mother to let me go 
 to Chicago. She then intimated that some day 
 I might go on a bridal tour, and this made me 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 laugh, for I had often told her that there was 
 no young man in the neighborhood that I liked 
 well enough to marry. Then she spoke of a man 
 named Pague, a man who had something to do 
 with coal mines and who was at least ten years 
 older than my step-father. 
 
 " But you don't surely mean that you would 
 like for me to marry him," I said. " Why, he is 
 nearly old enough to be my grandfather." 
 
 " Age is nothing and sentiment is everything," 
 she replied. " He has told me that he loves you 
 devotedly, and he is a truthful man. Haven't I 
 brought you up with the greatest care ? Haven't 
 I done all that I could to make you beautiful? 
 And what is beauty worth what object could it 
 be if you are going to throw it away on a poor 
 man? You marry Mr. Pague and he will take 
 you to the World's Fair." 
 
 " But I don't like him. He chews tobacco and 
 isn't neat, and he looks so old and wrinkled. 
 When I marry, the man must be handsome." 
 
 She flew into a passion. When my step-father 
 came home she told him that I didn't have any 
 sense. He looked at her a moment and said: 
 " Well, I guess she is pretty much as you have 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 made her, except that she has gone a little further 
 than you intended. She sets a higher price on 
 her beauty than you expected. But as for old 
 Pague, I want to tell you, madam, that he's an 
 old fool and as close as the bark on a tree." 
 
 In her anger she flew at him and declared that 
 he was a brute and had poisoned my mind. She 
 shut herself up and vowed that she would starve 
 rather than to eat at the table with either one of 
 us. But he was good-tempered and smiled over 
 it all, and I felt sorry for him. He was a man 
 of more than ordinary intelligence, had been edu- 
 cated for a doctor, but never having been able to 
 make a living at the practice, had taken to a 
 commercial life. But even in this he was not a 
 success, for he made an assignment not long 
 after his quarrel with mother, or rather her quar- 
 rel with him. Then he tried to run the farm, and 
 he worked hard, but didn't know how to manage. 
 One day old Pague called and asked to see me, 
 and rather than to have another scene with 
 mother I went into the parlor where he sat, 
 twirling his skinny thumbs. It would have 
 seemed that to me it were a matter of indifference 
 whether or not I appeared well before him, but 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 I couldn't resist the temptation to give myself a 
 few touches before the glass. When I entered 
 the room he looked up with a yellow light in his 
 old eyes, and told me that he had brought me a 
 present. Then he began to unwrap something 
 rolled in a red handkerchief, and after a while 
 he discovered an old silver watch almost as large 
 as a saucer. He said that it had been the property 
 of his grandfather and that I was the only one 
 on earth that was entitled to it. I asked him why 
 it was that such an honor belonged to me, and he 
 smirked and smiled and said that it was because 
 he was in love with me and wanted me to be his 
 wife. I was bold enough to tell him that it was 
 not generosity that prompted him to give so valu- 
 able a piece of property to one whom he was 
 going to marry, for in that event he could get it 
 back again ; and he laughed like the cackle of an 
 old hen, and said that I was not only beautiful, 
 but witty. I heard my mother clearing her throat 
 in the hall-way, and I knew that she meant this 
 as a threat that it would not be well for me unless 
 I brought matters to a satisfactory conclusion. 
 
 " Gypsy," he said, " I am worth more than a 
 hundred thousand dollars," and at this my mother 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 was seized with so distressful a dryness of the 
 throat that I thought she must surely need help ; 
 so I went out to her, but with violent gestures 
 she drove me back. Old Pague repeated the as- 
 sertion that he was worth one hundred thousand 
 dollars, and waited for me to announce my sur- 
 prise, but I said nothing. " That much money 
 will always keep you from want," he said. 
 
 " Yes, if I had it," said I. 
 
 " Be my wife and you shall have it." 
 
 I wanted the money. I was mean enough to 
 Say to myself that he could not live a great while 
 longer and that then I could travel and finally 
 marry to please myself. I had been called warm 
 and passionate. But now I was cold and calcu- 
 lating. And I was just about to ask him if he 
 would settle that amount on me when my step- 
 father called me. He was not in the hall-way, 
 but in the yard close to the house. I went out to 
 him. " No matter what that old wretch swears 
 to, don't believe it," he said. " There is a trick 
 in everything he does. He can outwit the 
 shrewdest lawyer in the county." 
 
 My mother came walking out toward us. She 
 was fuming with wrath and struggling to subdue 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 her voice so as not to be overheard by old Pague, 
 she said : " Samuel, you have nothing to do with 
 this affair. This is my daughter and she shall 
 do as I please." 
 
 " Why not let her do in this matter as she 
 pleases ? " he replied. 
 
 ' That, sir, is not to be considered. She is my 
 daughter." 
 
 " But is she old enough to marry ? Remember 
 that she wasn't but a little more than eleven when 
 you and I were married." 
 
 " It makes no difference what she was then, 
 she is past seventeen now. Gypsy, go into the 
 house and tell Mr. Pague to settle that one hun- 
 dred thousand on you." 
 
 My step-father put forth his hand as if he 
 would detain me. " Samuel," said my mother, 
 " if you try to keep her back, that ends it between 
 you and me. You may take the nothing that you 
 brought with you and go whenever you feel dis- 
 posed to counsel my daughter to disobey me." 
 
 My step-father turned about and walked off 
 and I went back into the house. Old Pague was 
 twirling his thumbs. " Are you quite sure that 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 you will settle that amount of money on me? " I 
 asked. 
 
 " Just as sure as I live." 
 
 " Without any trickery? " I inquired. 
 
 He laughed and said that where any one loved 
 as deeply as he did there could be no trickery. 
 " Before the ceremony is performed I will sign 
 over to you property to the amount of one hun- 
 dred thousand dollars," said he ; and I heard the 
 creaking of mother's shoes and I knew that she 
 was in the hall-way, listening. 
 
 " Will you give me a few days to think over 
 it ? " I asked, and he nodded his frosted head and 
 replied : 
 
 " Yes, until a week from to-day next 
 Wednesday." 
 
 He arose and wished to seal the understanding 
 with a kiss, but I drew back from him, and in 
 my heart there arose a rebellion, a revulsion such 
 as I had never felt before. We are all of us born 
 with the instinct of love's passion. In the imag- 
 ined kiss the lips are ever warm. But here was 
 snow, and I shuddered. " How can you wish to 
 marry me when you know that it is for the money 
 that I agree, if I ever do agree ? " I said ; and he 
 
 18
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 replied : ' You will learn to love me when you 
 find how warm my heart is." 
 
 An old brain may be wise, but an old heart is 
 the home of silliness. He took his leave of me, 
 and when he was clear of the house mother took 
 me into her arms and kissed me and called me a 
 good girl. There is one human being that can be 
 weaker than an old man a vain mother.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 EVERYTHING ARRANGED. 
 
 The life which is to come begins with the 
 life which was. I enter into details not as an ex- 
 cuse of the folly which is to come, but to show, as 
 no doubt it often has been shown, that the cradle 
 hand must have been weak or strong. I believe 
 in heredity, but heredity is in the hands of train- 
 ing and is subservient. Some of the children of 
 error, left upon doorsteps, have turned out to be 
 the strongest of men and women. This life is 
 shaped by a mother's weakness or a mother's 
 strength. By mother I mean the one who may 
 not have given us life in the beginning, but the 
 one whose character forms ours. My mother was 
 a weak woman. She was cursed with beauty. 
 To her a dimple was of more value than an idea. 
 There was no idea except the idea of looks. I 
 remember that long after her second marriage 
 she wore shoes that were too small for her. Her 
 desire was to please the eye to make it envious, 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 and in this lay her happiness. Her mind shaped 
 my own. 
 
 But I could not agree to marry old Pague. On 
 the following Wednesday night he came to our 
 house. It was in early March and sleet was driv- 
 ing sharp against the window panes. All day 
 I had been expecting him, and all day I had been 
 wavering. Along about five o'clock in the even- 
 ing a negro boy came with a note from him, tell- 
 ing me that he had been detained by business, 
 but that he would surely come before eight 
 o'clock. Mother had been anxious and her spirits 
 had drooped. Samuel had remained in his gar- 
 ret room engaged in some sort of carpenter work. 
 I could hear him shoving his plane, and I fancied 
 that I heard the shavings slowly falling on the 
 floor. When the note came from Pague mother 
 was greatly relieved. She insisted upon dressing 
 my hair, and I sat before the fire while she ten- 
 derly plied the brush and comb. I looked up into 
 her face and saw that she was happy. I had led 
 her to believe that I would accept the old mummy. 
 
 " Mother," I said, " I was thinking if you 
 wouldn't be just as happy if you knew that for 
 one hundred thousand dollars I was to be buried
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 away over yonder in that old field where my 
 father sleeps." 
 
 She put her cheek against mine. How little 
 of strength, how wanting in character affection 
 may be ! How brightly may shine a selfish love. 
 " Gypsy, how can you talk that way when I love 
 you so? " she said. " You know that your happi- 
 ness is the aim of my life. How can you talk that 
 way?" 
 
 " But you aren't consulting my happiness. I 
 would like to love the man I marry." 
 
 " Bah," she said, letting the brush fall on the 
 floor. She stooped to get it and I waited for her 
 to say more, not that I expected it to be of inter- 
 est, but I waited from habit. " Love on the part 
 of a man is a matter of a few months," she said ; 
 and I heard Samuel slowly shoving his plane. 
 " A man is an animal," she went on, " and he 
 loves just as an animal does." 
 
 " But doesn't a woman love that way, too?" 
 I inquired, glancing up into her face. 
 
 " Some women, perhaps," she said. 
 
 " Mother, what is virtue on the part of a 
 woman ? " 
 
 " Now, Gypsy, don't be foolish." 
 
 22
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " But I want to know." 
 
 "Well, don't you know?" 
 
 " How should I know? Who has ever taught 
 me ? If beauty is everything, why then to satisfy 
 the demands of beauty is virtue, isn't it ? " 
 
 " You don't know what you're talking about." 
 
 " But mother, I want to know what I'm talking 
 about. What is virtue ? " 
 
 " It is marrying some one and behaving your- 
 self." 
 
 " How behaving? Staying at home while your 
 husband is away drunk ? " 
 
 " Now, Gypsy, who said anything about 
 drunk?" 
 
 " But my father was a drunkard. And were 
 you virtuous ? " 
 
 She dropped both the brush and the comb. She 
 did not stoop to recover them, and I took them 
 off the floor and handed them to her. She 
 thought me silly, but I was striving to be wise. 
 After a time she spoke again. 
 
 " No one can say anything against my char- 
 acter," she said. 
 
 " But what do you understand as character ? 
 It surely isn't marrying an old man for his money. 
 
 23
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 You say that a man loves like an animal. Per- 
 haps I do, too. We don't love with our minds, 
 but with our hearts our bodies. And if we love 
 one, in that way, it must be virtue. If I give 
 myself to a man whom I do not love, that cannot 
 be virtue not as virtuous as the animals." 
 
 " I see that Samuel has been talking to you 
 and you have been reading those good-for-noth- 
 ing books. Such trash is the ruination of a girl's 
 mind." 
 
 . " But the books I have been reading were writ- 
 ten by women." 
 
 " Ugly women," said mother. She leaned over 
 me and laughed. Ah, what a contempt she had 
 for plainness. How she sighed over her misfor- 
 tunes which were that she had married poor 
 men both times. She condemned me for reading 
 books written by ugly women. She found her 
 greatest 'pleasure in looking at the fashion plates 
 of the worn magazines that lay about the house. 
 
 " He will soon be here," she said as she finished 
 her work and stood off to admire me. " Ah, think 
 what a great thing it will be to have one hundred 
 thousand dollars and to travel; and after a 
 while" 
 
 24
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " When he is dead," I put in. 
 
 " Yes, when he is dead," she said without the 
 slightest embarrassment, " you and I will go 
 abroad and see some of the grand things of this 
 earth. I wonder if that clock is right. Nearly 
 eight. He ought to be here soon. Hush, I think 
 I hear his horse." 
 
 It was his horse. Mother opened the door and 
 stood there, holding the lamp. Mr. Pague came 
 in, stamping his feet. He smiled upon me, as he 
 and I followed mother, who walked on into the 
 parlor, carrying the light. In the parlor the fire 
 had begun to burn well, and the room was cheer- 
 ful, with the sleet still cutting at the windows. 
 Mother lighted the hanging lamp and went out, 
 carrying the hand lamp with her ; and I " heard " 
 her standing in the hall-way; she did not seem 
 to move or to make any noise, but I heard her in 
 her silence, and I knew that she was waiting for 
 the words of encouragement. Pague warmed 
 himself before the fire, turning his great feet this 
 way and that ; he rubbed his hands and declared 
 that it was a bad night on dumb cattle. I could 
 hear mother in her silence, standing in the hall. 
 
 25
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 She had put out her lamp, or had taken it into the 
 sitting room and returned. 
 
 " Well," said Pague, and then I heard mother's 
 shoes creak. She was moving closer to the door. 
 I waited, but after saying " well " Pague was 
 silent, looking at me as if he expected me to fin- 
 ish the sentence for him. 
 
 " I have thought over your proposition," said I. 
 
 He thanked me and warmed his hands by the 
 fire. " And what have you decided ? " 
 
 " That I will marry you." 
 
 " I thank you. Oh, you are sensible as well as 
 beautiful. How soon ? " 
 
 " As soon as you feel disposed to settle the 
 property on me." 
 
 " That can be done at once," he said, smiling. 
 " Would you like to live in Wheeling? " 
 
 I told him that I should prefer to live there un- 
 less he might desire some larger city. He said 
 that it did not make so much difference where 
 he lived, so long as he lived with me. " Silence " 
 ceased to come in from the hall-way and I knew 
 that mother had gone happy to her room. He 
 talked a long time and I thought that he never 
 would go. He told me about his business affairs, 
 
 26
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 and though he intended that I should think him 
 broad, yet I could not help but see him narrow 
 and mean. When at last he arose to go he said 
 that if I did not feel disposed to enter into the 
 business arrangements, that part of our " love af- 
 fair " could be transacted by my mother. I knew 
 well that she would see to it and in this arrange- 
 ment I felt perfectly safe. Again he wanted to 
 kiss me, but I simply could not let him touch my 
 lips with his corn husks, and I drew away from 
 him, but he came near as I was bidding him good 
 night at the door and put his arm about me, and 
 I shuddered. But I was determined to keep my 
 part of the contract. Mother had been waiting 
 for him to go, and when he was gone, she flew 
 to me and wept over me. I heard Samuel coming 
 down the stairs. He came into the sitting room 
 and sat down, looking tired ; and after a time he 
 asked me if everything had been settled. I looked 
 toward mother and Samuel nodded his head, 
 knowing that the contract was as good as signed. 
 
 " When is it to be ? " he inquired, and I looked 
 at mother. 
 
 " What is the use of putting it off? " she said. 
 
 " None that I can see," said Samuel. " When 
 
 27
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 we have decided to commit suicide, why, the soon- 
 er the better." 
 
 " Fortunately, you have nothing to do with 
 these arrangements," said mother; and after he 
 had sat for a time in silence, he said to mother: 
 " And you are going to live with her, I suppose." 
 
 " Live with her ? What do you mean ? " 
 
 " I mean that you surely don't care to live here 
 alone." 
 
 " Still I don't understand you." 
 
 " I mean that as soon as she marries that old 
 fool I'll leave this house, never to return." 
 
 She looked at him with no love in her eyes and 
 he sat there in silence, waiting for me to say 
 something, I supposed. But now I saw myself 
 by so wretched a light that I didn't know what 
 to say. I didn't say anything. I went to my 
 room, leaving them to sit there and stare at each 
 other. But when I came down the next morning 
 they both seemed to be in good humor. That day 
 mother went with Pague to the court house and 
 when she returned she said that everything had 
 been arranged. 
 
 28
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 CONGRATULATED HER. 
 
 Among my girl friends was Olive Peyton. We 
 were nearly of the same age, and at school we 
 had been classmates. In style we were directly 
 opposite, and this was perhaps the reason that we 
 were so close in friendship. She was redheaded 
 and blue-eyed, lively and of a sweet disposition. 
 But she, too, had been brought up to believe that 
 all of a woman's charm and especially all of her 
 power in this life centered in her looks. She was 
 just miserable enough at home to be happy in 
 talking about it when she was away. Her mother 
 had been my mother's rival for the " belleship " 
 of the county, and it was too much to expect that 
 they could ever be friends. But there was never 
 any objection raised against the intimacy that ex- 
 isted between Olive and me. And so, when my 
 marriage had been settled upon I hastened over 
 to tell her. The Peytons lived in an old brick 
 house, red amid the green cedars. Before the 
 
 29
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 war it had been quite a lordly place, and there 
 were negro cabins in the yard. Peyton was a 
 tobacco buyer and was sometimes away from 
 home, and I wished that he was on this occasion, 
 and such proved to be the case. He had a way 
 of looking at me that I didn't quite understand. 
 But he must have liked me, for I remember that 
 once he said that if his wife should die he would 
 choose me as her successor. He was joking, of 
 course, but he looked at me in a queer way. Olive 
 told me that there had been a scandal in her 
 father's life, and that her mother had never quite 
 forgiven him. You may think that it was a bad 
 state of affairs for so quiet a country neighbor- 
 hood, and perhaps it was. I am simply giving the 
 facts as I remember them writing the one book 
 which they say is the inheritance of every man 
 and especially of every woman. 
 
 From her window Olive saw me coming and 
 ran out to meet me. She had something to tell 
 me about a young man that was of late coming 
 to see her. The parents objected to him and this 
 sweetened the affair. The young people had es- 
 tablished a postoffice in a hollow tree. They wrote 
 to each other several times a day. Olive had just 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 received a letter, and what made it more interest- 
 ing, her mother suspected that she had it. The 
 young man was said to be wild. That was de- 
 licious. He had been drunk in the village, and 
 this gave Olive something to think about and to 
 grieve over in the evening when the bats were 
 flying through the dun air. We kissed each 
 other, and how warm and soft were her lips. I 
 thought of old Pague's corn husks. In her room 
 we had talked over her postoffice, and she had 
 read me her letter before I told her of my ap- 
 proaching marriage. No matter how I turned it 
 about or mused over it I couldn't make it roman- 
 tic, and I found embarrassment in getting down 
 to it. 
 
 " And now, dear," she said, " what have you 
 got to tell me?" 
 
 She knew that something was on my mind. I 
 must have shown it. I told her finally, and she 
 hugged me or rather hugged at me, for she knew 
 old Pague and couldn't work up much enthusi- 
 asm. 
 
 " But are you really going to marry him? " she 
 asked. 
 
 31
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 "Why, yes; it has been settled, don't you 
 know?" 
 
 " I know, dear, but such things are never set- 
 tled until they are ; and then it is too late. Your 
 mother ought to be ashamed of herself." 
 
 We often talked about our mothers, and as I 
 look back now I can't help feeling that we had 
 a cause, although it must have been wrong. What 
 a difference a real woman would have made in 
 our lives. 
 
 " Yes, I know she ought," I replied. 
 
 " She is going to sell you just as our grand- 
 fathers did their negroes." 
 
 " Yes, just the same." 
 
 " Except that you give your consent," said 
 Olive. 
 
 " Yes, to keep from having trouble. But no 
 matter what I do there will be trouble. Father 
 threatens to leave home and never to come back if 
 I marry the old fool." 
 
 "Gypsy," she said, "why don't you run 
 away? " 
 
 "Why, what have I to run with, and where 
 have I to run to?" 
 
 32
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " But I'd die before I'd marry that old wretch/' 
 she said. " Why, he's disgusting." 
 
 " Yes, I know that. But he might not live 
 long." 
 
 She was beautiful and she was heartless in a 
 way. Man was our natural prey. In some vague 
 sort of fashion we had a notion of motherhood. 
 In health and in full blood we knew the meaning 
 of love, even if it were as animals knew it, but 
 honor was lacking. I say it to my shame, but 
 I did not know the real meaning of the word 
 honor. I knew that honesty meant not to steal, 
 but I did not know that to sell myself, even though 
 the sale were attended by a ceremony, was just as 
 much of a fall from virtue as it would have been 
 for bread without the ceremony. If ceremony 
 makes virtue, then God help us. The women 
 whom I knew were not happy with their hus- 
 bands. Was marriage really a failure? If so, 
 one failure was as bad as another, and an old 
 failure might be no worse than one of a younger 
 brand. These thoughts dragged through my 
 mind as I talked to Olive. And yet, so far as 
 either of us knew, we were pure. But real purity 
 does not mean bodily cleanliness only. It means 
 
 33
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 cleanliness of mind, nobility of thought; but of 
 this we knew nothing. The guiding hand of vir- 
 tue had not trained our lives. You may think 
 that I am preaching. But wait before pronounc- 
 ing judgment and see if I have not a cause. This 
 book is written for mothers, as well as for girls. 
 
 Olive was not shocked when I said that the 
 old man might not live long. Between our two 
 souls there could be no disguise. So, why at- 
 tempt it?" 
 
 " He might not live long, and yet too long," 
 she said. " You remember our classmate." She 
 mentioned the name of a girl whom we both had 
 loved. " She married an old man who was 
 thought to be rich. He died in debt and left her 
 with three children." This set me to thinking. 
 In a way we were innocent, but not wholly ig- 
 norant. 
 
 " Horrible," I said. " But what am I to do? " 
 
 " Marry some one of the boys." 
 
 ' There is not one that is worth picking up out 
 of the road." 
 
 She knew that this was almost true. The 
 young men as they grew up went away to the 
 West, those who were anything to speak of; and 
 
 34
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 besides there was no romance about a fellow who 
 had all his life lived in one place. Olive's young 
 man had come from old Virginia and this alone 
 freed him from the charge of unprogressive dull- 
 ness. But the others were progressively dull. 
 They became duller as the days passed, and to 
 think of marrying one of them was simply out of 
 all sensible question. 
 
 We heard Olive's mother coming up the stairs 
 and changed the subject. Mrs. Peyton asked 
 after my mother and wondered why she had not 
 been over to see her, and finally she asked me if 
 it were true that Mr. Pague was coming to see 
 me. Then, without further ado, I told her my 
 story and she smiled upon me and said that it was 
 a good match. " He is a very rich man, my dear," 
 she said, " and I am glad that your mother had 
 the good sense to insist. I have been a girl my- 
 self, and I know that girls don't know what's 
 good for them." 
 
 " But wasn't there such a thing as sentiment 
 when you were a girl ? " I inquired, and she 
 looked surprised. " Sentiment ! Why, of course, 
 and there's sentiment now. Didn't you just tell 
 
 35
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 me that you were going to be married? And 
 what is that but sentiment ? " 
 
 " But is it sentiment if I don't love him? " 
 " Love him ! " And now she was more aston- 
 ished than before. " How could it be possible 
 that you should not love him when he is to settle 
 a hundred thousand dollars on you? Now look 
 around this neighborhood at the different women 
 and you will find that all of them married for 
 what they thought was love. And what did it 
 amount to? Nothing worry and hard work. 
 The sort of love that you are thinking about is a 
 disease. Let it alone and it cures itself, but at- 
 tempt to cure it with marriage, and misery is al- 
 most certain to follow. I don't believe there ever 
 was a girl who refused to marry a rich man that 
 didn't at some time regret it. The love that the 
 poor man gives does not compensate. And your 
 love for him means slavery. Why is it that all 
 of the women who married for old fashioned love 
 want their daughters to marry rich ; where is the 
 father that wants his son to marry a poor girl? 
 He actually questions the respectability of the 
 poor girl. If it were Olive I would see that she 
 married him, I can tell you that." 
 
 36
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " Well, I just wouldn't," Olive spoke up. 
 
 Mrs. Peyton turned to me and said: " Don't 
 let what she says have any weight with you. You 
 marry Mr. Pague and amount to something." 
 
 There seemed to be no way out of it, and I went 
 home in a depressed state of mind. My mother 
 asked me what Mrs. Peyton had said, and when 
 I had told her she remarked : " She's got more 
 sense than I thought she had." 
 
 On the following Sunday Pague came to our 
 house and it seemed that he would never go away 
 again. He talked about coal mines and labor 
 troubles and hard times, but would occasionally 
 brighten up with the remark that I should never 
 want for anything. This led me to believe that 
 he was not sure of his fortune, and when he was 
 gone I spoke to mother about it, but she laughed 
 in a cunning way and said that she was sure of 
 his wealth. 
 
 The days passed and they were making my 
 wedding clothes. The girls of the neighborhood 
 made no secret of their sympathy for me, but the 
 married women were always ready with their 
 congratulations. One day while mother was busy 
 with a dressmaker, Samuel found an opportunity 
 
 37
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 to talk to me. She kept a close watch on him, 
 never permitting us to be alone ; but on this occa- 
 sion she was taken off her guard. The weather 
 had turned warm and we were out in the yard. 
 " And you are really going to marry him, 
 Gypsy? " he said. 
 
 " I don't see any way out of it," I replied. 
 
 " But there is a way out of it. When your 
 clothes are done, take them and steal away to your 
 aunt in Chicago." 
 
 His words sent a thrill through me. " You 
 would be simply taking what belongs to you," he 
 said. " You have your aunt's address. You want 
 to visit the Fair, and you can remain in Chicago 
 during the entire time. Your mother is insane 
 on the subject of money. She would have you 
 believe that all other women are the same way, 
 but it is not true. There are millions of women 
 who would not sell themselves to save their lives. 
 I will give you enough to pay your fare to Chi- 
 cago." 
 
 I think that it might have been easy enough 
 to dismiss his words had not Pague come to see 
 me that night. His very presence was an out- 
 rage upon my modesty. He tried to be senti- 
 
 38
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 mental and was silly. It was said that his wife 
 had worked herself to death, and I asked him 
 about her; and he said that she was an ignorant 
 though a good woman and had never been a 
 companion to him. I wondered why he spoke of 
 her ignorance, since his own mind had been so 
 dwarfed; but I have since then noticed that if a 
 man has saved his money, when even in doing 
 so he may have denied himself the necessities of 
 life, he thinks that it was an intelligence or some 
 superiority of mind that did it. Pague wanted 
 me to go to church with him that night, and as 
 my mother insisted, I went. The minister 
 preached on love; said that God was love, and 
 after the sermon congratulated me on my ap- 
 proaching marriage. Everybody knew of it, and 
 I blushed until it seemed that I had no more mod- 
 esty left to burn up. The church was not far 
 from our house and we walked, mother behind us, 
 happy, too, I felt, for occasionally she would 
 break forth into song. Ah, some hearts can sing 
 over a coffin if there were gold in it. She left 
 us standing at the gate hurried into the house 
 as if to give Pague an opportunity to kiss me; 
 and he tried to, but I was not yet quite ready to 
 
 39
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 surrender all sense of shame. But I suffered him 
 to put his arm about me, and he pressed me up 
 close to him, and it was the disgust of this mo- 
 ment that determined me to act upon the advice 
 given by Samuel. 
 
 But how was I to get my trunk away from the 
 house ? It was easy enough to go into Wheeling, 
 on a pretense of wanting to buy something, but 
 that was a settlement of only a part of the diffi- 
 culty. I found occasion to speak to Samuel, and 
 his expression was that he was " up a stump." 
 But fortune or misfortune favored me. Mother 
 was called over to visit a woman who was not 
 expected to live, and this was my opportunity. 
 Samuel engaged a negro with an express wagon 
 and I left home about noon-time. That night I 
 slept on a train bound for the West. 
 
 40
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 ANOTHER OLD MAN. 
 
 Aunt Elinor was my father's sister. Her let- 
 ters to me had always been kind, and I knew that 
 she wanted me to visit her, for she had repeatedly 
 urged me to come, but I could not settle in my 
 mind as to how she would receive me now, a rebel 
 and a runaway ; but I knew that she must applaud 
 me when she knew that I had too much sentiment 
 to sell myself to a disgusting old man. I had 
 never been more than a few miles from home, 
 and now to be rushing alone toward a world new 
 and dangerous was full of a most delicious ad- 
 venture. The thought of going for the first time 
 into a great city had no terror for me, such as in 
 books had been pictured in the minds of defense- 
 less maidens. It was somewhat of a call upon 
 modesty to go to bed in a sleeping car, and I lay 
 down with all my clothes on. I was stared at by 
 men and rather haughtily gazed at by women,
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 but this was a part of my education and caused 
 me no uneasiness. 
 
 Aunt Elinor's boarding house was in Ellis ave- 
 nue, not far from the World's Fair grounds. And 
 just before reaching Chicago I gave my brass 
 check to an omnibus man and bought a ticket 
 that entitled me to a ride in his conveyance. The 
 month was June and the weather seemed raw 
 to me. I hardly know what my impressions were 
 as I was driven through the streets. I had a 
 dread of being thought from the country and I 
 was afraid to look about me. An old lady in the 
 'bus asked me if I expected to remain long in the 
 city, and I told her that I was just returning home 
 from boarding school, that I lived in Chicago. 
 So I entered the town with a lie. 
 
 As I had not informed Aunt Elinor of my in- 
 tention to come so soon, she was taken completely 
 by surprise. She gave me a real welcome, but 
 this was not of nearly so much moment as the 
 look of surprise with which she regarded me. I 
 knew that she was struck with my appearance, 
 and with a woman, even among women, this is 
 always the first victory. She said that she was 
 so sorry that my mother had not come with me, 
 
 42
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 and I knew that she was glad. It was about 
 noon-time when I arrived, and soon, at the table, 
 I was introduced to a number of people. It was 
 a pleasure whenever my aunt emphasized the fact 
 that I was her only niece. I told her that many 
 of the people in our neighborhood said that I 
 resembled her when she was of my age. She said 
 that she thought herself that a resemblance could 
 be traced. Her eyes were blue and mine black. 
 A chilling rain fell during the afternoon; and 
 so, instead of going at once to the Fair, which I 
 longed to do, I was forced to remain within doors. 
 The house was rather old fashioned and there 
 was a grate in my room. My aunt sat with me 
 and talked for a long time, mainly about her 
 troubles. She had thought that her husband was 
 rich, but he had died poor, leaving her to shift 
 for herself. I remarked that she seemed to be 
 shifting well, and she sighed and said that years 
 ago she could have married a man of unques- 
 tioned fortune. And thus came my opportunity 
 to tell her what I had done. I expected her to 
 take me into her arms and commend me for my 
 bravery, but she didn't; she said that I had un- 
 
 43
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 doubtedly thrown away a fine chance to be some- 
 thing in the world. 
 
 " But how could I be anything as the wife of 
 that old man?" 
 
 She looked at me as if she pitied my ignor- 
 ance. " Old men don't live always," she said. And 
 so there it was again, speculating upon death. 
 She said that I could have come on my bridal 
 tour and remained during the entire time of the 
 Fair. I wondered if this were an insinuation that 
 I could not remain long at her house. 
 
 That night I wrote to my mother and as nearly 
 as I could, tearfully begged her forgiveness. Just 
 before I had sealed the letter Aunt came into the 
 room, and, knowing what I was about, requested 
 me to add a few lines for her. I did so, and they 
 were not complimentary to my judgment in leav- 
 ing home. " And this is not all you ought to 
 write," she said. " Take my advice and write to 
 Mr. Pague and request him to meet you here, at 
 my house." I begged her hard to exempt me 
 from this sore task, and as she was not wholly 
 devoid of heart, she consented. But she would 
 not give in that I was right. " It is a girl's duty 
 to herself to make the most of her beauty," she 
 
 44
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 said, gazing into the fire as if she were viewing 
 the ashes of a lost opportunity. " If nature has 
 made her attractive it was for a purpose. If a 
 girl is willing to give her youth and her beauty 
 in exchange for money, there is no robbery." 
 
 " Except perhaps to herself," I said. 
 
 " Herself ! " she emphasized. " My dear, 
 beauty has always been marketable. Men know 
 this they expect it. Haven't we the example of 
 the very best society ? Don't rich girls buy titles ? 
 Don't they give their money and their physical 
 charms to decrepit old dukes ? " 
 
 " Then there is no such thing as virtue," said I. 
 
 " Without money ? Very little," she replied, 
 without a ruffle of countenance. " What you 
 know as virtue lives in romances and on the stage. 
 It lives until the book is closed or until the cur- 
 tain is rung down on the last act. Take this big 
 town, supposed to be the very center of American 
 democracy. And what do you find? Nine- 
 tenths of the mothers hunting money for their 
 daughters. Oh, neither age nor disease cuts any 
 figure. If a girl marries for money she has made 
 a good match. Her friends never think of con- 
 demning her. They know that she has done well. 
 
 45
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 But let her marry poor and they pity her. Take 
 the newspapers. What do you find? The pic- 
 tures of girls who have been bought." 
 
 " But why shouldn't I agree to sell myself for 
 a certain length of time ? " said I, and then I 
 added : " If the whole world has agreed to pros- 
 titution, why not be more virtuous than the rest 
 of mankind and agree to live with a man, say for 
 five or ten months. I have read that society was 
 bad, but I couldn't conceive that it was wholly 
 diseased. I am not more romantic than the most 
 of young women. In fact, I am hardly romantic 
 at all. I am possessed of plain, common sense, 
 and I am constantly called upon to put it aside 
 and acknowledge myself a legitimate prey of man. 
 It seems that the world has gone sex mad. Even 
 at school we were not exactly taught that money 
 was everything, but in a way we were constantly 
 shown that it was. And the highest province of 
 money is to buy bodies and to permit the souls 
 to wander astray." 
 
 I had signed my letters Gypsy when I wrote 
 to my Aunt, thoughtlessly at first, and, although 
 I was named for her she rather liked the nick- 
 name, it fitted so well; and she said to me:
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " Gypsy, I don't think that what reading you have 
 done has been of the best. You have hunted for 
 opinions when you ought to have sought cultiva- 
 tion. Men don't want women with opinions. I 
 know that my opinions have hurt me. Oh, before 
 I forget it, let me tell you about the Judge I intro- 
 duced you to. He is from Iowa and is a widower, 
 and is worth all kinds of money." 
 
 I knew that she had set her cap for him and 
 had failed. I waited for her to proceed. " I saw 
 him looking at you and I know that you could 
 win him." 
 
 " Do you mean the old gentleman with gray 
 beard and a bald head ? " 
 
 " Well, his beard is not black, and he hasn't 
 any too much hair. Yes, that's the one I mean. 
 His daughter was here last week. She is going 
 to marry a rich lumberman in Michigan." 
 
 "An old man?" 
 
 "Well, yes, rather, a widower. The Judge 
 has retired from the bench and is devoting him- 
 self to the enjoyment of life. His health is not 
 very good." She looked at me as she said this, 
 as if it were a great encouragement to me. 
 
 The next day was bright with the sun and the 
 
 47
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 air was warm. At the breakfast table the Judge 
 devoted himself to me. He said that he would 
 like the honor of giving me my first view of the 
 Fair, and I consented to go with him. He was 
 exceedingly polite and well-bred ; was not learned 
 enough to be a bore, and though he talked about 
 himself the most of the time, yet what he said 
 was rather interesting. We took a carriage to 
 the Fair grounds. And now for the first time I 
 had a glimpse of the great world that had always 
 lain so far beyond my vision. It was a dazzle 
 and a bewilderment, refinement and art yielding 
 to the power of money. After all, my broad- 
 minded aunt and my narrow-minded mother were 
 both of them right. Money was the world life ; 
 and without it there could be nothing. It was 
 the first time that I had heard any real music, 
 and my blood danced like sunlight on the water 
 and my heart fluttered in its efforts to arise and 
 fly away. In a gondola I sat with the Judge, and 
 as we skimmed the lagoon, this swallow from 
 Venice, he talked incessantly, but I heard him not, 
 only his mumble, not his words ; and when came 
 the time to go to luncheon, it was a rude shock 
 to me thus again to step upon the earth where
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 money was king, crowned every day and every 
 night. After luncheon we went up that strange 
 thoroughfare of all nations and of all thievery, 
 the Midway, and I felt that I had crossed the 
 sea and was living in a rude age of the world. 
 Sometimes I felt the blush-waves flowing over 
 me, at the sight of Turkish girls dancing, and I 
 was ashamed to look at the Judge; but he was 
 not ashamed, for he asked me how I liked them, 
 and when I replied that I thought them disgust- 
 ing, he remarked that he thought so too. Several 
 times during the afternoon he referred to them, 
 and laughingly asked me if I desired to see them 
 again, and when most emphatically I told him no, 
 he said that he didn't either. 
 
 That night at home there was music in the 
 parlor, and the Judge sent out and bought cham- 
 pagne, the first I had ever seen. When they told 
 me that it was wine I refused to drink of it, but 
 my aunt emphasized the word champagne, and 
 said that all society people drank it. Then I took 
 a glass and drank, and bright thoughts seemed 
 to fly through my mind, but I did not try to put 
 them into words. The Fair arose a beautiful and 
 most vivid picture. I went to bed happy, for it 
 
 49
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 seemed that the future was all of it as bright as 
 the picture of the Fair. I didn't know why it 
 should be bright, for I realized that I had no pros- 
 pects ; but every one was happy, and in the midst 
 of happiness the world has always smiled. Upon 
 awaking the pictures were gone, but it was a 
 pleasure to muse over them, and I got up without 
 any ill feeling, for the truth is that I had drunk 
 but little, and even that was under the approving 
 supervision of my aunt. She would not have 
 permitted me to drink too much. I went again 
 to the Fair with the Judge that day and skimmed 
 in the gondola, but I refused to see the Turkish 
 girls. At noon-time we went to a place called 
 the Cafe Mariene, where hundreds of people were 
 drinking everything save water; and the Judge 
 insisted upon buying champagne, but I refused 
 to drink of it. He called me a charming little 
 Puritan. My talk must have been very silly, for, 
 remembering what my aunt had said, that men 
 did not like women with opinions, I had refrained 
 from expressing my views of life. The Judge 
 carried a gold-headed cane, with his name en- 
 graved on the top, a present, he said, from the 
 bar when he retired from the bench; and once 
 
 50
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 he asked me to carry it for him, just as a joke, he 
 declared, but I knew he wanted to prove to me 
 that he could walk without it. There were sev- 
 eral young men boarding at my aunt's house, to- 
 gether with a number of young women, and I 
 felt that I should like to see the Fair with them, 
 but aunt said that all of the girls were trying to 
 catch the Judge, and this stimulated me into a 
 desire to be with him. I wondered, however, 
 why it was that a man given to such unimportant 
 talk could ever have been a judge. He liked to 
 go about the Iowa building, where people spoke 
 to him and called him Judge, and it was here that 
 we sat in the evening, looking out over the lake 
 as the shadows began to lie closer down upon the 
 pleated water. He asked me to tell him about 
 my home, and I told him many things that were 
 not true, that a count who had come into our 
 neighborhood had vowed his love for me, and that 
 I had come away to be freed from his importuni- 
 ties. He said that I had acted with great good 
 sense, " for," said he, " those foreigners don't 
 know how to treat a woman. Whenever an 
 American girl marries a nobleman she must rec- 
 oncile herself to slavery. It is much better to
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 marry some man of mature years at home some 
 man that has been married before. A man nearly 
 always values his second wife more than he does 
 the first one. Don't you think so ? " 
 
 I told him that as I was not possessed of ex- 
 perience of such matters, I was hardly entitled 
 to speak, and he said that my discretion was 
 worthy of commendation. " You are a remark- 
 ably bright young woman," he declared, and I 
 wondered how he had found it out, as he had 
 given me no opportunity to pass judgment, except 
 upon the most trivial of matters. There were to 
 be fireworks that night, and I asked him if he 
 were not afraid to remain out in the chilly air, 
 and he scoffed at the idea and said that he was 
 tougher than a pine knot. Several persons who 
 had been sitting near us got up and went away, 
 and then the Judge assumed a tone of more con- 
 fidence, as if he would tell me some of his secrets. 
 He did. He said that he had married very young 
 and that he had never been in love with his wife. 
 " She was a good, honest woman," he admitted, 
 " but was never a companion to me. With her 
 I could not have found this pleasure, sitting as 
 
 52
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 you and I are, gazing out over this enchanting 
 scene. It would not have appealed to her." 
 
 I didn't know what to say, so I ventured to 
 ask him if she were an educated woman, and he 
 replied that her education was perhaps all that 
 could be desired, but that it was not education 
 alone that made a companion of a woman. Her 
 mind might be cultivated and still she might be 
 lacking in soul. " I think you have a great soul," 
 he said. " It looks out of your eyes, restless and 
 beautiful, as if it longed to escape and to fly away 
 to its more fitting home beyond this earth. You 
 have a yearning. Tell me what it is ? " 
 
 " It has not developed into an identification of 
 itself," I said, hardly knowing what I was going 
 to say, and realizing that I had said something 
 foolish, but he expressed great admiration for 
 my answer, and declared that none but a great 
 soul could frame such a speech. " But don't you 
 know what you long for ? " he asked, and in the 
 light of a lamp that had just sprung up I could see 
 his eyes bent upon me. " Every heart ought to 
 know what it yearns for." 
 
 " Yes, that is true," I replied. " But there are 
 times or rather a time when the heart hasn't be- 
 
 53
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 come acquainted with itself. We may have a 
 million wishes and yet no great aim." 
 
 " Hah, you talk like one who has thought," he 
 said. " Very unusual." 
 
 " Unusual for one to think? " 
 
 " Yes, for one so beautiful. I beg your par- 
 don, but " 
 
 I laughed and told him that he had committed 
 no offense. And he seemed disappointed that he 
 hadn't. Doubtless he desired that I should pro- 
 test. I waited for him to speak, now for the first 
 time really interested in what he might say. 
 " But the woman who thinks should no longer be 
 a surprise to man, since she is now educated to 
 think, if not for herself, yet in accordance with 
 the mannish views of other women. However, we 
 are wandering away from the subject. All 
 women, as all men, have ambitions, greater or 
 less as the case may be. One woman may wish 
 to be a leader in society and " 
 
 " That would please me," I broke in. 
 
 " But have you no higher ambition ? That is 
 the ambition of the lighter fancy. Have you no 
 ambition of the soul ? " 
 
 " Yes," I replied, " I should like to love a man 
 
 54
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 and be loved loved as much as I desire to be 
 loved, which I'm afraid can never be. It doesn't 
 seem to me that any man could love as much as 
 I should want to be loved." 
 
 " Those could be no other than the words of 
 a pure heart," he said. " But do you think that 
 a young man could love you as devotedly as an 
 old man ? " 
 
 "Why not? Isn't youth the mother and the 
 father of love ? Must a man wait until his forces 
 are nearly ebbed away before he can love ? Does 
 nature make so foolish and unreasonable a de- 
 mand of herself ? " 
 
 " You are surely a remarkable young woman," 
 he said. " I thought at first that you were simply 
 pretty, but now I find that you think. And those 
 who think, think quickly, so now I must tell you 
 what is in my mind and what has lodged there 
 ever since I saw you. I aspire to the honor of 
 offering you my myself and all that it implies." 
 
 It was of no use to tell him that it was sudden, 
 for it was not; I had seen it coming, had heard 
 it in the gathering tenderness of his voice. It 
 would have been worse than rude to laugh, and 
 besides I did not feel so disposed. But it was 
 
 55
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 odd, that I had fled from the arms of one old man 
 to the arms of another equally old. But one of 
 them was old and disgusting. This one was old 
 and refined, a gentleman, and therefore my sym- 
 pathy was moved. I replied that he had honored 
 me rather than himself, but that I could not marry 
 him. Then he said a very foolish thing. He 
 asked me why. " Because," I said, and I was im- 
 pelled by the spirit of truth, " I could not be true 
 to you." 
 
 " Not true to me ! " he gasped. 
 
 " No, for the moment I felt that I had sold my- 
 self there would be no honor left in my soul, and 
 I am sure that I should at some time fall in love 
 and fall." 
 
 He took out his handkerchief and folding it 
 slowly pressed it to his forehead. I asked him if 
 his head ached, and he answered no, that it was 
 his heart. At this I could not help smiling. 
 " There are precocious children," he said, " but it 
 is rare that we can apply the term to a woman. 
 But do you mean, that regardless of all moral obli- 
 gation that you would " 
 
 " Give myself to a man if I loved him," I said, 
 when for a moment he had hesitated. 
 
 56
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " If you were held by the bonds of marriage ? " 
 
 " I would give myself all the quicker if I had to 
 break bonds that were unnatural." 
 
 ' Then if you were to marry me and should af- 
 terward meet a man whom you loved " 
 
 " As animals love," I unblushingly suggested. 
 He was silent for a few moments, and then he 
 said : ' Yes, as animals love, you would give 
 yourself to him." 
 
 " Yes, for I could not restrain myself." 
 
 And now it was a long time before he spoke. 
 " And you call yourself a virtuous woman." 
 
 " I don't know whether I am or not. My own 
 mother couldn't tell me what virtue is. And even 
 you are counseling me to defy it to sell my- 
 self to you. All I hear about is money, money. 
 Money is a disease, and has become epidemic in 
 the human heart. Whenever I dream of love, I 
 hear the ring of money. I ask to be told what 
 virtue is, and they talk to me about money. I 
 have read of divine passion. It has turned to 
 avarice. They are shooting off the rockets. Shall 
 we go ? " 
 
 57
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE "WISDOM" OF A WOMAN. 
 
 We did not remain very long. The Judge 
 seemed to have lost his inspiration and was feeble ; 
 and as for myself, I was simply a country girl, 
 eyes and ears, looking at the fire and listening to 
 the music in the air. Just before we reached 
 home and he had insisted upon walking to the 
 grounds to prove, perhaps, that he was strong 
 he asked me if I had nothing to say to him. I 
 answered that I had been talking during the en- 
 tire evening and couldn't very well think of any- 
 thing else. 
 
 " I mean," said he, " on the subject that so 
 engaged us at one time. Were you earnest in all 
 that you said?" 
 
 " I don't think I could have been more in 
 earnest. Isn't it singular that whenever a woman 
 says anything that sounds like the truth a man 
 generally supposes that she doesn't mean it? 
 Isn't that strange? " 
 
 58
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 He said that he hadn't noticed anything of the 
 sort, and therefore was not able to say whether 
 or not it was strange. If it were a fact, he sup- 
 posed that it was strange. I was disposed to 
 laugh, but he was serious, and he sighed as we 
 were going up the steps. 
 
 My aunt was waiting for me and she came 
 to my room immediately after I returned. She 
 appeared flurried over something and I was seized 
 with a fear that in some way Old Pague and my 
 mother had conspired to have me taken home. It 
 was not long, however, before my aunt relieved 
 all fear in that direction. "Well," she said, 
 sitting down with a sigh as if she were weary of 
 life, " I never would have thought it." 
 
 " Thought what? " I inquired. 
 
 " That he could have been such a deceiver 
 that old man that Judge. But instead of being 
 a man of wealth, he hasn't more than enough to 
 live on, and I forbid your going out with him 
 again. Why, today I met a woman who lives 
 near him out in Iowa, and she told me the truth 
 about him." 
 
 " And who told you the falsehood ? " I in- 
 quired; and she didn't know how to answer me. 
 
 59
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " Did the Judge tell you he was rich, did some 
 one else say so, or was it a mere notion of your 
 own?" 
 
 " Well, now, some one told me; that's certain. 
 And whoever it was told it for no other purpose 
 than to deceive ; and the Judge must have known 
 by the way we all treated him that we thought 
 him rich, and he could have set us right if he 
 had wanted to. I don't like such underhand deal- 
 ings. So, I forbid you to go out with him again." 
 
 There is nothing more ridiculous than to be 
 serious over the absurd, and my aunt's condemna- 
 tion of the Judge for permitting us to be deceived 
 with regard to himself, was more than absurd 
 it was farcical. But I sobered my countenance, 
 and told her it was not likely that he would ask 
 me to go again. Then I told her that he had 
 asked me to marry him, and she frowned and de- 
 clared that he ought to be ashamed of himself, 
 to seek such an advantage over a young girl. 
 " There isn't one man in a thousand you can put 
 any confidence in," she said. " If they don't di- 
 rectly deceive you they know when you are being 
 deceived and let you remain in the dark, so it all 
 
 60
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 amounts to the same. You have made a lucky 
 escape." 
 
 " It wasn't luck," I answered, " I had no idea 
 of marrying him." 
 
 " Not even if he had been rich ? " 
 " I refused him when I supposed him rich." 
 My aunt sighed. She said that it' was very 
 hard to understand me, I was so whimsical. She 
 started out of the room, but faced about and, as 
 if I had been going with the Judge in opposition 
 to her wishes, declared that such a relationship 
 must end from that moment. " Your mother shall 
 never have a chance to say that I trapped you 
 into an unsuitable match," she said, and bade me 
 good night. Her determination was unnecessary, 
 for the Judge left the house early the next morn- 
 ing, without saying good-bye; and I never saw 
 him again. 
 
 Very soon there came a letter from my mother. 
 I expected her to reproach me, but I was hardly 
 prepared for the assertion that I had broken her 
 heart. " And if you could see Mr. Pague's suffer- 
 ing your own hard heart would surely bleed, if 
 it has any blood in it. I didn't think any human 
 being, brought up by a Christian mother, could 
 
 61
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 be so cruel as to treat a gentleman as you have 
 treated the man who loves you, and who would 
 have laid down his life for you. And it will be 
 just like you to meet some foolish young fellow 
 and marry him; but I don't want you to think 
 that you can bring him here to humiliate me 
 with his shiftlessness and poverty." 
 
 She said nothing of my possible return home 
 and I knew that her heart was not broken simply 
 on account of my absence from her sight. She 
 did not mention her husband, and I was gratified 
 to know that his part in my escape had not been 
 suspected. It was at this moment that the de- 
 termination to take up my home in Chicago en- 
 tered my mind. I had lost none of my affection 
 for my old home, for my mother ; but in the love 
 for her was a pity for her weakness, and I could 
 not help feeling that in some way a part of her 
 lack of strength had entered into my own char- 
 acter. I told Aunt of my resolve to live in 
 Chicago. " Well," she said, " it seems to me 
 that you are well enough educated and surely you 
 are handsome enough to make your way. For 
 a good-looking girl there is always an oppor- 
 tunity to do well, with application in the first 
 
 62
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 place, and some little tact in the second. It won't 
 take you long to learn stenography and typewrit- 
 ing, and then it will be easy enough to get a place 
 in some office. You can imagine the rest." 
 
 I replied that I could not imagine the rest, un- 
 less she meant efficiency in my work, and she 
 smiled upon me. " Three girls of my acquaint- 
 ance, one out of this house, have married rich 
 their employers. Find the right sort of place and 
 stay there." 
 
 " You mean to find some place, then, where 
 there is a marriageable man." 
 
 The look that she gave me was too shrewd to 
 be merely wise. " My dear," she said, " all men 
 are more or less marriageable. The divorce 
 courts are active." 
 
 I understood her and I burned with shame. 
 She noticed it and said : " Of course I don't mean 
 exactly that. But there are many widowers in 
 business, and a good looking girl has her choice 
 of offices when it comes to getting a position. 
 You may think me sordid, but I have had to strug- 
 gle in this heartless world until poverty is to me 
 a positive crime. It is to everybody. Why should 
 any one be poor? Look out on the street any 
 
 63
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 evening and you will see some wretched woman 
 taking home the clothes that she has washed. 
 She receives her few dimes and returns home to 
 her miserable home. Her children, brought up 
 on the street, are anything but tender and lov- 
 ing. They reproach her with their poverty. The 
 chances are that she was a handsome girl and 
 married to please herself instead of her mother. 
 She wanted love and love only, and got it. When- 
 ever you think that I am not talking hard sense, 
 prove my error and I'll change my tone. Sup- 
 pose you marry a young man and help him make 
 his fortune. How much of it would belong to 
 you? Upon some pretext or other he would 
 probably obtain a divorce and marry a young 
 
 woman/' 
 
 " I had no idea that life was so wretched," I 
 replied. " It would have been better for every- 
 body never to have lived. Your ideas not only 
 prevail in the city, but in the country places as 
 well." 
 
 " The fault lies with the fact that there are 
 women," she said. " Nature, man and all life 
 have discriminated against her, and then she is 
 blamed by so-called virtue because she doesn't 
 
 64
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 want to load her life down with the burden of 
 children. Children, indeed. Let the future take 
 care of itself. Our lives lie here about us. Why, 
 when we take into account the misery of this life, 
 it is a positive crime to bring a child into the 
 world. I had one, and he disgraced me and died 
 a drunkard while he was hardly more than a 
 boy." 
 
 " I am most unfortunate," I said, for her words 
 made me miserable. " It is a pity that I am a 
 woman or that I am at all. But I had thought 
 that woman, the mother of the race of man, was 
 noble. They say that our grandmothers were. 
 How could there have been so great a change in 
 so short a time? Of course there can't be any 
 happiness when nearly every one is preaching 
 dissatisfaction. It seems to me that there has 
 arisen a conspiracy against life. In the country 
 the women try to cultivate their minds with books 
 and literary societies; and when they come to 
 the city they find that all of their time has been 
 wasted. You have made me wretched." 
 
 " That hasn't been my aim, I'm sure. I am 
 trying to put you in a way to be happy, or at least 
 contented. Of what is the use of seeking to make 
 
 65
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 a virtuous disguise of a thing that is so perfectly 
 plain? Everything points to money. With it 
 you may not be happy, but without it you are sure 
 to be miserable." 
 
 Next day I went to the Fair with some of the 
 young people, and amid music and the gorgeous 
 sights from all the world, I was happy. But 
 melancholy settled upon me when I returned to 
 the house. I could not keep down the feeling that 
 my aunt, who showed that life with her had been 
 a battle, had told at least a part of the truth. 
 With all of her " wisdom," she was not cold at 
 heart. She said that she would advance enough 
 money to take me through one of the commercial 
 schools, would board me, and that I could repay 
 her whenever I found myself able. In a letter 
 scarcely less reproachful than the first one, my 
 mother approved of my determination. She had 
 heard that typewriting was a good opportunity 
 for a good-looking girl. Never a word of cau- 
 tion, never an admonition. Some women are so 
 virtuous as they understand it, a physical adher- 
 ence to a principle, that they think it inborn, and 
 it ought to be, but circumstances are stronger 
 than traits. 
 
 66
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 
 
 Not far from our house there was a small 
 commercial school. My aunt thought that it 
 would be better to enter here than to pay more at 
 one of the large establishments, and so I became 
 a student of shorthand and typewriting. I had 
 never found it difficult to learn anything, but after 
 a few weeks I was surprised at my own aptitude. 
 I think that women learn stenography easier than 
 men, up to a certain point. It may be because 
 those little crooked marks all of them contain a 
 secret; and it was with a sense of prying into 
 those secrets that urged me on. Sometimes at 
 night my aunt would dictate to me some of her 
 views on life, and she was always pleased with 
 herself when I read them to her ; and I remember 
 that she said that her life would make a great 
 book. " Yes," I said, " but the men who read it 
 would never marry." 
 
 " And why not, pray? " she asked.
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " Because they would believe that all a woman 
 wants is money." 
 
 " Well, I guess the majority of them that do 
 marry find that out soon enough." 
 
 There was no way to get encouragement out of 
 her. Worry and hard work had soured all the 
 cream of this life, and now she would have me 
 believe that there had never been any cream for 
 her, and that unless I made money my god there 
 could be none for me. I knew that somewhere, 
 doubtless within sight of our house, there was 
 honest happiness love; instinct and the warm 
 blood of youth told me that life was not all a 
 nightmare ; but hope is powerless to combat with 
 experience, for experience sits upon the corpse 
 of hope. And so, arguments with my aunt al- 
 ways came to naught, leaving her, in her experi- 
 ence, the victor of the field. Sometimes we went 
 to the theater, and she always laughed at plays 
 where virtue came out triumphant in the purity 
 of its weakness. And yet, without the proper 
 ceremony she would not have sold herself. Why 
 was this ? Why should there be so much of virtue 
 in a lie administered by the law? 
 
 One night, late in August, we were coming 
 
 68
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 out of the Auditorium Theater when some one, 
 gorgeous beyond immediate recognition, flounced 
 up to me with a " W'y, how do you do ? " It was 
 Olive, my dear friend; and she introduced me to 
 her husband old Pague. I wanted to scream 
 and yet I felt that I could sink into the earth 
 I presented my aunt and she smiled upon Olive 
 and shook hands heartily with the old man; and 
 he coughed and smiled, showing his new teeth. 
 " I'm so glad to see you," said Olive. " What a 
 lucky accident. Isn't it, dear ? " The latter part 
 of the remark was addressed to Pague, and he 
 smiled as broadly as he could and said that it was 
 a most fortunate incident. " I would have come 
 to see you, dear," said Olive, and this dear was 
 addressed to me, " but I didn't know your address, 
 and it's so hard to find any one here. You see, 
 we left home rather suddenly, didn't we, dear ? " 
 This dear belonged to Pague, and he acknowl- 
 edged it with a smile. " Do let us go some place 
 where we can talk," said Olive. " Some restaur- 
 ant. Dear, will you please call a carriage ? " 
 
 I demurred, but she insisted; aunt was more 
 than willing, and " dear " called a carriage and 
 we drove away. Every time Olive moved there 
 
 69
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 was the rustle of silk. " We have been here two 
 weeks," she said. " And dear has been so awfully 
 good to me has bought me everything I looked 
 at. I wrote to mamma to-day and told her how 
 happy I am." 
 
 We went into a glittering place, and when the 
 waiters saw Olive in her finery they came run- 
 ning; and Pague, who must have seen much of 
 the world, knew how to order them about. We 
 entered into a little room off to one side, and I 
 heard Pague say that we wanted champagne. 
 My aunt looked at me and drew down the corners 
 of her mouth, which meant that she was express- 
 ing her sorrow over my lost opportunity. I asked 
 Pague if he were well, not knowing what else to 
 say to him, and he answered, " Never better in 
 my life" ; and Olive asked me if I didn't think he 
 looked twenty years younger. My aunt glanced 
 at me and I said that twenty years younger was 
 undoubtedly the way he looked, and he gave me a 
 pitying smile. . 
 
 " Mr. Pague has just entered into some sort 
 of a consolidation of his mines," said Olive ; " and 
 is here now combining business with pleasure. 
 But pleasure is in the ascendent, isn't it, dear ? " 
 
 70
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " Dear " said that it was, and my aunt took a 
 swallow of water. And what a dinner the old 
 man ordered! One would have thought that it 
 was his wedding feast, deferred until now; and 
 when the wine was brought he tipped my glass 
 with his own and laughingly said that we would 
 drink to better acquaintance. We drank, and in- 
 stantly I felt better acquainted with him. The 
 music struck up and but for an occasional re- 
 proachful glance from my aunt I should have 
 been happy. Olive said that she was dying to 
 have a long talk with me, alone; and I gave her 
 our address and she said that she would come 
 out the next day, which was Sunday. It was an 
 occasion to be remembered, for every one in the 
 brilliant place seemed to be happy; and when we 
 went out Pague insisted upon sending us home 
 in a carriage. I declined the honor, but Pague 
 was determined and my aunt pulled at me, and 
 I knew that I must yield. So we got into a car- 
 riage. It was some time before my aunt said 
 anything, but I could hear her thoughts and it 
 was not a surprise when she said : " That is a 
 sensible girl and you were foolish. The chances 
 are that he is worth a million dollars. Coal
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 mines gracious alive, I know what it is to pay 
 coal bills. Gypsy, I don't blame your mother 
 not a bit; and I don't see how you can keep from 
 blaming yourself. Can you ? " 
 
 I said that since Mr. Pague seemed to be 
 happy, with no scars on his heart, there was noth- 
 ing with which to reproach myself; and she 
 cleared her throat as my mother had so often 
 done when she was irritated with me. " What 
 he thinks or feels doesn't enter into the ques- 
 tion," said my aunt. " You yourself are the one 
 to be considered." 
 
 " But I don't take the trouble to consider my- 
 self. If I committed a wrong it was against my- 
 self, and this wrong is now past reckoning with, 
 I should think." 
 
 " Come, don't talk like a school ma'rni. Be 
 sensible if you can." And after we had driven 
 some distance further, she added: "If you had 
 married that man you wouldn't now be com- 
 pelled to seek employment in some office." 
 
 " But aunt, you said that such employment of- 
 fered a fine opportunity." 
 
 With her lips she made that sort of noise which 
 irritation cannot form into words. " Yes, in- 
 
 72
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 deed," she said, after a time. " But what use is 
 there to throw away a reality for an opportunity ? 
 Tell me that." 
 
 I was compelled to say that I didn't know. Oh, 
 I had long since learned that money was always 
 to have the best of all arguments. She said that 
 Pague was attractive and intelligent, a man of 
 the world ; and she was sure that he would make 
 a kind and attentive husband. Kindness lived 
 longer than love. Kindness sometimes arose into 
 love, but love rarely sobered into kindness. " Oh, 
 all of my experience hasn't come out of a cook 
 book," she said. " I am not ignorant; I can read 
 and I can reason." 
 
 She could talk, I knew that ; and since talk has 
 ever been taken for reason, I did not dispute her. 
 Besides, there did seem to be reason in what she 
 said. Her ill-humor with me never lasted long 
 at a time, and just before we reached home she 
 said : " But you must make the best of the next 
 opportunity. It is no use to grieve over spilt 
 milk." 
 
 I wanted to say that it was especially of no use 
 to grieve over sour milk purposely thrown away, 
 but I didn't. 
 
 73
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 Next , morning there came a letter from my 
 mother. She said that she had been ill and there- 
 fore had not written to tell me of the grand wed- 
 ding over at Peyton's. The money which right- 
 fully belonged to me had been settled on Olive, 
 she said; and the Peyton family, including the 
 father, who had always been ambitious for his 
 daughter, were all of them happy. 
 
 In the afternoon Olive came in a carriage, 
 without her husband ; and I saw a look of pity in 
 her eyes as she looked at the plain furniture in 
 my room. I asked her what had become of the 
 postoffice in the hollow tree, and she laughed and 
 said, " Poor Charley. And he reformed, too, 
 thinking that I was going to marry him. But it 
 couldn't be. He wrote to me just before the wed- 
 ding and said that he wished my husband would 
 live a hundred years. Wasn't that kind ? Char- 
 ley has such a forgiving nature. Oh, did I tell 
 you that we thought of going to Egypt this win- 
 ter ? Mr. Pague wants me to go up the Nile. He 
 says it's charming. He was there several years 
 ago and was much taken with the the view from 
 the boat. I heard that there was the mummy of 
 an Egyptian princess here, and I went to see her, 
 
 74
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 upstairs over a candy store; and I looked at her 
 and wondered if she had ever been very beauti- 
 ful. I think her complexion must have been very 
 much tanned. My, how I do go on. I'm keeping 
 the first letter Charley wrote me after he heard 
 of my determination to marry Mr. Pague. I 
 told him myself and he didn't say much, but went 
 away to write to me. It is full of the sweetest 
 despair you ever saw. And I'm going to keep 
 
 it as long as I live, and " she turned her face 
 
 from me. " Isn't it funny how we treasure such 
 things ? " she said, wiping her eyes. " And you 
 could have had him Mr. Pague, I mean, but 
 then you were always my successful, or rather 
 my superior rival except this time. But of 
 course you don't care now if he loves me more 
 than he could have loved you. You never seemed 
 to care for love, anyway. Now tell me all about 
 yourself and what you intend to do." 
 
 I told her that I was studying in a commercial 
 school, and she said that if Mr. Pague centered 
 his business in Chicago he could give me employ- 
 ment. " But it would not be in the line of my 
 aunt's policy for me to work for a man that is 
 not eligible," I said. 
 
 75
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " How eligible ? Oh, I see. Well, I wish you 
 as much luck as I've had." 
 
 When she had taken her leave I thought that 
 she was happy, with the exception of the few 
 tears she had shed over Charley; and they may 
 have been happy tears. I did not talk to her seri- 
 ously. There was nothing serious except money, 
 and the serious part of money is that you do not 
 possess it. When I went to bed that night I 
 agreed that I was conquered, and I formed a re- 
 solve to have money, to be desperate if neces- 
 sary, to let my heart play no part, to crush it. 
 Usually a night resolve flies away with the morn- 
 ing, but this one did not; it hardened into a de- 
 termination. Before going to school I told my 
 aunt that she had conquered, that I was going to 
 follow her advice 
 
 " And be somebody," she broke in cheerfully. 
 " We can't get away from the fact, my dear," she 
 said " the fact that women are to buy and sell, 
 or to be bought and sold. All conditions and all 
 nature point to that fact. A woman's love is one 
 of twins the other one is trouble." 
 
 I could not help admiring her, she was so 
 strong in many ways. In France she would have
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 sat on a cannon with a sword in her hand. As 
 a man, with that brow, that head shaped for 
 strength of purpose, she would have been a states- 
 man. Her god was power money; and power 
 in some form has always been the god of the 
 great. How she despised her work; how she 
 despised the people that were compelled to board. 
 She knew that with money she could have been 
 a dominating force in the women clubs. She was 
 rising when my uncle died. But when the women 
 learned that she was poor and must work for a 
 living, they fell away from her. It was no won- 
 der that she hated them. It was no wonder that 
 in her love for me she wanted me to rule. 
 
 I returned Olive's visit, at the hotel, and I 
 found her in handsome apartments. Old Pague 
 was surely " blowing " himself, and his wife knew 
 how to help him. When the dam that has held 
 in the current of her life breaks loose, it is the 
 country girl that knows how to spend money. 
 She may not have read much, but the little she 
 has read teaches her what to want. 
 
 She showed me her clothes, and the dresses 
 that I had " stolen " from home were mean in 
 comparison. It had been too warm to wear her 
 
 77
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 seal skin, but she put it on for me, and I must 
 confess that envy crept into my heart. Her hats 
 were dreams edged with visions, and it was the 
 first time that I had ever seen a pair of shoes 
 that cost ten dollars. But they were too large for 
 me, and this was some comfort. She chatted all 
 the time, as I imagined a queen might prate over 
 new territories that had come into her posses- 
 sion ; she ordered champagne and we drank it and 
 hugged each other and laughed. But she began 
 to talk about Charley, and this made her cry ; but 
 not for long, as her hats were in full view. 
 
 After a while Pague came in, trying to look 
 spry, but very tired. He put his arms about her, 
 as was his right if not her pleasure, and she 
 kissed him and put her soft cheek against his an- 
 cient stubble land, his jaw; and they cooed. But 
 I was not envious except when I looked at the 
 hats. After a time Paeue put her aside and 
 began to fumble over some papers that looked 
 like bills, and he winced so that I expected him to 
 cry " Ouch." 
 
 " Is there anything wrong, dear ? " she in- 
 quired. 
 
 He smiled in a colicky sort of way and said 
 
 78
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 that everything was all right, " my pet." He 
 asked me if I had heard from my mother of late, 
 and when I told him, he said : " She is a most 
 remarkable woman, full of common sense. And 
 she would have made a man of your father if 
 I beg your pardon if it hadn't been for his un- 
 fortunate habits." 
 
 It was cruel of me, but I felt that if he had 
 ever been much of a man it would have been in 
 spite of her. It may be that some men who drink 
 have a cause. It may be more of dissatisfaction 
 at home than the allurements of the wineshop. 
 Men are not made strong by the weak ambitions 
 of a woman. A noble unselfishness is the main 
 spring of true greatness on the part of a wife. 
 But I did not at this time so argue with myself, 
 for my resolve was made. I was going to be 
 selfish. And God knows how I carried out this 
 determination. 
 
 I asked Pague if Samuel, mother's husband, 
 were doing anything. " Well, nothing to amount 
 to anything," he replied. " I think he is trying 
 to invent some sort of a machine. In fact I know 
 he is. He came to me not long ago and said 
 that it would take about a thousand dollars to 
 
 79
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 put it in shape for the market. Under well, I 
 might say that under certain conditions I might 
 have let him take the money." 
 
 He looked at me. Olive, with one of her hats 
 on her head, was standing in front of the dresser, 
 surveying herself in the glass. I nodded and 
 slowly he shook his head. " Why are you two 
 so silent all at once ? " Olive inquired, turning 
 around and looking first at me and then at him. 
 
 " Because, my dear," said Pague, " there is 
 practically nothing more to say about a man when 
 you have said that he has invented a machine." 
 
 " But you said that under certain conditions 
 you might have let him have money. What con- 
 ditions do you mean ? " she asked, looking at him 
 and then at me. 
 
 " Why, if he had been foolish enough to marry 
 me," I spoke up. 
 
 " Yes, of course," she said, putting off her hat, 
 going to him and putting her arms about his 
 leathery neck. She was standing behind him, and 
 she looked at me, her eyes smiling; but the light 
 was not soft. At this moment she must have 
 attributed to me a moral superiority that I did 
 not feel. 
 
 80
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 A boy brought a card for Pague. He looked 
 at it, and, remarking that he would be down in a 
 moment, kissed his wife and went out. No sooner 
 had he gone than Olive sank down upon a chair 
 and hid her face in her hands. There was no 
 way by which I could comfort her, and I re- 
 mained silent. After a time she looked up and 
 her eyes were red, but she was smiling, v The 
 same quality in man is called heroism. 
 
 81
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 IN THE OFFICE. 
 
 When Pague returned he found us chatting 
 gaily. Olive had tried on her other hat. " What 
 a picture," he said as he looked at her, posing 
 before the glass. Then he added : " My dear, 
 my our business calls us home." 
 
 " Home," she repeated, in a sad tone, and took 
 off her hat. 
 
 ' Yes, and we must go to-night." 
 
 " Is there anything wrong ? " It was the 
 money. She was afraid that it might get away. 
 He told her no, that nothing was wrong, but 
 that he had been sued a trifling matter. 
 " Then, why can't I stay here till you attend to 
 it and come back ? " she said. He drew down 
 the corners of his mouth and looked at her. She 
 put on her hat and posed for him. He smiled 
 the old fool. I took my leave of him. Olive came 
 with me down the corridor. " I suppose people 
 would think it strange if he went home without 
 
 82
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 me," she said. " But I wish he would. We could 
 have such a time with him gone. But what 
 am I saying? The Fair will soon be over, but 
 I'm coming back before it ends mind if I don't." 
 
 This sounded like a threat. I told her that I 
 hoped she would. She looked determined, almost 
 grim; she was no longer beautiful; at such mo- 
 ments she was hard. The lines about her mouth 
 looked like steel wire. But she had hats. 
 
 We stood waiting for the elevator. " Charley 
 said that he was coming to the Fair," she said. 
 And then she added : " Do you know what I am 
 foolishly afraid of? That you might meet him. 
 He has heard me speak of you. He would like 
 to meet you to spite me." 
 
 " But why should you be interested in him 
 now ? " I inquired. 
 
 " I don't know. Oh, I'm not interested in him. 
 It doesn't make any difference to me what he 
 does ; only if you see him don't talk to him about 
 me. Here comes the elevator. Good bye." 
 
 She kissed me; she left a tear on my cheek 
 her tear. 
 
 I told my aunt of my visit, of all that had 
 
 83
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 passed. " Let her be strong and she will win," 
 she said. 
 
 " Win what ? " I inquired. I was wondering. 
 
 " What she must have to be happy a chance 
 .' to dominate over something, somebody. We are 
 never contented except when we look down. We 
 never do anything except when we look up. Let 
 her look up. She has the opportunity. It does 
 not in many cases come twice. You have had 
 one offered to you. Make the most of the other 
 one. You can." 
 
 I said that I would. Olive had appeared un- 
 happy but for a few moments at a time. After- 
 ward I knew that it was a constant struggle for 
 her to appear even pleasant. My future was 
 coming. My heart was dying. It was now al- 
 most sufficiently dead. 
 
 After this, at school, I worked harder than 
 ever. The secrets in the curls, the sprawling 
 spider legs, were the secrets of power. I was 
 attaining speed in writing this unknown lan- 
 guage, this warping of my own tongue. My fin- 
 gers flew over the typewriter keys. The teacher 
 saw in me great promise, that of becoming an
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 expert. That was an insult, but he didn't know 
 it. He was a man stupid. 
 
 One day my aunt and I gathered in a harvest 
 of Sunday papers. I was looking for a position. 
 She had given me some of her swiftest " wis- 
 dom " and I had caught it with ease. Business 
 would not talk so fast as wisdom. The next day 
 I went out with a purse full of newspaper cut- 
 tings. I would fill it full of gold before I halted, 
 I said. My aunt applauded the determination. 
 I went to a number of places. I met oldish look- 
 ing girls coming out. I could have had three po- 
 sitions before noon-time, but they didn't suit me. 
 The surroundings were too mean. In the after- 
 noon I went into a large collecting agency, on 
 the tenth floor of a new building. When I told 
 why I had called, I was shown into a room where 
 several girls were waiting. They were plainly 
 dressed. I had on a part of my wedding outfit. 
 Their talk betrayed a lack of education. One of 
 them said that she had worked in a department 
 store. She looked tired. One by one we were 
 shown into another room. A man in a doorway 
 summoned me before my time came. The others 
 were hastened somewhat, I thought. In the room 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 there was a rug on the floor. The place was 
 neat. Here I met a cheerful man, rather mature, 
 with a bright scarcity of hair. He bade me be 
 seated. He did not begin the conversation by 
 asking me about my efficiency. He spoke about 
 the weather, which he said was fine. I remarked 
 that such days always turned my mind toward 
 the woods. A man with no sentiment likes to 
 'hear a woman talk about the woods. He said 
 that he was fond of the country. I wondered if 
 he said this because he thought that I was a coun- 
 try girl. Some one came in and addressed him 
 as Mr. Nevum. After a while I spoke of his ad- 
 vertisement. He said that he had several young 
 women under consideration. Then I said that 
 he might consider me, and he smiled and re- 
 marked that I ought to fill all requirements. Then 
 he spoke of salary. The girl who had just left 
 went home to be married had received more 
 than the usual wage ; she had been some time with 
 the firm, a year, I afterward understood. I said 
 that he might try me and if I were not worth as 
 much as she, why, it would then be time to reduce 
 me. He said that this was fair. 
 
 " When am I to know how you have consid- 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 ered me ? " I asked, and he laughed because it 
 was all so unbusiness-like. I learned before long 
 that those who were the most unbusiness-like re- 
 ceived the politest attention. He said that I 
 might come early on the following morning. He 
 was better than Pague, was not so old, but I 
 didn't think that I could make up my mind to 
 marry him. He was exceedingly neat and wore 
 a diamond in his shirt. That was encouraging. 
 It was the gleaming eye of power my aunt's 
 sort of power ; and I wondered how much it was 
 worth. I was delighted to know that my heart 
 was dead. 
 
 My aunt's strong mind was not very much 
 pleased when I told her of the manner in which 
 my arrangement for work had been brought 
 about. She said that I should have been more 
 dignified. " But I was as dignified as he would 
 let me be," I replied. " I could not have gone in 
 with a business air, never having had any experi- 
 ence; and all I could do was to act as occasion 
 prompted." 
 
 " I am afraid, however, that you were too friv- 
 olous," she said. " No matter how much a busi-
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 ness man may admire beauty, he doesn't wish to 
 marry a frivolous girl if he can help it." 
 
 This made me laugh, but I soon perceived that 
 she was in earnest, that it was a part of her wis- 
 dom. 
 
 " But I didn't go in expecting to marry him," 
 I said. 
 
 " Of course not, my dear, but we ought always 
 to be prepared " 
 
 " For the worst," I suggested ; and now she 
 laughed, but not for long. Mirth with her was 
 never more than momentary. " I will go down 
 with you to-morrow and see that you start in 
 right," she said. " A great deal depends upon 
 that, you know. A collecting agency, did you 
 say? I have never heard of a collector that was 
 worth much. However, this may be but a part of 
 the business. After I see the place I will make 
 all necessary inquiries." 
 
 I didn't know of any inquiries necessary to be 
 made, but I agreed that she should go with me. 
 So, early on the following day we went down to 
 the collecting agency. Mr. Nevum had not ar- 
 rived, but my desk was pointed out to me, and 
 opening it I busied myself for a time with clean- 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 ing the writing machine. In this my aunt took 
 a considerable degree of interest, seeming to re- 
 gard it as an agent of power; and she looked 
 about the room and passed her approval on all 
 the furniture. After a while Mr. Nevum came 
 in, bade me good morning and asked my aunt if 
 he could do anything for her. She replied that 
 she was there to introduce her niece, which ap- 
 peared rather out of order, as she was not ac- 
 quainted with him, but he smiled pleasantly over 
 the humor of it. She had the good sense not to 
 remain long, and as she was taking her leave she 
 called me Gypsy; and shortly afterward Mr. 
 Nevum called me Miss Gypsy. So there was my 
 nickname established with me in my first position. 
 Pretty soon he began to dictate letters so swiftly 
 that I thought he must be trying my skill, and 
 sometimes I had to stop and request him to re- 
 peat. He was very patient, however, and when 
 he had loaded me down he turned to his own 
 desk, and, absorbed in other affairs, did not seem 
 to realize that I was in the world. And those 
 letters ! It was please " remit and escape the pen- 
 alty," or " we have decided that it is impossible 
 to collect without suit," or " investigation has 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 proved to us that you are able to pay, and if you 
 do not call at once we will proceed to enforce the 
 judgment which we hold against you." Every- 
 body was in debt. A boy was constantly coming 
 in, telling Mr. Nevum that some one wished to 
 see him. Sometimes he went out and sometimes 
 he told the boy to " show him in." I remember 
 one woman that gained access to this, the tor- 
 ture chamber. She told a pitiable tale of hard 
 work and of sickness. She had agreed to pay 
 ten dollars a month on a debt, but had failed to 
 meet her obligation. 
 
 " But you have a piano in the house," said Mr. 
 Nevum. 
 
 " Yes, but it isn't mine." 
 
 "Whose is it, then?" 
 
 " It belongs to my daughter." 
 
 " Ah, your daughter. What does she do ? " 
 
 " She doesn't do anything. She is still in 
 school." 
 
 " Well, but it seems to me that you ought to 
 be able to pay ten dollars a month. This man 
 Scott is constantly writing to us, wondering why 
 we don't do something, and he is threatening to 
 take the account out of our hands. You have 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 owed it a long time and he has been very lenient 
 with you. Now, how much can you pay a 
 month?" 
 
 " I don't see how I can pay more than six dol- 
 lars. My son went out on a strike and " 
 
 " Well, but you see that's no fault of ours. Six 
 dollars. Well, see that you pay that much, and 
 remember, if you fail we'll have to come after 
 that piano. Good day." 
 
 I had heard this while pretending to correct 
 some errors. And so it was all during the day, 
 continuous failure to meet obligations, begging 
 for more time. When I took the letters to be 
 signed, Mr. Nevum looked over them and nodded 
 approvingly. He could be pleasant. A man of 
 about his own age came in and they shook hands 
 heartily and talked about duck-shooting, when 
 the time should ripen; and as the man went 
 out Nevum followed him into a sort of corridor. 
 I heard him say, "Where did you get her?" 
 And Nevum, after saying something that I didn't 
 catch, remarked, " Ain't she a peach ? " 
 
 While he was talking to some one else I went 
 to lunch in a basement cafe where there was a 
 great deal of noise and a large number of young 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 women from the neighboring offices. Not many 
 of them looked as if they were on the road to 
 fortune. Many of them appeared worn, the older 
 ones especially, and I surmised that they had to 
 work harder than their younger sisters. Upon 
 my return, as I was passing through the outer 
 office, I noticed a young and strikingly handsome 
 man. He turned from his desk and gave me a 
 look, and shortly after I had sat down he came 
 in upon a pretense of seeing Mr. Nevum, who 
 was out. 
 
 " Ah, hasn't got back yet, I see." 
 
 I told him no, with a mere glance at him, but 
 he stood there for a few moments, and then 
 walked over to the window, just behind my chair. 
 I was erasing a word with a rubber. " You 
 haven't been here long," he said. 
 
 " I came to-day." 
 
 " How do you like the work? " 
 
 I wondered if he saw that it was new to me. 
 " I don't know yet," I answered. 
 
 " I suppose not," he replied, and continued to 
 stand near the window. He seemed to be looking 
 over my shoulder. I turned my head. His eyes 
 were directed away off, at the clouds. He asked 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 me where I was from, and when I told him he 
 said: 'You ought to go back there." I asked 
 him why, and he answered : " This is no place 
 for you." 
 
 " But I have to work, don't I ? " 
 
 " Not this sort of work. Couldn't you teach ? " 
 
 " I should despise it." 
 
 " You will despise this before you are done 
 with it. It is a house of lies and extortion. I 
 wouldn't remain here a moment longer if I 
 weren't in a way compelled. I am studying law 
 at night, and I work here in order that I may 
 learn to starve." 
 
 ' To starve ! " I repeated. 
 ' Yes, one must learn to starve in order to 
 practice law in this town." 
 
 I looked at him and he was smiling. He ap- 
 peared more like a Greek statue of refined mirth 
 than a picture of starvation. " I think Mr. 
 Nevum will be back in a moment," said I. 
 
 " Is this an advice to go or an invitation to 
 remain ? " he asked, laughing. I told him that 
 he ought to know, and perhaps he did, but he 
 continued to remain, while I flew at the machine 
 as if to recover the time that I had lost on him. 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " I think I hear Mr. Nevum coming," I said, halt- 
 ing in my work to look around at him; and we 
 both of us laughed; and in this laugh there was 
 a flying leap toward friendship, if even it were 
 to stop at that. I was dazzled by him, by the way 
 he looked at me, by his smile, by the easy and 
 graceful insolence of his manners. And now, as 
 if he had been waiting for that mutual laugh, he 
 went out. 
 
 Nevum came in, florid, as if he had eaten too 
 much, creaked his swivel chair by turning it 
 about, and gave me a few more letters, all of a 
 most threatening nature. I was glad when six 
 o'clock came, glad to get out into the free air 
 again, but I was pleased to reflect that I had done 
 a good day's work, even if I had been the medium 
 between heartless importunity and distress. 
 
 My aunt asked me many questions, and I told 
 her all I knew, except about the young man. He 
 had said that he was preparing to starve, and I 
 knew that she could find no interest in him. That 
 night I wrote a long letter to my mother. I 
 thought that she would be proud to know that I 
 was able to earn a living for myself. 
 
 When I went to work the next morning there 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 were only two persons in the office, the young 
 man who had laughed with me and an oldish man, 
 who called the young man Edward; and to my- 
 self I called him by that name. Nevum came 
 with a brisk air and proceeded to deluge me with 
 letters, and just before I began to write them 
 on the machine he said : " I suppose that, like 
 the rest of them, you'll be getting married about 
 the time you get accustomed to the ways of the 
 office." 
 
 " I hadn't thought anything about it," I re- 
 plied, putting in a sheet of paper. 
 
 " Oh, they never think anything about it," he 
 said. " If they did maybe they wouldn't get mar- 
 ried." 
 
 ' Then I will think something about it." 
 
 When a man laughs he thinks that in the eyes 
 of a woman he is irresistible. Nevum laughed. 
 I began to write, but he spoke again and I turned 
 toward him. " I suppose you attend church reg- 
 ularly." 
 
 " Regularly when I do," I replied, and he 
 laughed again. 
 
 " Like the theater better, eh? " 
 
 Something prompted me to tell the truth. " I 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 don't know but I do. I think the theater is more 
 genuine. The church makes a pretense of de- 
 spising money, but despises you if you haven't 
 it. The theater demands money at the door, and 
 when you have paid your way in, why, you're as 
 good as anybody." 
 
 " That's right," he said. " But what caused 
 you to come to such a conclusion? You haven't 
 had much experience, have you ? " 
 
 " Experience may lie in what we hear as well 
 ' as in what we see. Lately I have heard a great 
 deal about money, and am more than half in- 
 clined to believe that it is the essence of wisdom. 
 And when we talk from the money basis, people 
 may pretend to dispute, but they can't argue with 
 us." 
 
 My eyes were cast down, for I had not wholly 
 grown out of the shame of such opinions; and I 
 felt that he was regarding me intently. I looked 
 up, and so he was. 
 
 " Women are a hundred per cent smarter than 
 they used to be," he said. " When I look back 
 it seems that my sisters didn't know anything 
 except what they were told. They didn't think 
 for themselves, as girls do now. But after all, 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 I don't know but the old fashioned idea was best 
 for women. The ignorance and bliss idea is not 
 altogether foolish." 
 
 " Have you any daughters? " I inquired. 
 
 " One, off at college, or will be soon. Home 
 now." 
 
 ' Why do you send her to a college ? Isn't it to 
 teach her to think? " 
 
 " Yes, I suppose it is." 
 
 " But I suppose you want her to think for her- 
 self and to act for some one else." 
 
 "Eh, what's that?" 
 
 " You want her to marry to please you and her 
 mother." 
 
 " By George, I don't want her to marry at all, 
 when it comes to that." 
 
 " But you wouldn't have her an old maid, 
 cheated of what nature intended her to be ? " 
 
 " No, I don't. But what do you think nature 
 intended a woman to be ? " 
 
 " I know what you expect me to say, but I 
 won't say it. I could say to be a wife and a 
 mother, and, while this may be the intention of 
 nature, I don't know that nature is just to the 
 female sex, either among men or animals. Dis- 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 crimination is never just, and nature discrim- 
 inates." 
 
 " Nature hasn't discriminated against you," he 
 said. " She crowns all of her glories with the 
 creation of a beautiful woman." 
 
 I was beginning to like him. Was this the 
 same man that would grind six dollars a week 
 out of an old woman who could not afford to pay 
 three? Some one came in and I returned to my 
 work. 
 
 At noon I went down into the same restaurant 
 and hadn't more than taken a seat when Edward 
 came up to the table. " May I sit here, co-la- 
 borer ? " he inquired, with his hand on the back 
 of a chair. I told him that with the permission 
 of the head waiter he might, and he smiled and 
 sat down. " Heard some one pay you a compli- 
 ment just now," said he. " Nevum, speaking to 
 old Clayton out in the office, called you a bird." 
 
 " I don't call that a compliment." 
 
 " It is, coming from him ; not that he really 
 amounts to anything, but because as a general 
 thing he doesn't think that a woman has any 
 sense." 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " Still I don't regard it as a compliment. Are 
 birds thought to be so very wise ? " 
 
 " They have sense enough to build nests, and 
 some men haven't that much ability," he replied, 
 looking over the bill of fare. " Let me see; I'm 
 not looking so much for what I want as for what 
 I can afford. I'm not a bird, you understand." 
 
 We gave our orders, and he sat playing with a 
 spoon, and it seemed to gleam the brighter in 
 the light caught from his eyes. " Your name 
 
 "Miss Dawson," I said. "And yours?" 
 
 " Somers Edward, law-student, incompetent 
 learning to starve prospective tramp. If I 
 had money enough I'd take you to the theater." 
 
 " You take it for granted that I would go with 
 you." 
 
 " Of course. Aren't you eating with me ? I've 
 gone with people that I didn't care to eat with. 
 Haven't you?" 
 
 His smiling made his impudence bright. I 
 wondered if. I had ever possessed any dignity. 
 " I don't know what I've done," I replied. " How 
 long have you worked up there? " 
 
 " In the sweat-shop of the mind ? Oh, about 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 three or four months. I do my studying at night 
 beating chaff looking for grains. I came from 
 Kansas. Father's a failure and mother's a crank. 
 Got a short-haired sister and a long-haired 
 brother. She's going to study medicine sister; 
 think he'll be a nurse. What are you going to 
 do next Sunday? " 
 
 What a funny thing he was. He made me 
 laugh made me like to laugh. I told him that 
 I didn't know. 
 
 " Give me your address and I may drop in." 
 
 " Indeed you'll not." 
 
 " Too swift for you ? Well, say Sunday after 
 next. By that time you'll eat bread out of my 
 hand." 
 
 " I think you're horrid. Some time, as an ex- 
 periment, why don't you try to be a gentleman? 
 Even if you are studying law it might be worth 
 the attempt." 
 
 " You talk as if this was your first attack on 
 the keyboard. Where did you work last ? " 
 
 " I thought I gave you to understand that this 
 was the first time I had ever worked." 
 
 " Did you? Then I beg your pardon." 
 
 " But what difference ought it to make ? " 
 
 100
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " Oughtn't to make any, but it does. Fault of 
 our civilization. I didn't fix it. It is not that I 
 haven't the same degree of respect for you; I 
 assure you of that." 
 
 " But it is. You and all the rest of the men 
 think you are privileged to be free with a girl 
 that works. I should think that work ought to 
 be the sign of honesty, but it isn't. I liked you at 
 first, but I don't know now whether I do or not. 
 Have I said anything or looked anything that 
 would lead you to believe that I am am to be 
 made free with ? " 
 
 " No. To tell you the truth, it was because 
 old Nevum called you a bird. You must have 
 said something must have shown him that you 
 were out of the ordinary." 
 
 " Oh, and are men free with women that are 
 out of the ordinary? " 
 
 " Well, yes, I suppose they are. But after all, 
 it's a sort of a compliment. We think they un- 
 derstand. Man may not try to, but he has two 
 sets of manners." 
 
 ''' Well, with me you'd better employ the other 
 set" 
 
 " Good. I will. Now we understand each 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 other. And I think you'll find that there's a good 
 deal of the gentleman about me." 
 
 " I don't want to have to look for it. If it's 
 hidden it isn't worth searching for. It ought to 
 be plain. Suppose some one should make as free 
 with your sister as you have with me. What 
 would she do?" 
 
 " Why, she'd say ' cert/ and go ahead. But 
 she lives out in the breezy. The fact is, Miss 
 Dawson, I study so hard at night that I like to 
 let my mind play when the opportunity offers." 
 
 He tried to be serious, but occasionally his re- 
 bellious mind would gamble forth in play. And 
 I did not resent it as much as I pretended to. 
 Everything about him spoke of honesty, if not of 
 truth ; and I believed that he had sentiment. But 
 what difference did that make to me ? He sat not 
 upon the throne of sentiment; he was moneyless 
 and therefore weak. The waiter brought the 
 food and for a time we sat in silence. He had 
 come to the final test of refinement, eating; and 
 I watched him. But why should I have cared 
 whether or not he were refined? 
 
 " I wish you could have seen the girl whose 
 place you took," said he. I asked him if she were 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 pretty, and he answered that she was a fright. 
 " But she caught a fellow with money," he added. 
 " She had brains, and what was more uncommon, 
 he was wise enough to appreciate the fact. It 
 isn't always the handsomest girl that makes the 
 best match." 
 
 " What do you mean by the best match ? " 
 "What, a woman ask such a question? 
 Money, of course. That's the object of life, isn't 
 it ? A woman, living in dread of the first wrinkle, 
 the first gray hair, races against time ; and when 
 she has overtaken money, she has won the race. 
 And we men never know whether that sort of a 
 woman makes the best wife or not. It's only the 
 poor man who is in a position to pass upon the 
 real quality of his wife. As a general thing, a 
 young girl, particularly if she's pretty, hasn't 
 any brains. If the old chap were to think a mo- 
 ment he'd know that she was about the dullest 
 thing in the world ; but he loves her with his fail- 
 ing eyes, and she loves to be loved. Some time 
 ago I went slumming with a party, and the young 
 girls giggled over the moral degradation that 
 came under our view. I guess the average young 
 woman is hopeless. Noble girls, you may say. 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 Yes, I suppose so; but the noblest of them will 
 turn from the most important subject, discussed 
 perforce, to talk with delight on some foolish 
 thing, a ribbon or a feather. So, I want to ask 
 you, a sensible girl, what chance is there for a 
 hard-working young fellow who vaguely looks 
 forward to a home of his own? " 
 
 " How do I know? I was brought up 'in the 
 country." 
 
 " Yes, but that's where you find the most sen- 
 sible young women." 
 
 " I don't believe it," I replied ; and neither did 
 I. He said that the most of the women who 
 wrote for the newspapers came from the country, 
 that they were closer to human nature, in a quiet 
 way, and that was what the public demanded. 
 " But even on a newspaper," he added, " the 
 handsome woman has a better chance than the 
 ugly one. Beauty always looks fresh and inno- 
 cent, while homeliness carries the expression of 
 experience, no matter how modest it may be." 
 
 His smiling conveyed but half belief in his own 
 cynicisms. The freshness of his complexion and 
 the clearness of his eyes spoke of his own mor- 
 ality spoke thus to me, for my estimate was set 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 upon appearances. At this time I did not know 
 how long it took abuses to show in the counte- 
 nance. With the exception of my aunt, who had 
 accused me of having read injurious books, no 
 one had spoken to me on a subject that might 
 bring forward anything that I had found in print ; 
 and I wondered if reading books had gone out 
 of fashion. In society in the country, as frivolous 
 as it was, the young man and the young woman 
 at least pretended to have read certain books. I 
 can recall many an evening when we thought a 
 conversation literary that involved merely the 
 titles of books that scarcely any of us had read. 
 But this young man had mentioned no book. The 
 titles even had been dropped. I asked him what 
 he was reading and he replied, " Storey on 
 Agency." I replied that I had not read it, and 
 asked him if it were good. He laughed and said 
 that it was so considered. It was a law book. 
 
 I liked his eyes when he poured them into mine. 
 It did seem that he poured them, in a dark and 
 glowing stream; and I was amazed at myself to 
 think that I was not embarrassed. In the so- 
 ciety that I had known I should doubtless have 
 felt a sort of shyness. But I was not in society 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 now; this man was my fellow workman. I 
 glanced at a clock. My time was spent and I 
 arose to go. He reached for my check, but I 
 would not permit him to pay for me. We went 
 out together, and as we were going up the steps, 
 my hand on the brass railing touched his. I 
 might have shaken hands with him, without a 
 thought or a feeling, but this simple and acci- 
 dental touch, thrilled me. 
 
 106
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A SEX TO SEX TALK. 
 
 My aunt investigated the financial standing of 
 Nevum and reported to me that he was not avail- 
 able. I replied that, inasmuch as he had a wife 
 and a daughter about grown, I did not believe he 
 was. " I mean in case anything should happen," 
 she said. Of course she did not expect that any 
 one would get a divorce to marry me, simply be- 
 cause I needed money ; and yet she wanted to feel 
 assured that in the vague event of something 
 taking place, there should be money enough to 
 render it interesting. She was a sort of a carica- 
 ture of a desire for wealth. She had mused over 
 money until she was an exaggeration. 
 
 In due time I received a letter from my mother 
 in answer to the one in which I had told her of 
 my independence, but in it there was not much 
 of congratulation. " If everything were not so 
 dull and stupid here I would advise you to come 
 home," she said. " Sufficient time has elapsed for 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 you to meet me without embarrassment I hope." 
 Bless her, I had never thought of meeting her 
 with embarrassment. " The Peytons are very 
 important since their daughter married rich," she 
 went on ; " and several days ago I took the occa- 
 sion to remind the mother that my daughter might 
 have had him and that I could have been talking 
 of coal mines. And she has had the impudence 
 to circulate the report that Pague was the one 
 that backed out, and that to hide your humiliation 
 you ran away to your aunt. This was the rea- 
 son that I reminded her of the truth. But I 
 shall never recover from your foolish caper. 
 Pague won his lawsuit and has returned to Chi- 
 cago with his wife, as you doubtless know by this 
 time. You may say what you please, but I know 
 that Olive is a happy woman. Whenever you feel 
 disposed to come home, do so ; and I hope by that 
 time the report circulated by that snob of a 
 woman will have died out. But false reports live 
 a long time." 
 
 And so Olive and her husband had returned. 
 I wondered why she had not let me know. Could 
 it be that she had heard that I had gone to work 
 and was ashamed of me? 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 Gradually Nevum grew confidential. One day 
 he asked me to lunch with him. I didn't know 
 whether to go or not, and I hesitated. " I have 
 something that I should like to talk to you about 
 and can't spare the time here," he said; and I 
 arose to go with him. Edward came to the door 
 at that moment, and he looked hurt, I thought; 
 but then he had no claim on me. We did not go 
 to the basement restaurant, but to a cafe high 
 from the ground. There was a thick carpet on 
 the floor and there was no noise. The waiters 
 talked in whispers. The girl at the cashier's 
 desk looked at me, then at Nevum and smiled. 
 Nevum startled me by asking the waiter if he 
 had canvass-back duck. The waiter said that 
 they were out of season. " I ought to have known 
 that," replied Nevum. Then he asked me what 
 I should like, and I said that anything would 
 suit. He replied that anything was the hardest 
 order a restaurant could be called on to fill. He 
 ordered quail and something else, I've forgotten 
 what, some little something that added frivolity 
 to his character, I thought; and then he asked 
 if I wished champagne. I replied that it would 
 hinder my work. " There isn't much to do this 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 afternoon," he said. But I declined. An orches- 
 tra struck up off amid some palms, soft and low ; 
 and I thought of Edward, that I should like to 
 see his eyes under the influence of music; and I 
 was musing when Nevum said : " The homely 
 lot of girls we have had in our office have passed 
 into a joke at my expense. As a general thing 
 the pretty girl is inclined to slight her work. 
 Beauty, like anger, has a privilege. So I thought 
 I'd try one of the other sort, this time." He 
 looked at me and smiled, and I was ashamed, 
 somehow. It must have been because the cashier 
 girl had smiled. I replied that I hadn't enough 
 beauty to establish a privilege, and he replied that 
 what I lacked in beauty I made up in wit. " And 
 this was what surprised me," he said. " It is 
 one thing to be handsome, but it is another thing 
 to have a mind. With beauty nature may compli- 
 ment, but with a mind she endows." 
 
 Was this the collector of bad debts? That 
 something which had appeared as age now seemed 
 the maturity of intelligence and of thought. I 
 noticed that his forehead was broad, that his nose 
 was of the dominating type. His mouth was 
 broad and firm. He was almost handsome. 
 
 no
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " What did you wish to talk to me about? " I 
 inquired. 
 
 ' Just to talk. Just to rest. But do you know 
 that I secretly wished that you would refuse to 
 come with me? " 
 
 " It was because you wanted me to compel you 
 to respect me more." 
 
 " Yes, that was it." 
 
 " I was on the point of refusing, but it seemed 
 so like a sort of entreaty; and besides I saw no 
 particular harm in it." 
 
 " Only that I am a married man." 
 
 " Yes, and the harm is not so much to me as 
 to your wife, who would not approve of it, and 
 to your daughter, who would despise me." 
 
 " You didn't think of that." 
 
 " No, not at the time I caught only the 
 shadow of it as it passed through my mind. I 
 ought to go. If you will excuse me, I will." 
 
 " No, no. Sit down. I have something to say 
 to you." I had arisen, but I sat down again. 
 " What is it you wish to say? " 
 
 " That I have no wife I am a widower." He 
 leaned back in his chair and laughed. " But that 
 
 in
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 only excuses you, and leaves me still a criminal," 
 said I. 
 
 " Not if I pardon you." 
 
 " But your pardon is but an emphasis of my 
 guilt." 
 
 " Ha, you are refreshing," he said. " You al- 
 most make me think." 
 
 "Almost?" 
 
 " Yes. I could never quite think, you know. 
 Now let us get at it in a more practical way. I 
 have at some time or other gone out to lunch with 
 every girl we've had in the office, in your posi- 
 tion; and I never told one of them that I was a 
 widower. I was never called upon to sooth their 
 consciences to that extent." 
 
 " Perhaps you never said to them what you 
 did to me." 
 
 " Perhaps not. They didn't inspire it. Now 
 let us get at something else. I did not tell you 
 I was a widower to prepare your mind for some- 
 thing else. You understand ? " I nodded, and he 
 went on. " I should simply like to regard you, 
 once in a while, as a companion. Do you want to 
 know something about me ? " 
 
 " If it's worth hearing yes." 
 
 112
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " All right. In the first place let me say that 
 I despise the business I'm in. I didn't choose it 
 forced into it. I was a lawyer out in a Ne- 
 braska town and got too big for the place. My 
 wife outgrew the society. We were prosperous. 
 I was contented to stay there that is, if she had 
 not made me discontented. She wanted to shine, 
 and when a woman thinks she's too lustrous for 
 her surroundings, her husband is a criminal to 
 keep her there she thinks. So, I formed a co- 
 partnership with a man in Chicago and came 
 here. I moved out of a puddle and found myself 
 in an ocean. The waves drowned my oratory. 
 Oratory at the bar here? They laughed at it. 
 They called me a school-boy. I was a general 
 practitioner. Here everything was specialized 
 office law. I could have gone into the criminal 
 practice and still have thundered before a jury, 
 but there wasn't much money in it, and besides, 
 my wife soon discovered that it wasn't high 
 enough except in the big cases, and they nat- 
 urally went to men of reputation. My partner 
 was an old man, feeble, degenerating into talking 
 about the cases he had years ago. The time came, 
 and came pretty soon, when we had to separate.
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 I didn't know exactly how to break it to him 
 my determination; he liked to talk to me every 
 one else had heard his stories. But death came 
 along and broke it for me. Then I organized 
 this business. I never employed a red wagon. 
 Do you know what that was ? A wagon painted 
 red. It would drive up before a man's place of 
 business and brand him as a financial incurable. 
 The law put a stop to it. But I needed money 
 and I harassed the boys. I wanted to go back to 
 Nebraska and acknowledge my failure, but my 
 wife objected. She was resigned enough when 
 she came to die, but she never would consent to 
 face those women and acknowledge defeat." 
 
 " It isn't too late for you to go back there now, 
 is it?" 
 
 " Not too late for me, but too early for my 
 daughter," he answered, smiling. " She declares 
 that it would be a cruelty to take her out there, 
 and so it would. Her associations have been 
 formed here her habits conform to the usages 
 of this place; and so, with the silken threads of 
 affection I am tied hand and foot. But how I 
 hate this business." 
 
 "If you didn't I shouldn't think you had a 
 114
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 vestige of soul left. I've often thought of that 
 poor old woman the one that owes Scott." 
 
 "Which one is she?" 
 
 " The one who had not been able to keep her 
 obligation. Let me see, what is her name ? " 
 
 " The one who couldn't keep her obligation ? 
 I can tell you her name. It is Legion. The 
 ones that don't live up to their agreements would 
 make a multitude." 
 
 " But this one seemed to be so much distressed. 
 And your agent had pried about her house and 
 found that she had a piano." 
 
 Nevum laughed. " Bless you, no. I didn't 
 know she had a piano. That was a guess. They 
 frequently have a piano, you know, and when we 
 guess right, we've got a good leverage. It's the 
 envy of the neighbors, you know, when a piano 
 is moved in, and the sarcasm when it's moved 
 out. We nearly always collect from a house that 
 has a young woman and a piano. The mother 
 will endure almost any hardship to keep her 
 daughter in the musical swim. Untalented fin- 
 gers can be trained to hide the conversational 
 failings of a shallow mind, you know ; and ignor- 
 ance applauds."
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 I was willing that he should talk, which he did 
 during the entire meal. I was learning some- 
 thing about man, about the tricks and the nar- 
 rowness of his business. 
 
 "Woman's modern education has done one 
 thing for her," he said. 
 
 " It has enabled her better to understand man, 
 and that is the reason that there are so many di- 
 vorces," I replied. 
 
 " Well, not only that," he spoke, laughing, 
 " but it has put her in a position to be man's com- 
 panion aside from any sort of affection other than 
 that which arises out of friendship. Woman is 
 learning to forget sex. Some of them have 
 progressed so far as not to consider marriage the 
 sole aim of life. And I suppose that, regardless 
 of the overcomable difference that nature made 
 between man and woman, you are almost old 
 enough to believe that they ought alike to enjoy 
 the same privileges. That is one of the principles 
 of the Woman's Club, I believe. You don't think 
 that a man ought to go any place where he is 
 not willing to take his wife, do you ? " 
 
 " Why should he, if they are companions ? " 
 
 " Ah, I thought you had reached that age. But 
 
 116
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 you haven't yet arrived at the state of liberality 
 which forgives a woman for a certain transgres- 
 sion, have you? Men forgive men, you know. 
 The fact is they have nothing to forgive. His 
 crime rests mainly with the fact that he some- 
 times boasts of his conquests; and that is more 
 of a bore than a crime. Would you forgive a, 
 woman? " 
 
 " I might if no one else knew of it." 
 
 He put down his knife and fork, wiped his 
 mouth with a napkin, and looked at me. " That 
 ought to be engraved on the cornerstone of the 
 Woman's Temple," said he. " It is the half- 
 smothered acknowledgment of all your sex." 
 
 " I haven't half smothered it." 
 
 " No, for you are a wonder. And sitting here 
 looking at you, I envy the man that shall win 
 your love. It will bless him, for a time, at least." 
 
 " Why for a time at least? " 
 
 " Because he may not have the force to hold 
 you. It is only the domestic woman that is held 
 completely, or rather it is only she who submits 
 after she knows that she is superior to her hus- 
 band. I don't think you are domestic." 
 
 117
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " I like the bouquet better than the kettle, if 
 that's what you mean." 
 
 " That's what I mean ideality. And that 
 costs money. The poor dream, and the rich think 
 that they realize; and when it is all summed up, 
 the poor have had their dreams and the rich have 
 harvested their fallacies. At the last the dreams 
 are the more beautiful, but it takes a god to dis- 
 cover it. We can't. When we have come to 
 know the real truth about any man, we are in- 
 clined to pronounce him unnatural. Deception 
 has become the real, and the natural the unreal 
 thing. Freedom of speech has ever been held as 
 a great privilege. That is man. But freedom of 
 thought is greater. That is God. Well, I must 
 now go back and inform Mrs. Mulcahy that un- 
 less she settles she'll be put out of her shanty. By 
 the way, I have a friend you'd like ; younger than 
 myself architect. He has visions and sees his 
 dreams arise in brick. He sees society held to- 
 gether with mortar. He finds entertainment in 
 the contemplation of mosaic dispositions and fres- 
 coed natures. You would be a study." 
 
 " Is his wife dead and has he a grown daugh- 
 ter?" 
 
 118
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " He has escaped. He is a bachelor hand- 
 some, graceful, learned and rich." 
 
 " The last makes him everything/' I said. 
 
 " Frankness clarified. And I suppose you have 
 persuaded yourself to believe it." 
 
 " I ought to. It was taught me in my cradle. 
 It is the religion of my visual senses." 
 
 " I should think that with such notions you 
 would be moodier. The young woman philoso- 
 pher usually is. In her opinion, man is the elder 
 brother of the devil, and she hates her own sex 
 because man is acknowledged as the master. I 
 must tell Bayless about you the architect. He 
 is a materialized painter. Shall we go?" 
 
 Into the office I went shrinkingly. I dreaded 
 Edward's eyes. 
 
 119
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 COUSIN GEORGE. 
 
 Next day was Saturday, and in the afternoon 
 I walked about alone on the grounds of the great 
 Fair. The weather was perfect, mellowing into 
 the serious glory of autumn. The sky looked as 
 if it had been dipped into the lake, to arise a 
 deeper blue. In the soft air there was music, 
 more than half a dream a day when everything 
 seems at a distance, with a softened sun gauze 
 between. I could imagine myself in any country 
 except my own. Here were uniforms from the 
 court of the Sultan. Mystics had brought the 
 strange religions of the earth to compare them 
 with a religion which to them was strange and 
 barbarous. It was a time to dream of the past, 
 and through half shut eyes to catch glimpses of 
 the sweeter part of the future. I sat on a bench 
 near the water. The gulls were freighting sun- 
 beams on their backs, throwing them at my feet. 
 Suddenly I heard a voice near me, speaking low. 
 
 1 20
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 In it was a remembered note, and I looked toward 
 a bench not far away, and there sat Olive and a 
 young man. Instantly I arose and approached 
 them. Olive saw me and started, I thought. But 
 she sprang up and "cried out that she was de- 
 lighted to see me. And then she introduced the 
 young man, her cousin George, from Ohio. He 
 blushed and bowed to me. 
 
 " Oh, I am ever so glad to see you," said Olive, 
 when I had sat down. " I was coming over to 
 your house when I received a note from Cousin 
 George." " Cousin George " said yes, and Olive 
 continued: " I told you I was coming back be- 
 fore the Fair was over. But Mr. Pague was not 
 hard to manage. He is such a dear. And he has 
 taken such a liking to Cousin George." 
 
 I was young and inexperienced, but I knew 
 that " Cousin George " was none other than 
 Charley. " And you've got to go down to the 
 hotel to dine with us, hasn't she, Cousin 
 George ? " 
 
 " Cousin George " said something that sounded 
 like " by all means." I think he was going to ask 
 me if I liked to dine, when another thought came 
 into his mind, and then he inquired if I liked the 
 
 121
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 Fair. I told him that I was charmed with it, 
 and he remarked that he supposed so. 
 
 " How fortunate that you found us," said 
 Olive. " And your dear aunt. I hope she's well. 
 Oh, you have no idea how stupid West Virginia 
 was when I returned. But everybody was so 
 glad to see me. Friends are so kind when they 
 know we are prosperous." 
 
 " Cousin George " soon found his part in the 
 drama and began to play it. " All of my people 
 were a good bit astonished when they heard 
 Olive was going to marry Mr. Pague," he said. 
 " Not that they had anything against Pague, you 
 know. They'd like him, I'm sure. I met him 
 yesterday for the first time. I came across Olive 
 by accident, in the parlor of the hotel, and shortly 
 afterward he came in. Got a good business head 
 on him, I should think." 
 
 ' Yes, indeed," said Olive. " And you can see 
 that he is very kind to me." 
 
 I could see it. And George said that he could, 
 too, and I suppose he meant it. He was rather 
 a handsome young fellow, slender, with a small 
 neck and a large collar. He tried to talk in a 
 deep voice. He would look you straight in the 
 
 122
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 eye, but it was more of a determination than an 
 unconscious frankness. His eyes were blue, but 
 did not appear strong, and he winked a great 
 deal. He wore low-quarter shoes and purple 
 stockings, and I thought that he must be a good 
 tennis player. His straw hat was encircled by 
 a pink band. His mustache was light and silken ; 
 the silk-worm did not appear to have completed 
 the work. 
 
 " You and Cousin George will soon feel that 
 you have known each other for years," said 
 Olive. " He is so easy to get acquainted with. 
 I was so thoroughly convinced of this that I told 
 Mr. Pague that you had know each other al- 
 most from childhood. Isn't that a good joke? 
 And you'll humor it, of course. I do so much 
 enjoy having a joke on Mr. Pague. He is so 
 lacking in a sense of humor, you know. Yes, and 
 when we go to the hotel you say George and he'll 
 say Gypsy. Won't that be fun? He is engaged 
 to a beautiful girl in Cincinnati, so you see you 
 are safe with him." 
 
 I thought that she said this to make it safe 
 for herself. " Come on," she added, " and let 
 us go through the Art Palace." 
 
 123
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 F'or a long time we looked at the pictures. 
 Sometimes Olive and George would stand with 
 their heads close together, to admire a painting, 
 a better view of which could have been obtained 
 from the further side of the room. When close 
 together they were silent. When apart they 
 chatted. 
 
 We came out into the twilight. Olive was ex- 
 cited. She did not know it was nearly so late, 
 she said. She wanted to hasten to the hotel, but 
 I told her that I could not make one of the com- 
 pany unless she agreed to go with me to my aunt's 
 house. It was necessary that I should explain 
 the cause of my not coming home to dinner. She 
 consented, but urged me to hurry. Dinner was 
 ready when we arrived at my home. Aunt Elinor 
 sought to persuade George and Olive to remain 
 and to grace her table with their company, but 
 Olive, and much excited, too, I thought, declared 
 that it would be impossible. So I went to the 
 hotel. Old Pague was walking up and down the 
 room. Upon seeing me he appeared to be re- 
 lieved of a deep trouble. " Ah," he said, " I'm 
 delighted to meet you again." 
 
 Perhaps he was. 
 
 124
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " George was so anxious to see her that we 
 went to her house," said Olive. 
 
 " It's been some time since I saw Gyp/' George 
 remarked. " We used to play together, you 
 know." 
 
 " So I understand," Pague remarked. " Let's 
 go to dinner." 
 
 At the table Olive was very sweet to Pague. 
 She wanted every one to observe how fond she 
 was of him. At this he smiled and was pleased. 
 And yet men talk about the weakness and the van- 
 ity of women. The old fool believed that she loved 
 him for himself. Vanity has its rewards and 
 is deserving of its punishments. I was party to 
 a deception, to an immorality ; and yet I was not 
 ashamed of myself. I enjoyed it. 
 
 In the room, after dinner, Pague was disposed 
 to nod. Olive asked him if he didn't want to go 
 to the theater, and he shuddered. " Ah," she 
 said, " I know you must be tired. It would be 
 cruel to drag you out. Gypsy, suppose you and 
 George and I go." 
 
 Pague said that he wasn't very tired. He 
 would go. It had been a long time since George 
 had seen me, his playfellow, and doubtless he 
 
 125
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 had much to say to me, but he walked with Olive. 
 Pague and I were some distance behind. " Seems 
 to be a very nice young chap/' said Pague. I 
 said that he was. " Her aunt's son first cou- 
 sin," said Pague. " Her Aunt Molly's son," I re- 
 plied ; and this lie tickled me immensely. He was 
 not jealous. I understand that old men are not, 
 as a general thing. They have too much confi- 
 dence in themselves. But Olive pretended to be 
 jealous of me, and Pague looked as if he had just 
 won another law suit. " But all the same," said 
 Olive, " I'm coming out Thursday evening to 
 stay all night with you." 
 
 " I'll hold you to your promise," said I. 
 
 " You don't have to hold me. I'm willing 
 enough. We haven't had our long talk yet. I 
 want to tell you of our plans." 
 
 We were now going in at the door of the the- 
 ater. 
 
 Olive sat beside her husband, and I saw her 
 squeeze his hand. " Most remarkable little 
 woman," he whispered to me. The play was writ- 
 ten around an intriguing woman who deceived 
 her husband. Olive whispered that it was shame- 
 
 126
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 less. Pague declared it unnatural. George tried 
 to yawn, but was keenly interested. 
 
 After the performance we went to supper. 
 Olive walked with her " cousin." Pague told me 
 how happy he was. " My friends advised me not 
 to marry a young girl," he said. ' They declared 
 that at most she would give me a sort of daugh- 
 ter love. But Olive and I are as happy as if I 
 were twenty years younger." 
 
 No matter how old a man may be he talks of 
 being twenty years younger. He held back and 
 let them walk quite a distance in advance of us. 
 I knew that he wanted to say something. Pretty 
 soon he began : " I was desperately cast down 
 when you left home," he said. " I thought you 
 could learn to love me, as Olive has done, but 
 women are differently constituted. She doesn't 
 seem to be any warmer, but I suppose she's more 
 affectionate than you are. You ought to see a 
 pair of slippers she worked for me with her 
 own hands. Still, I could have been happy with 
 you." 
 
 I broke out laughing. Slippers and happi- 
 ness with me ! He asked me what I was laughing 
 at. " Something the comedian said," I replied. 
 
 127
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " But you were fhe judge as to whether or not 
 we could be happy together," he went on. " It 
 was not for me to say." 
 
 " I don't think I could be happy with any one," 
 I replied. 
 
 " Perhaps not," he assented.- And then he 
 said: " Ah, and I trust you will not take offense 
 when I remark that Olive is better suited to me." 
 
 " Not at all, for I think she is. She is more 
 thoughtful than I am." 
 
 " Well, let us say, soberer and better devel- 
 oped," he replied. I said that I thought she must 
 be better developed. 
 
 After supper Olive declared that I should go 
 home in a carriage. " It is a long way, but we 
 won't mind riding any distance to accommodate 
 an old friend, will we dear ? " This remark was 
 addressed to Pague. His countenance fell. He 
 said that he didn't suppose that I would object 
 to going alone. Olive spoke up before I could 
 open my lips. " Oh, that would never do," she 
 said. " I know you are tired, dear, but really 
 well, you understand. A young 1 lady going about 
 alone this time of night wouldn't look well; and 
 I'm sure her aunt would never forgive me. Cou- 
 
 128
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 sin George, what are you going to do? You 
 never cared for me as much as you did for Gypsy, 
 but I was going to say that you could go and 
 come back with me. And dear, you can go to 
 the hotel, for you have been busy all day. Gypsy, 
 I never saw a man that could stand as much. But 
 there's a limit to any one's strength. Will you 
 go with me, Cousin George ? " 
 
 George said that perhaps he could. " But I 
 want to get back to my hotel in time to write a 
 letter to my mother to-night," he added. " I've 
 got a good deal to tell her, too about how happy 
 you are, and all that sort of thing. She used to 
 laugh at you, you remember, when you said you'd 
 never marry a boy. But dad used to applaud 
 when you said you'd not marry any but a mature 
 man of brains. If you start right away I guess I 
 can go." 
 
 Pague asked how far it was. Olive made the 
 distance twice as great. The old man looked at 
 me. He was ashamed not to let her have her 
 way. So Olive, George and I got into a carriage. 
 For a few moments Pague stood at the door. She 
 leaned over and whispered to him. She must 
 have asked him if she were unworthy of trust. 
 
 129
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 He shut the door and we drove off, Olive and 
 George on the front seat. Her vivacity had de- 
 parted. They were close together and were 
 silent. Occasionally I broke the silence with a 
 word. Sometimes neither of them answered. 
 Once Olive replied: " Oh, did you speak, dear? 
 I was thinking about the plans of a house Mr. 
 Pague intends to build." 
 
 When the carriage drew up in front of my 
 aunt's house Olive said that she was surprised at 
 the shortness of the distance. " Why, Mr. Pague 
 could have come just as well as not," she said. 
 George replied: "Yes, think he could." They 
 bade me good night, and when the carriage had 
 turned about I heard George say to the driver: 
 ' You needn't be so infernally swift going back." 
 
 My aunt came up to my room. " Who is the 
 fellow with her ? " she inquired. 
 
 " She says that he's her Cousin George." 
 
 " Bah. Did you ever see him before ? " I told 
 her the truth, that I had not. " Do you know 
 what I think? I think old Pague's a fool," she 
 declared, slowly shaking her head. 
 
 130
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE SCOUNDREL, MONEY. 
 
 Nevum's letters, when again I took up my 
 work, threatened at least half a dozen unfortu- 
 nates with the penitentiary. One woman had, he 
 declared, obtained money under false pretenses, 
 and he was doing her a kindness to let her know 
 that unless she settled immediately, something of 
 a very embarrassing nature might happen. " Let 
 me see," he said, when I had turned to the ma- 
 chine. " Guess I'd better soften some of them 
 down a little. They might raise the question that 
 I had used the United States mail for threatening 
 purposes. The government is rather skittish in 
 that way." 
 
 He softened some, hardened others, and then 
 leaned back in his chair and looked like a man 
 who deserved self satisfaction in the knowledge 
 that he had done a good forenoon's work. After 
 a while he came over and stood near my desk.
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " You have impressed me as a girl who believes 
 that a man and a woman can be friends." 
 
 " The same quality that makes them enemies, 
 if they have been such, ought to make them 
 friends," I replied, halting in my work, for I 
 knew that he wanted to talk and I was willing 
 enough to humor him. 
 
 " That was very well said. You know that at 
 my age a man ought to be practical, if formerly 
 htf has been foolish, and foolish if formerly prac- 
 tical. I don't mean, of course, that he ought to 
 be, but that unfortunately he is. What do you 
 think of it?" 
 
 " I don't know that I understand you clearly." 
 
 " I suppose not. You know that in talking to 
 a speculative woman a man shouldn't be very 
 clear. In order to keep himself interesting he 
 must perplex her a little just a little. He must 
 engage her mind, and a woman's mind is never 
 very much engaged with things that can be seen 
 through at a glance." 
 
 " I didn't know that," I replied. 
 
 " But it's a fact." 
 
 He was making free with me; I would make 
 free with him. " Then," said I, " you think that 
 
 132
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 with a certain sort of vagueness you have en- 
 gaged my mind and interested me." 
 
 " Well, let me hope so." He laughed, not un- 
 pleasantly. He changed his position slightly, 
 leaned a little more on my desk. " I think we 
 could be very good friends," he said. I nodded 
 and he continued : " It would be nonsense to 
 talk of love between us." I nodded again, and a 
 flush mounted to his face, seeming for a moment 
 to redden his thin and grayish hair. " This 
 does not imply that I could not love you," he 
 added, after a time; and I looked up at him 
 and was silent. " Any man with a soul could love 
 you," he said. I realized that it was not much 
 money that was talking; it was the prattle of 
 small change, and I was not seriously considering 
 him. Had he been a millionaire, perhaps I should 
 have fluttered, but his letters to " bad debts " had 
 been so urgent and withal so distressful that he 
 appeared himself to be in need of money. So I 
 was calm. " During your short term," he said, 
 smiling, " more than one man has doubtless loved 
 you. Am I right ? " 
 
 " I don't know," I answered. " I haven't been 
 much in society. I can recall the avowed passions 
 
 133
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 of certain neighborhood boys, but they don't 
 count." 
 
 " You remember just the avowal of passion. 
 Is that all?" 
 
 " I remember that one, in his frenzy, grabbed 
 me and kissed me." 
 
 " Kissed you. It wasn't a frenzy it was an 
 inspiration. Come, now, I am your father con- 
 fessor. Did you feel outraged? " 
 
 " I liked it. He was handsome and his face 
 was clean." 
 
 Nevum laughed and played with an eraser that 
 lay on the desk. " You are very human, but does 
 that make you humane ? Are you sympathetic ? " 
 
 " I think so. I am envious, and envy is but the 
 opposite side of sympathy." 
 
 ' You are sharp and philosophical, I know 
 that. Was your father a learned man, a man of 
 thought?" 
 
 " He must have been a man of remorseful 
 thought; he was a drunkard." 
 
 " Hum. Whisky leaves its mark in brightness 
 or degeneracy. Did you know that ? " 
 
 " I have never studied the question." 
 
 " I haven't either, but I believe it's true. And 
 
 134
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 exceeding piety sometimes breaks out, in the fol- 
 lowing generation, in riotousness and dissipation. 
 Look at the children of preachers. Nature re- 
 sents too much restraint. It will not long put 
 up with interference. But we are getting off the 
 subject. I was saying that any one could love 
 you." 
 
 " Yes, I remember." 
 
 '' Which, of course, included myself." He 
 looked at me, and I told him that it would nat- 
 urally seem so. He laughed. " We haven't 
 known each other very long," he said. 
 
 " No, not very." 
 
 ;< But here everything is swift," he went on. 
 " Acquaintance, friendship, love are all of them 
 swift. Did you know that ? " 
 
 " I don't like for any one to keep on saying 
 'did you know that?'" 
 
 " I beg your pardon. It is a foolish habit of 
 mine. I'll try to correct it. But you have discov- 
 ered that everything in this town is swift, haven't 
 you?" 
 
 ' They say that divorces are." 
 
 " Yes, like everything else. Er you couldn't 
 learn to love me, could you ? " 
 
 135
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 I had to laugh, not at him particularly, for he 
 must have embodied Chicago's idea of swiftness, 
 but the slowness of West Virginia was not 
 wholly departed from me, and perhaps it was the 
 lingering part of my old self that laughed. 
 
 " I mean it," he said. 
 
 " I don't think I could. You interest me, but 
 when we love we must love aside from all inter- 
 est, I should think. I don't believe there is any 
 such thing as intellectual love. There is admira- 
 tion, almost adoration but love, pure and sim- 
 ple, is an animal quality." 
 
 " Where did you get that notion ? " he said, 
 straightening up and standing clear of the desk. 
 
 " I don't know that I got it anywhere. I must 
 have felt it." 
 
 " Then you think that love is simply a desire 
 on the part of nature to reproduce herself ? " And 
 before I could answer him, he added : "I never 
 expected to hear a girl talk this way. You must 
 have read books whose very seriousness close 
 them for the majority of your sex. Then you 
 believe that love is physical, do you?" 
 
 ' Well, the reflex of the physical acting upon 
 the something we call sentiment, which of itself is 
 
 136
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 likewise physical. If it were not, why are older 
 people less sentimental ? " 
 
 " You are strong enough to be a George Eliot 
 to defy society." 
 
 " She wasn't strong enough. She only thought 
 she was; and in that she wasn't any stronger 
 than the average woman who wants her own way 
 and has it. But why do you speak of George 
 Eliot? Didn't she love the man she lived with? " 
 
 " Yes, despite society." 
 
 " But that wasn't strength," I insisted. " It 
 would require more strength in a woman not to 
 live with the man she loves but the greatest 
 strength of all would be to live with one she 
 didn't love." 
 
 " Perhaps so," he assented, looking straight 
 into my eyes. " Then you couldn't, in justice to 
 yourself, marry me ? " 
 
 I shook my head. 
 
 He smiled. " I always thought it easy enough 
 to get well, to get around a woman of marked 
 intelligence, for they can be reasoned with; but 
 you are hard." 
 
 " I don't think so, Mr. Nevum. You spoke the 
 other day of forgetting sex. That's what I have 
 
 137
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 done. I've talked to you just as if we were both 
 men." 
 
 " Yes, that is true. Well, say that you wouldn't 
 marry me would you in any way I hardly 
 know how to put it." 
 
 " Perhaps a thing that you don't know how to 
 put ought not to be put." 
 
 " But since we are talking so frankly and un- 
 derstand each other so well, there can be no par- 
 ticular harm in it. I was going to ask you if in 
 any way you could make up your mind to a rela- 
 tionship closer than that of friendship? Could 
 you?" 
 
 I did not pretend to misunderstand him. I 
 shook my head. At that moment a boy came in 
 and handed a card to Nevum. " Oh, tell them to 
 come in," he said, going toward the door. Three 
 men were in the waiting room. They came in 
 and shook hands with Nevum. Two of them 
 were elderly. The other was comparatively 
 young, grave of countenance and with a mechan- 
 ical smile that made him more serious. He was 
 a preacher. He began to talk about the church 
 debt. Nevum was deeply interested. " You are 
 the man to finance this scheme," said the 
 
 138
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 preacher. The other two men nodded their 
 heads. Nevum hemmed and hawed. He had 
 felt the heavy obligation under which the church 
 was groaning, he said, sighing. " And to lift 
 that debt would be the pride of my life," he added. 
 " If we could only induce the younger members 
 to become more interested. Ah, the church isn't 
 what it was, my dear brothers. There is not that 
 earnestness, that fervor that once characterized 
 it." The others had sat down? Nevum stood, 
 slowly pressing the ends of his fingers together 
 and then pulling apart as they were glued. " I 
 think that this fall we ought to have an old-time 
 revival. That would have a great moral force." 
 
 It was now noon-time and I went out to lunch, 
 leaving them deep in their pious talk. To me it 
 was not a matter of surprise that Nevum should 
 turn with such ease from our free discussion to 
 the moral restrictions of the church. Insight is 
 a matter of birth, as well as of education and ex- 
 perience, and I knew that, like the most of men, 
 he was only true to the minute and the occasion. 
 
 Edward was not in the office as I passed out, 
 but just as I sat down at a table in the basement 
 restaurant he came forward and asked permis- 
 
 139
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 sion to spend the lunch hour in my company. I 
 laughingly replied that the place was free. After 
 looking so long into the harassed countenance of 
 Nevum, how fresh and how handsome was this 
 young man, free from the taint of Chicago and 
 its swiftness. His laugh was music. His eyes 
 were music, just hushed, when the strains so live 
 that we imagine we can see them. 
 
 " The old man's entertaining a church com- 
 mittee, I believe," he said. 
 
 " Yes, he is going to lift the debt." 
 " Well, if it's a bad debt he can come near it, 
 I guess. Has he asked you to marry him yet? " 
 " What a question. Is that his habit? " 
 " I don't know whether you'd call it his habit 
 or his nature. Now let's see what they've got in 
 this foundry. " He handed me the bill of fare. 
 And after the orders had been given he said : " I 
 got a letter from my short-haired sister out in 
 Kansas, and she informs me that she's going to 
 marry some sort of a reformer, I believe." But 
 he laughed in a way that showed he was not cyn- 
 ical ; his was a good humor with just enough acid, 
 a cranberry sauce. He had about him the care- 
 lessness that showed the carefulness of educa- 
 
 140
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 tion. He had not the hard precision of the self- 
 made man. His graces had grown up with him, 
 and unlike the graces of an education later in 
 life, seemed every one of them to fit and to show 
 off his unconscious dignity. And to me, the only 
 dignity that has any charm is the dignity that 
 seeks to undermine and to overturn itself. How 
 shapely were his hands, and his gestures were as 
 silent oratory. 
 
 ' Your predecessor," said he, " told me that 
 Brother Nevum wanted to marry her; and she 
 may have thought so, but I don't think the old 
 fox wants to marry. You never saw his daugh- 
 ter, did you? She's a whip; she pops. And I 
 guess she's looking forward to the time when 
 she'll make some man miserable. Yes, rather 
 handsome sort of a crushed berry mouth not 
 unlike yours, by the way. But this is not saying 
 that you are to make any one miserable. You 
 could make some fellow deucedly happy if it 
 weren't against the present day religion of 
 women. Nevum's daughter makes him toe the 
 mark; she makes a prod of her affection for him, 
 or rather of his love for her. And I guess he 
 does love her. Don't think I could." 
 
 141
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " But has any one asked you to love her ? Must 
 a girl be gauged by the fact that you could or 
 couldn't love her ? " 
 
 " No, not as to the public, but yes, so far as I 
 am concerned; and it's my concern that shapes 
 her, after all. When this girl gets through her 
 Vassarization, so to speak, the old man can't live 
 in the same block with her. I suppose, however, 
 that you advocate higher education for women." 
 
 " I've never had enough of it to know what it 
 tastes like," I replied. " But it seems to make 
 women look for something they can't find in 
 man; and that is complete fellowship with them- 
 selves with women. Our school was thought to 
 be one of the higher sort. I mean my school 
 where I studied logic and all that sort of thing." 
 
 " The only true logic is love," he said. The 
 waiter was placing dishes before us, and I saw 
 him smile. " Did you understand me ? " Edward 
 inquired when the waiter had withdrawn. 
 
 " I heard you. But what was there about it 
 to understand ? " 
 
 " Nothing, unless you think there is. But what 
 does logic amount to? What does anything 
 amount to, for that matter anything in life ex- 
 
 142
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 cept love? Love moves the world; not such as 
 our elders would have us believe, the cool and re- 
 spectable sort. But the bounding, the torrential 
 love of two great souls. And any soul on fire is 
 great." 
 
 " But those who have experienced such love 
 tell us it can't live," I replied, wondering if it 
 could. 
 
 "Yes," he said, "that is what the bloodless 
 tell us." 
 
 " But doesn't there come a time when we are 
 all bloodless?" 
 
 ' Yes," he admitted, for he had to, as much as 
 he would have liked to declare it untrue. " Yes, 
 but a love that has been true may not die even 
 then. It may feed on beautiful and delicious 
 memories. My father and mother love each 
 other. They met romantically, were married ro- 
 mantically lived by hard work and were happy. 
 If they had married for money they might have 
 been miserable." 
 
 Here was the old doctrine from a young man. 
 My mother would have scoffed him; my aunt 
 would have looked upon him with contempt. But 
 he talked from the depths of his own poverty, 
 
 143
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 and no conviction is so strong as the one which 
 comes not out of reason, but which circumstances 
 have compelled us to feel. His ideas seemed as 
 an essence from an old book. I could see the 
 leather binding, the yellowing pages. But above 
 us, in this mid-day, was an electric light; and 
 that was the glare of the revolution. " The 
 truth makes you sigh as if you regret it," he 
 said. " Are you sorry that love is real ? " 
 
 " I am sorry that it is not more fortunate," I 
 answered. " Why should it always be so poor ? " 
 
 " Because money is a scoundrel," he replied. 
 " Ah," he added sorrowfully, looking into my 
 eyes, " somebody has sought to poison your mind 
 and I don't know but with some success, too. 
 Who has been talking to you ? " 
 
 "The scoundrel himself money; envy." 
 
 " Don't say that. You looked hard when you 
 said it. I know you've got a great soul. Don't 
 try to hide it." 
 
 " If I have a great soul, which I doubt, I must 
 hide it from some one myself." 
 
 ' You are the frankest woman I ever saw. But 
 will you go still further too the limit of such' 
 
 144
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 opinions and say that you wouldn't marry a poor 
 man?" 
 
 " Yes, I will go that far. I wouldn't." 
 
 " Not if you loved him? " 
 
 " I wouldn't permit myself to love him." 
 
 " A woman who talks of permitting herself to 
 love couldn't love," he said. I arose and he asked 
 if it were time to go. I yearned to stay longer, 
 to hear his voice, to look upon his perplexity, 
 sweetened, with his earnest eyes, but I told him 
 lightly that I must return to the office; and so 
 I left him, with a glowing sadness in my heart." 
 
 145
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 DID NOT ASK A QUESTION. 
 
 I did not see Olive nor hear from her, but I 
 remembered that she was to spend Thursday 
 night with me, and I waited impatiently for her, 
 but she didn't come. I thought that perhaps 
 Pague had hastily decided to return home, and 
 that in her disappointment she had forgotten to 
 write to me. But Saturday afternoon I went 
 to the hotel and found her there in the parlor 
 with " Cousin George." 
 
 " Oh," she cried, " I must see you at once. I 
 have been thinking for two or three days that 
 I would write to you, but really I haven't had 
 time. George has kept me on the go, haven't you, 
 George? Let me see you out here, just a mo- 
 ment." 
 
 I went with her out into the hall, and she said, 
 in a soft and persuasive voice : " About Thurs- 
 day night let me tell you. Now you won't 
 think anything wrong, will you? Why, in the 
 
 146
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 evening George and I were out at Evanston to 
 look at the college; and the first thing we knew 
 the trains had stopped running something the 
 matter with the road; a strike, I think they said. 
 And so I had to remain until morning, but 
 George walked back. Just think of it, walked all 
 that way. I knew that Mr. Pague wouldn't be 
 uneasy, because he thought I was at your house, 
 so I didn't telegraph him; and when I returned 
 he took it for granted that I had been with you, 
 and was so pleased at the idea that I didn't un- 
 deceive him. So, don't let on that I wasn't at 
 your house for, dear, it would be cruel to unde- 
 ceive him at this late day, wouldn't it? And he's 
 so fond of you, too." 
 
 I don't know what I should have said, but at 
 this very moment I saw Pague coming down 
 the hall. He held out his hand and said that he 
 was delighted to see me, although I had kept his 
 wife from him so long. 
 
 " But, dear, we don't see each other very 
 often," Olive hastened to declare. " And just 
 think, when I leave here it is no telling when I 
 shall see her again." 
 
 We entered the parlor, where " Cousin 
 
 147
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 George " sat on a sofa, looking at the ceiling, 
 whistling softly. Olive endearingly commanded 
 her husband to sit down. She wanted to see if 
 she could remember a piece of music she had 
 heard at the Fair; and going to the piano she 
 played, with her most delicate touch, a love waltz. 
 " That is for you," she said, turning about to 
 smile sweetly at Pague; and he was hereupon 
 taken with" such rapture of her that he hastened 
 to her and embraced her as she sat on the piano 
 stool. George ceased to whistle, and with his 
 lips still pursed, looked on gravely, while the old 
 man, casting a glance at me, was happy in the 
 possession of Olive, seeming to say to me, " Ah, 
 you see how fortunate you made me when you ran 
 away." 
 
 George got up lazily and said that it was time 
 for him to go. Olive asked him what his hurry 
 was, and reproached him for not permitting her 
 of late to see more of his company. " I shall tell 
 my aunt that you haven't been very attentive," 
 said she; and he drawled that he had been very 
 busy. " Well," he added, " I may possibly see 
 you again before I leave. Oh, by the way, mother 
 will be here day after to-morrow. You must 
 
 148
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 come out to see her. Can you come with her, Mr. 
 Pague?" 
 
 Olive laughed merrily. " Can he come? Now, 
 listen to that. Don't you know that, as good as 
 she is, he would tire of her in a moment and want 
 to bring me away? With all of her virtues she 
 is beset " and here she left off to make fondling 
 motions at Pague " beset with a never-ending 
 desire to talk about her ailments. You could never 
 put up with that, and it tires me, but I have to 
 stand it. Tell her, George, that I will be out for 
 a little while, but that Mr. Pague is busy. Dear," 
 she added, running her rosy fingers through the 
 thin winter stubble on Pague's head, " I shall not 
 submit you to any such weariness as to listen to 
 my aunt's never-ending drone about ill-health. 
 She says she knows that she will like you because 
 you are old and can therefore sympathize with 
 her. I resented this yes, when George told me 
 she said it I resented it, and I was determined 
 then that she shouldn't sit up and talk to my hus- 
 band as if he were a hundred years old. I am 
 half inclined not to go myself, though I was al- 
 ways her favorite niece." 
 
 " Oh, you'll have to go," said Pague. " It 
 
 149
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 would never do to hurt her feelings. But I can't 
 go; and you wouldn't ask it, would you? " 
 
 " No, dear, I've told you I wouldn't." She 
 walked off toward the door with George, said 
 that she had a message for her aunt, and went 
 out into the hall-way with him. Pague turned 
 to me and said that the weather was charming, 
 and he said it as if he thought it were a discovery 
 on his part and that I ought to give him credit 
 for it. Knowing so well the part that Olive was 
 playing, perhaps it might have been the province 
 of true and lofty virtue to tell him. But I could 
 not. The deception was amusing shameless, it 
 is true, but amusing to me ; and now I found that 
 in my own heart virtue did not sit arrayed in its 
 brightest colors. Ah, and who had taught me 
 virtue? Had not my mother pointed to money? 
 Was not money the greatest of all cheats, the 
 shrewdest of all deceivers? And what had this 
 old man himself done, except to teach Olive to 
 deceive herself into the belief that she could learn 
 to love him! That love which we learn, what a 
 curse ! 
 
 When Olive returned she kissed old Pague 
 kissed him toward the door. Her constant study 
 
 150
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 was to be rid of him. And as I looked at her I 
 mused, " How you would like to kiss him out of 
 your life." He asked her if she did not feel dis- 
 posed to take a walk, and she answered that she 
 was tired, And at this moment she looked as 
 if she might aptly have posed for the portrait 
 of weariness; but a minute later, when Pague 
 went out to meet some one who had sent for him, 
 she bounded across the floor, sprang upon the 
 sofa and, seizing the pillow, hugged it in her 
 ardent arms. Then over the pillow she peeped 
 at me. 
 
 " Olive," I said, " you have made me a party 
 to your deception." I felt virtuous as I said this, 
 and I looked hard at her. She was greatly sur- 
 prised. " Deception ? Why, Gyp, whatever can 
 you mean? You know I never deceived you?" 
 
 " Oh, I know that. But you must have thought 
 you did." 
 
 " I declare I don't understand you." 
 
 " Don't please don't think I'm a fool, Olive. 
 That fellow is Charley, and you went out to 
 Evanston with no intention of returning that 
 night." 
 
 " Oh, how cross you are. And my, how sus-
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 picious. When Mr. Pague comes back, tell him 
 what you think. It will be such fun for you. 
 
 And when I am disgraced " She peeped at 
 
 me from behind the sofa pillow. I went over to 
 her, sat down beside her and took her hands in 
 mine. " Please don't lecture me," she pleaded, 
 with tears in her eyes. " Don't call me weak, for 
 it wasn't weakness it was strength of love. 
 One of these days perhaps you may know. But 
 as long as you don't, please don't lecture me. 
 Don't tell me what I ought not to do or what I 
 should do. I know all that as well as you do. 
 Oh, if you only knew the misery day after day, 
 night after night; and then the freedom that 
 nature intended. If you only knew. In the first 
 place, I did as I was commanded. I was dutiful. 
 And I tried to love him oh, how hard I tried. 
 I tried to be faithful to him. But nature all of 
 nature, birds, flowers, the very sun arose against 
 it. Now I have gone so far that I can't be truth- 
 ful. Now nothing but deception can be kind." 
 
 She sat up, she tumbled the pillow upon the 
 floor, she looked at me almost defiantly. " It 
 would be nothing more than right just to humili- 
 ate them all," she said. " They brought it on 
 
 152
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 themselves. My shame and my suffering 
 amounted to nothing in their sight. They 
 warmed themselves by the fire that was consum- 
 ing me. They reproached me with my education ; 
 they said that as they had made sacrifices to send 
 me to school, I ought to make a sacrifice in my 
 turn. And I made it. Yes, I made it, and shall 
 continue to make it, so far as they know as I 
 shall permit them to know. Hush, he's coming/' 
 
 She wiped her eyes and took up the pillow. 
 When Pague entered the room she was laugh- 
 ing. " Oh, that's the funniest thing," she said. 
 " Gypsy was just telling me of some of her ex- 
 periences in the office." 
 
 Pague sat down and requested me to " repeat " 
 the story. " Oh, it wasn't intended for you," 
 Olive laughed. " It was only one of those little 
 feminine things that wouldn't interest a man." 
 
 " Oh, I don't know," he replied, smiling upon 
 her. " What was it, Miss Gypsy? " 
 
 " Nothing, only the janitor of the building 
 came to me, told me that he had saved up three 
 hundred dollars and that he would present it to 
 me, together with a wedding ring." 
 
 He laughed and declared that I could not al- 
 
 153
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 ways escape. " One of these days there will come 
 
 along a fellow to capture your heart " 
 
 " As you captured mine," Olive broke in ; and 
 he reached over and took her hand and held it, 
 looking triumphantly at me. Olive smiled. 
 " How I am sobering down into an old and staid 
 married woman," she remarked, shifting the light 
 of her smile from me to Pague. " Mother says 
 she never saw a girl change so fast. And for 
 the better, dear," she added, as her husband 
 patted the back of her hand. In my heart I 
 wished that she would " kiss him " out of the 
 room. I had never found her so interesting as 
 when she talked of her misery, for in it I heard 
 the note of stolen happiness. In the eye of the 
 law, morality justice to all others save herself, 
 she had committed a crime. I knew this, and 
 yet I found it hard to condemn her. Both of us 
 had been taught to deceive. We had been reared 
 to believe that it was legitimate to exchange 
 " love " for money. Having done this, how far 
 was it a moral wrong to exchange love for love, 
 passion for passion? Nature is the mother of 
 passion. But who is the mother of avarice? So- 
 ciety. Then, if we deceive society, we have taken 
 
 154
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 advantage of avarice. Virtue, instilled from 
 birth and the companion of the cradle, would 
 have shown to me the fallacy of this argument. 
 
 " Oh, let's go to the Fair," cried Olive, with 
 the ardor of an inspiration. She bounded to her 
 feet, she danced in the vigor of her glee. She 
 did not give Pague time to reply. She seized 
 him about the neck to hug him into obedience; 
 and when she had succeeded, she began to kiss 
 him into another sort of compliance, to let her 
 go, but not to accompany her. It was a delight 
 to see her " work " him, to shape him in her 
 hands ; and he smiled and yielded, this tough old 
 man of money. So Olive and I went out together, 
 and when we were in the street she gripped my 
 arm and cried : " Oh, what freedom." 
 
 On a bench near the lake we sat in the mellow 
 sunlight. Afar off where the bands were playing 
 there seemed to be gathering a storm of music. 
 
 " I wonder if you can ever know what free- 
 dom means," said my companion, dreamily look- 
 ing at me. 
 
 " I think I am prepared to know," I answered. 
 " Once I ran away from slavery." 
 
 155
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " Ah, yes, the slavery that I now enjoy," she 
 laughed. " But there was something about you 
 that I didn't possess," she added. " You were 
 weaker, or stronger or something, I don't know 
 what. And do you condemn me very much 
 now? " she asked, with her eyes turned upon me. 
 
 " I ought to, Olive, but I can't." 
 
 She nestled closer to me. She pressed my 
 hand. 
 
 " If I am to be defended, nature herself must 
 supply my argument," she said. " Since my mar- 
 riage I have read constantly the bible and the 
 moral books that have grown out of it, but nature 
 was stronger than all. My own intelligence con- 
 demns me. I know that I am not to blame for a 
 temptation, for that arises unbidden in the mind. 
 But when I yield, I commit an act and am to 
 blame. In the night I have wept over it ; but out 
 in the sunshine when it would seem that my error 
 would be dark in the light, like a reproachful 
 shadow, I have looked upon it as a freedom, as a 
 rebellion against the ancient regime of tyranny." 
 
 I told her that she needed not to defend herself 
 to me. But soon I understood that she liked to 
 talk about her crime, because it was sweet to her. 
 
 156
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " Ah, but have you thought of the end ? " said I ; 
 and she gave me a reproachful look. " It is the 
 June day that delights us, and we'd be ungrateful 
 to look forward into the night unless we found 
 the night beautiful, too," she replied. I did not 
 doubt that she had been reading, not moral books, 
 but Byron. " But what can the end be? " I per- 
 sisted. 
 
 '' We shall always love each other," she replied. 
 
 " But sooner or later Pague must suspect or 
 know the truth. Then what ? " 
 
 " Oh, you what do they call it ? Cross exam- 
 iner? That's what you are. Why, it would be 
 a scandal, of course. Weren't you and I both 
 brought up in an atmosphere that ripens scandal ? 
 Haven't we known of them in our own neigh- 
 borhood?" And after sitting in silence for a 
 time she said : "I am glad you don't condemn 
 me. .But I wasn't very much afraid. You are 
 not helping me to deceive Mr. Pague, but assist- 
 ing him to deceive himself; and that's what he 
 wants." 
 
 There were questions that I should have liked 
 to ask. Into mysteries she had been initiated. 
 From her eyes had fallen the golden scales of in- 
 
 157
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 nocence, and out of that heaven-born blindness 
 she had come forth into the light, to view the 
 world, herself, to remember the truth and to 
 compare it with the imagined. But modesty is 
 more than a film and I could not break it. I did 
 not ask a question. 
 
 158
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 THE PREACHER'S WORDS. 
 
 Late the following afternoon, while I was sit- 
 ting at the window in my aunt's home, a thrill 
 suddenly shot through me. I saw Edward com- 
 ing up the steps. I didn't know whether or not 
 he had seen me, and when he rang the bell I 
 jumped up to run away, with the intention not 
 to be " at home," but my resolution gave way and 
 I went to the door to admit him. Of course I was 
 surprised to see him; I asked him if it were my 
 aunt he had come to call on, and he laughed care- 
 lessly as he walked into the parlor. I told him 
 that I thought I had ordered him not to come, 
 and he laughed and said that he must have mis- 
 taken it for a command to make his appearance 
 at here he looked at his watch and added : " At 
 this time." 
 
 What a picture he was, dressed in graceful 
 negligence, with an impudent kink of hair on his 
 forehead. His dark eyes glowed upon me, and 
 
 159
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 a tenderness vibrated in his voice. At one mo- 
 ment he was almost rudely at ease, and at the 
 moment following it would seem that he was 
 almost frightened, his face growing pale. Look- 
 ing toward the piano he asked me if I played; 
 and what was more natural than for me to reply 
 that I had given up my music. But this was 
 true. I had. How hard I had tried to touch the 
 keys with the emotion I had felt ; but I had failed, 
 as all must fail who have industry rather than 
 talent. He said that surely I could sing, but I 
 shook my head. " You have come to a poor place 
 for entertainment," I said. " There are several 
 here who sing and play when the others want 
 to read, but they are out at present." 
 
 His eyes were grateful for the latter part of 
 this intelligence. " Were you surprised to see 
 me ? " he asked, smiling with charming defiance ; 
 and I rebuked him with a look, or at least 
 thought I did, but he smiled again as before, and 
 his impudence was pleasing because it appeared 
 to be natural. " I didn't know what to do with 
 myself this afternoon," he said. " I tried to give 
 myself up to study, but my mind wandered off 
 
 160
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 in this direction. Can I help it if my mind wan- 
 ders?" 
 
 " No, but you can keep from following it when 
 it does wander," I replied. 
 
 " Yes, I could have myself locked up," he re- 
 joined, and his face was pale and his eyes glowed. 
 " But a man may be in prison and yet not locked 
 up," he added, musing. " Wasn't it one of the 
 old poets who said that iron bars did not a prison 
 make ? Is your aunt at home ? " 
 
 I told him that I thought she was somewhere 
 about the house. " Do you wish to see her ? I'll 
 call her." 
 
 " Oh, no, I'm not acquainted with her." 
 
 For a time we sat in silence, he looking at me, 
 pale and flushed by turns. Once in his eyes I saw 
 an expression, a dark shadow edged with light, 
 and my heart beat fast. I looked away from him, 
 at the window curtain, slowly moving with a 
 breeze. He spoke of the softness of the air, and 
 asked me if I should not like to walk, but I de- 
 clined, scarcely hearing my own voice when I 
 said no. Something drew me toward him, some- 
 thing that strove constantly to break through the 
 natural reserve of our short acquaintance. To 
 
 161
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 myself I had not acknowledged that I loved him ; 
 but when I had thought that he might perhaps 
 love me, the feeling that followed was warm and 
 sweet. Then arose the thought of money, my 
 teaching, the very mother's milk of all my train- 
 ing ; and to myself I said that his love could mat- 
 ter but little, since I could not consent to be his 
 wife. I thought of Olive, of her slavery, of her 
 bursts into criminal freedom. But I thought also 
 of poverty, of never-ending toil, of the misery 
 that might follow from seeing innocent and help- 
 less ones suffer on account of my selfish love. 
 Yes, it was natural to love and to be loved, but 
 nature herself was an animal. 
 
 He asked me if I would go to church with him, 
 and I told him that I would, with my aunt's con- 
 sent. This I felt that she would give, as he was 
 dressed with the appearance of a possible posses- 
 sion of money. Soon she came into the room. I 
 presented Edward, and saw at once that he found 
 at least a temporary favor in her eye. Ah, he 
 was shrewd. He complimented her in a way that 
 sounded more of truth than of flattery; and 
 shortly afterward she expressed the wish that he 
 might stay to supper. Then he boldly asked per- 
 
 162
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 mission to accompany me to church. She gave 
 it readily, as I knew she would. I was afraid 
 that he might spoil it all by dropping some hint 
 of his poverty, of his short-haired sister and his 
 long-haired brother in Kansas; but he talked 
 about stocks and bonds with such ease that my 
 aunt was quite delighted. As yet she did not 
 know that he worked for Nevum. Without wait- 
 ing to be asked where he had met me, he had 
 volunteered the information that his friend 
 Nevum had introduced us, which was not true, 
 but I did not correct him. 
 
 At the supper table he was bright and engag- 
 ing; he told a story that put every one in good 
 humor, complimented an old woman who whis- 
 pered to me that he was as nice as he could be, 
 and finally won my aunt completely by declaring 
 that not in years had he so much enjoyed a meal. 
 
 There were several churches in the immediate 
 neighborhood, but he chose one further away; 
 and we walked, the air was so soft and the sky 
 so purple with the lingering light of the sun. The 
 minister was a young man, full of the fire of 
 " declamation." He denounced the evil of the 
 day, the prevalence of divorces. He said with 
 
 163
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 deep impressiveness, that there might be some 
 who would take him to task for what he was 
 about to utter, but that he was going to give 
 what, in his opinion, was the cause of so many 
 divorces. Here every one appeared to lean for- 
 ward to catch the message of wisdom. " Un- 
 considered marriage," said he. " Permit me to 
 be a little plainer romantic marriage. In what 
 appears to be a most beautiful romance there may 
 be no suitability, no temperamental affinity, no 
 thought in common. A girl should not trust her 
 inexperienced senses. Marriage was instituted 
 that woman might be taken care of, and unless 
 her husband is able to do this, a vital fault is 
 encountered at the very threshold of married 
 life." Here he paused and waved his hand toward 
 the lake. " Over across that bright and limpid 
 water lies the Gretna Green of many a fond 
 hope. Across the wave glides the boat freighted 
 with romance, with glowing eyes, with warm 
 lips. But what is that shadow that falls almost 
 amid the sunbeams at the stern of the hope- 
 laden craft? It is the shadow of the divorce 
 court. Therefore, young women, ye of no experi- 
 ence of life, I say to you, trust not your romantic 
 
 164
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 desires. Impassioned marriage is a madness. If 
 you cannot take reason to the altar with you, do 
 not go. A wise divine has recently said that, 
 while love may be an intoxication, marriage par- 
 takes of the nature of a trade, a business, depend- 
 ing for happiness upon prosperity. And I say, 
 that the union of two poverties can fall but little 
 short of a crime. The legitimate career of man 
 is the pursuit of happiness. This idea is as old 
 as man himself. But how constantly a lack of 
 judgment interferes with it. If you are going to 
 choose a partner in business you do not let foolish 
 whims and romances influence your action. Re- 
 gard marriage as a partnership, and you will see 
 the divorce court close its doors." 
 
 This was my own cradle song, sung now from 
 the pulpit. Surely it was true, as a newspaper 
 had said, that poetry was dying out of the world, 
 that it belonged only to the morning twilight of 
 civilization. That warm glow in the heart, a 
 glow so bright as to dazzle the eye, that some- 
 thing which we have called love, was to be 
 dreaded and shunned. To judgment only we 
 should appeal. And what was the greatest 
 achievement, the highest reward of judgment? 
 
 165
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 Money. I glanced at Edward and his cheeks 
 were red with indignation. I fancied that I could 
 hear his heart beating, like a distant drum. I 
 could feel his anger. It was warming itself by 
 my own. And yet I could not banish the thought, 
 the conviction that the preacher was telling the 
 truth. 
 
 As we passed out of the church Edward re- 
 marked : " I'd like to take that fellow by the 
 throat." 
 
 "For telling the truth?" I inquired. 
 
 " Is it possible that you believe him ? Isn't love 
 the very basis of the book he preaches from? 
 Isn't love declared to be God ? " 
 
 " Love in that sense must mean justice," I re- 
 plied, speaking against the promptings of my own 
 heart. A man and a woman passed us. " He hit 
 the nail on the head," remarked the man. " Our 
 own married life illustrates it. We married with- 
 out any nonsense, and have always been con- 
 tented." 
 
 " And were never happy a moment in their 
 lives," Edward declared, as they passed on. I 
 replied that they could be happy and still not de- 
 lirious. For a long time we walked in silence. 
 
 166
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 The moon was full, the night romantic; the 
 ripened year was sweet with the scent of the mel- 
 lowed leaf. But the man had preached against 
 it all God's beauty wasted. I heard Edward 
 speaking, a low, musical hum; and out of his 
 chant there came the words : " Would you marry 
 for money? " 
 
 " I didn't I ran away, and that's why I'm 
 here, working for a living." 
 
 " And are you glad that you ran away? " 
 
 " I am not sorry that I didn't marry that 
 man, old and not refined." 
 
 " But if he hadn't been old you might have 
 married him." 
 
 " If he had been young I might have loved 
 him." 
 
 " Yes, young and with money, you might have 
 loved him. By the eternal heavens, poverty is a 
 crime, isn't it? When our forefathers came to 
 cut down the forest, love gripped the handle of 
 the axe, but the forest is gone and love seems to 
 have fallen with the trees." 
 
 " Yes," said I, " and those who worked while 
 they loved, remembering the hardships and the 
 trials, now tell us that we must have money. As 
 
 167
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 for myself, I am free to say that I hate poverty. 
 I love refinements, songs instead of groans, music 
 rather than distress. I don't like to shut myself 
 up when the day is beautiful, to work in order 
 that I may have some dark place to sleep in, some 
 board where I may satisfy my hunger. If God 
 gave a part of the world to me, why didn't he 
 give it freely ? Why did he put a blight upon it ? 
 And why, in order to mock me, did he give to me 
 an appreciation of better things ? " 
 
 We walked in silence until we reached home. 
 I asked him to come in, saying that it was not 
 late, but he said that he wasn't feeling very well 
 and would go home. He held forth his hand. I 
 gave him mine and he held it for a moment, 
 pressing it; and his hand was warm and thrill- 
 ing. But, as he seemed to be drawing me toward 
 him, I took my hand away and bade him good 
 night. 
 
 My aunt was in the parlor, alone. I entered 
 with a laugh, but in my heart there was no mirth. 
 She began at once to talk about Edward. She 
 said he was charming. " Yes," I said, " he is 
 very kind at the office." 
 
 " At the office ? Does he work there ? " 
 
 168
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " A partner in the concern? " 
 
 " No, he works for Nevum during the day, 
 and studies law at night." 
 
 Her countenance fell. " A fine prospect he 
 has," she said. " In the course of five or six years 
 he'll have a sign, five by eight inches, in a win- 
 dow, twentieth story from the ground. And 
 there he'll starve, until he goes out to sell sub- 
 scription books to the farmers. Oh, I know all 
 about it. And the first thing I know you'll marry 
 him, even before he has money enough to get his 
 tin sign. Then I suppose you'll go about from 
 house to house with pins and needles for sale and 
 take orders for cheap coffee. I know all about 
 it. And all this time your mother thinks that I'm 
 taking excellent care of you. But instead of that 
 I'm about to marry you to a pauper that knows 
 how to compliment old women. Oh, I know." 
 
 " But, my dear aunt," I protested, " I haven't 
 thought of marrying him." 
 
 " Oh, you haven't. You are in love with him 
 this very minute and he is in love with you. 
 Anybody can see that." 
 
 " Well," said I, " if we are both in love " 
 
 169
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 She cleared her throat and gave me a look that 
 almost turned my blood cold. " Elinor," she said, 
 " I take as much interest in you as if you were 
 my own daughter. If you marry that man I can 
 see nothing but misery for you. Why, you might 
 better go out into the country and marry a farm 
 hand. In that event you would both be sure of 
 work. But that young fellow hasn't yet got up 
 to the point where he can work. So far as a 
 start is concerned, he hasn't been born. He's 
 handsome enough to look at, but never in God's 
 world will he make a lawyer of himself. Collect- 
 ing bad debts during the day and studying law 
 at night ! Merciful heavens. And I want to say 
 that when you feel that you can't live without 
 him, suicide would be just as rational and and 
 a good deal more lasting than marriage. I sup- 
 pose you think you could marry him and keep on 
 at work as you are now. But that would soon 
 bring him into contempt. It is impossible for a 
 woman to love a man if she has to help support 
 him unless he has lost his health." 
 
 "Well, then, I might wait until he loses his 
 health and then marry him," I replied, not in re- 
 sentment of what she had said, but in mischief. 
 
 170
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 She looked at me and laughed. " Now you give 
 me some little evidence of your good sense/' she 
 said. " Whenever a woman begins to joke you 
 may know that she is going to take the right view 
 of a thing. But really, my dear, you can see that 
 he is weak handsome and weak. He couldn't 
 enforce any respect aside from love and love 
 disobeys and goes wrong a hundred times where 
 respect does once." 
 
 I didn't believe that. I thought of Olive. No 
 respect that she might have had for Pague could 
 keep her from erring with " Cousin George." 
 Erring! I repeated the word over and over to 
 myself. What was erring? To stifle one's con- 
 science, one's love that was obedience. To yield 
 to nature, to love therein lay a crime. But we 
 live in the world and must abide by the opinion 
 of the world. There was no argument to support 
 the deceit that Olive had begun to practice. I 
 could have startled my aunt by telling her, by 
 showing her that money was not all, but in speak- 
 ing in condemnation of Olive it would seem, in 
 some strange way, that I was to condemn my- 
 self. 
 
 " I loiow what you're thinking about," said 
 
 171
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 my aunt. " You are thinking of the thousands 
 of presumably happy couples that have married 
 poor and worked together for wealth. There 
 have been such cases, it is true, but the world 
 has changed. Life is not the simple, confiding 
 thing it used to be. Remember your own home 
 and shun a poverty marriage. And in the mean- 
 time I think you'd better look for another situa- 
 tion." 
 
 This stung me. " My present situation is 
 rather a pleasant one," I replied. " I have be- 
 come accustomed to the work I have learned the 
 trade, so to speak, and if I give it up and go 
 to some other office, I shall have to learn all 
 over again." 
 
 " Perhaps so," she assented. " But you'll give 
 me your word that you'll not encourage the love 
 of that young fellow with any hope on his part 
 that you might possibly marry him. Will you do 
 this?" 
 
 " He has never asked me to marry him ; he has 
 never hinted as much. When he does I'll give 
 him all necessary discouragement." 
 
 She thanked me, and, what was pleasanter, she 
 left me to myself. It was a long time before 
 
 172
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 I slept that night. The preacher's words droned 
 in my ears, and then would come the resounding 
 notes in Olive's voice the notes of rebellion and 
 of love. 
 
 173
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A MAN TO BE REMEMBERED. 
 
 u morning as I passed through the outer 
 office into my work room Edward looked up from 
 his desk and nodded. He had said, the night be- 
 fore, that he did not feel well. Now he looked 
 as if his bed had brought him no refreshment. 
 His face was sallow. But a sort of melancholy 
 glory burned in his eyes. I could think of no other 
 expression than glory. They seemed to be lighted 
 by an altar fire of the soul, those dark suns and 
 inwardly I trembled as he turned them upon me, 
 for I felt that into them I had cast those saddened 
 lights, those shadows more expressive than 
 lights. Nevum had not yet arrived, and I sat 
 down, wondering if Edward would come into the 
 room, but he did not. But soon there came some 
 one, a man whom I have cause never to forget 
 tall, faultlessly dressed, and more impressive than 
 had he been simply handsome. He wore a beard 
 and parted it in the middle light, with the mer- 
 
 174
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 est touch of gray. He bowed, with his hat in 
 his hand, and I saw that his abundant hair, turn- 
 ing gray, was also parted in the middle. He 
 asked if Mr. Nevum were in. I told him no, but 
 that he would surely come within a few moments. 
 His look, if not the cool authority of his slight 
 smile, enjoined consideration, and I brought for- 
 ward a chair and requested him to sit down. He 
 thanked me with a graceful nod, in two sections, 
 a slight poise between them. Upon the table he 
 carefully placed his silk hat, and, slowly taking 
 off his tan-colored gloves, dropped them into it. 
 There was nothing for me to do, and so I simply 
 waited. He looked straight at me. His eyes 
 were large and gray and cool. His brow was 
 high and broad, with two paralleled wrinkles 
 running across it, a railroad track whereon 
 thought was freighted, I mused. On his finger 
 a diamond ring flashed, catching a ray of sun- 
 light that fell through the window. Raising his 
 hand to stroke his beard he threw the light into 
 my eyes. In his presence I felt untidy, and I put 
 up my hand to adjust my hair. He smiled, like 
 the gleam of frost; and, in keeping with the 
 smile, he remarked that the weather was slightly 
 
 175
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 cooler. To myself I mused that he would always 
 keep it cool, and to him replied that I thought it 
 was. " Ah, you haven't been here very long, have 
 you?" said he, dazzling me again with his dia- 
 mond. 
 
 " No, not very long." 
 
 " And I warrant you would rather be out where 
 the wild grapes are ripening." 
 
 What did he know about wild grapes? He 
 couldn't have known that many a time I had 
 climbed to dangerous heights to stain my lips 
 with them. 
 
 " Why do you think that ? Don't I look indus- 
 trious ? " 
 
 He laughed and it was like the ripple of cool 
 water. " Oh, yes ; but somehow it doesn't seem 
 right that you should be shut up here. Nevum 
 told me about you said that you had come from 
 the country the wild grape country and not the 
 prairies. Your name is Miss Dawson. I am 
 Bayless, the architect." 
 
 I remembered having heard Nevum say that 
 I ought to meet Bayless, the architect. And I 
 now said that I was pleased to meet him. I was. 
 He had given to me a new sensation, and I re- 
 
 176
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 garded him in the light of a discovery while 
 journeying toward the north pole. With one 
 look he seemed to be able to teach self-posses- 
 sion. I wondered how many emotions it would 
 take to thaw him. A man, addressing himself 
 to one whom he believes to be modest, thinks that 
 he must be witty, and, failing in this, is trivial. 
 This man said something which doubtless he 
 hoped to be witty, and. I laughed, with a readi- 
 ness that sounded the proof of spontaneity. This 
 seemed to please him. Then he sat in a study as 
 if trying to think of something to say to me. He 
 asked me if I liked the Fair. I felt that he ex- 
 pected me to say that it was grand, and this was 
 the reason that I didn't say it. I said that it was 
 the holiday of art and industry, and that there- 
 fore I must give to it my approval. He inquired 
 which I represented, the art or the industry, and 
 I regretted that I had offered him this oppor- 
 tunity, for I was not ready with an answer, ex- 
 cept one that any simpleton could have made. 
 After a moment, however, I said that, as I had 
 not the art to be idle, I must represent the indus- 
 try. Again the cool water rippled. If he thawed 
 at all, it was always beneath the ice. I was pleased 
 
 177
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 that he did not attempt to force acquaintance by 
 any burst of frankness, as so many men do a 
 pretended roughness to prove that they are with- 
 out guile. I saw that he was cultivated almost 
 to that delightful dulness which society demands. 
 Good breeding is a sort of socialism; it lops off 
 the rebellious twigs of individuality. This man 
 was not an individual; he was a type from an 
 almost exclusive foundry. He was well read 
 he said nothing to prove it, but I could see that 
 he was. I knew that he loved art, of the sort al- 
 most degenerate in its ultra refinement. 
 
 " Do you expect to make your home here? " he 
 inquired. This was something more serious than 
 I had expected, but I mused that I must not an- 
 swer with anything like truth or solemnity, so I 
 said : " I may remain here indefinitely, but I am 
 afraid I couldn't make a home here." 
 
 He smiled. " I am a builder of houses, but it 
 is such as you that make homes." 
 
 This was pure gallantry, and I bowed my ac- 
 knowledgments. Thus matters stood when 
 Nevum entered. I did not wish for him. I won- 
 dered why these two should be friends. " Ah,"
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 cried the bad debt collector, " where have you 
 been keeping yourself? " 
 
 " Beyond the reach of your threats to prose- 
 cute," Bayless replied, shaking hands with him. 
 And then, as if afraid that I might think he was 
 within range of Nevum's constant guns, he 
 added : " If I owed you or any one who em- 
 ployed you, Nevum, I would pay at once or jump 
 into the lake. Ha, I thought that I wanted to see 
 you, on some sort of business, but I haven't been 
 impatient." He glanced toward me, and Nevum 
 replied : 
 
 " I should think not. It is hardly necessary 
 now to introduce you, is it ? " 
 
 " Introduce us ? Oh, no, we are old friends." 
 
 They withdrew into another room and talked 
 for some time. When they returned, the archi- 
 tect bowed to me and took his leave. 
 
 Nevum said that we had a busy day before us, 
 and began at once to dictate his distressful let- 
 ters. Sometimes he stood near me, and then he 
 would walk up and down the room as if dis- 
 turbed. After a long time he made his usual 
 sign, to show me that I was " dismissed." I 
 turned to the machine and was writing, when he 
 
 179
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 remarked : " You remember I spoke about Bay- 
 less?" 
 
 " Yes, I remember," I answered, pausing in 
 my work. 
 
 " What do you think of him? " 
 
 " I don't know. But he seems to be a gentle- 
 man." 
 
 " Yes, a woman would naturally think so. The 
 fact is," he said, after a brief silence, " I don't 
 know whether I wanted him to meet you or not." 
 
 " Why not? " I inquired in surprise, or rather 
 what I intended for him to understand as sur- 
 prise. " You said that I ought to meet him." 
 
 " Yes, I said so at that time. But since then 
 you and I have become better acquainted ; we have 
 had several talks, and one was rather serious. 
 When I said you ought to meet him I had no 
 notion that I should ask you to marry me." 
 
 "Oh, you didn't," I laughed. "But you 
 haven't asked me right out." 
 
 " Haven't I ? Well, I intend to." 
 
 " By correspondence ? And shall I take the 
 letter now ? " 
 
 :< Well, not right yet." And then, after a short 
 silence : " The last time we talked on the sub- 
 
 180
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 ject I believe you acknowledged that you couldn't 
 learn to love me." 
 
 " Yes, I remember. But I couldn't love any 
 one that I had to learn to love. I think I told you 
 something like that. A love that it might take 
 ten years to learn could be unlearned in a minute, 
 I should think." 
 
 " The talk of old maids and not of young girls," 
 he replied. " You must have got it from some 
 school ma'am." 
 
 " No, I didn't get it from any one," I replied, 
 good-humoredly. " I always thought it a piece 
 of what you might term universal wisdom." 
 
 " Wisdom," he echoed. " Has any one called 
 it wisdom ? " 
 
 " Yes, I have, and if it is wisdom to me, it is 
 just as potent as if it were wisdom to all the 
 world." 
 
 He went out of the room and I resumed my 
 work, but shortly he returned and broke in upon 
 me with the remark that young women, not only 
 a few, but all of them, imagined themselves phil- 
 osophers. " It is the result of club life," he added. 
 I replied that I had never been inside of a club. 
 " And besides," I continued, " it seems that clubs 
 
 181
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 advocate anything but old fashioned marriage." 
 
 " Old fashioned marriage ! What sort of mar- 
 riage is that ? " 
 
 " Marriage for love," I replied. 
 
 " For nonsense for divorce," he emphasized. 
 " No matter how deserving he might be, do you 
 suppose I'd want my daughter to marry a poor 
 man ? I should think not," he went on. " I know 
 too much about woman for that. She has at last 
 come to realize that a love marriage, unless 
 there's money, means slavery for her. And it's 
 true. There's no way of getting around it. She 
 is always the one to feel that she can't afford this 
 or that. No matter what the hardship may be, 
 she is to bear the hardest part." 
 
 " Didn't woman always know that ? " I asked 
 him, with a smile. 
 
 " Not so thoroughly as she does now. I may 
 not be rich " 
 
 " Then whose cause are you pleading?" I 
 broke in ; and he winced. 
 
 " Well, woman's cause. Your cause, to be 
 more personal. As I say, I may not be rich, but 
 I have enough to make you happy and to keep 
 you from want." 
 
 182
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " How much do you suppose it would take to 
 make me happy and to keep me from want? If 
 you are not very rich, then I have thrown over a 
 higher bidder to consider you. I could have mar- 
 ried a man that was anxious to settle a hundred 
 thousand dollars on me." 
 
 He whistled. "What sort of a man?" 
 
 " And old man," I answered. 
 
 " Oh, an old man." 
 
 This seemed to relieve his tension. He did not 
 regard himself as being old. When an old man 
 does so regard himself, he is charming. Until he 
 arrives at this stage of common sense, he is an 
 idiot, an ape. Nevum was still an ape. 
 
 " Marriage is a business," he said. 
 
 " An active business with some," I replied. " A 
 business. Yes, that was what a South Side 
 preacher said last night. He deplored love." 
 
 " He knows that young love is an error," said 
 Nevum. 
 
 " Young love for an old lover? " I asked, and 
 he thrust his hands into his pockets and smiled. 
 " Well, no. An element of judgment enters in 
 with age." 
 
 183
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " By the way," I said, " Aunt has advised me 
 to look for another situation." 
 
 " What, she has ? Have you complained to 
 her ? Aren't you kindly treated here ? Does she 
 think your pay insufficient? " 
 
 " None of these," I answered. " She is very 
 shrewd. With her eyes closed she can see how 
 things are drifting." 
 
 " Have you told her that I am in love with 
 you?" 
 
 " Why should I, when you haven't told me ? " 
 
 " Minx ! Didn't I ask you to be my wife ? " 
 
 ' Yes, but, like the preacher, you deplored 
 love." 
 
 " Oh, no, not on my part. I deplore the acts, 
 the rashness of young girls that fancy themselves 
 in love. But we won't pursue the subject any 
 further at present. There's plenty of time I 
 hope. In the meantime, however, you must not 
 think of looking for another place." 
 
 He turned to his affairs and I resumed my 
 work. Occasionally I glanced at him; and once 
 when he was assuring an old man that not an- 
 other day could be allowed him, I thought that 
 I had never seen a countenance more wanting in 
 sympathy. 
 
 184
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 NOT A PLACE FOR SUCH QUESTIONS. 
 
 At noon-time I left Nevum arguing with a 
 young girl, whose indignant soul strove in the 
 eloquence of despair to save her piano. Edward 
 had gone and there was no one in the outer of- 
 fice. At first I thought that, in view of the " dis- 
 cussion " which the law student and I had en- 
 tered into the night before, I would not go to the 
 restaurant where he and I were accustomed to 
 meet. But, looking in at several places and not 
 finding them to my taste, I went down into the old 
 resort. Edward was at the table where I was 
 in the habit of sitting, and I was about to pass 
 on to another table, when he laughed with good 
 humor. I laughed, too, and thus the ice, if it had 
 formed, was broken. So I sat down beside him. 
 
 ' You look as fresh as if you had never worked 
 a moment in your life," he said. " Do you feel 
 that fresh?" 
 
 ' Yes. I have to hold my health down to keep 
 
 185
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 it from leaping beyond all restraint. My mother 
 taught me to take physical care of myself." 
 
 " Just physical care? Was that all? " 
 
 " Well, with her, physical care, the preserva- 
 tion of looks, meant everything." 
 
 " She ought to come here and start a sort of 
 Delsarte school. By the way, how is your charm- 
 ing aunt?" 
 
 " She is about as you left her eyes and ears 
 open." 
 
 "Did she ask you very many questions con- 
 cerning me ? " 
 
 " She spoke about you." 
 
 " And you had to tell her, eh? " 
 
 "Had to tell her what?" 
 
 " That I worked for old Nevum during the day 
 and studied the devil's text books at night." 
 
 " I didn't tell her anything about the text books. 
 I didn't know you called them by that name. Yes, 
 I told her you worked for Nevum and studied law 
 at night." 
 
 " And what did she say to that? " 
 
 " Oh, not very much of anything. But she 
 doesn't think that a law student without money 
 has very much of a chance." 
 
 1 86
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " She's a wise witch," he said. 
 
 We gave our orders to the waiter, who with- 
 drew, smiling. There is nothing wiser than ig- 
 norance that has had experience. 
 
 Aunt has advised me to get another place/' 
 said I. 
 
 " Has she? I wish you would? " 
 
 " Why do you wish that? " 
 
 " Oh, it's not pleasant to reflect that you are 
 shut up there with that gabulous old fraud. Of 
 course he hasn't any money to speak of, but some- 
 times talk rings like dollars and might finally 
 convince. I suppose he's about got to the stage 
 now where he urges that you can learn to love 
 him, and that if you can't it won't make any par- 
 ticular difference." 
 
 " If he has failed so often, why should you fear 
 that he might conquer me ? " 
 
 For a few moments he seemed confused. " The 
 fact that I do fear is where the trouble comes in," 
 said he. " Of course I don't know just how 
 strong he is with his case don't know how weak 
 the defense is. I realize that I haven't the right 
 to say a word. You and I have had our talk. 
 But it does seem a shame that a girl of your in- 
 
 is/
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 telligence of your appearance, to put it stronger 
 
 " You can't have very much respect for my in- 
 telligence if you think that with me the word ap- 
 pearance does make it stronger." 
 
 He bowed his head out of respect to this re- 
 buke. He acknowledged that it was deserved. 
 The waiter came and we were silent. After a 
 time Edward looked about him, to see whether 
 any one were near, and then remarked : " Let 
 me modify my offense and say that it is a shame 
 for a girl of your character and intelligence 
 genius, I might almost say to be subjected to 
 the matrimonial importunities of that old failure. 
 Why do you want to do typewriting? Why don't 
 you devote yourself to some other employment ? " 
 
 " Typewriting and stenography offered the 
 surest means of support. Any sort of 'profession' 
 would have been an experiment." 
 
 " But when an experiment is a success, it is 
 the greatest success," said he, and I nodded in 
 compliance with his view. " But," said I, " the 
 outcome of an experiment, no matter how much 
 it may promise, is uncertain. And I was not in a 
 position to undertake an uncertainty," 
 
 188
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " I wish I could do something for you," he 
 said. 
 
 " Thank you," I replied, " and I wish I could 
 do something for you." 
 
 " You could," he spoke up quickly. " You 
 could encourage me stimulate me to succeed." 
 
 " Tell me how." 
 
 " You know how ; every time I look at you I 
 tell you. Don't pretend not to understand. Tell 
 me, do you care for me at all ? " 
 
 " Hush, this is no place to ask such a question." 
 
 " But do you? You can say yes or no, can't 
 you?" 
 
 " I could say both, I suppose." 
 
 He looked at me with his soul in his eyes. I 
 felt myself drawn toward him felt my lips 
 burning. In the noises, the clatter of the dishes, 
 the orders shouted by the waiters behind the 
 swinging doors, there was a strange music. The 
 sounds that came from the street were music. 
 His eyes were a melody, heard only by my heart. 
 But I conquered myself, so far as he could see, 
 though my heart beat fast, tripped over itself, 
 missed a beat; and I almost smothered. I drank 
 some water. " You don't care," he said. 
 
 189
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " I do," I whispered so faintly that I scarcely 
 heard my own words. His eyes blazed. But that 
 was not enough. 
 
 " Is it that you just do care? " he asked. 
 
 " Our catechism is ended," said I. 
 
 " When you have lighted the lamp of hope, is 
 it so difficult to turn it up higher? " 
 
 " When the blaze might attract attention ? 
 Yes." 
 
 I arose to go. He begged me to wait a mo- 
 ment, but I hastened to the cashier's desk and 
 then out into the air, my face burning. He did 
 not follow me. 
 
 At the office Nevum was walking up and down 
 the room. He inquired why I had left the place 
 so suddenly. He had intended to ask me to lunch 
 with him. " You were busy," I answered. " Did 
 the poor girl gain her suit? Did you agree to 
 let her keep the piano ? " He heard my words, 
 but his eyes averted my inquiring look. To mix 
 business and sentiment is like pouring vinegar 
 into milk. " When one owes a debt, a piano is a 
 reproachful luxury," he said. 
 
 " But if the law permitted, it would be the same 
 with a sewing machine," said I, and he strove to 
 
 190
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 rebuke me with his eyes. " You don't understand 
 me/' he said. ' You can never know how many 
 hours I have given to the poor and unfortunate, 
 how I have thundered before juries for them 
 without recompense other than the applause of 
 conscience." 
 
 I laughed inwardly to think that I was thus 
 arguing with my employer, and I wondered how 
 much of it he would put up with from Edward 
 or any other worker beneath his roof. What a 
 privilege man grants to a glowing cheek. What a 
 power lies in the smile of sex. How impotent is 
 mere virtue ! 
 
 He asked me if I cared to go that night to the 
 theater. To tell a lie did not require a moment's 
 hesitation. I replied that I had an engagement. 
 " With a man? " he inquired. This necessitated 
 a second's reflection. 
 
 " With visitors that are going to call at the 
 house." 
 
 He looked as if he did not believe me. Is it 
 true that a man expects a woman first to tell him 
 a lie and then possibly to modify it into half a 
 truth? He gave me the opportunity to modify; 
 but I insisted that I expected visitors. 
 
 IQI
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " Are you sure it is to-night ? " he asked, giv- 
 ing me more of opportunity. 
 
 " I am certain." 
 
 " Well, then, to-morrow night. Have you an 
 engagement then ? " 
 
 " I think not. But wait until to-morrow and 
 I will answer you definitely." 
 
 " Is it that you don't care to go with me? " 
 
 " Oh, no." 
 
 Some one came in and freed me. I was glad 
 when six o'clock emancipated me from further 
 confinement, and I hastened out, grateful for the 
 fresh air blowing from the lake. 
 
 192
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE OLD MAN KEPT AN EYE ON HER. 
 
 I expected no visitors, of course, but it so 
 chanced that on this night there came Olive and 
 her husband. I saw that my aunt was again 
 charmed with Pague, and when she sighed, 
 shortly after he came, I knew that it was in regret 
 over my having lost him. Clothes that were in- 
 clined to fit him were not therefore becoming, 
 but on this occasion he was tailored into the 
 semblance of a man of importance. He wore 
 black, and a new watch chain gleamed on his lean 
 vest. Soon after arriving Olive expressed a de- 
 sire to run up to my room with me. And she 
 ran, as fast as she could, and standing in the 
 middle of the floor, panting, she cried out: 
 " Freedom." She sat on the edge of the bed. 
 " Oh, I have been dying all day," she moaned. 
 " He hasn't granted to me the boon of getting be- 
 yond his sight one single moment. It was of no 
 use to tell him he ought to go out and attend to his 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 business. He said he had none. No, he just 
 stuck there all day and wouldn't budge until I 
 did, and then he followed me." 
 
 " But he settled the hundred thousand on you/' 
 said I. 
 
 " Yes, in some sort of a peculiar manner. I 
 am to have no say so in it until he dies, and then 
 it's to be given to me in dribs I believe. I've 
 lost interest in it. But mother looks toward it 
 as if it were the throne of grace. Yes, she does. 
 I never saw anything like it. You remember the 
 day when I first told you about Charley the day 
 my mother commended your mother's good sense 
 for insisting that you should marry Mr. Pague? 
 I said that I just wouldn't. How things do come 
 about. But I didn't know how strong mother 
 was how weak I was. Sometimes I wish I had 
 died. No, I don't, either. But now now I'm 
 not prepared to die. What am I talking about? 
 Who is prepared to die except the one that is dy- 
 ing ? If my mother only knew. But she couldn't 
 believe it. She'd say that no scandal could enter 
 her house. Scandal! But there is none. What 
 is more of a scandal, though, than to live with a 
 man you can not love? One you can hardly re- 
 
 194
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 spect? I have suffered. But I have lived 
 lived," she cried, springing from the bed and tak- 
 ing my hands. " Lived think of it. And I 
 prayed tried to pray out the memory of it, but I 
 couldn't. God may not have sanctioned it, but He 
 wouldn't permit it to be blotted out. The sancti- 
 fied by law became the vile. I can't explain I 
 mustn't. Mistress ! God, what a word. But I'm 
 not." 
 
 She threw herself upon the bed and buried her 
 face in the pillow. I did not know how to soothe 
 her. My aunt called me. " Mr. Pague wants to 
 know if you are coming down soon," she said. 
 
 " Yes, very soon," I answered. 
 
 " Don't you see how he hounds me ? " said 
 Olive, getting up. She bathed her face. Why 
 did I look at her with such interest? She was 
 the mystery of sin. 
 
 " You girls have been talking mischief, I war- 
 rant," said Pague, as we entered the parlor. 
 
 " Yes," replied Olive. " We've been talking 
 about clothes." 
 
 "Is that all?" 
 
 "All," she said. "Isn't that everything?" 
 My aunt asked her how much longer she expected 
 
 195
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 to remain in Chicago and she looked at her hus- 
 band. " Not much longer," he replied. " We 
 are going to move into a very I might say, com- 
 modious house in Wheeling. And by the way, 
 Olive, we must select the furniture at once." 
 
 My aunt's countenance lighted with admira- 
 tion, but Olive was impassive. After a few mo- 
 ments, however, she looked up with interest. 
 " Gypsy and I alone are to select the fittings for 
 at least one room," she said, appealing to Pague. 
 "May we?" 
 
 ' Yes, I suppose so," he said, and the bright 
 hue of happiness spread over her face. I knew 
 that she reached forth her arm to embrace an- 
 other lawless joy. But I could not find it in my 
 own wayward heart to condemn her. I was vir- 
 tuous enough to try, but I failed. In her infidelity 
 there was a fascination. I say it to my shame, 
 but considering her life and mine, there was; 
 and while it was my weakness to find it so, it was 
 my fault not to strive harder to correct it, to 
 purify myself. Virtue itself cannot withhold ap- 
 plause from the slave that bursts his bonds to 
 rush toward freedom. Freedom is the heritage 
 of man. But Olive permitted herself to be sold 
 
 196
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 by her mother. There was a promise of a reward 
 that was not and could not be delivered. This 
 reward was happiness. She had been deceived 
 and she in her turn deceived, not in revenge but 
 to meet the demands of her own love. This is not 
 an argument to me now, but then, young, having 
 almost been sold, it was unanswerable. 
 
 Pague was restless. Evidently it was his de- 
 sire to cut short his visit. My aunt urged him 
 to stay, but he pleaded weariness. Ah, Olive de- 
 manded life and he gave her decrepitude. When 
 they were gone my aunt asked me if I reflected 
 upon what T had lost. 
 
 " You mean escaped, don't you ? " I replied. 
 
 " No, I meant what I said. Why, he is really 
 a man of affairs." Recently she had picked this 
 word " affairs " out of a newspaper, and she 
 made it serve her. " Of affairs," she repeated 
 with the ardor of discovery. " If he were not 
 quite so old he might possibly go to the United 
 States Senate." 
 
 " But he is quite so old," I replied. " And be- 
 sides, I don't think he has money enough to take 
 him there." 
 
 " Perhaps not," she admitted, but a moment 
 
 197
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 later she added : " But I warrant you he has as 
 much money as Senator Cullum, and he seems to 
 me to be just as smart looks something like him, 
 too." 
 
 As to his soul she said nothing, knew nothing, 
 could see nothing. Those who worship the ob- 
 vious have but one god money. 
 
 " Opportunities don't come many times during 
 one life," said my aunt, musing in a spirit of mel- 
 ancholy almost grotesue. " To the average man 
 three times,, and to the woman twice. That is 
 what I've heard old people say. You've had one. 
 Look out for the other." 
 
 " But, aunt," said I, " suppose that every girl 
 should marry an old man. What would become 
 of the human race ? " 
 
 " Bah ! The human race. What need you to 
 care for that? A fine education you've had, to 
 sit up here and talk about what is to become of 
 the human race. Your own race is the only one 
 you need to care for. You are the only one that 
 is to run it. Do you know a picture that ought 
 to be hung in every girl's room? A picture of 
 a poor house, with paupers standing about in their 
 misery and humiliation. I might have married 
 
 198
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 a wealthy man. But no, I had romantic notions 
 of love and all that sort of foolishness. And what 
 does it all amount to now? What became of 
 that romance? And here I am, having to 
 struggle day and night for a bare living. Oh, 
 it's nothing to smile over. Wait till you find 
 yourself with half a dozen children, in the midst 
 of a freezing winter, with coal bills to contend 
 with. Then you'll smile on the other side of 
 your mouth, I tell you." 
 
 " But you have no half-dozen children," I re- 
 plied. 
 
 " And it's the only good luck I possess, the fact 
 that I haven't. If I had, the Lord only knows 
 what would become of us. Now that old man 
 may not go to the senate, but he will go to the 
 grave, and when he does, look at the life opened 
 to that girl. Oh, I know it sounds cold-blooded 
 to speak of it, but if we don't speak of it we prac- 
 tice hypocrisy, and that is worse." 
 
 " Yes, that may be, but do you think that a 
 girl can be true to a man she doesn't love ? " 
 
 With both hands my aunt smoothed her hair 
 down upon her forehead. "How true to him? 
 What do you mean? What are you blushing 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 about? Do you mean true to her vows? Of 
 course she can, if she wants to." 
 
 " But suppose she doesn't want to? " 
 
 " Why, Gypsy, you brazen thing. Are you 
 such an animal that you couldn't be " 
 
 " Animals are true to instincts and not to 
 vows," I broke in upon her, and she smoothed 
 her hair and looked at me. 
 
 " Even so," she said. " Yes, a fine way you 
 have been educated. Oh, I know it's the rule 
 among women of today to despise virtue. They 
 want their own way, and where does their own 
 way lead them? Surely you have departed from 
 the teachings of your mother." 
 
 ' To the extent that I have made an approach 
 toward virtue," I replied; and with her mouth 
 closed my aunt made a sound more expressive of 
 pity and shame than could be set forth by word. 
 Seeing that I had almost offended her, I strove 
 to placate her, and soon I told her that Nevum 
 had asked me to go with him to the theatre. 
 
 'Well, what's to prevent your going?" she 
 replied. " I think it was very nice and consider- 
 ate of him. Probably he'll take you to dinner, 
 and you can go from down town without having 
 
 2OO
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 to come home. Women don't dress very much 
 for the theatre here, you know, unless it's on 
 some special occasion." 
 
 That night I lay a long time, thinking, wonder- 
 ing looking upward through the window at the 
 stars. 
 
 2OI
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 WITHOUT SAYING GOODNIGHT. 
 
 On my way to the office I said to myself that 
 I would not go to the theatre with Nevum. It 
 was not that I desired to stand counter to the ad- 
 vice and the wishes of my aunt ; it was not that in 
 any way I might hold out an invitation to any 
 sort of temptation. It was because I dreaded to 
 see a shadow fall from some dark cloud into Ed- 
 ward's eyes. And those eyes, they beamed upon 
 me the moment I opened the door of the office. 
 Nevum had not arrived. Edward came into the 
 room. " To find that after a night's work I had 
 become acquainted with a principle " I looked 
 inquiringly at him as he began this speech and he 
 hesitated. He had doubtless rehearsed it and it 
 had faded from his mind. 
 
 ' You'd better start all over again," said I, 
 opening my desk and proceeding to arrange the 
 papers. 
 
 " Yes, I will. I was going to say that hereto- 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 fore if I got at one single principle or problem 
 in a night I'd done well, but last night I must 
 have mastered a whole book. Do you know why? 
 That word of encouragement you gave me that 
 spark from you which ignited me." 
 
 " But this is not the place to speak of it," I 
 replied, looking toward the door. 
 
 " No," he said, with a drooping air, " and there 
 doesn't seem to be any place. But all places are 
 the same with love." 
 
 " But all love is not the same with places," I 
 laughed; and he drooped still more, and tried to 
 look cross at me. 
 
 " Come, now," he said, moving closer to me, 
 his eyes glowing. 
 
 " But you mustn't come now," I replied, shak- 
 ing my head. " You'll make me sorry I gave 
 you the encouraging word." 
 
 " Don't say that. You'll undo everything. 
 Shall I tell you about last night, how my mind 
 leaped upon everything and devoured it ? " 
 
 " No, not now. We haven't time. Mr. Nevum 
 will be here in a moment." 
 
 " Well, but what of it ? Are we to scurry like 
 
 203
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 rats when he comes in? He's not our master, is 
 he?" 
 
 " He's our pay master." 
 
 " Ah, there it is pay, everything pay. What 
 hope is there for a man what hope is there for 
 love, when everything stands upon the basis of 
 pay money? I read speeches and sermons 
 where virtue is upheld. I hear men say that the 
 dollar is not the aim of life; but give them the 
 opportunity and they prove their words false. 
 I'd better go back to Kansas where they still have 
 ideas aside from money." 
 
 He was sincere, no doubt, but he was theatric. 
 He was making a virtue of his poverty. He did 
 not move me other than with the spirit of levity. 
 I laughed and he reproached me. He said that 
 my heart was hard. Then he said that I had no 
 heart. Chicago had crushed it. I replied that 
 I had come to Chicago to keep my heart from 
 being crushed; and not even distress could look 
 upon this idea with gravity, and then he laughed. 
 
 " They told me when I came that this was the 
 most commercial of all towns," said I, " but I 
 find that every day they mingle love with busi- 
 ness. And such love, too outstripping senti- 
 
 204
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 ment, rushing like a telegram. I hear Mr. 
 Nevum." 
 
 Edward withdrew, and shortly afterward 
 Nevum came in, condemning the elevator for 
 having kept him waiting. He grabbed at every- 
 thing, brushed papers about, said that he was in 
 a rush, and began to pour out his letters of threats 
 and distress as fast as I could take them. One 
 was to the girl who had begged so hard for her 
 piano. He told her that he had consulted his 
 client, had urged that more time be given, but 
 had been told that it could not be allowed. He 
 was sorry. Therefore, unless an installment of 
 ten dollars were paid within twenty-four hours 
 a constable would call upon her with an execu- 
 tion. When he gave me the sign that I might 
 now go to work, the preliminaries of taking the 
 letters being regarded as mere play, I said to 
 him : " I beg your pardon, but have you seen 
 the client the one who is after the piano? " 
 
 "How's that?" he inquired. I repeated the 
 question. " Oh, have I seen him ? Well, .yes, I 
 suppose so. If I haven't seen him I guess I've 
 heard from him either that or shall pretty soon 
 if I don't hurry things up a bit." 
 
 205
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " I feel very sorry for that poor girl," said I. 
 " Life has gone hard with her and she is strug- 
 gling. I believe she will pay eventually. Couldn't 
 you give her a month longer ? " 
 
 " I don't see how I can. It wouldn't be busi- 
 ness, you know." 
 
 " I suppose not. It would be too generous to 
 be business." 
 
 I proceeded with my work. Several men called, 
 at different times; and when the last one was 
 gone, Nevum turned to me and said : 
 
 " Oh, about going to the theatre tonight. Have 
 you made up your mind? " 
 
 " Yes, I think I have. I have decided not to 
 go with you." 
 
 "May I ask why?" 
 
 " The theatre," said I, " is a place where the 
 human heart is supposedly reflected ; and, in going 
 there we ought to be accompanied with as much 
 heart as possible. You have shown me, by your 
 refusal to allow that girl more time, that you 
 have no heart, no sympathy, which is the atmos- 
 phere, the vapor of heart; and therefore I don't 
 care to go with you." 
 
 206
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 He looked at me as if he did not know whether 
 to scowl or to smile. 
 
 " That is surely a woman's way of putting it," 
 said he. " But don't you know that such whims 
 interfere with business ? " 
 
 " Yes," I replied, " and don't you know that 
 for a business man to go to the theatre with his 
 stenographer also interferes with business ? " 
 
 He laughed and turned about to receive a note 
 from a messenger boy. When the boy had gone 
 out, Nevum said : " A woman may struggle half 
 a life time to be a moralist and then during the 
 remaining half she may struggle to forget it." 
 
 " I haven't yet arrived at the forgetting age," 
 I answered, looking at him and observing lines 
 and shadows on his face that I had not seen be- 
 fore. 
 
 " Well," he spoke up, " what's your proposi- 
 tion?" 
 
 " It may not be worth considering it may be 
 foolish. But write another letter to the girl, tell 
 her that you will grant her a month, and I will 
 go with you tonight." 
 
 " Ah, very generous on your part thus to sac- 
 
 207
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 rifice yourself, I'm sure. Will you take dinner 
 with me down town?" 
 
 " Yes," I answered, without hesitation. 
 
 " At any restaurant I may select ? " 
 
 " At any respectable restaurant." 
 
 " Oh, I wouldn't take you to any other sort." 
 
 " There is no other sort before hand," I re- 
 plied. 
 
 " Hah, I can perceive the influence of that 
 shrewd aunt of yours." 
 
 * Yes, in my consent to go with you at all." 
 
 " What's that ? I don't quite understand. Does 
 she favor your going with me ? " 
 
 " She believes as you do, that money is every- 
 thing." 
 
 " As I do ? I don't believe that way. But your 
 aunt is a very considerate woman. Well, write 
 the letter to the girl and tell her I've finally in- 
 duced my client to grant her one month. And 
 after this piece of generosity we ought to feel in 
 good humor with ourselves." 
 
 I wished to avoid Edward his shadowy eyes ; 
 and at noon time I stole out and went to a new 
 restaurant. But I was far from being happy, 
 and every time the door swung I expected him to 
 
 208
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 come in with his wounded look. I could picture 
 him, sitting with his gaze on the door, waiting 
 for me. Then I fell to musing as to how deep 
 and enduring was his love for me, whether it 
 were real sentiment or mere passion. Of the lat- 
 ter quality I knew but little. But instinct is the 
 surest teacher and I was not wholly ignorant. It 
 has been said that the little girl with a doll is a 
 mother; and the speculations of inexperience are 
 sometimes pictures of truths hung in golden 
 frames. 
 
 Edward was not in the office when I returned. 
 Some one else was there, one of whom I had often 
 thought since seeing him Bayless, the architect. 
 He was sitting aS if waiting for the camera to 
 snap, with his cheek lying reflectively in his hand, 
 elbow on the table; and with a grace that it was 
 pleasing to behold, he arose and bowed pro- 
 foundly. He said that he had no business, neither 
 with Nevum nor with any one else in the office, 
 but that as he was passing, thought that he 
 would drop in for a moment. How faultless was 
 his dress; how exact his slow enunciation! It 
 seemed to me that he must have been the author 
 of all the phrases in my old copy book. Gently 
 
 209
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 taking hold of a consonant, he made it a vowel of 
 liquid music. All had been so well learned as to 
 be natural. I looked at his gray hair, so parted 
 and polished; and he seemed to speak in silvery 
 strands. He was a slowly moving picture of 
 automatic dignity. A cool rebuke to all foibles, a 
 lecture upon the unities of life, with a smile of 
 pity for all emotion, with a silent compliment for 
 all intellectual reserve, he appeared to me a sov- 
 ereign, in need of no crown to complete his roy- 
 alty. When in my mind I sought to criticise him, 
 he met it with a look, a gesture, and it faded into 
 a sort of thin admiration. All women must ad- 
 mire him, I thought ; and yet I wondered whether 
 he could compel the unrestrained outburst of any 
 woman's love. 
 
 " You remind me very much of a picture I 
 found in Venice, an etching," said he; and it 
 would have been girl-like to make fun of the pic- 
 ture, but I did not. I said that I should like to 
 see it. " Some time I may have the pleasure of 
 showing it to you," he replied. " You have her 
 form, her hair and her eyes, suggest yours." 
 
 He did not say that mine suggested hers, and 
 this pleased me, this delicate discrimination in my 
 
 210
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 favor. Footsteps approached the door. They 
 passed, and I was glad that it was not quite time 
 for Nevum to return. But Edward ! Had I for- 
 gotten him for a moment? Yes, but only as we 
 forget the glow of a sunset to look upon a pearl- 
 hued cloud. 
 
 " I did not bring home with me many works 
 of art," he said. Many works of art! He spoke 
 of them as I should have spoken of leaves and 
 grasses gathered in the country. I could imagine 
 my aunt warming toward him, not that she cared 
 for art or knew what it meant, but that it in- 
 volved money. 
 
 " But this picture enraptured or rather en- 
 gaged me." Enraptured was a little too strong 
 for him. " It was in the lowly house of a marble 
 cutter and bore no name. But now I shall call 
 it ' Gypsy.' If you do not object," he added, 
 smiling; and I thought of a clear morning when 
 the frost sparkles on the sapless grass. " Ah, I 
 beg your pardon, but would you mind telling me 
 something about yourself, your early life?" 
 
 I could have replied that I was not a pioneer, 
 to have had an early life ; I did, and he laughed, 
 
 211
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 and I thought of snow shaken from the leaves. 
 But the snow sparkled, and I was pleased. 
 
 Then I told him of the hills near my old home, 
 of the wild grape vines, of the black-haw trees, 
 of the fox den beneath the cliff, of rocks and of 
 a little stream that photographed the sun all day 
 long; and he said that he could see me amid these 
 surroundings, happy, with my ringletted hair in 
 a black flame about my shoulders. 
 
 " And you gave it all up to come here to live 
 in this grim foundry," he added; and if his eyes 
 had not been so cool I should have thought them 
 sympathetic. 
 
 ' Yes, because I did not wish to see it spoiled 
 ruined. But I don't look upon Chicago as a 
 foundry. Nowhere is there greener grass than 
 in the parks and the Fair is a picture of all the 
 world reduced." 
 
 " Very good," he answered. " Very. But you 
 spoke of leaving home to keep from spoiling it all. 
 What do you mean by that? How could your 
 remaining there have ruined it all ? " 
 
 He invited respect, but not flippant confi- 
 dences ; and I felt that to tell him, on so short an 
 acquaintance, would seem on my part 'a want of 
 
 212
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 that reserve which he must so much admire; so, 
 laughingly, in order not to appear too serious, I 
 replied that I might tell him when he should show 
 me the Venetian girl. 
 
 " Ah, if you had not said that so laughingly I 
 might have requested you to appoint a time, the 
 sooner the better," he replied; and he looked at 
 me, half hoping, I fancied, to find me solemn ; but 
 I laughed again, fearing that a bearing of too 
 much gravity might make it appear that I was 
 bidding for an invitation. Now for a time we 
 did not speak, the noises from the street seeming 
 to freight a silence into the room. I wondered 
 if Edward had returned. 
 
 " If I lived in your state," said the architect, 
 " I should be grieved to remember that my fath- 
 ers cut a new state off from that old land of tra- 
 dition and romance." 
 
 This touched me. I had often thought of it, 
 sorrowfully, not that I deplored the cause, but 
 that I lamented the effect. Old Virginia was 
 lordly, and with the delicate sympathy of the 
 true aristocrat, had first advocated the abolition 
 of the slave trade. I spoke of it, this spirit of hu- 
 manity, these tender hearts beating beneath im- 
 
 213
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 ported silk and embroidered waistcoats; and he 
 replied : 
 
 " Ah, yes, a bit of history not particularly em- 
 phasized in the public schools. It may be of no 
 interest to you, but my parents were from Old 
 Virginia. They settled in Ohio. If they had re- 
 mained where I was about to say where they 
 belonged I should doubtless have been an artist 
 instead of an architect." 
 
 " But now you are both," I replied. For a 
 moment his countenance looked as if the sun 
 were shining upon it, but I knew that the sky 
 was overcast with a veil of fleecy clouds. 
 
 Nevum entered, pretending to be in a great 
 hurry. " Ah," he cried, upon seeing Bayless, " I 
 was thinking about you a moment ago." 
 
 " I hope you were thinking of building a mar- 
 ble temple and of assigning the plans to me." 
 
 " It was not of a marble hall," replied Nevum, 
 " but since it was only a dream it wouldn't have 
 been any more extravagant to have substituted 
 alabaster for brick. I was thinking of building 
 a house." 
 
 " Ah," laughed Bayless, " and you thought I 
 would be pleased to put your plans into lines and 
 
 214
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 cornices and to make you a present of them. You 
 thought of me because you presumed I wouldn't 
 charge you anything because you have enter- 
 tained me with some of your distresses. I don't 
 suppose you ever noticed it," he added, speaking 
 to me, " but it is a fact that when a man tells you 
 his collection of hard luck stories he feels that he 
 has taken you into his confidence to a degree that 
 should, on your part, waive all financial obliga- 
 tion." 
 
 I replied that I had not noticed it, but that it 
 had a plausible aspect and that it was doubtless 
 true. He rewarded me with a smile for having 
 showed a disposition to decide in his favor. 
 Nevum shook his head with assumed gravity. 
 " Our friend Bayless," said he, " is almost 
 enough of a poet to pretend that he despises 
 money." 
 
 " Very true, Nevum," Bayless replied, " but I 
 haven't as yet attained to that state which might 
 warrant me to work for you without pay." 
 
 Two men joke each other and forget. Two 
 women joke and remember. One woman recalls 
 that the other woman has said a sharp and un- 
 
 215
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 gentle thing. If such a thing has not been said, 
 it has been looked. That is worse. 
 
 Nevum and Bayless, putting their heads closer 
 together, began to talk of church affairs. I gath- 
 ered from what they said that if put upon oath 
 they both of them would have confessed to a 
 creed. They would have acknowledged being 
 Christian. " The way to wipe out a church debt 
 is to increase it," said Nevum. " Build a new 
 church, add the old debt, arouse the pride of the 
 congregation with the beauty of the new struc- 
 ture, and there you are soon to emerge from 
 financial trouble. Old men are ready to build 
 new churches. They wish to flatter the Lord. 
 I've got some figures somewhere. Out here, I 
 think." 
 
 He withdrew from the room. Bayless came 
 over closer to me. " He is about to turn this 
 casual call into business," said he. " But I'm 
 sorry he broke into our conversation. I should 
 like to continue it. Would you object to my call- 
 ing on you some evening? Please give me your 
 address." 
 
 On a slip of paper I wrote it for him. He put 
 the paper into his pocket. Nevum entered. 
 
 216
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " Here they are," he said. Then for a time 
 they talked business, their voices sinking into a 
 beehive hum. But occasionally the eyes of the 
 architect wandered off, to a map on the wall, to 
 the window, to me; and I was pleased to arrest 
 his wandering look, to receive it into my eyes, 
 for a woman has achieved a conquest over the 
 greatest of her rivals when she draws a man's 
 mind from "business." During a long time they 
 continued to talk, low in their stiff collars, secrets 
 of their church, scandals, perhaps; and I pro- 
 ceeded with my work, but did not dismiss the 
 architect, for occasionally I looked toward him, 
 with a tickling of my vanity when his eyes met 
 mine. He pleased me by causing me to be pleased 
 with myself. I flattered myself through him. 
 
 I saw Edward's face through the glass door. 
 It vanished instantly. But in one moment I saw 
 enough pain and distress to cast a recurrent sor- 
 row over the afternoon a coming and a going 
 and then a coming back of a deep regret, a throb- 
 bing ache. Now I desired that the architect 
 should go. In giving my mind to him I felt that 
 I had done injury to Edward, though in no way 
 had I acknowledged that I was bound to him. At 
 
 217
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 last Bayless arose to take his leave. At this mo- 
 ment I struck a z in place of an x, and in halting 
 to erase it, looked toward the architect. He 
 bowed to me. When he was gone Nevum said: 
 " You two seem to have had quite a visit and 
 to have become pretty well acquainted." 
 
 " It does not take long to become acquainted 
 when the way has been prepared," I replied. 
 " You desired that we should meet, you know." 
 " All women are the embodiment of one an- 
 other. They never forget a man's mistake," he 
 said, looking upon me as if he had discovered a 
 deplorable truth. " One day I happened to men- 
 tion him, as well, a sort of artist, a man out 
 of the common. I didn't think I had been dele- 
 gated by Fate to bring you together." 
 
 " If we enter into a discussion now," said I, 
 " it will take us the entire evening to explain our- 
 selves to the interruption of the play." 
 
 " Oh, you are still in the humor to keep your 
 promise, eh? Very well. And to take dinner 
 with me. Very well again." 
 
 From this time until half after six I was busy, 
 looking often toward the glass door, with the 
 throbbing, the coming and going of the regret; 
 
 218
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 but I did not see Edward's face again. When 
 Nevum and I went out, the office was deserted. 
 He said something about a private dining room, 
 but I cut him off with an objection. He did not 
 presume to argue with me, but said that I was the 
 one to be pleased. I did not think that this was 
 true, but said nothing. 
 
 We entered a place that was too curtain-drawn 
 to be wholly without suspicion. It was up one 
 flight of stone steps. From the hall corridor an 
 elevator was constantly taking men and women 
 to the floors above. Nevum looked toward the 
 elevator and then at me. I shook my head. We 
 then went into the public cafe. There were not 
 many persons in the room, but every one present, 
 both men and women, gazed at me. I thought of 
 Charlotte Corday when the string broke, reveal- 
 ing her bosom to vulgar eyes. But if I were an 
 assassin it was not of tyranny but of my own 
 modesty. 'Nevum divined the cause of my 
 blushes, for I must have blushed. " The place is 
 eminently respectable," said he. " These people 
 are foreigners and are paying you the compli- 
 ment of their admiration." 
 
 Vanity, the rose water that cools a blush! I 
 
 219
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 was soothed; not only that, I was flattered. For 
 my mother I had danced in drop-stitch stockings. 
 My love for admiration dated back to the nest. 
 It had been fed often, but never gorged. I was 
 hungrier for it than I was for food. 
 
 " You look handsomer than I ever saw you," 
 said Nevum. A German with twirled-up mus- 
 tache was gazing at me. Nevum asked me if I 
 would not do him the honor to drink a glass of 
 wine. I wanted it, but declined. He did not 
 urge me. " You must not make me appear 
 cheap," was his mild protest. The meal was any- 
 thing rather than cheap. It was a feast worthy 
 of all remembrance, to an epicure a gratification 
 and to a novice a surprise. As we were going 
 out, the twirled-up mustache stared at me. I 
 thought of my dress, my working clothes, and 
 resented his impudence. 
 
 I do not remember much of the play. The ma- 
 jority of plays are like dreams. No matter how 
 vivid, they leave but an indistinct vision in the 
 mind. To endure, they must be read. Then 
 they may be mused over, the strong parts read 
 again and again. But you cannot go back over 
 a vision to note its beauties. It moves away from 
 
 220
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 your touch, like a fog. Once when the foot-lights 
 were lowered, I thought of Edward's downcast 
 look. I wondered if he were sighing over me. 
 Did I wish him to sigh over me ? I did. It were 
 a tribute, a conquest and therefore was sweet. 
 And the architect. Did I wish him to sigh ? Yes. 
 They say that vanity is frail. But sometimes it 
 is strong. It is willing to torture itself that it 
 may afterward enjoy a victory. Edward's face 
 at the glass door was a torture, but it was a vic- 
 tory. 
 
 As we came out upon the sidewalk, Nevum 
 said that he would take me home in a carriage. 
 I drew back ; but he had by this time spoken to a 
 hackman. The door of the vehicle was opened. 
 Fearing to create a scene, I entered. We rolled 
 away with a sort of velvety motion. The air was 
 soft the streets seemed to be of down. 
 
 "Did you like the play?" he inquired. He 
 was close to me. I gave him more room. 
 
 " I don't know exactly. There were not 
 many pretty dresses." 
 
 " Dresses ! Is that all there is to art 
 dresses?" 
 
 " About all there is to woman's art." 
 
 221
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " I don't think you believe that." 
 
 " Whether I believe it or not, you can't help 
 but see it's true. I ought not to have gone into 
 that eminently respectable restaurant, dressed 
 as I was." 
 
 "You could not. have looked more like a pic- 
 ture. You were entrancing. You brought in a 
 new atmosphere ; you cast a spell over the place." 
 He touched my hand. I withdrew it. " I beg 
 your pardon," he said, as if it had been an acci- 
 dent. " As I looked upon your glowing cheeks 
 tonight, I wondered how your heart could be so 
 cold," he said. 
 
 ' There is a glow in the sunlight reflected 
 from ice," I replied, laughing. 
 
 " Ah, that was it, a northern light," he said 
 with a gurgle. " Ah, but snow-capped moun- 
 tains may be volcanic and may gush forth fire," 
 he added. I gave him more room. " You seem 
 to be afraid of me." 
 
 I pretended to be surprised. " Afraid of you ? 
 Why?" 
 
 " I don't know. And your heart may one day 
 gush fire celestial fire. You could enchant a 
 god." 
 
 222
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " I would rather inspire a plowman." I said 
 this because I thought it poetic. 
 
 ' 'Ah," he quickly replied, " but if you should 
 you would then leave him helpless." 
 
 " The inspired don't need help. They con- 
 quor." 
 
 " Then if you should inspire a plowman you 
 would give yourself to him." 
 
 " Perhaps he would take me. I could not de- 
 fend myself against the power of my own in- 
 spiration." 
 
 " But why think of a plowman ? There is no 
 man that would not be proud of you, your ap- 
 pearance, your mind." 
 
 " I didn't know I had a mind." 
 
 " Don't blaspheme the source of such an en- 
 dowment. It is a constant marvel to me, a won- 
 der never ceasing. You were surely intended 
 for great things." 
 
 ' To beg for girls that they may keep their 
 pianos." 
 
 " Please don't speak of that," he said in tones 
 of pleading. He was so near me now that I could 
 feel him trembling. " You make me believe that 
 
 223
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 your coming with me was but a sacrifice. Was 
 it?" 
 
 " Dinners, music, theatres are not sacrifices. 
 They are pleasures." 
 
 " Thank you. But speaking of your mind. 
 You are intended for something better than " 
 
 " Writing duns," I broke in. 
 
 " Well, yes. Better than working at all. You 
 ought to adorn a home." 
 
 " Any one who has a home ought to adorn it," 
 I replied. 
 
 " Why do you quibble so ? Why don't you 
 at least try to be serious?" 
 
 " We are never serious when we try, but when 
 we can't help it." 
 
 " Well, then, why don't you be serious with- 
 out trying? But wait a moment before you say 
 something to sidetrack me. You said a moment 
 ago that any one who has a home ought to adorn 
 it. That is true. And is it not true, also, that 
 in the economy of this life every one every 
 woman ought to have a home? Have you ever 
 thought of that?" 
 
 " Yes, I have thought of it." 
 224
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " But I offer you a home and you refuse it. 
 You said you could not love me." 
 
 He was so serious, and this id^a was so ridic- 
 ulous. With my handkerchief I smothered the 
 noise of my laughter. Saying that I could not 
 love him was refusing a home. I shrieked in- 
 wardly. " Don't you remember ?" he went on. 
 " Surely you do." 
 
 It was with an effort that I replied : " Yes, I 
 remember saying that I could not love you." 
 
 " Do you still hold that opinion ?" 
 
 " The truth remains the same. It was not 
 merely an opinion." 
 
 " I could make you happy." 
 
 " Which is to say that you could compel me 
 to be happy. Real happiness is a privilege that 
 we permit one to enjoy. W r e might compel sub- 
 mission but not happiness." 
 
 " Quibbling again. Whose foolish dialogues 
 did you study at school? Who strove with va- 
 porous logic to smoke the truth out of your 
 mind?" 
 
 " That is very good. I like you best when 
 you talk that way. You give me something to 
 
 225
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 think over, to remember and to wonder as to 
 what you could have meant." 
 
 " But when my meaning is perfectly clear 
 and honorable; then you don't like me so well. 
 I have asked you to be my wife and you con- 
 tinue to quibble." 
 
 "I thank you for your complimentary lack of 
 judgment as to myself. But I can't accept the 
 honor. I should nof make you a good wife. A 
 domesticated vanity is a very pretty adornment, 
 but my vanities have not all of them been 'tamed/ 
 I shudder at the thought of fetters unless I 
 should forge them myself. The King of Cypress 
 was chained with gold, but he was nevertheless 
 a prisoner." 
 
 " Come, please don't talk like a librarian. Be 
 a natural woman." 
 
 " But you are asking me to be unnatural. You 
 want me to marry you and that, too, when I 
 have said that I can't love you. If I could love 
 you, pleading on your part would not be neces- 
 sary. I would rush to your arms and almost 
 strangle you with affection." 
 
 He sighed. " You are a puzzle to me. We 
 see precocious children, but a precocious wom- 
 
 226
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 an is unnatural, almost unheard of, a sarcasm 
 directed at her own sex." I had heard this be- 
 fore from the Judge. Nevum continued : " I 
 tell you that I am a man accustomed to talk on 
 knotty points, tangled phases of life to juries 
 who hold life or death in their hands. Circum- 
 stances have forced me into a distasteful business, 
 but I shall get out of it. I am not too old. I have 
 a daughter about grown, but I married young." 
 
 " I don't doubt that you are fitted by educa- 
 tion and experience for better work. I don't 
 question that you are sincere, at this moment. 
 But the spirit that stimulates argument now, 
 would, if we were married to each other, foster 
 quarreling. You have paid tribute to my mind. 
 But don't you know that mental and moral qual- 
 ities are not necessarily twin sisters ? They may 
 not be even second cousins. In fact they may 
 be strangers." 
 
 " But gracious alive," he exclaimed, " you 
 don't mean to hint that you are not wholly 
 moral, do you?" 
 
 " I'm not hinting at all. I am saying. But 
 I don't know to what degree I am moral. I have 
 never been tried. My classmate was tried and 
 
 227
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 she I don't know whether to say that she fell 
 or arose. She embraced nature. She set aside 
 her unnatural vows. I might possibly do the 
 same. The warmth of my heart might lull my 
 brain to sleep." 
 
 He protested that he could not believe me. 
 He swore that he would trust me to the end 
 of the world. " And at the end of the world," 
 said I, " there might be a jumping off place. 
 Suppose I should jump? I wish that I could be 
 frank without giving offense." 
 
 " I don't see how in the name of God you 
 could be more frank," he replied, with a 
 groan. " If you think anything else, say it. Don't 
 think to spare me." 
 
 ' Well," said I, " mystery of sex is the stim- 
 ulous of marriage. Old men I beg your par- 
 don old men do not come with that mystery. 
 With them the mystery seems to have been 
 solved. You do not appeal to me sexually." 
 
 " God, what frankness," he groaned. 
 
 " I wish you had said, God what sense," I re- 
 plied. 
 
 He sighed deeply and said : " You talk like 
 a professor of physiology." And after a few 
 
 228
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 moments he added : " Then you place sexuality 
 above everything." 
 
 " In the matter of marriage love ? Yes. Na- 
 ture has done so. And when we oppose na- 
 ture, we suffer for it." 
 
 For a long time we were silent. The carriage 
 rolled on, street lamps flashed glimpses of light 
 in upon us. I was not acquainted with the land- 
 marks, but it seemed from the time consumed 
 that we must be nearing my home. I did not 
 wish to resume the conversation. I had spoken 
 with a freedom that had surprised even my- 
 self, but I did not regret a word. I drew a sort 
 of contentment, not to say a congratulation, from 
 the belief that I had been honest. 
 
 " I never expected to hear a young woman 
 talk that way," said Nevum. " So you refuse 
 to be my wife." 
 
 " I would not be so harsh as that. I decline 
 to be your wife; and, very much for your good." 
 
 " More unnecessary boldness. If all women 
 should talk to all men as you have talked to me, 
 there wouldn't be any more marriages." 
 
 " Perhaps not," I assented. 
 229
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " And the race of man would come to an end," 
 said he. 
 
 " That wouldn't hurt the past and there 
 wouldn't be any future to care," I replied; and 
 a glimpse of light revealed that he was pressing 
 his hand to his forehead. 
 
 " It is evident that you don't care for the love 
 of an honest man." 
 
 " Honesty does not necessarily stimulate love. 
 A woman loves because she can't help it and 
 not because she has a reason for loving. Every 
 woman who loves is doomed to suffer, no mat- 
 ter how much she may be loved in return. Her 
 own love enslaves her." 
 
 " Ah," he cried, " that is my argument. It 
 proves that she ought not to love so much, that 
 without this intoxication she really would be 
 happier. Let love be a heightened friendship. 
 Let it manifest itself not in delirium but in the 
 adornment of a home." 
 
 The carriage slackened its speed, veering to- 
 ward the side walk. " Here we are," said I. 
 
 He took my hand. I did not resist him. 
 Since there was so perfect an understanding it 
 could be in no other spirit than that of respect. 
 
 230
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 But he attempted to put his arm about me, to 
 kiss me. I turned upon him with a force that 
 must have left no doubt as to my feelings. The 
 old fool had mistaken my frankness. He tried 
 to apologize, saying repeatedly that he meant 
 no harm, but I left him without saying good 
 night. 
 
 231
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 SAID SHE WAS SILLY. 
 
 My aunt had gone to bed but I went to her 
 room, gave an account of the night, and told 
 her that I should have to seek another place. 
 She sat up in bed, for a time too indignant to 
 speak; and when she spoke she said: "Trying 
 to compel you to marry him, and the chances 
 are that he rents the house he lives in." 
 
 And so to her, his crime was that he was not 
 sufficiently well off. I emphasized the fact that 
 he had unmannerly striven to kiss me, and she 
 said : " Yes, and it shows how he was brought 
 up. But did he tell you how much he was worth ? " 
 
 " No aunt, and I didn't care. I wouldn't mar- 
 ry him even if he owned half of the South Side." 
 
 " Oh, don't be extravagant, my dear," she re- 
 plied. " Be reasonable, at least." And then she 
 added : " I don't think you'll have any trouble 
 in finding another situation. Good looking girls 
 never do. But my dear, you must curb your 
 
 232
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 opinions. A woman to get along well with men 
 shouldn't have any opinions, except on trivial 
 matters. Try to remember this. I am older than 
 you and therefore have more experience, and I 
 know that opinions have hurt me, many and 
 many a time. If you think of a bright thing, 
 try to engineer it so that the man may say it. 
 Laugh. You've got good teeth so laugh. That 
 will be an answer to every question. Well, to- 
 morrow you may go down and find another 
 place. You'd better send a note very early tell- 
 ing that Nevum you are not coming. And re- 
 mind him to send any little balance that may 
 be due you, out here at once. You'll find a 
 letter for you on the mantelpiece." 
 
 The letter was from my mother. After say- 
 ing that she thought she would write me a few 
 lines she informed me that Samuel was not do- 
 ing much of anything, that she needed several 
 articles of dress and that as soon as I could I 
 must send her some money. " While you are 
 living in luxury you must remember those who 
 are not so fortunate," said she, underscoring 
 luxury. " I know you will smile at me, but there 
 is going to be a ball over at Howerson's and I 
 
 233
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 want to go, especially as they have invited me 
 most cordially; and you know that they are at 
 the top of our heap. So, if you can fit me out 
 with any little thing, please do so. Annie Pat- 
 terson, nee Sampson, you remember, was over 
 the other day, and a more miserable woman I 
 never saw. She married for love, you remem- 
 ber, bidding defiance to her mother's advice. 
 She could have done well, but she chose to do 
 otherwise. The man she married worked hard 
 enough, and he seems to think a great deal of 
 her, but she lives in a mean little old house and 
 no one cares to go to see her. And why? Not 
 because they don't think just as mudTof her as 
 ever they did, but for the reason that they don't 
 care to look upon her in her want. There was a 
 case of most passionate love for you, and what 
 has it amounted to? Misery. Remember that. 
 Misery. I suppose you see Olive quite frequent- 
 ly. Her mother has just received a letter from 
 her, saying that she spent the night with you 
 not long ago. And she is so happy. I never 
 gave Olive credit for very much sense thought 
 she was giddy and all that but I must say she 
 has turned out to the credit of the family." 
 
 234
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 I wrote to her that night, enclosing more 
 money than I could spare. I smiled to think 
 that Olive had shed such luster upon the fam- 
 ily name. I recalled the girl who had married 
 for love and so miserably; at school she had 
 been bright, in society a sort of belle. The 
 neighbors said that she had thrown herself away, 
 on that man, that honest but unfortunate man, 
 and doubtless she had. She would teach her 
 daughters to marry for money. 
 
 Early in the morning I dispatched a note by 
 messenger to Nevum, telling him that under the 
 circumstances I could not possibly come to his 
 office again. I thought of sending some word 
 to Edward, but decided not to, that it might 
 bring him out to the house and involve me in 
 an argument or at least a discussion with my 
 aunt. I knew that he would come soon; and I 
 was possessed of a sort of hunger to see him, 
 to say something that might drive the shadows 
 from his eyes. And yet I felt that the time would 
 soon come when I should have to defend my- 
 self against him, his love, his passion, his beg- 
 ging me to marry him. It had been so sweet, 
 so freshly sweet to indulge my fancy, to permit
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 my mind to enwrap him in fondness. But now 
 I must steel myself against myself. My mother 
 was not wholly wrong. Love has no common 
 sense; passion looks only upon the present; so 
 while there was common sense left to me, it 
 ought to protect me. I must be sane. 
 
 Before starting upon an indefinite round, to 
 look for a situation, I called at the hotel to see 
 Olive. A rap on her door was answered by 
 an invitation, in her voice, to enter. I did so; 
 and she and Pague both looked as if they might 
 have just reached the " curtain " of a little scene. 
 She was lolling on a sofa, book in hand, eyes 
 red. He was sitting at a table with a sort of blank 
 book open before him. Olive sprang up, em- 
 braced me, kissed me on both cheeks. Pague 
 held out his hand and said that he was more than 
 pleased to see me. He could have made his as- 
 sertion more pleasing had he added : " And I 
 must go now." But he didn't; he closed his book, 
 crossed his legs and twirled his thumbs. 
 
 " We have just had a row over my cousin," 
 said Olive. 
 
 " Not a row, my dear," replied Pague. 
 
 " Yes, Gypsy, a positive row. I told him just 
 
 236
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 now that when we returned home he mustn't 
 speak of having seen Cousin George here the 
 fact is, you, know, he left the military school with- 
 out permission. And Mr. Pague says that his 
 mother ought to be apprised of the fact. But that 
 isn't all. Mr. Pague doesn't want me to see him 
 any more." 
 
 " Now my dear, I didn't say that," Pague in- 
 terposed. " I said that it didn't look well for 
 you to be together so often. There's no harm 
 in it, I'm sure, but people will talk, you know." 
 
 " And he has complained of expenses," said 
 Olive. " Oh, I never thought it could come to 
 this complaining of what little pleasure I take 
 in being here. He has actually said that we 
 couldn't afford it. Oh, I never thought it could 
 come to that." 
 
 " You are wrong, my dear," Pague insisted. 
 " I said I couldn't afford to lose so much time 
 from my business. I must look after my affairs 
 or after a while I'll have nothing to look after." 
 
 " Well," she cried, " why don't you give me 
 the money you promised me? Then you can 
 go on and look after your affairs. No, you think 
 I'm a child to be scolded and then petted and 
 
 237
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 then sent to bed. But I'm not. I am a woman." 
 
 " I believe you are, my dear," he agreed, " and 
 I am trying to treat you as such. The fact is 
 that I must go home tomorrow." 
 
 " Then will you let me go out and stay with 
 Gypsy tonight? Do this and I will consent to 
 go home." 
 
 " Your aunt keeps a boarding house, I be- 
 lieve," said Pague, speaking to me. And then, 
 nodding at Olive, he continued : " We can both 
 go out there tonight and remain until it is time 
 to go to the train. Will that plan suit you?" 
 
 " No, it won't. It shows that you don't trust 
 me. Do you suppose that two young women 
 want a man stuck around all the time? Don't 
 you know that two girl friends have little se- 
 crets so foolish that that they don't want any 
 man to hear them? No, the fact is, Mr. Pague, 
 you haven't any confidence in me. Oh, it's that 
 and you needn't say it isn't. You have found 
 fault with me because I can't sit up like a law- 
 yer and talk about business. You turn my youth 
 to flaws. Yes, you do, and you know it. And 
 this is what I get for loving you." 
 
 She turned about upon the sofa and buried her 
 
 238
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 face in a pillow. Pague arose with a sigh, went 
 to her, sought to soothe her, slipped his hand 
 beneath the pillow, drew her head up against 
 his breast and spoke tender and foolish words. 
 But she sobbed that he had no confidence in her. 
 Finally he told her that he would give his con- 
 sent; and she arose with a smile, the tears 
 gleaming in her eyes; and she threw her arms 
 about him and kissed him and then flew to me 
 and then back again to him to reward him with 
 another kiss. Soon after this re-establishment 
 of perfect confidence, and while Olive was sit- 
 ting on the sofa beaming pleasure from her eyes, 
 I remarked that I was out to look for a place, 
 and that, too, without a " character " from my 
 former employer. Olive declared that she would 
 go with me. Pague objected. "Why not?" she 
 asked, pouting. 
 
 " Well, because well, I don't want you to 
 go into office buildings as if you were looking 
 for work." 
 
 " Oh, are office buildings such dreadful 
 places?" she inquired. "I thought they were 
 places of business and not traps for women," 
 she went on. " But of course you ought to know. 
 
 239
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 You have been about them a good deal. How- 
 ever, if they are not fit for me, surely they are 
 no place for you. A man oughtn't to go anywhere 
 if he is ashamed to have his wife go there. No, 
 he oughtn't." 
 
 " Olive," he cried, losing patience, " for the 
 Lord's sake don't be silly." 
 
 " Silly," she repeated. " Oh, now I under- 
 stand you. You think I'm silly. You don't 
 want me to go out alone because you think I 
 might disgrace you. Why didn't you tell me 
 that before? You were wrong to keep it from 
 me. I wouldn't have treated you that way. But 
 I'm going just the same. Did you hear what 
 I said? I said I was going just the same." 
 
 " If you go, I go," he replied. 
 
 " Oh, you are ? Now that would be a pretty 
 come off, wouldn't it? All of us trooping in, 
 asking for a job. They would take us for your 
 granddaughters and think we were out trying 
 to get work to support you. Yes, by all means 
 go with us, dear." 
 
 :< Well, how long will you be gone ?" he in- 
 quired, looking at his watch. 
 
 " I can't tell as to that," I replied. " It might 
 
 240
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 not take more than half an hour and it might 
 take all day. It is necessary that I should find 
 a place and I must keep at it until I do." 
 
 I arose to go. Olive took down her cloak and 
 hat. " Come on," she said to him. 
 
 " No, I won't go," he replied. " It seems that 
 your only thought is to get away from me and 
 it would be cruel not to indulge you. Go on. 
 Take good care of her, Miss Gypsy." 
 
 Out in the corridor Olive clutched my arm and 
 giggled. " Oh, the free air," she said. 
 
 241
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 FEELING ABOUT FOR HIS HAT. 
 
 The early autumn sun was glorious. Cham- 
 pagne bubbles were rising in the air, bursting, 
 intoxicating us. " Let us go to the Fair," said 
 Olive. " There is plenty of time to get a situa- 
 tion, and such days as these don't come often. 
 It is a poem, so new that it doesn't seem ever 
 to have been read before. Look at it, the leaves 
 are uncut." She almost danced along the side- 
 walk. 
 
 " Let us at least make a pretense," I replied. 
 " We'll go up here." 
 
 We entered a large real estate office. A young 
 man came forward to a railing and asked as 
 to whom we wished to see. I told him that I 
 desired to speak to the head of the firm con- 
 cerning employment. He inquired if I had en- 
 tered into correspondence with him. I pretended 
 that I had. This deception amused Olive, and 
 it ought to have caused me to blush, but it didn't. 
 
 242
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 We were shown into a private office. The man- 
 ager, a young and brisk man, regarded us with 
 surprise. He was all " business " and I saw that 
 no levity would be tolerated by him. It is easier 
 to natter age than youth. 
 
 The manager inquired if he could be of any 
 service to us. I told him without a smile that 
 I was looking for employment as a stenog- 
 rapher. 
 
 " I don't know but your visit is timely," he 
 replied. " I think we need another girl." He 
 touched a button. A bell rang. A man ap- 
 peared. " Ask Roland if he needs a stenog- 
 rapher." 
 
 The man withdrew. I tried to look " busi- 
 ness " at the manager. The man returned and 
 said that Mr. Roland would see me. We passed 
 through a large office where there was a hail- 
 storm of typewriting. No one looked up at us. 
 Within a railed off square sat another man that 
 looked like " business." He glanced at us and 
 inquired which one was it that desired employ- 
 ment. Upon receiving the information he 
 seemed pleased. He asked as to the salary I had 
 received formerly. I told him, making it just 
 
 243
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 a little higher. " Very well, call tomorrow morn- 
 ing and we may enter into an arrangement," 
 said he. 
 
 " Why, how easy it was," said Olive as we 
 went out. " And look at the money you'll get 
 almost enough to dress on. But more than 
 all that you are free free. You don't know 
 what that word implies. It's the most beautiful 
 word in the language. Every time I get out I 
 repeat it over and over to myself." 
 
 She continued to repeat the word over and 
 over. " But where are we going now ?" she in- 
 quired. <f Not back to the hotel, are we?" 
 
 " Don't you think we'd better go back there, 
 report progress and then go to the Fair. Then 
 you can go over and stay all night with me, as 
 you had intended, you know." 
 
 " Yes, but I always have such a hard time in 
 getting away. I'd have to go over all of my 
 arguments again." 
 
 This was true, I was prepared to believe; so 
 we went to the Fair, now dying its sublime 
 death. The leaves were tinged with the chill 
 of the night, the South Sea Islanders were shiv- 
 ering. The brides of June looked tired, and 
 
 244
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 bridegrooms had begun again to think about 
 business at home and were worried. Romance 
 was dying \vith the Fair. Ah, would it ever live 
 again for those brides, those hearts arrayed in 
 bedraggled sentiment? The end of the honey- 
 moon, the beginning of the failure of marriage! 
 Temperament, so artfully hidden, would now 
 rise into view. Opinions put submissively aside 
 would now assert themselves. Cynicism, the 
 surgeon of marriage, would soon begin its un- 
 successful operation. 
 
 " New shoes brides, brides," said Olive. 
 " But perhaps they love their husbands. Such 
 a thing can be, you know." 
 
 " I don't know," I answered. " But I should 
 hope so." 
 
 " Yes, there is such a thing as love," she said. 
 "I know it. If I don't, who does?" 
 
 I asked her if she would rather be married 
 to a poor man whom she loved and be compelled 
 to work for her living. She turned to me with 
 her eyes ablaze. " Yes rather take in wash- 
 ing," she replied. " Ah, we might sing over the 
 wash tub, but over an unhappy marriage we can 
 
 245
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 only groan. You hear him tell me not to be silly. 
 He does not suspect that I have a mind." 
 
 " That you took a prize for an essay," I re- 
 plied. 
 
 " Essay! I don't suppose he thinks I can more 
 than write my name. Never has he tried to 
 engage me on a subject that involved any 
 thought. He thinks that I ought to find per- 
 fect happiness in the trinkets he gives me. Let's 
 not go in here. It's the woman's building play 
 house for men to laugh at. Let's go to the art 
 palace." 
 
 We halted before a picture, the picture of a 
 young girl sitting at the feet of an old man, 
 gazing up into his face. " Come on," said Olive, 
 " the girl may be his wife." 
 
 " His granddaughter," I replied, admiring 
 the picture. 
 
 " No," she insisted, " let us go. You never 
 can tell, and I'm not going to take any chances." 
 
 She despised age. In it she saw nothing ven- 
 erable, nothing wise, no experience of life, no 
 kindliness nothing save the departure of youth 
 and therefore an evil. But before the picture 
 of a young shepherd with red lips and a distant 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 look in his eyes she halted for a long time and 
 mused. The work was of trifling merit, but the 
 lips were red and so were the lips of " Cousin 
 George." Upon coming out of the Art Palace 
 Olive said that she desired to telephone to her 
 husband, but not from the Fair from a drug 
 store near my home, as if that could make any 
 difference. So when we had passed out of the 
 grounds she telephoned that she was at my house 
 and would return to the hotel early on the fol- 
 lowing morning. My aunt was glad to see her, 
 as she was the wife of a rich man, and still she 
 regarded her with a regret as if she had wan- 
 tonly stolen that which by right had belonged 
 to me. 
 
 Immediately after dinner Olive became rest- 
 less and it was not long before she declared that 
 she had repented of the way in which she had 
 parted from her husband, and must therefore 
 go home at once. " I should like so much to stay 
 all night with you," she said, " but if I do I'll 
 never hear. the last of it. Oh, you don't know 
 what a mean memory he has for little things." 
 
 We were sitting in my room. There was no 
 one to overhear what I might say to her. And 
 
 247
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 I spoke freely what was in my mind. " Olive," 
 said I, " you had no intention of staying with 
 
 me." 
 
 " What, do you think I'm so changeable ?" 
 
 " No, I haven't accused you of being change- 
 able. I said you had no intention of staying 
 with me. You are going to meet Charley." 
 
 "Why Gypsy!" 
 
 " I knew it as soon as you said you were com- 
 ing to stay all night with me. But suppose Mr. 
 Pague should come down here tonight. What 
 could I tell him?" 
 
 " But he won't come away down here," she 
 cried, stamping her foot. " What makes you 
 say such unpleasant things? What right has he 
 got to come? Haven't I told him I'd be home 
 early tomorrow morning ?" 
 
 " Yes, but he is beginning not to believe you." 
 
 " Now what put that into your head ? He 
 does believe me. I'm sure he has no cause to 
 disbelieve me so far as he knows. Yes, I am 
 going to meet Charley. I am dying to see him. 
 I have passed two days of absolute torture. Why 
 shouldn't I meet him now now that we have 
 gone as far as we have?" 
 
 248
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " But Olive, you place me in such a position." 
 
 " Such a position ! By making you my con- 
 fidante? Gypsy, I never expected to be scolded 
 for having faith in you." 
 
 She pouted; she picked at the feather in her 
 hat. She threw the hat upon the bed, went to 
 the window and " tra-lard " an idle tune ; she 
 said that she wouldn't go; she sat down, and 
 sighing, folded her hands helplessly. Then she 
 arose and put on her hat. " Yes, I must go," 
 she said. " And if Mr. Pague should have the 
 ingratitude to come and inquire for me, tell 
 him what you please. I shall leave that to 
 your invention." 
 
 She was now standing before the mirror, 
 adjusting her hat. " Puritan, do you think I've 
 fallen very low ? Ah," she laughed, " you 
 would like to think so, but you can't." She 
 posed. No matter how many lives we may be 
 promised, we are assured of but one on this 
 earth. After this one, the purifying process be- 
 gins. Until we are pure, why pretend to be? 
 But what is purity? Tell me what it is?" 
 
 " I don't know. From your point of view, it 
 
 249
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 is doing what you choose. From mine I don't 
 know." 
 
 "No?" she laughed. "You don't want to 
 know. Once you ran away from an aversion, 
 let us call it. And a woman brave enough to 
 run from that, will, if tempted, run to her 
 tempter. But who was my tempter? My tem- 
 perament, my nature. Who could have changed 
 the course of my nature ? My parents ; but they 
 didn't. They wanted me to be cold, but wanted 
 that coldness to crystallize into a love for money. 
 I did as they wanted me to. Well, good-by. I 
 may not see you again for a long time." 
 
 She started toward the door, looking back at 
 me. I did not follow her. She ran back to me, 
 embraced me and tripped lightly down the stairs. 
 Shortly afterward my aunt came up. " Why, I 
 thought she was going to stay all night with 
 you," she said. 
 
 " She intended to, but has been stricken with 
 remorse to think of leaving her husband so 
 long alone." 
 
 " Ah, and still you think a young girl can't 
 care for an old man. You can learn much from 
 Olive, my dear." 
 
 250
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " Yes, I have learned much from her." 
 
 " Let us hope, then, that you may profit by 
 it." 
 
 " Yes, we may hope so, but whether I shall or 
 not remains for the future to determine." 
 
 Shortly after dinner, while some of the board- 
 ers were singing in the parlor, Edward came. 
 There was no other place, so I took him into the 
 general reception room where men smoked and 
 women talked Bohemianism, maccaroni suppers 
 and steins of beer. I introduced him and I 
 fancied that I could see their names floating out 
 of his mind. He was restless. He sighed as he 
 sat on the sofa. He asked me to take a walk 
 with him. I replied that I could not, that my 
 aunt was expecting visitors and that I had prom- 
 ised her to remain. After a time the board- 
 ers went out, leaving us alone. Instantly he 
 seemed as if a rush of words had shaken him 
 with their torrent, but he looked down again, 
 without speaking. " You were going to say 
 something," said I, regretting that I had been 
 untruthful. 
 
 " Yes. I was going to say that I was greatly 
 shocked today. I said nothing until noon, watch- 
 
 251
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 ing the door; and then I went into Nevum's 
 room. He was alone, walking up and down. His 
 letters had not been opened. I asked him if you 
 were ill. He answered that you were well, so 
 far as he knew. Then I boldly inquired why 
 you had not come. He said that you had de- 
 cided not to come again. That was all he would 
 say. Now you tell me, please." 
 
 I told him as much as I thought he ought to 
 know, made frankness a virtue, spoke of the 
 theatre and the ride home of the proposal. 
 " Tell me exactly what you said to him," Ed- 
 ward insisted. " What did you tell him ? I want 
 to know want to be made to feel that you 
 left him no hope whatever. I beg your pardon 
 if I seem too much interested. But you know 
 my heart." 
 
 I did know it and it was of no use to pre- 
 tend that I didn't. " My refusal could have but 
 one meaning the manner of it," said I. " He 
 knows that I shall never marry him." 
 
 " Yes," said Ejiward, leaning over, with his 
 
 f- 
 
 head in his hands, " but you ought to have made 
 it stronger. You don't know how dearly he loves 
 an argument, how unwilling he is to quit how 
 
 252
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 resourceful he is. He will come out here. Prom- 
 ise me you won't see him." 
 
 "How can I promise such a thing? Why 
 should I promise it ? I don't care to see him ; you 
 know that. But even if he should come a thou- 
 sand times and plead on his knees, it would make 
 no difference. He hasn't money enough to buy 
 me." 
 
 " To buy you ! Good Lord, don't intimate 
 that any one has that much money that any 
 amount of money could influence you." 
 
 " Don't talk so loud," I cautioned. " Some one 
 might hear." 
 
 " I beg your pardon. My words come with a 
 roar, and it's all I can do to soften them. Sit 
 over here and I won't have to talk so loud." 
 
 I moved nearer to him. His face was flushed 
 as if with fever and his eyes glowed like lamps 
 with darkened shades. He was thrillingly hand- 
 some, all animation, his gestures bearing the 
 unconscious grace of tragedy the stroke that 
 must stab an enemy or one's self. Sometimes a 
 word would seem to be drawn out with a quick 
 flash, like a short Roman sword; and with one 
 of his sudden motions he would seem to fall upon 
 
 253
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 it. Sometimes I watched him without hearing 
 what he said. But more than once, now that I 
 was even nearer him, I cautioned him not to ut- 
 ter his words with such force. " It is despair," 
 he said; and at this moment his tragedy caught 
 the gleam of a humorous light that fell from 
 somewhere and I could not repress a smile. 
 " How can you laugh at such a time," he 
 groaned. 
 
 " Because there is nothing to be so very se- 
 rious about," I replied. " You talk as if some 
 great crime had been committed. He pleaded 
 with me to marry him. Does that call for such 
 agony ?" 
 
 " You may well call it agony. It is agony to 
 me. And the agony comes out of my own weak- 
 ness or rather my helplessness. You won't 
 promise me anything, and I haven't the moral 
 or the intellectual strength to compel you. It 
 is true that we haven't known each other many 
 days, but sometimes the heart is a Joshua that 
 commands the sun to stand still. And so, be- 
 tween the morning and the night, an eternity 
 might endure. I have employed no insinuations. 
 I have not been able to hide from you a great 
 
 254
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 truth the truth that comes but once into the life 
 of a sincere man. You know that I not only love 
 you you know that I worship you that for one 
 word I could fall upon my knees at your feet and 
 die there, of happiness." 
 
 Now I was standing with my hands on the 
 back of a chair. His words frightened me. I 
 had expected something, a torrent of some sort, 
 but these words, spoken in torture, brought me 
 to my feet. I was seized with a desire to run 
 away out into the night, over by the shore of 
 the lisping lake. My heart beat wildly; it was 
 happy but my mind rebelled. 
 
 " Now you know," he said. " I might talk 
 always and I could tell you no more. But there 
 is something you must tell me. No, don't draw 
 back from me. I won't touch you I swear I 
 won't but you must speak a word to give me 
 hope. Poor I told you how poor I was; and I 
 am poorer now than when I told you, but I am 
 strong and yes, I am brave. I can face any- 
 thing. With you you as my wife, hardships 
 would be only as victories soon to be achieved. 
 Say that you love me that you will be my wife, 
 and the word hardship will die echoeless, and in 
 
 255
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 its place, in the dictionary, there will be a drop 
 of blood my heart's blood to remain ever fresh 
 always red. One word." 
 
 "I think I hear my aunt coming," said I. And 
 so she was. She came into the room, gave him 
 a frigid bow and sat down. He began to feel 
 about as if for his hat. I wonder why a man 
 seems to feel so much safer when he has his hat 
 in his hand. 
 
 "Did you bring a note from Mr. Nevum?" 
 my aunt inquired, clearing her throat. 
 
 " Er no, Madam. I haven't seen him since 
 about noon time." 
 
 " I didn't know but he had sent out the little 
 balance due my niece." 
 
 " No Madam, he sent nothing by me." 
 
 " Has my neice informed you that she has se- 
 cured a much better place?" 
 
 " No, Madam, but I think she was on the point 
 of telling me when you came in." 
 
 " Perhaps so. I am very glad she has made 
 the change. I don't think Nevum's office afforded 
 the proper scope for her abilities. Gypsy, you 
 needn't laugh. I am sure of it have known 
 it from the first. Now in real estate " 
 
 256
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 I broke in with an attempted pleasantry. I 
 said that I might be on more rising ground. Ed- 
 ward smiled faintly, but my aunt compressed 
 her lips. " Better ground at any rate," she said. 
 Then she inquired of Edward whether he ex- 
 pected to make his home in Chicago. " It is my 
 intention to enter upon the practice of the law 
 here," he answered. She cleared her throat. 
 Edward felt about as if again he were search- 
 ing for his hat. I knew that he was in agony, 
 but I could say nothing, do nothing to help him. 
 Muttering that he did not know it was so late he 
 arose and said that he must go. No one had said 
 that it was late. The time had not been men- 
 tioned. But the appearance of my aunt, cold 
 and with her mouth drawn, was quite enough to 
 produce any sort of illusion. I wanted to say 
 something to him, not the word he had sworn 
 would make him strong enough to fight against 
 the world and fate combined, but some little 
 word to encourage him, to send him away half 
 happy at least; but my aunt went to the door 
 with us. There was no chance. But he took 
 my hand as if in a friendly good night shake, 
 and I suffered him to hold it until my aunt turned 
 
 257
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 upon him with a clearing of her throat; and 
 then in submission and with a deep sigh, he took 
 his leave. My aunt closed the front door, locked 
 it, bolted it as if now there were need of double 
 security, and then bade me come into the par- 
 lor. I obeyed her, and when she had sat down 
 and smoothed herself out, she said : " And that 
 is the sort of thing you would marry. I tell you 
 he'll starve to death within a year after he's mar- 
 ried. Both nature and circumstances have ren- 
 dered it almost impossible for such a man to live. 
 Don't stand there now and tell me he loves you. 
 Any body can see that. But don't you dare 
 to say that you love him. Well may he have 
 hunger in his eyes. He'll have it all over him be- 
 fore he is done with it. Now don't go away." I had 
 moved toward the door. " I want to talk to you 
 and for your good." 
 
 It is always disagreeable when a relative talks 
 to us for our good, and in my countenance she 
 must have read my impatience. " Ah, is it such 
 a hardship to listen for a few moments ?" 
 
 I. told her no, that it was a pleasure. She 
 didn't clear her throat at me, but she looked and 
 in her look I saw that she knew to what de- 
 
 258
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 gree I had been untruthful. " I believe that some 
 time ago I told you that I stood in the place of 
 your mother/' she said. " But I am going to 
 stand in a manner a little more determined than 
 she stood. You are simply not going to marry 
 that office boy." 
 
 " You are not better apprised of that fact than 
 I am, aunt. I have never thought that I should 
 marry him. I never mused over the possibility 
 of it." 
 
 " Gypsy," she said, arising and coming toward 
 me with affection beaming forth from her coun- 
 tenance, " you are a good child ; and you will 
 be a comfort to your mother and to me. Good 
 night." 
 
 259
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 WOULD KEEP HIS WORD. 
 
 Early on the following day I was assigned to 
 work in the real estate office. And what a 
 change. In the former place my work had been 
 to depress, but here it was to exalt. It was 
 like turning from lugubrious prose to intoxicat- 
 ing lyricism. The company for whom I had en- 
 gaged to work was enlisted in the inflated en- 
 deavor to build a suburban town. Every lot was 
 a miniature Paradise. Every building was a 
 palace. The streets were speedways for the 
 chariots of the gods. To the wondrous advan- 
 tages of this world my eyes were opened anew. 
 
 My " boss," Mr. Roland, was lean, wrinkled, 
 bald, good-toothed, undertakerish in dress and 
 bearing, but his smile was a capitalistic sunrise. 
 And it was when this smile was in the full splen- 
 dor of its glow that he dictated his letters. I 
 don't know how long it took him to learn my 
 name. I don't suppose he ever did. When 
 
 260
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 spoken to I was always Miss Ah ; and when 
 spoken of I was " our young lady." I heard 
 one of the girls ask a co-laborer if the " squeeze " 
 had arrived. I soon learned that she meant the 
 main boss, the dignified head of the entire estab- 
 lishment. He was rarely seen except as he 
 chanced to pass through the low plain of the gen- 
 eral office. To be summoned before him was an 
 event in history. 
 
 In so far as was possible, I withdrew my mind 
 from everything else and centered it upon my 
 work, soon discovering that my education and 
 my reading, such as they were, contributed in 
 no meager way to my advantage. Once, about 
 the fifth day, when I had completed a long piece 
 of typewriting, almost a pamphlet, Mr. Roland 
 complimented me. His interest in me was stim- 
 ulated to the extent that he inquired as to my 
 name. I told him; and when, two days later 
 I had acquitted myself with credit, he again in- 
 quired my name. For a moment it looked as if 
 he were about to include my address, but as this 
 would have been in the nature of unwarranted 
 flattery, he desisted. 
 
 A week passed and I saw nothing of Edward, 
 
 261
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 but I heard from him, three letters, all about the 
 same, wild out-pourings of his love. My aunt 
 had not given to him the opportunity to ask me 
 for the number of my present place of occupa- 
 tion. He had spent the most of the noon hour 
 in a chance hunt for it, going into numerous 
 buildings, but had not been rewarded. He 
 knew, he admitted, that it would be embarrassing 
 to me to call during business hours, but such was 
 not his intention. He desired simply to know 
 where I was, so that he might watch for me 
 some evening as I came from my duties. " I can 
 see, or at least I strongly suspect, that your aunt 
 doesn't like me," he said. " Therefore it is not 
 well that I should trouble her house with my 
 presence. But she has miscalculated my nature 
 if she thinks that I am going to give you up. 
 If some one else leads you to the altar, I will 
 follow and protest against so inhuman a cruelty. 
 I know that we were born for each other, and 
 now all that remains is for me to convince you 
 of this truth. Won't you please come over to 
 our restaurant? Surely you cannot deny me 
 that small favor I mean that great favor. 
 Within a few days the Fair will close forever 
 
 262
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 its now historic gates. Can we not spend an 
 afternoon there? I promise to behave myself. 
 I will so conduct myself that no matter what I 
 feel, no one shall know. Do me this great kind- 
 ness, please." 
 
 It was not only a kindness to him but a pleas- 
 ure in store for myself, so I appointed a Satur- 
 day afternoon. I met him on the lake shore, 
 near the Iowa building, where the sobered waves 
 were murmuring low. The day was warmed as 
 if with a reminiscence of summer. Edward 
 came forward with an autumn leaf in his hand. 
 He begged me to wear it in my hair. I did as 
 he bade me. My silence and my submission to his 
 will lighted his countenance with a sad smile. 
 " Let us walk over yonder where we may be 
 silent and not heard," he said, with a laugh as 
 melancholy as a sigh. For a long time we walked 
 beneath the trees and amid the shrubbery of the 
 Wooded Island. The music of the Fair was 
 dying. That great strain of former life was now 
 more like a wail. On a bench beneath an um- 
 brella-shaped bush, covered with vines, we sat 
 down. He turned about, toward me, and from 
 his eyes poured something into mine, a spirit, a 
 
 263
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 passion; and I looked down. No one was near, 
 the world was far away, and he took my hand. 
 My glove was half off. His hand was hot against 
 my palm; but it was a joyous heat, a throbbing 
 life. 
 
 " God, how it draws the pain out of my heart," 
 he said. " It is the first moment of ease I have 
 had since oh, I don't know when ! I didn't know 
 that a man could suffer so much and yet con- 
 tinue to live. Gypsy?" 
 
 I did not answer him. A breeze was stir- 
 ring and above our heads the vines murmured 
 hoarsely. A dead leaf fluttered at my feet. A 
 companionless bird flew past, and homeless, 
 perched on the dead branch of a stunted oak. 
 
 " Gypsy, did you hear what I said ?" 
 
 " Yes, I heard you." 
 
 " And have you nothing to say ?" 
 
 " Silence says all, Edward." 
 
 " No, it does not say.all. It may acknowledge 
 much but can never say enough. I have told 
 you that I more than love you, that I worship 
 you. Without you there would be no universe. 
 God did not complete His work with Adam, with 
 Eve, but with you. Gypsy, do you love me?" 
 
 264
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " Don't you know in the restaurant, I told you 
 I did?" 
 
 ' Then ? You merely acknowledged that you 
 cared for me. Merely to care for me a dew drop 
 in the parching desert. It must be more than 
 that. I don't want you merely to care for me. 
 I wouldn't have your friendship. I want your 
 love God, if I could have your agonizing love. 
 Nothing else can satisfy me. Gypsy, I am al- 
 most mad." 
 
 I could well believe it. He trembled violently. 
 His eyes blazed. " Don't tell me that I must 
 not be mad. How can I help it ? They say that love 
 is a disease. It is. It is a death by poison. Into 
 my soul you have poured a poison a sweet but 
 deadly poison. Gypsy !" 
 
 " Don't, please. Some one will see us. Re- 
 member your promise. Don't you know, you 
 promised to behave yourself. You must. Don't 
 attract attention, please." 
 
 " I beg your pardon. I didn't know what I 
 was doing. Half the time now I don't know 
 whether I'm dreaming or awake. Sometimes 
 when I think I'm awake, I'm dreaming. But 
 tell me do you love me?" 
 
 265
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " If you won't ask me anything else I will tell 
 you." ' 
 
 " I will promise. Do you?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " You have told me. But is it that you just 
 do love me?" 
 
 " You promised not to ask anything else." 
 
 " But you fill my mouth with sweets and tell 
 me not to swallow. You have made me thirstier. I 
 want to feel in here in my heart that you love 
 me. I want to feel that you would be miserable if 
 I didn't love you. Would you ? Tell me that, and 
 I'll swear I won't ask another thing. I swear it, 
 in the presence of God." 
 
 " Yes, I should be miserable." 
 
 " Do you mean it ? Tell me." 
 
 " There, you have violated your oath. Don't 
 you see, I can't believe a word you say? " 
 
 " I beg your pardon. But you would seal my 
 lips. You would bid me be dumb." 
 
 " Let us talk about something else." 
 
 " Something else," he repeated. " Is there 
 can there be anything else? But I will keep my 
 word with you. Yes, if like a fire it slowly burns 
 my heart to ashes, I will keep my word with you. 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 I will show you that for you I can do anything. 
 These days since you left I have been insane. 
 Any one could see it. Nevum must have noticed 
 it. That old man who sits out there near my 
 desk, noticed it spoke about it. He said that 
 his heart had been broken many a time. Many 
 a time ! I could have trod him beneath my feet. 
 I told him that no heart could be broken but once. 
 He shook his head and replied, many a time. I 
 replied that vanity might be crushed often, but 
 that the heart had only one life and could suffer 
 extreme punishment but once. I don't see how 
 I could have lived through another day. I 
 couldn't. You don't know can't know. And 
 now, can there be poverty in the face of such 
 love? So encouraged and so strengthened, can't 
 I arise to achievement? Nothing can hold me 
 to the ground. Gypsy, will you be my wife ? " 
 
 " Again you have violated your oath. I don't 
 believe you are sincere. How can I ? You swear 
 and then prove yourself false. No, you don't 
 love me. If you did, you would keep your word 
 out of respect for me." 
 
 " I beg your pardon I do on my knees or 
 should if you'd give your consent. But you tie 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 my hands with a silken cord and when I flinch 
 with the cutting of the flesh, you censure me. It 
 is cruel, yes; but perhaps it is just. For what 
 should I expect? In this cold age such warmth 
 of love must appear unnatural. But why ban- 
 quet me and show me the guillotine? Tell me 
 one thing more and " 
 
 " No, nothing more. I have told you too much 
 already." 
 
 He sighed. " Yes, it was all a dream. I 
 dreamed you said you loved me. Tell me it wasn't 
 a dream. Tell me this, then that I dreamed 
 you said you would be my wife. May I with your 
 permission have dreamed that?" 
 
 It was more than I could assimilate and I had 
 to laugh. He reproached me, called me heart- 
 less, but after a time he insisted that I should 
 give my consent to his dreaming as his fancy 
 might lead him. 
 
 " Yes, you may dream that I promised you. 
 But that's all." 
 
 " Yes, all. But God, what a relief it is to 
 dream. The world is a dream all life a dream. 
 But may I awake and find my dream true, may 
 I?" 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " You have picked your oath to pieces like a 
 thistle down and have blown it away in the air. 
 No, I will tell you nothing else. You already 
 know too much." 
 
 : , Again he begged my pardon. He said that he 
 would not speak another word that might dis- 
 tress me. But after a few moments he asked 
 me if I would not remain on the Fair grounds 
 with him until after nightfall. He desired the 
 pleasure of walking with me beneath the moon. 
 I told him that there was no moon. This was a 
 hazard on my part. I didn't know whether or 
 not there was a moon. 
 
 " No moon ! " he said, and I thought that he 
 had entrapped me, but soon he agreed that I must 
 be right. Of late he had noticed neither the sun 
 nor the moon. For him there had not been even 
 a day, but all was a night, dark and full of dreams 
 that wrought upon his soul. " Then you won't 
 stay until after nightfall." 
 
 " My aunt would be uneasy about me." 
 
 "Is she of so much consequence? Is your 
 whole life to be devoted to her? She has taken 
 up the notion that it is a virtue to oppose me. If 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 it is family that she means I think I can satisfy 
 her. My family stands above reproach." 
 
 " Let us walk about," I said. He objected. 
 
 " Oh, no, let us remain here. Over there is 
 the vulgar crowd. Here we are on the verge 
 of heaven. Wait a moment." I had arisen. " Sit 
 down just for a moment longer." 
 
 " No; you have not kept your word with me." 
 
 " Now don't torture me. Is it that you delight 
 in my suffering ? How can you have the heart ? " 
 
 " If I can't believe anything you say, how do 
 I know you are suffering? " 
 
 " Can't you believe me ? I wouldn't tell you 
 a falsehood to save the blood of my heart. I 
 couldn't be untruthful to you. Your eyes draw 
 truth from me like the sun drawing up the 
 dew." 
 
 ' The sun dries up the dew. Do my eyes dry 
 up the truth?" 
 
 "How can you talk that way? Wait, I will 
 go with you." 
 
 For a long time we walked among the " ap- 
 proaching " ruins of the great exhibition. And 
 I soon discovered that it was his study and his 
 aim to draw me into deserted corners where he 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 might squeeze my hand. To myself I said that 
 I loved him ; and it was not perhaps to my credit 
 when I reflected that I should doubtless love him 
 more were he less devoted. In man's indifference 
 there is sometimes a show of strength, and even 
 the weakest of women admire strength. I have 
 often heard it said that a woman loves from the 
 moment when she finds herself loved. Would it 
 not be true also to say that a woman loves less 
 from the moment she finds herself worshiped? * 
 
 The chill of evening was coming on, breathing 
 down out of the silver sky. The sun was set- 
 ting. I said that I must go home. He begged 
 for the privilege the honor and the happiness, 
 he said, of accompanying me nearly to my aunt's 
 house, but this I was compelled to deny him. 
 
 " I shall go to my wretched room to dream/' 
 he said. " Ah, but you have promised that one 
 of my dreams the dearest of them all may 
 become a reality. Do you remember ? " 
 
 " I remember many things some of which I 
 ought to forget, perhaps. But your dreams are 
 your own. I cannot forbid them." 
 
 " Ah, but surely you wouldn't break your 
 word. No, you can't do that." 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " No, I suppose not. That right you reserve 
 for yourself." 
 
 " Don't say that. I would die rather than to 
 break my word with you. You told me you loved 
 me. Tell me you still love me that I have said 
 nothing to cause you to hate me." 
 
 " I am just as I was," I said. 
 
 He gave me a grateful look, pressed my hand 
 and hastened away. And I I went home with 
 his words and his eyes in my heart. 
 
 272
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 SHE HAD VERSES IN HER EYES. 
 
 In the afternoon of the following day Sun- 
 day, I have cause to remember I was lying in 
 my room trying to read, but with Edward's im- 
 passioned countenance between my eyes and the 
 book, when my aunt came with great excitement 
 to inform me that Bayless, the architect, was in 
 the parlor. " He came in a buggy with the finest 
 span of horses you ever saw," she said. " And 
 I know they must belong to him by the way he 
 treats them, and I think he wants you to go driv- 
 ing with him; and if he does, don't you dare to 
 refuse. Hurry along now, and get ready." 
 
 She helped me to dress, talking during the 
 time; and at the door as I was going out to the 
 stairs she kissed me, which meant, " Capture him 
 if you can. Remember your mother and me." 
 
 Bayless was dressed as if he expected to pose 
 as a spectacle at a horse-show. No clothed statue 
 could have been more representative of grace. I 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 caught the gleam of a diamond, and on the lapel 
 of his coat there glowed a golden chrysanthemum. 
 He bowed, and when I extended my hand, he did 
 not take it, but with his fingers nibbled at the 
 tips of my fingers. Had it not been so dignified 
 it would have been laughable. With exquisite 
 grace he sat down, knowing every moment what 
 to do with his hands, his feet, himself. His ease 
 was a study ; his little animations, coming slowly, 
 without friction and going the same way, were 
 like the gentle ripples of a pool, breathed upon 
 by gentle breezes. 
 
 " I was going to remark," said he, " that I 
 hoped you were well. But we never hope for 
 that of which we are already assured. I see that 
 you are in the best of health." 
 
 I caught sight of my aunt moving about noise- 
 lessly in the hall. In her countenance I read as 
 plainly as if written, the words : " Did you ever 
 hear the like?" 
 
 I replied that I was as well as any one could 
 be, and my aunt nodded approvingly, as if I had 
 uttered a thought concerning which there had 
 been some doubt, but which now was more clear. 
 So satisfied was she that she silently withdrew, 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 willing to leave the management of the situation 
 to me. As I looked upon this cool and wholly 
 self-possessed man, I wondered whether he could 
 ever have so deeply loved a woman as to tell 
 her as Edward had told me, that he could drop 
 upon his knees and die of happiness at her feet. 
 I smiled to think of it; and Bayless, supposing 
 that I was smiling over a remark he had made, 
 repeated it, the idlest of fancies, a nothing; but 
 a serious man thinks that his nothings are humor- 
 ous. He said that the day had been glorious, and 
 then softened it with a revision that it had been 
 charming. Glorious was too rich in color. I 
 spoke of my change of work. He raised his eye- 
 brows, too high at first and then lowered them a 
 trifle. 
 
 " It was no doubt well," he said. " The forg- 
 ing of duns is I should think a most depressing 
 occupation," he went on to say, marking off his 
 accents slowly, like a hall clock. " And you are 
 now a land boomer. Very expressive of the real 
 estate business, I am persuaded. My friend 
 Nevum and I are attracted toward each other for 
 the reason, I fancy, that in temperament we are 
 so very far apart. He makes business as serious 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 as possible, while I touch it as lightly as I can 
 by which I mean that I do not permit it to weigh 
 heavily upon me." 
 
 " But your affairs/' said I, " are more related 
 to art than to business." 
 
 He gave a slight shrug of the shoulder. I ac- 
 cepted it as a confidence and inclined my head. 
 
 " That is very nearly true," he said. " Under- 
 stand I do not mean that you utter it, believing 
 it to be true only in part, but that you have ut- 
 tered a fact in so far as you comprehend the situ- 
 ation, or rather I might say, the conditions. In 
 a way, or rather to some degree, my work is art. 
 But even art is necessarily followed by a commer- 
 cial transaction. It must have its recompense or 
 come to naught. Ah, I have brought my horses. 
 Would you care to drive ? " 
 
 I thanked him and ran up stairs to get my 
 wraps. My aunt was in the hall above. She 
 seized me as if I had won some sort of victory. 
 " Perfectly charming," she whispered. 
 
 It was a delight to speed behind horses " that 
 almost disdained the ground." Bayless spoke to 
 them as gently as if talking to a child. We passed 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 everything in Michigan avenue and then turned 
 for a leisurely drive in Washington Park. 
 
 " Oh," said my companion, " you doubtless re- 
 call that I spoke to you of a picture the one that 
 resembles you." 
 
 " Yes, I have thought of it a number of times." 
 
 " Ha, you have honored it with a frame set in 
 diamonds. Ho, boys." 
 
 It was a compliment to address me and the 
 horses almost in the same breath. 
 
 " Yes, the picture," he added. " I have thought 
 more of it since I discovered the resemblance." 
 
 " That is a higher compliment than I could 
 have paid it," said I; and he turned his eyes 
 toward me, and how cool they were, how differ- 
 ent from Edward's fire. 
 
 " Yes, you shall see it sometime. What were 
 you doing when I called ? It must have been that 
 you were reading poetry, for when you came 
 down there were verses in your eyes." 
 
 The prettiness of this speech, the softness with 
 which it was uttered, tingled me it made me 
 catch my breath as we do when swinging. 
 
 " I had been trying to read verses." 
 
 " Ah ! I thought so. May I ask whose ? " 
 
 277
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " Yes, and when I tell you, you may not ap- 
 prove. Byron's." 
 
 " Ah, he wrote in sunsets and punctuated with 
 the stars. Approve? Not for some, perhaps 
 but for you well, you are strong." 
 
 " But I don't feel strong when I read him. 
 His power makes me weak. I like to feel that he 
 has conquered me." 
 
 He spoke to his horses. He whistled inwardly. 
 " Byron is not my favorite poet," said he, slowly, 
 as if he had been called upon to pronounce a 
 judgment. " In him there is an unquestioned 
 splendor, but he dazzles too much. Ah, let me 
 say that I prefer wine. He is brandy." 
 
 " Perhaps that is the reason I prefer him for 
 quick intoxication," I replied; and again he 
 slightly turned his eyes toward me. 
 
 " Very good; very." 
 
 We drove in silence for a long time. The gar- 
 deners were digging up the roots of flowers to 
 store them away from the coming blasts of win- 
 ter. The birds were all of them gone. 
 
 " I have schooled myself," he said ; " yes, and 
 yet I like to contemplate an unschooled woman 
 one who gives rein to her prancing emotions. 
 
 278
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 It is picturesque. Some persons, both men and 
 women, begin to school their temperaments be- 
 fore they discover that they have any any of 
 decided characteristics. It is well to permit them 
 to reach a full state of development and then to 
 begin the proper restraint. The experience is 
 something worth and the victory is more of an 
 achievement. You are young. I am entering 
 the forties. But I shall not presume to tell you 
 what poets you ought to read. The poet we read 
 because we feel constrained to, makes no impres- 
 sion. Quickened water catches more of the dif- 
 ferent hues of the sky flowing emotions seize 
 upon more of the different phases of life." 
 
 He was not wholly clear, but he seemed to 
 mean what he said and I was pleased to listen 
 to him. Was it his reading or was it his manner, 
 coming upon him unconsciously, that had sub- 
 dued him into a moralist? "Desiring to leave 
 with him a good impression I could not be frank. 
 There was something I must hide, and for the 
 first time, I began to weigh a thought before ut- 
 tering it. I desired his respect. 
 
 " I haven't said that Byron is my favorite," I 
 remarked. " There are greater and more en- 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 nobling poets. Byron is the poet of moods of 
 rebellious moods, I might say." 
 
 " Rebellious moods. Then were you a rebel 
 this afternoon ? " 
 
 I had not been a rebel; I had been in submis- 
 sion, feeling that Edward possessed me and that 
 I had not striven against the importunities of his 
 passion. But to Bayless I replied that I had been 
 a rebel, that I was in rebellion against the dis- 
 criminations of life. 
 
 " Ah," he said, " that comes with every new 
 awakening along the road of life. The greed of 
 one generation becomes the injustice of a genera- 
 tion that must follow. It is with ease that we 
 find the faults of life, but it were the task of a 
 god to correct them. With each one of us there 
 lies a duty. And that duty is, to make as much 
 as possible of self. And I must say something 
 to you which no doubt has been uttered a thou- 
 sand times that you are fitted to adorn. 
 Frankly and I am not given to confidences 
 you are out of place in an office. They tell us 
 that work is ennobling. Some sorts of work are 
 ennobling for man. But for woman the 
 home, society. I may go further and say that I 
 
 280
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 don't believe you ought to be the wife of a mere 
 business man." 
 
 " I don't know that I ought to be the wife of 
 any one." 
 
 " Oh, yes, of the right sort of a man." 
 
 When a man speaks thus he always means that 
 he is the right sort. " You owe it to yourself to 
 develop your faculties," he went on. "As the 
 wife of a mere business man this opportunity 
 would not be afforded you. Such an aim can be 
 attained only through proper companionship. 
 You should marry your equal intellectually." 
 
 " Or, superior," I said, laughing. 
 
 He took it seriously. "Well, yes, that would 
 be better. Some one to develop you." 
 
 " To develop me toward what? " 
 
 " A very sensible question. Toward the com- 
 pletion, I might say, of your mind." 
 
 "And then to take that mind into society? 
 It would there be companionless." 
 
 " Ha, that was very shrewdly put. And, in it 
 there is more than a basis of truth. Still it de- 
 volves upon her to develop her mind." He wan- 
 dered off upon his travels in Europe, spoke of 
 brilliant women whom he had met, of Madam 
 
 281
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 Patti and her castle in Wales. And I listened, 
 for he was interesting too precise, a polite 
 guide book; but I enjoyed his recital. As we 
 were nearing my aunt's house he said : " I have 
 greatly enjoyed this drive. And now that we are 
 so well acquainted, you might look for me almost 
 at any time. Would such an understanding be 
 agreeable to you ? " 
 
 " Perfectly," I answered. When he had helped 
 me out I invited him to take dinner with us, but 
 with one of his model bows he thanked me and 
 declined. 
 
 282
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 SUCH AN OPPORTUNITY. 
 
 Dinner was ready but my aunt delayed the 
 meal ; and drawing me into her room she insisted 
 upon my going over all that had been said during 
 the drive. She was delighted. " Not in my rec- 
 ollection has there been so fine an opportunity 
 opened for a 'girl of modest pretentions," she 
 said. " I must write to your mother this very 
 night. Oh, I just know he is what do you call 
 it? A paragon among men? He can't help but 
 be. My, such manners. He seems to have come 
 out of a different world from ours. And how 
 thoughtful of you not to have married that 
 Pague. Why, there's no comparison none 
 whatever." 
 
 " But aunt, he hasn't asked me to marry him." 
 
 She looked as if I had offended her. " There 
 
 you go," she said, " jumping at conclusions." It 
 
 did not occur to her that she herself had made 
 
 the leap. "Hasn't asked you to marry him no, 
 
 283
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 but he will. Didn't he bring his best horses, the 
 very flower of his stable ? Didn't he tell you how 
 fitted you were to adorn a home? Such men 
 aren't idle, my dear. They know the value of 
 words and don't waste them. Compare him with 
 that fumbler that What's-his-name. You can't, 
 that's all. Coal bills ! I warrant you he's never 
 compelled to think about them. And winter com- 
 ing on, too." 
 
 Poor woman. Coal bills were the distresses of 
 her life. The winter was one long torture. The 
 first snow flake was a summon to shiver and to 
 dread. 
 
 " But tell me this," she said, taking my cheeks 
 between her hard hands and gazing into my eyes. 
 " Tell me that if he, or rather when he does ask 
 you to be his wife that you will not wound his 
 great heart by even appearing to refuse the 
 honor. Tell me that you will marry him. Tell 
 me that and I shall be happy." 
 
 " But I can't tell what I may say. He shall 
 know that I appreciate the honor, but I can't I 
 can't hear his words, I can't see him. Wait." 
 
 " Then I must leave it all with you." 
 
 She withdrew, not satisfied but, with hope in 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 her eyes. And that night, unable to sleep, I 
 strove to picture this coming event, to hear his 
 words and my answer; but Edward's pleading 
 rang like wild music in my ears, and in the dark 
 I could see his countenance aflame with love. 
 
 Next day I was honored. Shortly after enter- 
 ing the office Mr. Roland said to me : " Our 
 manager is going to St. Louis to investigate and 
 report upon the condition of our branch interests 
 in that city. He will in addition to his private 
 secretary take with him a young woman type- 
 writer. You have been selected. You will doubt- 
 less be gone a week." 
 
 He did not inquire as to whether or not I 
 should like to go. But I was not unwilling and 
 I bowed, with so exact an imitation of him that 
 had he not been blinded by business dignity he 
 could have seen it. Shortly afterward the great 
 man, our manager, sent for me. As I was going 
 into his room, several of the girls looked up with 
 envy in their eyes. The manager did not explain. 
 He commanded. I was to be ready within two 
 hours. So I hastened home to prepare for the 
 journey. My aunt was much excited. " It shows 
 that you are preferred above all of the others," 
 
 285
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 she said. " And you are to go with the man- 
 ager! Don't lose sight of that fact, my dear. 
 He is unquestionably a man of great affairs. Do 
 you know whether or not he is a widower? " 
 
 " I don't know anything about him. His gruff- 
 ness would argue that his wife is living." 
 
 " Oh, you mustn't talk that way. Men of af- 
 fairs can't smile always, you know. Why, that's 
 one of the biggest land companies in the world, 
 and I warrant you the president of the United 
 States doesn't get any bigger salary. Well, now, 
 get ready as quickly as you can and be just as 
 nice to him as possible." 
 
 " I'll do my work as well as I can." 
 
 " Yes, but don't lose sight of the fact that he 
 is the manager. Such opportunities as are com- 
 ing your way, I declare! Well, they come and 
 they go, remember that." 
 
 I was gone more than a week. The work was 
 hard. The manager was gruff and exacting. 
 Sometimes his words seemed to be rheumatic. 
 He had no sentiment that could not be footed up 
 and set down in figures. To him I did not speak 
 an unnecessary word. Except by my work he 
 had no means of discovering whether I had any 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 sense. I am sure that aside from my duties he 
 did not care. As we were returning, and just 
 before we left the train, he came to me and said : 
 " I wish to thank you for your efficiency. You 
 have done well." 
 
 His secretary, an old maid, a relation raked 
 out of the autumn woods of some far distant 
 territory, caught her breath. When he had 
 passed on down the aisle she said: "My, it's 
 the first time I ever knew him to flatter any one. 
 You must feel quite proud." 
 
 As soon as I had entered the door at home my 
 aunt rushed upon me with the question : " What 
 did he say? " 
 
 I told her. " But you don't mean that he said 
 nothing more." 
 
 " All he said except on business." 
 
 " Didn't he express an opinion on any sub- 
 ject?" 
 
 " Except as to the matter that called him there 
 he was deaf, dumb and blind." 
 
 " But his wife ? Did you find out anything 
 about her ? " 
 
 " I learned nothing whatever about his family 
 and if you will permit me to say it, I don't care 
 
 287
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 to know. I would rather walk to the altar with 
 the multiplication table." 
 
 " Well, never mind, I'll find out. There are 
 several letters up stairs for you." 
 
 The first letter I took up was from mother. 
 My aunt had written to her and she was now 
 congratulating me upon a " chance which should 
 not be viewed lightly." She said that to throw 
 myself away would be the most shameless of in- 
 gratitude. "After all we have done for you," 
 she went on. " If so much money had not been 
 expended on your education I might now be liv- 
 ing in comfort, but I felt that my first duty was 
 to you, and it remains for you to prove whether 
 or not I was wrong. If that great man should 
 ask you to marry him and you decline the honor, 
 it will break my heart. Let me again say that 
 no matter how much you love a poor man you 
 cannot afford to marry him. Love is an illusion. 
 Remember that. It cannot last long. On this 
 earth there is no greater sham than what is 
 known as home life. It is said that the American 
 home is the most miserable of all homes; and 
 Americans more than any other people marry for 
 what they foolishly regard as love. Ask any 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 woman who married for love and she will, if she 
 tells the truth, admit the shallowness of it all. 
 Marry that man and model yourself to suit him. 
 This is the wife's duty. They may talk about 
 her independence and rights, but she has none. 
 But she has a duty which she owes to herself 
 and that is to be taken care of. Remember this 
 to be cared for and supported. What could 
 prompt this letter except the deepest love for 
 you ? Yes, you have another duty and it is this 
 not to break my heart." 
 
 There were three other letters, all from Ed- 
 ward. They read as if they might have been 
 written in an asylum where love-maniacs are con- 
 fined. But in their very wildness they were sweet 
 and delicious strawberries that grow along the 
 margin of the hill-side rivulet. " Night after 
 night have I stood in the street, gazing at your 
 house," he said in one of his outbursts. " I did 
 not know your window but I knew the walls and 
 I worshipped them. Once I thought to set the 
 place afire, that I might save you that I might 
 press you to this bursting heart and then perish 
 in the flames. The countenance of your aunt, 
 the time when she followed us into the hall, afraid 
 
 289
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 that we might look a good night into each other's 
 eyes, proved to me that she was my enemy; and 
 knowing this, I would not embarrass you by 
 knocking at the door. But I ask you, Universe, 
 Heaven, if you are going to permit her to destroy 
 two lives. Remember, you told me that if you 
 thought that I did not love you it would mean 
 misery for you. Are you going to permit this? 
 I know that it is only my poverty that gives her 
 cause to dislike me. But do we not set our love, 
 inspired as it is, above all money? If money 
 brought happiness the richest people would be the 
 happiest. If wealth nourished love, then there 
 would be no divorces among the rich. But the 
 most miserable man in the world, the most 
 wretched woman in the world, is the man or 
 woman with a disease beyond the reach of money 
 the disease of the soul. If you do not marry 
 me, you blast my life and curse your own. This, 
 in letters of blood, is written in the book of fate. 
 Write to me. Send me the one word Love. 
 That one word alone is the message that God 
 would flash forth to the universe. It is the word 
 of all life. Send it me that I may live." 
 
 The next letter, taken up not following time 
 
 290
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 or date, but just as it came to hand, contained 
 these words : " You continue to be silent. In 
 the night my heart moans, and when the sun 
 arises it has not turned from its grief. The feet 
 of time have been shod in lead and heavily they 
 drag along. But why should I wish for time to 
 speed, since one day is as the dreary one that 
 went and halted and died before? There is no 
 time. All is stagnation." 
 
 Then, another : "I have found out where you 
 work and I learned with some little relief that 
 you were out of town. Relief? Yes, for it 
 showed that you had not been neglectful of my 
 letters. But why, no matter where you are, 
 haven't you written to me? Didn't your soul tell 
 you that I must have written and that I was 
 suffering for a word? As soon as you have read 
 this, write. Don't wait a moment." 
 
 I wrote. It was in my heart to tell him that 
 I loved him. But something else was in my 
 mind and my wanton heart refused to tell him 
 that I would be his wife. I had run away from 
 my mother but I was not yet beyond her influ- 
 ence. I believed that in her letter she had told 
 
 291
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 me a truth. Without comforts there could be no 
 home. Poverty supplied no comforts. 
 
 It was evening. I stole out to post the letter 
 to Edward. My aunt awaited my return. She 
 asked me if I had gone out to post a letter to my 
 mother. To avoid an argumentl answered that 
 I had. She asked me what I had written. " I 
 know what her letter contained almost as well 
 as if I had read it," she said. " She told you 
 what reason demanded that you should do. What 
 have you told her ? " 
 
 " That I should do what reason saw fit to de- 
 mand." 
 
 She smiled; she embraced me 
 
 292
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 HAD BEEN FROZEN. 
 
 The next day at noontime when I went down 
 out of the office, Edward was waiting for me. 
 He came forward with more of reserve than I 
 should have expected, and shook hands in quite a 
 friendly and uncompromising manner. " I insist 
 upon you taking lunch with me," he said; and 
 without waiting to receive a negative or any other 
 sort of answer, he proceeded to lead the way. I 
 did not object. We went to " our old restaurant," 
 as he termed it, and sat down at our old table. In 
 Chicago, history gathers rapidly. 
 
 " I suppose you have observed that I am striv- 
 ing to be sane today," said he. 
 
 " You are so sane that I hadn't noticed the 
 effort." 
 
 " But it has been an effort just the same. You 
 may, however, feel perfectly free." 
 
 We gave our orders and then he continued: 
 " Your letter did me a world of good. As I have 
 
 293
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 heard drunkards say, upon receiving money for 
 a drink, you saved my life. But you failed to 
 answer the vital question. Did you know that? " 
 
 I pretended that I did not know there was 
 a vital question to be answered. " Yes, there 
 was," said he. " You did not say that you would 
 marry me." 
 
 " Don't you know I reminded you once that 
 this was not the place for the discussion of cer- 
 tain subjects? " 
 
 " Yes, I remember. But there seems to be no 
 place. Your aunt doesn't want me to come to 
 her house. Does she ? " 
 
 " Well, I haven't heard her say that she 
 wanted you. She is a peculiar woman." 
 
 " Let us say, rather, that she is a very natural 
 woman. She objects to me on superficial grounds 
 my poverty. She knows nothing whatever of 
 my character, and hasn't taken the trouble, I 
 fancy, to guess at my abilities. But has she said 
 that she doesn't wish me to come to her house? " 
 
 " We must not discuss her." 
 'Then she has expressed herself freely?" 
 
 " She is a woman of opinions and generally 
 expresses them." 
 
 294
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " Yes, I know knew all about it from the 
 first. I felt it. But is there any place where 
 we may meet of an evening? When I come 
 back from oh, I haven't told you that I am or- 
 dered out of town. Yes, I am. Nevum has com- 
 missioned me to go to St. Paul to attend to some 
 business for him, and I shall be gone perhaps a 
 month. God, what an eternity. But there is 
 money in it business, as they say; and it will 
 enable me to approach nearer my own office, 
 twentieth story, skylight. I am to start this even- 
 ing and that is the reason why I was so deter- 
 mined to see you today. And are you going to 
 let me depart without any definite hope ? " 
 
 " The waiter is coming," I replied. When the 
 dishes had been set down Edward returned to 
 the subject. " Answer one question and I will 
 not ask another." 
 
 " That is what you said at the Fair, but for- 
 got it in a moment." 
 
 " If I did it was love that caused it. And love 
 may not only sanctify lying but even theft 
 murder." He leaned over and whispered: 
 
 " Will you marry me ? " 
 
 295
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " Hush, I'm sure every one in the restaurant 
 hears you." 
 
 " No one hears me not even you. But tell 
 me that you will and send me away happy. 
 Would you deny a morsel to a starving man? 
 Is it so hard to speak one word ? " 
 
 " I cannot tell you now. It is not because I 
 don't care for you I do; I see your eyes con- 
 stantly before me. I hear your words, and strains 
 of music, in the street, as I pass a house in 
 strains of music I hear your voice. I am frank 
 with you. I owe you the truth but that is all. 
 I will make you no promise; but when you re- 
 turn I will then tell you whether or not I can 
 marry you. You must not urge me. Remember 
 that I too may have my troubles. In the glorious 
 selfishness of love don't forget that other hearts 
 might ache. I have already told you more than 
 I have had cause to tell any other man. You 
 must not urge me." 
 
 ' You have told me much and I thank God 
 for it. I believe you, and yet I am constantly 
 haunted by the fear that you regard my char- 
 acter as weak. My love has so overpowered me 
 that I am weak. Incapable of showing to you 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 what I am, I must appear to you a helpless man, 
 struggling. I have reached that stage where 
 words fail me. Emotion has drowned them. But 
 you shall see me come out of this fever strong 
 and devoted. Still you will not speak that one 
 word." 
 
 " If you wrench it from me it were worth- 
 less." 
 
 " A phrase. You can remember them. I can't. 
 I know not how to turn off something with a 
 sentence remembered. I grope in the dark, ready 
 to bump against a post. You carry a light. My 
 lamp is smothered. But I shall urge you no 
 more. Your words precious words I shall 
 take with me. They are already engraven on 
 my heart. And when I return " 
 
 " I will tell you." 
 
 His love was stronger than his character, I 
 thought as I looked at him, listened to him; and 
 though at times words seemed to have forsaken 
 him, yet he was more eloquent than a poem of 
 strange and unexpected phrases. The warmth 
 of his blood appeared to have crisped his hair. 
 I fancied that if he should kiss me it would 
 burn. When he looked into my eyes, every sense 
 
 297
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 within me quickened. A warmer blood flowed 
 into my very toes. The ground was baking. It 
 was the cry of nature. 
 
 We parted as we had met, without demonstra- 
 tion. I went to the office heavy of heart. If I 
 had discovered a weakness in his character, that 
 weakness appealed to me. I resolved to marry 
 him. So that was settled. The battle was at an 
 end. But when I went home when I saw my 
 aunt, the fight was renewed. The sight of her 
 brought back all of the weakness permit me to 
 term it weakness of my education and training. 
 Edward had said : " But you shall see me come 
 out of this fever strong and devoted." Come out 
 of this fever fever. Then he must himself feel 
 that it could not last. I was in love with his 
 delirium and not with him. With my head al- 
 most bursting I went to my room. My aunt 
 came to me and urged me to tell her my trouble. 
 I told her that my head ached. 
 
 " Oh, but there is something else," she per- 
 sisted. " Haven't you seen that fellow that works 
 for Nevum ? " 
 
 " Yes, I have seen him. But what of that ? " 
 
 " A great deal of it, I'll tell you, my dear. I 
 
 298
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 was afraid those letters were from him. He has 
 asked you to marry him. Gypsy, don't try to 
 deceive me. You know I would do anything in 
 this world for you. You know that when you 
 are asleep I am thinking of your interest. So, 
 don't try to mislead me. What did you tell 
 him?" 
 
 " I did not tell him I would." 
 
 " Of course you didn't ; you are a sensible girl. 
 He's got a fever now but it will pass off. It al- 
 ways does." 
 
 Fever! How did she know? Were all of 
 them, she and my mother and the Peytons were 
 they wise and I the fool? 
 
 " You did not tell him you would. But have 
 you any intention of marrying him?" 
 
 " No, I haven't. I shall do as you and my 
 mother compel me." 
 
 She kissed me. 
 
 In the dead of the night I sat by the window. 
 In the moon, laced over with filmy clouds, I 
 sought to read my fate. The voice of the wind 
 moaned in mockery. I went to bed, dozed and 
 dreamed of rags and poverty. I saw a coffin 
 and I inquired as to who was enshrouded there- 
 
 299
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 in, and an old woman mumbled, " Love." I saw 
 a strong man, raving, and some one said: " His 
 fever is passing. Soon he will be cold." From 
 these horrors I awoke. The sun was shining. 
 At the window a belated bird was twittering. 
 
 At the breakfast table I read another letter 
 from my mother. Inclosed was a message from 
 Samuel, my stepfather. " There was a time when 
 I advised you to act as your heart dictated," said 
 he. " But the heart of the wise and experienced 
 is not always a sure guide. Then what shall we 
 expect from the heart of the young and inexperi- 
 enced? In the matter that now confronts you, 
 follow the voice of your mind. Perhaps your 
 mother is right. What can man hope for when 
 woman says that love does not endure ? " 
 
 My mother wrote the same as before. She 
 implored me not to break her heart. She said 
 nothing concerning the breaking of my own. 
 The letter contained a piece of news : " It is now 
 about a week since Pague was taken down with 
 pneumonia. For several days there has been no 
 marked change in his condition, but the doctor 
 says that his age is against his chances of re- 
 covery. Olive sits by him night and day. Some 
 
 300
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 times in his delirium he talks about Cousin 
 George. His mind seems to wander back to the 
 days of his youth. His remembered cousin has 
 no doubt been dead many a year. He has never 
 told Olive anything about him. Poor child, she 
 is overcome with grief. She declares he is the 
 best and tenderest man that ever lived. I know 
 that her married Ife has been happy. I wish to 
 impress this upon your mind." 
 
 At the office a letter from Edward was waiting 
 for me. I could see and feel that he was strug- 
 gling to restrain his impetuous pen. Occasion- 
 ally there was a reflection of common sense. 
 " All of my plans are centered upon you," he 
 said. " Within a short time I shall apply for the 
 privilege of beginning my starvation period at 
 the law. The practice is not what it used to be, 
 the epitome of statesmanship; but it continues 
 to offer advantages broader and deeper than 
 those of any other profession. My instructors 
 have complimented me upon my clearness and en- 
 thusiasm. These two elements are the corner 
 stones of success. Perhaps I might do better in 
 some new town, in the West. Think it over, 
 please. You see, I am taking it for granted that 
 
 301
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 you are to speak that one life-giving word. It 
 will not be a banishment to go into some new 
 community. They may banish pride and wealth, 
 but love unless torn asunder, cannot be ban- 
 ished." 
 
 I wrote to him with more of mind than of 
 heart. When such a condition exists, the soul 
 is in rebellion. 
 
 In the afternoon there came a note, by mes- 
 senger boy. It was from Bayless. He asked me 
 to go to the theatre with him that night. He 
 would call, with a carriage. I answered that I 
 should be pleased to accept his invitation. Of 
 course my aunt was delighted. " And in a car- 
 riage/' she said. I waited for her to say some- 
 thing about " affairs," but finding no place for 
 the word, she asked to see the note. " How 
 beautifully he writes," she went on. "My! It 
 looks like an engraving. There is no mistaking 
 his character, my dear. There isn't a kink in 
 it." 
 
 Among our boarders there were four women, 
 detestable creatures, for the most part prying, 
 snobbish; and when the carriage arrived they 
 were greatly excited. I knew that they were 
 
 302
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 peeping from every available corner. The first 
 sight of Bayless as he entered the door, elated 
 me. He looked like the picture of a grand duke 
 I remembered having seen away back, during my 
 royalty-worshipping childhood. He bowed, took 
 more of my hand than he had ever done before, 
 released it slowly, with a slieht nibble at the tips 
 of the fingers. I had dressed with every pos- 
 sible care, and in his eyes I saw the flame of 
 admiration. Love would have disturbed him too 
 much. A diamond gleamed at me. Into the 
 carriage he helped me with courtly grace, and 
 then got in, to shed a twilight of dignity. He 
 began to talk of the theater. He had seen all 
 of the great personages of the stage, at least those 
 of his own generation; and it seemed to me that 
 his criticisms were worthy of a place in dramatic 
 literature. He must have committed to memory 
 all of the " don'ts " that the rhetoricians print 
 in their books; and if one word were accented 
 more than another, it was when he avoided some 
 popular error of speech. Purist in manner, word 
 and dress, he put me to the strain of studied de- 
 meanor. But he said that he liked my natural- 
 ness, my frankness of opinion. Sometimes, for- 
 
 303
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 getting myself, I talked naturally. His laugh- 
 ter was as cool as the breeze that came through 
 the lowered window. 
 
 " I have something to tell you concerning my 
 friend, Nevum," said he. I was thinking of him, 
 of the difference between the two men. I evinced 
 no interest. I said, Yes ? 
 
 " He is going to marry a charming young 
 widow. He came to me yesterday and remarked 
 that the ambition of his life was about to be at- 
 tained. The only woman whom he had ever 
 loved had consented to be his wife. I had seen 
 her, with him, once at church had been pre- 
 sented to her, in fact; and I recalled not indeed 
 her features but her general manner lively, but 
 unnecessarily given to those what shall I term 
 them? To those little suddennesses that attract 
 attention ah, I might say, action in repose. I 
 thought that he was much taken with you." 
 
 I thought that with the last remark he had 
 permitted some little feeling to escape and to be 
 borne away upon his words. I admitted that 
 Nevum had manifested an interest in me. " Ah, 
 I thought so. In fact he told me, or at least 
 hinted that you had been offered the opportunity 
 
 304
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 to become Mrs. Nevum." Again he laughed, 
 and the breeze through the window was cooler. 
 " Ah, you did not care for him? " 
 
 "I couldn't." 
 
 " He did not interest you ? " 
 
 " He couldn't." 
 
 " Very succinctly expressed, I assure you. No, 
 he is not the man to inspire a refined woman. 
 He has the lawyer's shrewdness the half-true 
 philosophy of his profession, but his sentiment 
 is but a well-turned phrase. If, when it has 
 been uttered, and the sound of it pleases him, 
 he attempts to maintain it as a principle. But, 
 upon the other hand, if he does not like it him- 
 self, when it has been spoken as an experiment, 
 he laughs it off and searches among his old saws 
 for a brighter instrument. Do you remember a 
 young man who works for him Edward 
 Somers, I think ? Do you recall him ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes." And now my heart began to beat 
 wildly. " But I think he's gone away." 
 
 " Ah ? I had not heard so. During the harder 
 part of his struggles I gave him such work as 
 he could do, in my office. Finally, I recom- 
 mended him to Nevum. It is the desire of his 
 
 305
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 parents that he should become a lawyer; but I 
 regard it an error of fondness rather than a 
 foresight arising from judgment. In Italy he 
 might have become a painter ; in Paris, a dramat- 
 ist; in London a reform preacher; in Berlin a 
 composer; but in America " 
 
 "What?" I inquired. 
 
 " A failure," he replied. " Birds are hatched 
 out of season, and men are sometimes born out of 
 all time and out of all country. I once knew a 
 young fellow who was born in Spain, who lived 
 in France, Germany, Russia, and who finally had 
 no language, but a smattering of many. He 
 would have been happier and more useful as a 
 plowman in one land. Edward possesses a little 
 of nearly everything. His is an iridescent tem- 
 perament. He reminds me of a grand passion 
 that ends in a sob." 
 
 " Why have you so sentenced him ? " I in- 
 quired. 
 
 Was the breeze stronger or had he laughed 
 again ? 
 
 " Because Nevum told me that he was infatu- 
 ated with you." 
 
 I laughed. " And is it not something to have 
 
 306
 
 Merciful Unto Me. a Sinner 
 
 infatuated a painter in Italy, a dramatist in Paris, 
 a reform preacher in London and a composer in 
 Berlin?" 
 
 And now his laugh was real and not so cold. 
 " Oh, yes," he said, " I might term it a multi- 
 tudinous victor)^. But seriously ah, will you be 
 serious for a moment ? " 
 
 " Yes, as serious as the the label on a poison 
 bottle." 
 
 " A shuddering comparison, but it will serve/' 
 
 " I am listening." 
 
 " Ah, I hope I do not presume " 
 
 " You do not." 
 
 " Then you embolden me to say that as his 
 wife you would be miserable." 
 
 " And if not until then, perhaps I shall be 
 happy." 
 
 " By which you mean that " 
 
 " That I am not to be his wife." 
 
 " Ah, and so I told Nevum. Permit me again 
 without presumption to say that I congratulate 
 your good sense." 
 
 The spirit of my mother was with me. And 
 as I alighted from the carriage, I felt that I had 
 
 307
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 sprung out not upon the ground but upon Ed- 
 ward's heart. 
 
 The play did not interest me. It was a farce 
 comedy. But what was that one note in all this 
 ribaldry to claim a moment of my attention? It 
 was a mockery of love. A painted thing scoffed 
 at the human heart. But I laughed. 
 
 On the way home I was gay. Beneath my 
 feet was a heart. But it was not warm. It had 
 been frozen. 
 
 308
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 IN A BLACK SKY. 
 
 When the carriage drew up at my aunt's door, 
 I remembered that the conversation had been 
 trivial. I had laughed a great deal. I was still 
 laughing. Bayless seemed warmer. Or was it 
 I who was colder? He held my hand for a mo- 
 ment. I felt that he would draw me toward him. 
 " This is a night that I shall remember," he 
 said. 
 
 " And so shall I." 
 
 " You have caused me to forget unpleasant 
 things," he said. " And for this I thank you. 
 Good night." 
 
 My aunt was waiting for me. I threw off 
 my cloak with a laugh. She said that I must 
 be happy. I told her that I was. "What has 
 passed ? " she inquired. 
 
 " Time that is all." 
 
 " But didn't he " 
 
 " No, but he will. It is coming." 
 
 309
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " And you will accept ? " 
 
 ' Yes ! " I screamed and ran up the stairs. 
 
 She followed me. " I am going to write to 
 your mother tomorrow. Shall I tell her you are 
 happy ? " 
 
 ' Yes, so happy." 
 
 " But you don't talk like it." 
 
 " But haven't I said it? What more can you 
 ask? Tell her that her spirit is with me." 
 
 " Yes, my dear, I will. Don't you think the 
 room is cold? There's not enough steam on, is 
 there?" 
 
 " I thought it was an oven. I must have more 
 air." 
 
 " But don't raise that window. You'll take 
 your death of cold. Lower it just a little from 
 the top. Wait, I'll fix it." 
 
 The air was stifling. My aunt kissed me and 
 went out. The air was better. I looked at my- 
 self in the glass, standing half disrobed. " Hyp- 
 ocrite," I said. " You have no character. You 
 are a smile, glittered over with deceit. You are 
 going to sell yourself. The bidder is respectable, 
 but are you ? You once asked, ' What is virtue ? ' 
 I will tell you. It is something you do not pos- 
 
 310
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 sess. You have not fallen but you are preparing 
 to fall. A painter in Italy dramatist in Paris! 
 Ah, what would you have been in Babylon ? " 
 
 In the morning there came a letter from my 
 mother. Old Pague was dead. Why did she 
 hasten to write to me? His mind wandered to 
 the verge of death and he had babbled, not of 
 green fields, but of " Cousin George." And I had 
 been a party to this deception. Age was his 
 crime; affection his weakness trustfulness his 
 idiocy. Olive was heartbroken. Yes, I knew 
 that. Her appearance of sorrow was remorse. 
 " But I am following you," I said. " You were 
 weak enough to be driven and I am not strong 
 enough to resist. Over my head there is a silver 
 hammer. It will fall." 
 
 At the office there was Edward's letter. He 
 had been disturbed by dreams. So had I. But 
 he did not believe that they could be true. I did. 
 He had an ideal virtue. He might not live up 
 to it, but he worshiped it; and I was that ideal. 
 His fever, if such it was, might pass, but in his 
 mind he would hold me, the image of his devo- 
 tion. For himself he had constituted a religion.
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 For myself there was none. While professing 
 Christ I had turned from love. 
 
 At noontime I went to " our restaurant." At 
 " our " table I sat and mused. Coming out I said 
 to myself: "What is the use? Why should I 
 continue to fight when I have already acknowl- 
 edged defeat ? " 
 
 After this I felt stronger. It was because I 
 was weaker because I had completely surren- 
 dered. Two days passed. There came a letter 
 from Olive. Her husband had been buried. She 
 thought that a visit to me might help her. I did 
 not care to see her. I wrote at once, telling her 
 not to come that I should be away, on business. 
 How anxious she was to flee from his grave. 
 
 In the evening, I sat with my aunt in the 
 parlor. She asked me if Bayless had written. 
 I told her no, and she said that it was strange 
 that I had not heard from him. " But I warrant 
 you the other man that Edward has written. 
 Hasn't he?" 
 
 " Yes, there comes a letter from him every 
 day." 
 
 " But you must encourage him to write. Do 
 you answer his letters ? " 
 
 312
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " Not all of them." 
 
 ' What do you say when you write? " 
 
 " I don't tell him that I shall be his wife." 
 
 The door bell rang. Aunt hastened out. I 
 heard a voice. Bayless had come. " Gypsy is 
 in the parlor. Walk in." 
 
 He entered, hesitated, bowed ; and I gave him 
 my hand. He sat down near me. Silence. I 
 heard my aunt going up the stairs. She halted 
 as if to listen. He spoke of the weather. He 
 disliked a winter in Chicago. I heard my aunt, 
 going on up the stairs. His voice was a sym- 
 phony. I recognized its chords but its harmonies 
 could not be caught. Edward was a melody. I 
 could hum him. For a long time he talked on 
 downy subjects. A puff and they were gone. 
 " Today I couldn't work couldn't read," he 
 said. " Shall I tell you what kept me from work- 
 ing and reading? I was reviewing my life. It 
 was not marked by achievement. But it was not 
 a failure, as I viewed it. Except except that 
 I had not found a companion a ray of light to 
 illumine my soul." 
 
 It was coming. I looked down. His voice 
 grew softer.
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " Once I was engaged to marry." I looked up 
 and quickly he added : " For a short time. The 
 woman, older than myself, had not indeed 
 charmed me, but had attracted me with her social 
 graces and the literary finish of her conversation. 
 But I could get literature from books. I desired 
 something which the library could not furnish/' 
 
 Was there ever such a prelude to a proposal? 
 
 " I don't think that her heart was touched. 
 Suitability engages the heart in the best way. 
 Then surely she was not suitable. One night we 
 talked it over and I offered to emancipate her 
 and she accepted freedom with a readiness that 
 was not wholly a compliment." 
 
 He was smiling. 
 
 " Since then I have gone in society somewhat, 
 it is true, but I have formed no attachments. 
 That is, not until I met you. I hope I do not em- 
 barrass you." 
 
 " No, sir," I murmured. 
 
 " I thank you. I am a believer in the fitness of 
 things. I believe that happiness is not a passion 
 so much as it is an arrangement, an understand- 
 ing. They tell us of the dullness of married life, 
 of the lack of interest that follows the honey-
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 moon. It is nearly always because the proper 
 selection was not made, the correct arrangement 
 formulated. You are a woman of whom I could 
 be proud. I spoke to you once of your fitness to 
 adorn a home. I can supply that home, and I ask 
 that you may adorn it. I do not press you now 
 for an answer. It is something for you to con- 
 sider. But if you have had similar thoughts con- 
 cerning me and can answer me to-night, I shall 
 deem it a favor. This is a plan I have in view. 
 My reference to my dislike of a winter here was 
 not idle. I intend a trip to Europe, at the earliest 
 time within the province of convenience, and 
 thence to the Nile, where, as you must know, the 
 rigors of winter may be escaped." 
 
 There may have been such proposals. Out of 
 no experience can there arise a proper forecast 
 for the eccentric mind, the course it may pursue, 
 the odd turns it may take in either business or 
 marriage perhaps the same thing. Romance 
 has its customs, love its well-worn paths. But 
 what shall I say of this offer, the offer which 
 I had been taught to believe was one dictated by 
 common sense? I had thought that he might 
 betray some little emotion, that he might hint 
 
 315
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 at his love for me. But he did not. He sat 
 placidly waiting for my answer. He did not tell 
 me to take my time, to pronounce each syllable 
 correctly, but his manner seemed to advise it. 
 
 " Do you think that I am the woman to make 
 you happy ? " I inquired, looking earnestly at 
 him; and without a change of countenance he 
 answered : " I am quite sure of it. And it should 
 be my aim to render you happy. We have intel- 
 lectual tastes in common. We should be com- 
 panions, respecting each other's differences of 
 opinion. I should not attempt to subvert your 
 mind, the extinguishment of so many women. 
 As far as possible you should retain your own 
 individuality. Does this seem to meet with your 
 view? " 
 
 " Yes, but do you think that I am worthy of 
 such a confidence? " 
 
 " If I did not think so I should not have en- 
 tered into particulars." 
 
 " But," I persisted, "isn't there some danger 
 that I hardly know how to say it." 
 
 " Oh, have no hesitation." 
 
 " Well, then, you have no fear that you might, 
 316
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 in the future, meet some woman might fall in 
 love with some one? " 
 
 He smiled upon me. " I offer you everything. 
 There would be nothing left to bestow upon an- 
 other woman." 
 
 What an acknowledgment. Was he about to 
 make love to me? 
 
 Yes, he was. He took my hand and held it, but 
 that was all. " Am I to have your answer now 
 or must I wait? " he inquired, and his tones were 
 as soft as the cooing of a dove but as cool as 
 the flutter of a fish. I could not help admiring 
 him. He did everything, said everything, with 
 such grace. 
 
 " You shall have my answer now. I will be 
 your wife." 
 
 The word " wife " startled me. My face 
 burned. 
 
 As I remember it, he thanked me. He said 
 that he would send me the details of his European 
 tour. " Our marriage should not be deferred 
 more than three weeks," said he. " This is hasty, 
 I know, but steamships don't wait. Neither do 
 seasons. The winter will soon be upon us. It is 
 not a pleasant time to cross the sea, but that must 
 
 317
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 not stand in our way." He arose, looked at me, 
 into my eyes; he took my hand and touched it 
 with his lips. 
 
 My aunt was waiting for me. " Has " 
 
 " Yes," I said. 
 
 "Oh, and you are engaged?" 
 
 " Please leave me to myself." 
 
 " But, dear, won't you let me congratulate 
 you?" 
 
 " Not to-night. Please leave me." 
 
 She withdrew. I went to the window and 
 looked upward. There was no veiled moon in 
 which to search for my fate. I read it in a black 
 sky. 
 
 318
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 TO DEVELOP A TALENT. 
 
 It was a long night. The dawn hung like 
 a pall. I had thought that the fight would be 
 easier. Long ago I had decided that it was fin- 
 ished. But it was not my own virtue that must 
 needs be overcome. It was my love for Edward. 
 At last, however, I said to myself that this, too, 
 was dead. Now nothing remained except a de- 
 termination to do my duty. 
 
 When I went forth from the house everything 
 looked different. Upon the world I seemed to 
 turn a " mind of vast experience." Things in 
 the office appeared changed. The men were older, 
 the girls more careworn. Mr. Roland compli- 
 mented me upon my freshness. How uncon- 
 scious an irony! I thought to tell him of the 
 withdrawal of my services, but decided to wait 
 until I should receive the " letter of specification." 
 It was waiting for me when I returned home in 
 the evening. We were to be married three weeks
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 from that day. As it was his desire to avoid all 
 possible notice, the ceremony was to be performed 
 at home. My aunt stood near me as I read the 
 letter. I handed it to her and she gulped it with 
 her eyes. 
 
 " But how can I get ready in so short a time? " 
 I inquired of her. 
 
 It was some moments before she answered me. 
 To her the letter was delicious. " Now don't 
 begin to find fault," she replied. " Such haste 
 in a man is always a good sign. It is the way 
 he expresses his love. It means more than if 
 said in words. It means that your outfit will be 
 bought for you in Paris. All you now need are 
 a few traveling dresses. They can be got ready 
 without delay. Oh, what a fortunate girl ! " 
 
 How willing one woman is to help another 
 woman violate her own soul. " I will leave it all 
 in your hands," said I ; and in her gratitude she 
 kissed me. " It is not necessary that you should 
 work another day," she said. ' You have some 
 money coming to you. Go down to-morrow morn- 
 ing, and discharge yourself. Oh, by the way, 
 did Nevum ever settle up with you ? " 
 
 " No. I suppose he forgot it." 
 
 320
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " Forgot it the cat's foot. Go right out and 
 put the account into the hands of some bad debt 
 collector. No, don't do that. He was kind 
 enough to " 
 
 " Ask me to marry him," said I, expecting her 
 to smile, but she didn't. She took it in all seri- 
 ousness. ' Yes, that is quite true," she said. " I 
 suppose it did escape his mind. The reason I 
 spoke of money just at this time was because I 
 wondered if it wouldn't be the proper thing to 
 have your mother come. She could take back 
 glowing reports with her, you know. But then 
 I will write to her and tell her all about it." 
 
 This was a decision that my mother was not 
 to be present. And to speak the truth, I agreed 
 with it heartily. It was the only heartiness that 
 I had felt. I was willing enough to communicate 
 to her the fact that I had obeyed my teaching and 
 had sold myself, but I did not wish her to witness 
 the transfer. 
 
 Mr. Roland was much astonished when I told 
 him that I was to quit his office. He offered 
 to show me into the manager's room, as a bribe 
 against my determination to quit, and while ap- 
 preciating the honor, I was forced to decline it. 
 
 321
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 So I received what little money was coming to 
 me and went out free, I was going to say, but 
 out into the air of approaching slavery would be 
 nearer the truth. But what was this I carried in 
 my hand? A letter from Edward unopened, 
 dumbly reproaching me. I was determined not to 
 read it, and yet I knew that I would, on the car ; 
 and I did. He begged for more encouragement. 
 In my next letter I must tell him without reserva- 
 tion that I loved him. I could do that. I must tell 
 him, also, that I would marry him. Slowly I tore 
 the letter into bits. When I got off the car, I 
 sowed them in the wind. 
 
 Honor dictated a letter to Edward. I wrote it, 
 but could not send it. I felt that he would rush 
 home and create a scene. That something which 
 I had accepted as common sense suggested that 
 as a duty due to myself I should deceive him fur- 
 ther. I would tell him nothing about my ap- 
 proaching marriage. But silence would tell him 
 enough, and therefore I must keep up a pretense 
 of " fidelity." This was not easy, but it must 
 be done. So that night I wrote to him. My 
 letter was mainly a string of verses, quotations 
 that like silken threads ran through my memory. 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 My mother wrote her delight. There was just 
 a little whimper that she had not been urged to 
 attend the wedding. However, she was thank- 
 ful to know that I was happy. Nothing had been 
 said about happiness, but my aunt had 
 " stressed " the fact that Bayless was rich, and 
 this meant everything, including my happiness. 
 One evening aunt remarked that she didn't see 
 what had become of the time. I had seen ; it had 
 died and was still dying by inches. But when I 
 hinted as much, she rebuked me. " Why," said 
 she, " there's not a girl in this town that's as 
 happy as you ought to be. Just note with what 
 envy every one in this house looks on you. But 
 of course from your point of view no one in this 
 house amounts to anything now." 
 
 " Why now ? " I inquired. 
 
 " Oh, well, you know. Now let me see, are 
 there any friends you wish to ask to the wed- 
 ding?" 
 
 " I have no friends. I am a stranger here." 
 
 She sighed and compressed her lips. " Friends 
 here mean money here," she said. After a few 
 moments she inquired: "What has become of 
 
 3 2 3
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 that young man the one that came to see you? 
 That Edward. What has become of him ? " 
 
 " He will not be here." 
 
 " So much the better," she said. " He is just 
 about foolish enough to make trouble." 
 
 " I don't see how he could." 
 
 " Oh, he'd find a way. A man always does 
 when he thinks a woman loves him. Young men 
 are so presumptuous. Look at one of them and 
 he believes you are in love with him." The door 
 bell rang. " That must be Mr. Bayless," she 
 said, springing up in a flutter of excitement. It 
 was Bayless. I had half expected him and more 
 than half had hoped he would not come that night. 
 Somehow it was one of the nights when I thought 
 most of Edward. Why did I think of him more 
 at one time than at another? This was a ques- 
 tion which I asked of myself but which I could 
 not answer. 
 
 Soon Bayless and I were alone in the parlor. 
 My aunt no longer stood upon the stairs to listen. 
 All had been said all that she cared to know. 
 Victory belonged to her. As to myself it made 
 no difference. 
 
 Bayless complimented me upon my appear- 
 
 324
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 ance. He took it for granted that I was happy. 
 In striving to deceive myself, I deceived him. 
 He talked with such fervor of our purposed trip 
 abroad, of the many countries, the art, that a 
 glow threatened to drive the coolness from his 
 eyes. 
 
 "And when we return?" said I, looking into 
 his eyes. 
 
 " A home shall be in readiness for us. It is 
 then that we shall begin truly to live. I shall 
 pursue my work, and you may cultivate any tal- 
 ent you desire to make most prominent." 
 
 He said this with a smile. And it was with 
 truth that I answered him : :< I have no talent." 
 
 " You could take up music." 
 
 " Idleness accented," I replied. This pleased 
 him. " Or drawing," he added. 
 
 " Uselessness labeled," said I. 
 
 He laughed with real heartiness. He said that 
 my want of vanity was a positive delight. It was 
 this that had first drawn him toward me. Where 
 there was so little of the egotist there must be 
 great virtue. How little he knew of my nature. 
 I did not see him through a mist, but reflected 
 from a mirror of ice. Suddenly I felt that my 
 
 3 2 5
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 love for Edward was dead. Then arose a sense 
 of my conquest over this man it came, this 
 sense, like a dewy morning breath, and I was 
 thrilled. I saw the great capitals of Europe; 
 I saw the Nile; and springing up I ran to the 
 piano and plucked an old air, a rollicking tune 
 from the wild hillside where the black haw trees 
 were wont to bloom. When I looked up he was 
 standing beside me. 
 
 " Once more, witch," he said, leaning over and 
 touching my cheek with his own. " Make that 
 bare-foot boy dance again." 
 
 I saw myself on the hillside. He saw himself, 
 dancing ; and then I could see him, without shoes, 
 a gleeful boy, with his straw hat lying on the 
 ground. I could see the imprisoned grasshoppers 
 crawling from under the hat. 
 
 " Exquisite," he said, resuming his seat. 
 " And yet you say you have no talent for mu- 
 sic." 
 
 " It wasn't music, but a picture for both of 
 us." 
 
 " A picture, and still you have no talent for 
 drawing. Ha, it was a painting in tones." He 
 
 326
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 sat with one side of his face resting in the palm 
 of his hand. " Are you happy? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes," I answered, and at that moment I was. 
 Or was it an illumined desperation? I wonder 
 what I should have said had he asked me if I 
 loved him. 
 
 The clock in the hall began to strike. I did 
 not count the hour, but he remarked that he had 
 no idea that it was so late. " Ha," he remarked, 
 " you pin the wings of butterflies to the minutes 
 and over the hours you hoist a summer's sail." 
 
 This flattered me. A washerwoman is 
 charmed with a poetic idea if she inspires it. He 
 kissed me good night. I went up stairs with my 
 lips cool. If I had loved him for a moment it was 
 when as a boy he caught the grasshoppers. I sat 
 down to read poetry, " the melodious sigh of 
 the soul," but from it I drew no consolation. I 
 threw down the book. Consolation! I found it 
 in the victory over myself and in my conquest 
 over a man. 
 
 3 2 7
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 ROLLED AWAY. 
 
 To be bound with ribbons to one whom we 
 love ah, how we might muse over it, a sunrise 
 in the spring time of joy. But when the willing 
 law binds us with a chain grown rusty from the 
 tears that have dripped upon it ! Let us not muse. 
 Let us not draw out the hour, the words of the 
 preacher. The last word has been spoken and 
 the carriage rolls away. 
 
 In my mind there was no impressive feature 
 arising out of the ceremony of my self-sale. I 
 remembered that an old man with a trembling 
 voice pronounced the banishment from girlhood 
 into womanhood. I recalled that just before 
 going down stairs I had torn to bits an unread 
 letter. Ah, and I had written a few lines to tell 
 of my treachery. In all of my life there had been 
 but one sweet, emotional dream, and now it was 
 ended. The mother, the aunt money had tri- 
 umphed. There was to be no anxious look into 
 
 328
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 the pinched countenance of a hungry child. 
 Ragged poverty was not to rock the cradle. Obe- 
 dience, self-sacrifice, virtue for are we not sub- 
 lime only to the degree that we banish all thought 
 of self and retain the images of those more 
 worthy of consideration? About me had been 
 gathered pale and faded women, eager ghosts of 
 dead desires ; and in their sunken eyes the light of 
 envy shone. But the last word had been spoken 
 and the carriage had rolled away. Happiness may 
 tremble, but it was with the cold that I shivered. 
 Beside me he sat, with a smile cooler than the 
 air. Ah, beginning of wedding journey, thou 
 self-centered stupidity! Romance, wash your 
 thin rags and hang them on a vine to dry. 
 
 The train, the long shadows of the afternoon 
 flying with us, the distant trees, the life-sapped 
 leaves fluttering between me and the setting sun ! 
 Night, the rumble, the halt, the cry of " all right " 
 far off in the dark, and again the rumble. Day- 
 light the hills, like my old hills, brown, and with 
 echoes of the past seeming to lie in the valleys 
 between them sad and reproachful echoes the 
 past that should speak again only out of its 
 shroud. 
 
 329
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 Another city, but clear of smoke ; the ship, the 
 heaving bosom of the troubled ocean. And now 
 for days at a time it seemed that all of the sick- 
 ness of the entire world came upon me; and in 
 the merciful interim I went out upon the deck to 
 breathe the air. My husband was as sympathetic 
 as he could find it in his smooth and unemotional 
 nature to be, and mutely in my heart I was con- 
 stantly begging him to forgive me. To forgive 
 me for what? Was I not determined to be unto 
 him a faithful and " law-abiding " wife ? I had 
 often mused, far remote from the world's water, 
 that to gaze upon the ocean would be the mother 
 of most stirring emotion the past, the present 
 and the future tumbling before me. But some- 
 how I could not get my mind to grasp it. It was 
 like a landscape, a cloud, a mere matter of course 
 and not to be wondered at; I could not conjure 
 it into appearing strange. I wondered if it were 
 to be thus throughout the history-trod countries 
 I was destined to visit. The sudden change in 
 my spiritual life had seemed to change all ma- 
 terial things. The ship, that great wonder of all 
 ages, was of no interest to me. I strove to recall 
 romances of the sea, but they had faded from my 
 
 33
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 memory. Once when the sun was setting I found 
 an interest and a stimulus to talk. Muffled to 
 protect us from the sharp air, Bayless and I were 
 sitting on the deck. The ship kept on threaten- 
 ing to plunge head foremost down to the bottom 
 of the sea, but hesitated and shuddered. My 
 husband said hundreds of little things that did 
 not evoke an answer. Was it that already I had 
 begun to know what he was going to say ? Mere 
 cultivation, how tiresome! It is only the talk of 
 temperament that we enjoy. " I am reminded," 
 said I, gazing out upon our resplendent wake, 
 " of something I read years ago don't know 
 where I found it : ' Experience is like the light 
 at the stern of a ship. It illumines only the path 
 gone over. That is recollection. But the sun 
 illumines all paths. That is wisdom." 
 
 " A very good thought for a man," he said. 
 
 " Why for a man? " I inquired, looking at him, 
 for there was something in the tone of his voice 
 that smacked of mild censure. 
 
 " I mean for a man who has failed in life," he 
 replied. " But for a young woman it sounds too 
 seasoned." 
 
 " I like to be called seasoned. At first I was
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 afraid that you might think me frivolous. But 
 if I do show seasoning it must be because I had 
 been taught to be not exactly silly, but light. 
 And the seasoned thought was a sort of rebel- 
 lion." 
 
 " Ah, and have you always been rebellious ? " 
 
 " Not actively ; but the sweetest rebellion is 
 sometimes passive." 
 
 " And was it rebellion that drove you to read 
 rebellious books ? " 
 
 " Oh, I don't know that my books were re- 
 bellious. Yes, they were, in a manner ; they were 
 written for men. Books written especially for 
 women are not worth reading. There's not a 
 thought in a hundred pages. Women writing 
 for women must give advice, and men, writing 
 for women, feel that they must be silly." 
 
 It was some time before he said anything, and 
 I thought that he had suffered the subject to 
 drop, but after a while he remarked : " I am one 
 free to say that I don't think the so-called wise 
 book good for woman. It ' undomesticates ' her, 
 so to speak. It leads to dissatisfaction unques- 
 tionably. I never saw a learned woman who 
 
 332
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 wasn't dissatisfied, not only with herself but with 
 her husband, if she had one." 
 
 " But," said I, " she must have been a com- 
 panion to her husband, if she had one, and if he 
 were inclined to think." 
 
 " But it is almost impossible for two trained 
 minds, of the opposite sex, to think agreeably 
 along the same channel." 
 
 " Yes, possibly, if they chance to be married 
 to each other," I offered as a suggestion. 
 
 " Well, yes," he said, without hesitation. 
 " There must in all government and in all busi- 
 ness relationships be one dominant spirit, one 
 master mind. If the man acknowledges the su- 
 premacy of the woman and accepts it as final, he 
 may be contented to be known as her husband. 
 But from the moment he acknowledges this, he 
 begins to decline intellectually." 
 
 " Then you don't acknowledge complete or 
 rather equal companionship, do you?" 
 
 " Oh, yes after there has been established a 
 complete understanding. A man, if he be reason- 
 ably intelligent and mature, ought to know what 
 is good for his wife. He is her protector, and 
 well, her guide." 
 
 333
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " Ah, after she has acknowledged his superior- 
 ity/' said I. 
 
 " Well, at least when she has observed his ma- 
 turity." 
 
 This was the beginning. He had married me 
 because he fancied that I was possessed of a 
 mind, but to himself he reserved the right to 
 guide it. He had not spoken thus on the occasion 
 of our buggy ride, the time when he had said 
 that I was so fitted to adorn a home. But per- 
 haps homes were not adorned with minds. Some- 
 where I read that the mind of a drunkard's 
 daughter is likely to be dangerously explorative. 
 This was a timely thought. I was stimulated to 
 rebel against it, to subvert myself, if need be, 
 to my husband's notions. And I did try hard. 
 But he was always so nearly perfect and I was 
 always so far from it. He went so far as to 
 tell me what I ought to eat. He was not only 
 making of me a companion but a part of himself 
 the part to be advised and corrected. And he 
 did it with such " unrtrffledness." He was so 
 smooth, so exact. Once when going down the 
 steps he stumbled slightly, and I asked him if he 
 were sure that he had done it in the correct man- 
 
 334
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 ner, and he said nothing but he reproached me 
 with his cool eyes. Pain is not more the enemy 
 of happiness than dignity is of love. 
 
 In Westminster Abbey he cautioned me not to 
 betray my wonder. In Paris, where I purchased 
 dresses and hats that would have excited the 
 envy of Olive, he threw a cool repression over 
 my rising spirit, there in that hilarious sunshine. 
 In Germany we drank beer, and he told me when 
 I had enough. In Italy I marveled too much. 
 These little things comprised my European trip. 
 I hated the countries through which we leisurely 
 took our way, and yet America home, could 
 offer nothing as an improvement. Not once did 
 he show any temper. He was always cool and 
 dignified. 
 
 We went up the Nile, but I did not see antiquity 
 lying asleep, dreaming along the shores; I was 
 listening to be told what I ought not to do. He 
 reproached me for my lack of interest. He said 
 that I would rather read of such things than to 
 see them. That was true. I could read alone. 
 
 After " doing " the traveler's world, we re- 
 turned to Rome. Here Bayless settled down to 
 the study of his profession. Hot weather came 
 
 335
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 but it did not ruffle him. Unto himself he must 
 have been a coolness. I could not read Italian, 
 but in our hotel there was a large number of old 
 English books, and with them I spent my even- 
 ings and many of my mornings and noons. It 
 was a musty, but, I must confess, the only de- 
 licious part of my " travels." My letters to my 
 mother were invariably cheerful. But sometimes 
 it was hard to keep a " mood " from stealing into 
 them. One day I received a notable letter from 
 Olive. " You may not be surprised when I tell 
 you that I am no longer the Widow Pague," she 
 said. " Just one week ago to-day Charley and I 
 were married. This makes all records clean, 
 doesn't it? I think that my mother wanted me 
 to look around for another old gentleman, but 
 as I was the mistress of an estate, she did not 
 presume to argue with me. I know you must 
 be happy, away over there in that artistic past. 
 Some day Charley and I are going over the same 
 ground. We have both joined the church, and 
 you have no idea how Charley has sobered down. 
 How I glory in his love for me. I am too happy 
 to write." 
 
 A few days later there came a letter from
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 Chicago. I was expecting one from my aunt. 
 This one was from a woman who boarded there 
 and who had been one of the ghosts at my wed- 
 ding. It bore a piece of sad news. My poor 
 aunt had died of pneumonia.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 EXPLORING HIS MIND. 
 
 Mr. Bayless took a " sensible " view of my 
 grief. He said that as I had not been long at 
 my aunt's house my sorrow was not such as must 
 have resulted from the death of a " long stand- 
 ing associate." Those were his words. What 
 he said was in a measure the truth and there- 
 fore I regarded him as the more cold-blooded to 
 remark it. In all things and upon all occasions 
 he was so philosophical that I was once prompted 
 to ask him if he were not of Scotch lineage, and 
 he answered that his parents were not only born 
 and brought up in Scotland but had been mar- 
 ried in that meditative and self-contained coun- 
 try. In comparison with Rome, moss-grown 
 with time, ivied over with history sentiment 
 eternal; in comparison with Rome, Chicago is 
 but a wild and clamoring adventure, and yet I 
 longed to breathe again its sharp, inspiring air. 
 I was weary of art. I longed again to look into 
 
 338
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 the eyes of the untutored soul. I was nauseated 
 with the past. But so determined was I to mould 
 myself to my husband that I expressed no wish. 
 My chief aim was to explore his mind and to 
 anticipate his whims. But he was like the future. 
 I could not fathom him. He had no whims, no 
 impulses. He was a smooth, an even and a tire- 
 some road, unexpected at times only because I 
 could not see how he was to become smoother. 
 But he did. If he were not imperious enough 
 to tell me what I ought to do, he was so " just " 
 as to speak of what I should not have done. At 
 the hotel table an American traveler related a 
 humorous incident, so flavored with the fun of 
 my own country that I laughed louder than the 
 waiter might have thought proper; and my hus- 
 band looked at me with rebuke in his eye. That 
 night when we were alone I said to him : 
 
 " I wish you would draw up a set of rules for 
 
 me." 
 
 He looked up from his great black book of 
 drawings, towers and cupolas, and fixed his critic 
 eye upon me : " Rules ? " 
 
 " Yes, so that I may know how to act. I am 
 a barbarian in Rome." 
 
 339
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " I should think that your own good sense 
 might teach you." 
 
 " But it doesn't it won't. I don't think I 
 have any good sense." 
 
 " You knew how to act when you were helping 
 Nevum to collect bad debts." . 
 
 " Probably it was because there wasn't any- 
 thing in a bad debt to laugh about." 
 
 " Gypsy, you remind me of an expression the 
 English critics used a number of years ago or 
 rather an expression applied to certain critics. 
 They were called ' smart slaters/ because they 
 were always eager to sacrifice truth and art to 
 the opportunity of saying something they con- 
 ceived to be smart." 
 
 " And I am a smart slater." 
 
 " Yes, that is what you are." 
 
 " Well, it requires some sense, at least. You 
 are promoting me." 
 
 " Now, please don't be silly." 
 
 " Mr. Bayless, there is something that I should 
 like for you to tell me." 
 
 " Well," he said. 
 
 " I want you to tell me in what way I have 
 disappointed you. If I am so wrong now, how 
 
 340
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 could I ever have had the appearance of being 
 right? How could I have so deceived a man of 
 your discernment? In what way, now, have I 
 fallen so short of your expectations ? " 
 
 He looked down at his book, turned a few 
 leaves and then looked again at me. " Do you 
 wish to know the truth ? " 
 
 " I am asking you for the truth." 
 " It is because you do not love me." 
 " Love you ? You didn't ask me if I loved you. 
 You must have taken that for granted." 
 
 " And why shouldn't I take it for granted when 
 you consented to be my wife? " 
 
 " You are standing on the mountain top of 
 morality and therefore I cannot argue with you. 
 The fact that you fancy yourself cheated places 
 me wholly in the wrong, and I shall not say that 
 I was right. But I thought that I could learn 
 to love you and I have been trying am still try- 
 ing. And if you help me, I shall succeed I think. 
 It is my ambition to be your companion." 
 
 " You have tried to love me. Then I have 
 married an experiment." 
 
 " I thought all marriages were experiments." 
 " Oh, did you ? But an honest word might 
 
 341
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 have set aside our experiment. I am beyond the 
 experimental age." 
 
 " Then you are beyond the age when you 
 should have married." 
 
 :< What, reproaching me with my age, are 
 you?" 
 
 " No, I don't mean to do that. Let us not 
 dispute. Draw up a list of my faults and I'll 
 promise to study " 
 
 " That is foolish," he broke in. 
 
 *' But we can't go on in this way. We are 
 drifting apart." 
 
 He arose and walked up and down the room. 
 " Drifting apart," he repeated. " Have we really 
 ever been together ? You have always been occu- 
 pied in your own way. You take no interest in 
 my work. You read things that I care nothing 
 for, and an antagonistic book is the wedge that 
 splits a household asunder." 
 
 " But you don't expect me to read books on 
 architecture, do you? " 
 
 " Oh, no, I don't expect anything." 
 
 " Mr. Bayless, the truth is that you are disap- 
 pointed in me and you cannot hide it. Therefore, 
 everything I do is wrong. I did not expect to 
 
 342
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 place myself at once upon a plain with you. I 
 knew that it would require time, but I had hoped 
 that time would be granted. You seemed to 
 be considerate and I thought you would be pa- 
 tient. But as I said before, let us not dispute. 
 I give myself into your hands. You shall be my 
 teacher. Perhaps when we go home, I may 
 appear better. Here I am too new, too raw for 
 my surroundings. Help me." 
 
 No human being could have been more sincere. 
 No heart could have been more earnest in its en- 
 deavor to please. In my mind there arose no 
 thought in rebellion against my husband. 
 
 In the Vatican there was a picture of a young 
 priest it bore a resemblance to Edward; and 
 when I saw it I hastened away, and no more did 
 I go into that room. For a long time I had 
 dreamed about Edward, but even from the visions 
 that came with sleep I banished him. I was deter- 
 mined to be true not only consciously but uncon- 
 sciously as well. 
 
 One morning Mr. Bayless said that within a 
 few days we were to sail for home. The word 
 home leaped into my heart it died there and 
 I must have grown pale, for he said : " Hasn't 
 
 343
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 any terror for you, has it. I thought you wante'd 
 to return to America." 
 
 " I do." 
 
 "Then why that look?" 
 
 " I wasn't conscious of any look. Please don't 
 torture me." 
 
 ' Torture you ? You tell me you want advice 
 and when I talk to you, you complain that I tor- 
 ture you." 
 
 And thus it was day after day. But some- 
 times, though the occasions were rare, he would 
 drop back into his " pre-married " graces, his 
 poses, his faultlessness of demeanor; and it was 
 then that he would talk entertainingly, almost as 
 he had talked when he took me out driving, when 
 he said that I had come with verses in my eyes. 
 Ah, how long ago that seemed now! Then our 
 differences in tastes were amusing, but now they 
 bore the promise of a coming tragedy. One 
 night I asked him to go with me to the opera. 
 He answered that he desired to study. I said 
 nothing, but finding a book, a sweet old thing, 
 "A Sentimental Journey," I was soon lost in 
 the winding ways of its Gothic labyrinths, when 
 Bavless looked up from his black book of draw- 
 
 344
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 ings and said : " Gypsy; the Sphinx is chatty 
 compared with you. What are you reading?" 
 
 I told him. 
 
 " What, that vulgar slush ? " 
 
 " Vulgar ? Why, I find in it a thousand del- 
 icate beauties. Nowhere is there such an at- 
 mosphere. It reminds me of a silk handkerchief 
 full of ripe plums." 
 
 " What would you do if I didn't offer you an 
 opportunity to whet yourself sharp? Silk hand- 
 kerchief ripe plums." 
 
 " There was a time when you would have 
 called it a pretty fancy. So it is you and not I 
 who have changed." 
 
 " Changed ! Do you think a sensible man 
 wants that sort of stuff constantly dinged into 
 his ears? I can stand a good deal of it have 
 stood a great deal, but there is a limit to endur- 
 ance." 
 
 " Well, tell me what you want me to say and 
 I will say it." 
 
 ' There you go again. Is it possible that you 
 have no respect for me at all ? By the way, there 
 was something I intended to speak to you about. 
 
 345
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 You are developing too much of a fondness for 
 wine." 
 
 " I will leave it off entirely." 
 
 " Now, I didn't mean that. You misconstrue 
 everything I say." 
 
 " Are you done with me ? May I return to 
 this book?" 
 
 " Oh, by all means. Ah, whom do you prefer, 
 Sterne or Rabealis?" 
 
 " I have never made the acquaintance of Rab- 
 ealis." 
 
 " Is it possible ! I thought you loved all the 
 children of Boccaccio." 
 
 " I have never read him, either." 
 
 " You astonish me." 
 
 " If you will tell me what to read, I will read 
 it." 
 
 " Oh, out of a determination to be respectable, 
 eh? When we are good by determination, we 
 are like the drunkard, sober between sprees. But 
 I don't suppose you can help it if your tastes are 
 low." 
 
 " Mr. Bayless, this book is a classic. It is as 
 much a part of English literature as Shakespeare 
 himself. It was not intended for children, per- 
 
 346
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 haps, and neither was the Bible. And I wish 
 to tell you that my tastes are as pure as yours, 
 even if your parents were Scotch. Before you 
 reply, let me say that I couldn't have believed it 
 possible that I could endure so much. I used 
 to think that your coolness was mere respectabil- 
 ity; now I know that it was a lack of soul. You 
 have no heart and I shall no longer try to love 
 you." 
 
 " Indeed ! Now that is a blow in a most vital 
 spot. You will no longer try to love me. Have 
 I importuned you to try? I discovered very 
 early that so far as I was concerned you were 
 simply passive. When you thought that I was 
 not taking note, you sighed out your spirit, and 
 turning to me, you were lifeless. Whenever you 
 have evinced any life at all, it has been to say 
 something to grate upon me. Oh, you are quite 
 martyr-like when you fold your hands and de- 
 clare that you will do as I like. But why haven't 
 you discovered what I like? It was your duty 
 to do so. Don't tell me that you have tried to 
 be my companion. You have not. You are 
 companion only to your own inimical thoughts." 
 Yes, it was thus that the days and nights wore 
 
 347
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 along. I hated the sunrise, the sunset the 
 moon and the stars. My married life had 
 merged everything into one endless distaste. I 
 did not try to justify myself. About me there 
 was something wrong, but I was constantly 
 seeking for it, to eradicate it. 
 
 At last we were ready to sail for America. I 
 did not dare think of going home. That word 
 had been blotted out. Europe had been a night- 
 mare. Now what was America to be ? 
 
 348
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 LOOKED AT HIS WATCH. 
 
 We arrived in Chicago near the latter end of 
 May, having been abroad nearly two years. Our 
 house had been made ready, a beautiful place in 
 Prairie Avenue. For a moment I was almost 
 happy. Was it to be a home? How well ap- 
 pointed was everything, my room; but above all, 
 the library, with many an old book. At the ap- 
 pointed time the friends of my husband gath- 
 ered about us, in our house, to bid us welcome 
 home. Never in my life did I exert myself more 
 to please ; never did I strive to make my hus- 
 band believe that I was happy. But when the 
 guests were gone and the lights were turned low, 
 he reproached me for the effort I had made. He 
 said that it had been too obvious. It had been 
 a strain. I admitted it to him, and, in relaxa- 
 tion, being too wearied to defend myself, I 
 sought the solitude, ah, the grateful solitude of 
 my own room. I thought of my poor aunt. 
 
 349
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 That day I had stood by her grave. I had gone 
 to the place where she had lived and worried, 
 and had asked the strangers there to let me sit 
 for a moment in the room, my room, where I had 
 mused at the window, where I had gazed up- 
 ward into the black clouds. 
 
 The coming and the going of the days brought 
 no vital change. Some man, a friend, said that 
 he thought Mr. Bayless was losing his health. 
 I reproached myself with being the cause, and 
 when we went to church on the following Sun- 
 day I prayed fervently for a settlement of all of 
 our differences. That night as my husband and 
 I sat in the library I told him that I loved him. 
 It was not the truth, but I told him because I 
 thought it my duty. He looked at me and 
 yawned. 
 
 " What did you say? " he inquired. 
 
 How hard it was to repeat the word. But I 
 did. " Oh," he said, and looked at his watch. 
 
 Sometimes we would sit for hours without ut- 
 tering a word. But when company came he 
 would brighten, talk about our travels and re- 
 mind me of the places we had visited together. 
 How they were fading from my mind, those 
 
 350
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 travels. It was all like a dream, curtained about 
 with a mist. 
 
 It must have been about two months after our 
 return that he was commissioned to draw the 
 plans for a public building in Minneapolis. And 
 it was necessary that he should spend much of his 
 time in that city, he said. When I asked him 
 if it would be of any advantage for me to go 
 with him, he smiled. 
 
 "What good could you do?" he inquired. 
 
 " But I could be with you." 
 
 " I said what good." 
 
 " Yes, I understood you. I didn't know but 
 you might need a typewriter." 
 
 " Do you think I want to take you there in 
 that capacity? I have some little pride left for 
 myself, at least. Miss Cretchmar will go with 
 me." 
 
 "Who is she?" 
 
 " My stenographer." 
 
 " How long has she been with you ? " 
 
 " Oh, it isn't possible that you could be jeal- 
 ous, is it?" 
 
 " No, I'm not jealous. But you never spoke 
 about her."
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " I don't talk about business at home." 
 
 " I should like to see her." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because you haven't spoken of her." 
 
 " Oh, a very good reason." 
 
 I was glad when he left. Now the house was 
 all mine. In it I ran riot. The servants seemed 
 to be amazed at me. One night I made candy 
 as we used to do in the country, and gleefully I 
 pulled it with the house maid. Everything 
 seemed happy because Bayless was away; and 
 the next morning a bird with a new song came 
 to my window. My husband was gone nearly a 
 week before he wrote to me. His letter was as 
 short and as cold as his smile. Another week 
 passed and he suddenly appeared, at breakfast; 
 and with him came a cold cloud. But I pretend- 
 ed that I was glad to see him. I plied him with 
 questions, to prove my interest, and when he re- 
 mained silent, which he did for the most part, I 
 continued with my questions. 
 
 " Are your affairs progressing well ?" I in- 
 quired. 
 
 " Yes, very well." 
 
 " Is it to be a very large building? " 
 
 352
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " Yes. How have you been spending your 
 time?" 
 
 " Reading, mostly; and to please you I took 
 down a book full of towers and cornices and 
 made a study of the drawings." 
 " How could that please me? " 
 " I don't know, but I thought it might." 
 Then there fell a silence, and through it a 
 cool breeze seemed to be blowing. The follow- 
 ing day was Sunday, and I asked him if he would 
 like to attend church. " Please come on," I 
 urged him. " The day is beautiful." 
 
 No matter how anxious he might have been 
 to go, my willingness seemed to lame his step 
 with a halt. Then occurred the idea that it was 
 his desire to get rid of me, and this thought 
 worried me, in the night when he was asleep. 
 On this particular Sunday he contributed liber- 
 ally to the church, was cheerful with everyone 
 whom he met, but the moment he had entered his 
 own door a silence fell upon him. In the even- 
 ing, however, when a friend dropped in, his spir- 
 it arose and he laughed. I looked at him in sur- 
 prise. I had almost forgotten that there was 
 
 353
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 any mirth left in his nature. When the visitor 
 was gone, I said: 
 
 " Every one else brings you pleasure. I alone 
 turn down the lamp of your countenance." 
 
 " How long did it take you to think of that 
 sharp thing? " he asked, wearily seating himself 
 in his big leather chair. 
 
 " It was not a sharp thing; it was simply a 
 truth," said I, standing near, looking down upon 
 him. He turned his eyes upward and they 
 seemed all white, ghastly ; and without speaking 
 a word he looked down, his hands listless on the 
 arms of the chair. 
 
 " Mr. Bayless, will you please answer one 
 question and answer it honestly? " 
 
 " An honest question shall be honestly an- 
 swered," he replied. " What is the question if 
 it is honest ? " 
 
 " Oh, it is honest. You can't help but recog- 
 nize that. It is this: Wouldn't you be hap- 
 pier without me? " 
 
 He looked up at me, his eyes all white, and 
 looked down again. 
 
 "Wouldn't you?" 
 
 "Now what's the use of talking that way? 
 
 354
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 Must a man be reproached for his temperament ? 
 Don't you suppose I am human being enough to 
 have my moods? And if I have, am I to blame 
 for them?" 
 
 " No, you aren't to blame for having moods, 
 perhaps, but aren't you to blame for making only 
 a half secret of the fact that / am to blame? " 
 
 " Who said you were to blame? " 
 
 " You didn't, but wouldn't you be more hon- 
 est with me if you were to say so? " 
 
 " Ah," he spoke up, " and don't you believe 
 that a little honesty as you go along would be 
 good for you ? " 
 
 " I am quite sure of it, and I shall begin by 
 telling you something. I was almost happy 
 while you were away." 
 
 "Almost! Why not completely?" 
 
 " Because I expected you to return." 
 
 I ought not to have said this. I regretted it 
 a moment afterward. I begged his pardon. I 
 told him that it was not true, but he knew that 
 it was. " Oh, don't take it back," he said. 
 
 I started toward the door, hoping that he 
 would call me back, but he did not. I waited, 
 looking around, but he did not turn his eyes to- 
 
 355
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 ward me. Then I hastened back to him, at- 
 tempted to sit on the arm of the chair, but Tie 
 motioned me off. 
 
 " Please let me have a moment's peace 
 alone," he said; and I left him sitting there. 
 
 356
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 DOWN TO THE CITY. 
 
 My letters to my mother were " happy." But 
 whenever she spoke of coming to visit me, I al- 
 ways put her off. This was hard to do, of course 
 I mean hard upon me; but Bayless had de- 
 clared that she must not come. How the months 
 passed it would be impossible for me to recall. 
 I have retrospective visions of sullen breakfasts 
 and gloomy dinners and of long nights alone in 
 the library, reading, wondering how it was to 
 end. As the winter months came on I was taken 
 with neuralgia. The family physician gave me a 
 powder that eased the pain. It was morphine. 
 Soon, or I might say at once, I discovered that 
 it not only relieved the suffering but quieted 
 me mentally, rendering my unhappy condition 
 a matter of dreamy indifference. In many ways, 
 however, all my faculties seemed to be quickened. 
 My mind became strangely active; my memory 
 was strengthened. Books that I had read years 
 
 357
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 ago came back to me. I could almost see the 
 printed page. But when the influence of the 
 drug passed off, all of my former wretchedness 
 returned, intensified. I knew that to become a 
 slave to morphine meant a living death; I had 
 read and heard enough to convince me that it 
 meant degradation in every way, morally, phys- 
 ically, mentally; and at times I fought against 
 it, yielding only when the world and especially 
 my own household atmosphere grew black before 
 my eyes and in my soul, the mirror of life. Bay- 
 less did not suspect; he did not see the chains 
 that were forging. The winter passed listlessly 
 away, and I could not see or feel that the habit 
 was growing. Sometimes I asserted my free- 
 dom from it, felt strong again in my determina- 
 tion to make something of my life. But the 
 shadow was over me. My married life was a 
 failure beyond hope. 
 
 For the most part Mr. Bayless was engaged 
 in drawing the plans of buildings outside of Chi- 
 cago. The newspapers had spoken of his studies 
 in Rome. In the smaller cities this was of im- 
 portant weight. It was as if one had gone 
 thither to study sculpture or fiddling. 
 
 358
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 One morning I heard my husband giving in- 
 structions as to the packing of his trunk. I 
 asked him if he were going away. 
 
 " Yes, to Duluth," he answered. 
 
 " Are you going to be gone long? " 
 
 " Oh, I suppose that part of it does interest 
 you." 
 
 " Mr. Bayless," I said, standing before him as 
 he sat in his leather chair, " don't leave me with 
 bitter words to taste in your absence. Let us 
 think of each other as kindly as we can. If we 
 have made a mistake in our marriage, let us rec- 
 ognize it and make the best of it. You have 
 talked about philosophy. Let us apply it. The 
 serenest heart is often the one that has been 
 broken and mended. Let us begin now to mend 
 ours." 
 
 I fancied that this was an appeal not easy to 
 resist. In the mood then upon me I felt the force 
 of a calm resignation and I am sure that it must 
 have shown in my countenance, but if so, it was 
 met with resentment. 
 
 " A mistake is all the more accentuated when 
 we make a virtue of it," he replied, looking at 
 
 359
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 me with his olden smile, now grown colder with 
 the years. 
 
 " Ah," said I, " but a mistake may be turned 
 into a virtue." 
 
 " No homilies, please." 
 
 " But am I to say nothing? Am I always to 
 be silent?" 
 
 With an impatient hand he motioned my dis- 
 missal, but I would not go. " Are you so fond 
 of quarreling ? " he asked ; and now his smile 
 was freezing. 
 
 " It is hopeless," I muttered. 
 
 He nodded. " It looks that way, doesn't it? " 
 
 " Yes, for you will have it that way. And 
 now would you mind telling me if that Crutch- 
 mar woman is going with you ? " 
 
 " Why should you ask? I don't see why you 
 should care," he replied, slowly moving his feet 
 on the floor. 
 
 " You have made it impossible for me to care 
 very much, it is true. But I still reserve the 
 privilege of the wife. I inquire." 
 
 " Oh, yes ; and the question arises out of the 
 privilege and not out of concern. By the way, 
 
 360
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 I think I have recognized one of your contribu- 
 tions to literature. Here it is." 
 
 From his desk he took out an afternoon news- 
 paper and pointed to a screed entitled " Why 
 Marriage Is a Failure." 
 
 " You wrote that," he said. 
 
 " I did not." 
 
 "Read it before. you answer." 
 
 ; ' What is the use since I know that I didn't 
 write it? I know that it is not so strong as I 
 could make it." 
 
 He dropped the paper on the floor. I heard 
 it scraping on the carpet as he wiped his feet 
 upon it. 
 
 " Just as plain as if you had signed your full 
 name to it," he said. 
 
 " There are other women, Mr. Bayless ; and 
 perhaps it is a matter of selfish consolation to 
 know that I am not the only one whose heart has 
 been broken." 
 
 " What, your heart broken ! " He laughed. 
 " A woman marries for well, opportunity. It 
 is given to her. She sighs over it, pities herself 
 in what she considers a poetic way, and then says 
 that her heart is broken. How could I break that 
 
 361
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 which you have never given into my keeping 
 something you have kept hidden from me? If 
 you have had a heart you buried it in an iceberg 
 before you married me." 
 
 " I offered it to you and you spurned it. But 
 perhaps you didn't find it to your notion. It may 
 not have seemed so sympathetic as the heart of 
 a Cretchmar, for instance." 
 
 " I forbid you to speak that woman's name in 
 my presence." 
 
 " Is it so sacred? " 
 
 " Compared with some that I know it is holy." 
 
 Without bidding him good-by I left him there. 
 I heard them taking out his trunk heard him 
 drive away; and a sense of freedom came down 
 from heaven. 
 
 In the afternoon I went over into Jackson 
 Park. In places how desolate it was, the ruin of 
 a world's gaiety. Workmen were pulling down 
 the iron skeletons. Nearly all of these bare 
 giants had been removed. Those that remained 
 were grimmer in their loneliness. Their lives 
 had gone out in fire martyrs at the stake of 
 demolishing progress. The day was warm and 
 breathful of perfume, the redolence of early 
 
 362
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 wild-flowers growing amid crumbling concrete. 
 The birds that had flown to the south on that 
 autumn day, which now seemed so long ago, had 
 all of them come back to sing in joyousness. 
 
 For a long time I wandered about, looking for 
 fading spots of history my history; but few 
 were there to be found, for the pickax and the 
 shovel had been active. But there was one, the 
 umbrella-shaped tree on the wooded island; and 
 here, on the same bench I sat down to muse. It 
 was not difficult to fancy myself free again, to 
 imagine that I had just come from my aunt's 
 house. In the soft air I heard the music strains 
 of the many nations, echoes of a world's holiday. 
 Some one turned aside from the path, halted, 
 gazed at me Edward. It was the past come 
 back again and it made me dumb ; and I sat there 
 as in a trance, unable to move. I heard a sigh, 
 and I knew that he was sitting beside me. The 
 present rushed upon me, smothering the sweet 
 thrill of the past. 
 
 " Gypsy Mrs. Bayless." 
 
 He took my hand. Slowly I withdrew it, but 
 I did not arise. The present had not completely 
 returned. 
 
 363
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " I didn't expect to meet you here," I said, 
 almost breathlessly. 
 
 " I come here often," he replied. " In the 
 summer I rest here. This seat is my vacation. 
 Alone? No, a spirit is always here with me, and 
 that spirit is here now embodied." 
 
 I looked into his eyes. There was that same 
 out-pour of something into my own. Again he 
 took my hand and I did not withdraw it, for his 
 words were so sweet, the first I had heard in 
 years so sweet that I could not resist him. 
 
 " It has been a long time," he said, speaking 
 low. 
 
 " Yes, a very long time," I replied, my hand in 
 his. We sat in silence. On the grass the robins 
 were playing. Not one among them had sold 
 her heart. 
 
 He began to speak, and before I comprehend- 
 ed his words, so low were they, it seemed that I 
 was listening to soft music, a hymn ; and I could 
 scent the flowers heaped upon the coffin of a dead 
 hope. I listened without interrupting him and 
 after a time his words pierced in upon me. 
 
 " It was a long time before I came back here," 
 
 364
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 he said, holding my hand close. " When your 
 note came " 
 
 " Don't speak of it," I pleaded. 
 
 ' Yes, let me speak of it. When it came I 
 knew for the first time that your heart was mine, 
 that you loved me that they had sold you. You 
 couldn't disguise it. It was as if you had sent 
 the letter from your death-bed." 
 
 " Please don't talk about it. Tell me about 
 yourself." 
 
 " It is of myself that I am telling you. But I 
 did not in my heart reproach you. I simply felt 
 that you had fought against them as long as you 
 could and that you had been unable to conquer." 
 
 Not a word of reproach. Surely his heart was 
 merciful and forgiving. 
 
 " Yes, for a long time I stayed away from 
 here. I went to Kansas and continued my stud- 
 ies as best I could; and when I returned to Chi- 
 cago a year afterward, I was prepared for the 
 bar. I was fortunate enough to find a distant 
 relative, a lawyer more in need of rest than of 
 practice; and I took an office with him and have 
 managed to make a fair sort of a living. Of 
 course my great incentive was gone, but I 
 
 365
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 worked hard. My associate lives out in the 
 country and doesn't come in very often." 
 
 " There is one question that I hope you will 
 not ask me," said I; and he drew me closer to 
 him, saying that he knew what it was. " You 
 don't wish me to ask you if you are happy," said 
 he. 
 
 " Yes, that is it." 
 
 " Then you will tell me without my asking," 
 he replied; and I thought of the time when he 
 had sworn, there in that very seat, to keep his 
 word, but had not. " You haven't changed 
 much," said I. 
 
 " Oh, yes, outwardly. They say that I have 
 sobered into well, some of my friends call me 
 the undertaker. But how little you have 
 changed. And if at all, for the better. You 
 are handsomer than ever. In your eyes there 
 is more soul, and your voice, if possible, is 
 sweeter." 
 
 " You must not talk that way," I replied, pull- 
 ing my hand away from him. He looked at me, 
 smiling sadly. I arose. I told him that I must 
 go home. 
 
 366
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " No, not yet/' he declared. " Sit down, 
 please, I have something to say to you." 
 ''' But perhaps you ought not to say it." 
 " Then it is more worth the hearing, don't you 
 know. Wait just a moment. There can be no 
 harm in talking to me, can there? Hasn't a 
 married woman the privilege of talking to her 
 former friends? Sit down, please." 
 
 I sat down. My heart was so hungry for his 
 words. " What is it you were going to say? " I 
 inquired. 
 
 " But will you promise not to go away ? " 
 " I will promise to do the best I can." 
 He leaned toward me. He attempted to take 
 my hand, but I forbade it. " Still fighting me," 
 he said. 
 
 " But I must fight now, you know." 
 " No, you mustn't. Gypsy, I have dreamed 
 of you every night. And although I said just 
 now that the great incentive to work was lack- 
 ing, yet it was not wholly lost, for in my dreams 
 I always possessed you and the time will come 
 when I shall possess you. Don't shake your 
 head ; you know it must be. Nature has one cry 
 
 367
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 above all others for me that we belong to each 
 other." 
 
 " You must not you shall not talk to me that 
 way." 
 
 Again I arose. But my feet were shod with 
 lead. What harm could there be in listening to 
 this faithful heart? But I was waiting for him 
 to beg me to sit down; and this he did, not 
 in words only but in sonnets. I sat down again, 
 declaring that I ought not to listen to him, and 
 yet longing in a way not well disguised, for more 
 of his words, his heart-throbs. They were as 
 the echo of my own pulsations. All of the laws 
 in the world cannot make a morality. This qual- 
 ity must have been born within. But I shall not 
 strive to defend myself. No matter how much 
 it costs me I must tell the truth, for without truth 
 no moral can be drawn from a story, and without 
 this a story might better remain in the darkness 
 of the mind. 
 
 " More than once I sought to find out whether 
 you had returned," he went on, " but there was 
 no way, except by watching the newspapers with 
 the hope of seeing your name. After an age I 
 found it. But then I did not know where you 
 
 368
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 were to live ; and after this I waited for the new 
 directory to come out. When it did come, only a 
 few days ago, I seized it as a man might snatch 
 a telegram. And then I found out. I went to 
 the place, or rather to a place near by and 
 watched for you waited a long time more 
 than once not with the intention, however, of 
 making so bold as to speak to you. I wanted 
 or rather I hoped simply to see you to feed my 
 starving eyes. To-day I was rewarded. I saw 
 you come out of the house and I followed you 
 to this place. And you are not going to leave 
 me now." 
 
 " But I must go pretty soon." 
 
 " Why should you go ? I saw them take a 
 trunk out of the house and I saw Bayless drive 
 away. Let us live for a time as we once lived 
 free; and then if you wish to leave me, never to 
 see me again but this must not be. Once you 
 told me that without my love you would be mis- 
 erable. Do you remember ? " 
 
 " Yes, we were sitting here." 
 
 " Yes, and the sun was sinking just as it is 
 now. Ah, and the memory of those words, min- 
 gled with the light of the sinking sun, has kept 
 
 369
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 my heart from breaking. I could not picture 
 Europe, because I have never seen one of its 
 countries, but I could see you in a strange land 
 looking homeward, and yet not knowing why 
 you wished to return. It was not vanity, but 
 my heart, that told me you were unhappy, that 
 history, antiquity, meant nothing to you." 
 
 " Your heart spoke the truth. There is no 
 way that I can hide the truth from you. My very 
 silence shouts it." 
 
 He seized my hand and bent over it, kissed it ; 
 and when he looked up, his eyes were stricken 
 with tears. " You are not going home now," he 
 said. " You are going down to the city to dine 
 with me." 
 
 I bowed my head. 
 
 370
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 OUT OF THE MILLION NIGHTS, ONE WAS HIS. 
 
 It was a long time before I consented to go 
 with him. As long as the sun's rays fell about 
 me I said no, persuading him not to persuade 
 me ; but when the twilight came and the shadows 
 lay upon the sward, I arose, with him tightly 
 gripping my arm, and went with him. Not out 
 of rebellious mood but out of hunger for his 
 sympathy was I induced to bend myself to his 
 will. But was I not bending myself to my own 
 will? 
 
 " Shall we go to our old restaurant?" I asked 
 as we were rumbling along on a grip car. 
 
 " It is no longer our old place," he replied. "It 
 has been changed about. The warm cherry 
 wood has been replaced with cold marble. Let 
 us wander about and by chance find some new 
 place." 
 
 He was holding my hand. I did not resist 
 him now. The warm currents of our hearts 
 
 371
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 were mingling, in one emotional stream. Few 
 were the words that we spoke. It was a time 
 for silence, for a hypnotized musing upon self. 
 All of the past was mellowed and there was no 
 future. Love legitimatized lawlessness. There 
 was no lawlessness, for graceful nature walked 
 forth, free from conventional skirts. I felt as if 
 having drunk a hot cordial, it was bubbling in 
 my blood. I should have been happy had I 
 known that death awaited us at the end of the 
 ride. There are times when one is thankful for 
 a minute, when beyond a minute there lies not 
 repentance only nothing. 
 
 We got off the car and wandered about, seeing 
 not but feeling everything, the delicious currents 
 of air, cool from the lake. There was music in 
 even the sharp cry of the newsboy. Nature and 
 all the material world had been transformed. 
 " You look sad," said Edward. 
 " But I am happy in a dream." 
 " Then dream on, for life is only a dream." 
 " The wise have said so. But perhaps we are 
 awake a part of the time ; and then we are unhap- 
 py." Suddenly I was seized with a fear of the 
 
 372
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 dawn. " Suppose some one should see us some 
 one that knows." 
 
 " In this beehive ? It is not likely." 
 
 A slight fear of the future may sweeten the 
 present. We walked aimlessly, turning from one 
 street into another. 
 
 " Shall we go in here? " he asked, and I looked 
 up. It was the restaurant to which Nevum had 
 taken me, where the foreigners had stared at 
 me. I drew back. " Come on," he urged. 
 
 Elevators were taking guests to the private 
 rooms above. But now I did not refuse the se- 
 clusion, the rooms that looked so darkly shaded 
 when viewed from the street. Gently he touched 
 my arm and I stepped into the elevator. We 
 were shown into a small dining room on the third 
 floor. The waiter turned on an electric light and 
 left us alone. Edward stood looking at me. 
 
 " Alone and almost for the first time," he said. 
 
 " It ought not to be," I weakly protested. " It 
 is not right. Let us go below." 
 
 " No, sit down." 
 
 The waiter knocked on the door and entered. 
 He placed a bill of fare on the table and was 
 about to withdraw again and when Edward re- 
 
 373
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 marked that we would give our orders. It did 
 not take long to decide as to what we wanted. 
 The mystery, the cat-like walk of every one 
 alarmed me, and I did not know what was to be 
 brought. We sat down.. Edward reached over 
 to take my hand. 
 
 " No," I said. " The waiter will be back again 
 in a moment." 
 
 " But he will knock before entering." 
 
 " And enter the moment he knocks." 
 
 I leaned my elbows upon the table, with my 
 chin in my hands. He smiled at me. 
 
 " Ah, you think you are now beyond my 
 reach," he said. " But you aren't, for we are 
 alone. There is no world except the one here, 
 within our reach. The other world is dead." 
 
 " No, it is merely asleep and will awake with a 
 loud roar," I replied. 
 
 He shook his head. " So far as we now must 
 know, it is never to awake." He gazed at me, 
 into my eyes; and from his eyes there was that 
 same warm pour of something. 
 
 " Tell me about your work," I said. " Do you 
 like it?" 
 
 374
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " Under certain conditions it would be a de- 
 light, but without you all is drudgery." 
 
 " But you can't have me. That was settled 
 nearly three years ago." 
 
 " So far as the law understood it, yes ; but 
 there is a higher law." 
 
 " That higher law may do for the life to come. 
 It is not in force here." 
 
 " Yes, in force here now. Under that higher 
 law I love you, and from the decision of the 
 heart, the judge of the higher law, there is no 
 appeal." 
 
 " Once you spoke of the fever that was on you. 
 Hasn't it begun to pass ? " 
 
 He shook his head. " It is stronger than ever 
 before. It is incurable. I " 
 
 The waiter knocked and came in with plates, 
 bread and water. Edward gave him a piece of 
 silver and he walked even lighter and more cat- 
 like than before. He bowed low as he withdrew. 
 
 " You were saying something when he inter- 
 rupted you," said I. My heart was hungry for 
 his words. 
 
 " I have so much to say, have begun to say so 
 much and have been so unable to finish it that I 
 
 375
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 don't know where I was when he interrupted." 
 
 " We were speaking of your fever. You said 
 that it was incurable." 
 
 " Yes, and it is. It is beyond all reach of medi- 
 cine. I was out in Kansas in a drouth and was 
 hotter, more burning than the drouth itself. My 
 fever took me out of bed in the early morning, 
 and I went forth to turn the dewy dawn into 
 scorching noon." 
 
 " Don't go beyond the truth." 
 
 " When the truth is an extreme, there is no 
 going beyond it. Out there I suffered, and with 
 only one consolation a narrow and selfish one, 
 that you were miserable. For the first time I 
 looked for European date lines in the newspapers. 
 In my mind I traveled through the different coun- 
 tries as well as ignorance could, gazed at pic- 
 tures of the Nile ; but only once did I find a kin- 
 dred paragraph once when I found that he had 
 gone to Rome, to study. Then I lived in Rome. 
 I bought stereoscopic views of the Vatican and 
 studied in detail the rooms of that great store- 
 house of the church, for I knew that you would 
 go there." 
 
 "Yes, I went there many a time, and once I 
 
 376
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 found a portrait that looked like you and " 
 
 " And you fled from it." 
 
 I looked at him in surprise. My hands were 
 clasped upon the table and he put his hand on 
 them and held them fast. " You fled from it 
 because you wanted to forget me. But you 
 couldn't. And why? Because nature did not 
 intend that you should. You belong to me." 
 
 He moved closer to me. He bowed his head 
 over my hands kissed them; and I begged him 
 not to, but he did, time and again. The waiter 
 knocked and came in with the food. 
 
 " You must be rational now," I said when the 
 waiter had gone out. 
 
 " I am always as rational as the past and the 
 present will permit. Perhaps you can make me 
 so by telling me of your travels." 
 
 " I had no travels. I was walking in my sleep." 
 
 " Then you dreamed." 
 
 " No, it was not even vivid enough for a 
 dream. TEe Nile arose and overflowed its own 
 history, leaving upon it a sediment of new earth." 
 
 " You saw Paris." 
 
 " I saw gowns, hats and heard the faint echo 
 of an opera. With the heart left behind there is 
 
 377
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 no travel only a sleep-walk. But tell me, wasn't 
 there a time when you felt bitter toward me ? " 
 
 " No," he answered, as if wondering, slowly 
 shaking his head. " I plucked out the spear that 
 was thrust into my bosom and kissed it." 
 
 " Oh, don't don't talk that way. You are 
 throwing spears at my heart. Reproach me if you 
 will, but don't talk that way." 
 
 " Reproach you ? It is not in my nature. You 
 might set your foot on my heart and yet would it 
 breathe love." 
 
 " I didn't know that a human being could be 
 so forgiving." 
 
 " Ah," he said, " love is of itself a continuous 
 forgiveness." 
 
 " Sometimes it is a continuous suffering," I 
 replied. 
 
 " But should not be when love knows that it is 
 loved." 
 
 Closer he moved toward me. He took both of 
 my hands in one of his; he put his arm about 
 me, and I struggled to draw away from him, but 
 he held me, pouring out a volume of passionate 
 words. He pressed my head against his bosom; 
 he kissed my hair, my lips, my neck; and almost 
 
 378
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 in a swoon I lay in his arms. Suddenly the 
 blighting present rushed upon me, and, strug- 
 gling free from him, I seized my hat, vowed that 
 I must go home. But he caught me in his arms, 
 kissed me passionately and held me back from 
 my weak purpose. 
 
 " Out of the thousand, the million of nights 
 that have been, and out of the millions that are 
 to be, precious, there is one night that belongs 
 to me to my soul this night." 
 
 Nowhere was there a sound save his voice, low 
 and desperately sweet. Yes, one other sound, 
 the cry arising from my own heart and about 
 his neck he folded my willing arms; and all of 
 the world and all of the ages that had passed 
 all of the love of man and woman all was a 
 vital present, all an illumined now. 
 
 379
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 THAT OLD PICTURE AGAIN. 
 
 Repentance is the sorrowful food of the soul. 
 But there may be a half repentance. It is when 
 the soul feeds reluctantly upon sorrow and the 
 heart gladly sips the nectar of remembered love. 
 For days I sat about, unable to read, unable to 
 think, dreaming, wondering at myself, as I have 
 fancied a contemplative infant must speculate at 
 its own mysterious existence. There came a brief 
 note from Bayless, but I did not answer it. 
 Shortly afterward, by appointment, I met Ed- 
 ward again. It was in the evening, at the res- 
 taurant. He said that I looked sad. Sight ob- 
 scures a memory as too much scenery in the the- 
 atre blunts the imagination; and perhaps, upon 
 seeing him, repentance arose for the moment as 
 the dominant feeling within me. But from the 
 street, from all of the outer air of the world, there 
 came that same music. I was loved, and life was 
 a melody. 
 
 380
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 Late in the night he parted from me at my 
 door. The lights were dim, and he stood with 
 his arm about me. He had told me that he was 
 going to Kansas on business, to be away a month. 
 A month ! What a desert of time. Had he said 
 a century it would not have fallen heavier upon 
 me. He said that I must be brave. I told him 
 that I should be. And I was. 
 
 Two days later Bayless returned, in the even- 
 ing. I met him at dinner, and we talked, each 
 striving to please and placate the other, it seemed. 
 After dinner he went into the library. I did not 
 at once follow him. I went to my own room, to 
 think; and when I had thought, for a long time, 
 I entered the library. He looked up with re- 
 proach in his eyes. He had talked to me, had 
 done his duty, and now why should he be dis- 
 turbed in his study? 
 
 " I thought you had taken out all the books you 
 care to read," he said. 
 
 " I haven't come for a book," I replied, stand- 
 ing near his chair, looking at him. His eyes 
 seemed to say, " Then what can you want ? " but 
 his lips spoke the words, " Won't you sit down ? " 
 
 " No, I thank you."
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Mr. Bayless, it is impossible for us to live in 
 the same house." 
 
 He frowned at me. " What rot is this? " 
 ' The rottenness of truth. I shall leave your 
 house tonight." 
 
 He shoved back his chair. " Now who has 
 been telling you tales? Has some meddlesome 
 wretch sent you an anonymous letter? It is not 
 true. I can prove it. But of course you pin your 
 faith to a conspiracy against me. Leave this 
 house and foist a scandal? You shall not." 
 
 A light began to shine on me, but to it I shut 
 my eyes. " I must leave this house tonight, never 
 to enter it again." 
 
 " But it will ruin me. You don't want to do 
 that, do you ? Didn't I come home in good humor 
 with you? Hadn't I resolved on my way home 
 that we were to get along better? Hadn't I 
 planned that you should go to Duluth with me? 
 And now you threaten to desert me. I know 
 that we have not lived happily together; I know 
 that you have not cared for my society; I know 
 that you would rather be alone. But if you leave 
 me now I shall be ruined. You must pay no 
 
 382
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 attention to evil tongues. A letter that bears no 
 name should not be considered. Sit down and 
 let us talk of our plans." 
 
 " I can tell you of my plans standing here. 
 They are simple. Our paths diverge." 
 
 " Gypsy, that is utter nonsense. Do you re- 
 member the picture I spoke of, a long time ago 
 of the Venetian girl ? " 
 
 " Yes, and it has been a long time, but you 
 have never shown it to me. I wouldn't ask about 
 it when we returned from abroad, but I looked for 
 it, on the walls everywhere, but couldn't find it. 
 I don't care to see it now." 
 
 " But you must," he cried, bounding out of his 
 chair. " I have it here." He unlocked a drawer 
 of a bookcase and took out an etching. " See, it 
 is your image," he said, holding up the picture 
 beneath the light. " Your mouth, your hair. In 
 an evil hour, an hour of misunderstanding, I took 
 it down and hid it away, but I will hang it here 
 where I can see it." 
 
 I took the picture and threw it on the floor. 
 The frail frame broke. The pieces flew about 
 his chair. The picture curled up, like a scroll. 
 He sat down. His old-time smile came back to 
 
 383
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 him. " My little girl has a temper," he said. 
 " But come, sit here on the arm of my chair." 
 
 " It is too late, Mr. Bayless. Since your return 
 I have not even touched your hand. Had you 
 noticed it? " 
 
 " Yes and I suspected why." 
 
 " No, I don't think you have suspected. If you 
 did, you might not be so calm." 
 
 " Gypsy, let me see the letter. Let me swear to 
 you that it is false. Together let us burn it up 
 and begin a new life." 
 
 " I may begin a new life, but not with you." 
 
 " Are you so unforgiving? " 
 
 " Oh, no, I forgive you everything." 
 
 " Then come and sit here with me." 
 
 " No, fo % r you have not forgiven." 
 
 " Oh, yes I have. I forgive everything. And 
 I promise you never to speak to that woman 
 again. There was nothing wrong I swear it. 
 Give me the letter, please." 
 
 " There is no letter." 
 
 " No letter? Hasn't some one written to you? " 
 
 " No one has written." 
 
 " Then you have heard something." 
 
 " I have heard nothing." 
 
 384
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " Then what have you been trying to do with 
 me ? Then why do you suspect me ? It was un- 
 worthy of you, this role of detective. But I for- 
 give even that. Sit down." 
 
 " Never again in this house. You have ac- 
 cused yourself. I have not accused you. I am 
 here to accuse myself." 
 
 " No foolishness, Gypsy. Let us quit it." 
 
 " Do you understand what I mean by accusing 
 myself?" 
 
 " Oh, none of that, please. Accuse yourself 
 of what?" 
 
 " Infidelity." 
 
 "What's that?" 
 
 " I have been untrue to you." 
 
 He got up, he came to me, put his hands on 
 my shoulders, gripped me hard. ' What is that? 
 I don't understand. Untrue to me? Tell me 
 what you mean." 
 
 " I am no longer your wife. I am a man's 
 mistress." 
 
 With a cry of rage he shoved me from him, 
 back against the wall. Like a beast, a tiger he 
 leaped upon me seized me about the neck. 
 
 385
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " His name give it, or I will choke you to 
 death!" 
 
 I did not resist him. He hurled me to one 
 side and I fell upon the floor. He sprang at 
 me again, but faltered as his hands were at my 
 throat. He suffered me to arise. " By God, I 
 will murder you unless you tell me his name ! " 
 
 I moved from him. Slowly he followed me, 
 repeating his threat. " You spoke of scandal," 
 said I, as calm as if he had not choked me. " Be 
 quieter or it might even now come upon your 
 house. I will not tell you his name. If you will 
 let me pass out I will bid you good night." 
 
 He stood gazing at me. 
 
 "Will you let me go?" He said nothing, 
 standing between me and the door. " Then I 
 shall break through the window. No, I will stay 
 a moment longer. You have been untrue, have 
 been caught by some one, and that is the reason 
 you thought you were willing to forgive me. 
 But it was not out of revenge that I trailed 
 your name in the dust. I didn't know of your 
 unfaithfulness; I didn't care. You are afraid 
 of scandal. Perhaps I am not. In this town 
 there is a door that is ever swinging. It is the 
 
 386
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 door of the divorce court. It is open for you. I 
 grant you your freedom. I shall remain mute." 
 
 He gazed at me. " I don't know what to .say 
 to you," he said. 
 
 ' Yes, you do, but you are afraid to say it. 
 You would like to say that you thank me for 
 promising to be mute." 
 
 '' When did this happen?" he inquired, calmer, 
 breathing easier. 
 
 " That is of no consequence. May I go now ? " 
 
 " Oh, I know the name of the man." 
 
 " Then why did you choke me ? May I go ? " 
 
 He moved slowly from between me and the 
 door. When I reached the door he inquired: 
 :< Where are you going? " 
 
 " That's of no consequence, either. Tomorrow 
 I will send for what few things I possess." 
 
 " But how are you to live ? " 
 
 " By work." 
 
 " No, you must not go around looking for 
 work under my name." 
 
 " I shall take another name." 
 
 This relieved him. He sighed as if he had 
 put down a burden at the top of a hill. I went 
 out of the room, out into the street. 
 
 387
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 THE OCEAN FULL OF WRECKS. 
 
 From the west the warm wind came, grateful 
 to my cheeks which now seemed freezing. 
 
 Edward, who had bade me to be brave, had 
 doubtless not surmised that going far beyond the 
 boundary line of courage I should be desperate, 
 that I should cast myself into the pitiless sea of 
 self-confessing infidelity. But ah, this ocean, 
 swarming full of dismal wrecks of barks once 
 freighted with promises and happiness, of treas- 
 ures lying at the purple rainbow's end, were as 
 hopeful sails compared with the shattered junk 
 from which I had just cast myself. 
 
 I went to a small hotel not far away and reg- 
 istered under my old name. Early on the follow- 
 ing morning I sent for my trunk, and when it 
 came, I asked the expressman if he had brought 
 a note for me, and he answered that he had not. 
 Had I been foolish enough to expect that Bayless 
 would send a word of regret ? Now strong upon 
 
 388
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 me came the desire for morphine, and I took it, 
 and throughout the day I dreamed, not of any 
 happiness to come, but of objects about me, the 
 wall paper, the dingy wardrobe, the wash-stand, 
 anything turning each article into a subject for 
 study. The night that followed was long but not 
 tiresome; I slept but little until toward dawn and 
 then I sank into profound nothingness. In the 
 afternoon I went down to the real estate office 
 where once I was almost a favorite. The place 
 had changed, the suburban town had been built, 
 and the force in the land department was much 
 reduced. But Roland was there. He was not sur- 
 prised to see me. " They marry and after a while 
 some of them return," he said, smiling. He 
 thought that he could give me work. And, so, 
 the next day, I set out again on my abandoned 
 career as stenographer. There had been not only 
 changes in the office, the world, but in myself. 
 I had almost forgotten my trade. I had to guess 
 at much of the dictation and my mind was not 
 so grasping as it had been. But Roland was 
 patient. He said that it would all come back to 
 me within a day or two. 
 
 I did not know Edward's address. He would 
 
 389
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 not direct a letter to my husband's house, and so I 
 must wait a month, until his return from Kansas. 
 In the night I studied my old books, striving to 
 overtake my former self, but the effort made my 
 head ache and my system demanded the drug, 
 but I used it sparingly and believed that I was 
 about to conquer the evil. 
 
 Not more than a week had passed before I re- 
 ceived notice that Bayless had filed a bill for 
 divorce. A newspaper reporter first brought the 
 information. He said that it had been hard 
 work to " locate " me. I said as little as I pos- 
 sibly could. " We have simply found that we 
 cannot live together," said I. " Our tempera- 
 ments are at war." 
 
 " Then there was I beg pardon, but there 
 has been no man in the case." 
 
 "Only such men and such women as Mr. Bay- 
 less may name." 
 
 " He charges infidelity." 
 
 " On his part or mine? " 
 
 The reporter smiled. " It is not likely that he 
 would charge it on his part." 
 
 " Not very," I admitted. " Who is named 
 
 390
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " As corespondent ? Edward Somers. Have 
 you anything to say with regard to him ? " 
 
 " I suppose Mr. Bayless has said all that is 
 necessary. Have you seen Mr. Bayless?" 
 
 " Yes. He doesn't say much of anything." 
 
 ' Then please say in your report that I don't 
 say much of anything." 
 
 He went away, smiling. Roland asked me 
 concerning him. I gave my story as well as I 
 could or as I thought advisable. I asked if the 
 divorce suit would endanger my position. He 
 said no, but that I must relieve my mind of it and 
 give more of myself to my work. This was a 
 hint that my improvement had not come up to 
 expectation. 
 
 The reporter's " story " was devoted mainly to 
 my " beauty." I had been a society belle. In 
 Europe I had attracted the attention of crowned 
 heads. In Rome the artists had raved over me. 
 Edward Somers was one of the most promising 
 of the young lawyers of the city. While he was 
 yet poor and unknown, Bayless had taken him to 
 his house. It was there that he first met the 
 " beautiful and accomplished " Mrs. Bayless. 
 For a time the husband suspected nothing. He 
 
 391
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 was a busy man, devoted to his profession. But 
 after the lawyer had left the house, when in fact 
 he had become prosperous, the architect dis- 
 covered the attachment and suspected the rela- 
 tionship. He charged his wife with unfaithful- 
 ness and she did not deny it. 
 
 This made me furiously angry. I spent an 
 evening in writing a correction, tearing up and 
 writing again ; but from the kettle of my boiling 
 anger my words came forth as steam, fading as 
 they arose, until they were nothing in the air. 
 So I sent no correction. The next day Roland 
 told me that my services were no longer required. 
 The slowness of business had rendered it neces- 
 sary to reduce the force. I had expected it and 
 was not surprised. That night a lawyer called 
 on me at the hotel. Suddenly at this obscure 
 place I had become the " show boarder." The 
 women stared at me. The men whispered. I 
 received the lawyer in the parlor. " You are go- 
 ing to fight that divorce," he said. 
 
 " I am not." 
 
 " But you ought to. It is your duty to society." 
 
 "Why so?" 
 
 " I will expjain. My office is just across the 
 
 392
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 hall from the office of the lawyer engaged by Mr. 
 Bayless. We are on good terms. And it is 
 known among all of us there that Bayless and 
 that Cretchmar woman " 
 
 " I don't wish to hear anything about it." 
 
 " But as I say, it is your duty to yourself, if 
 not to society. The decree will be granted and 
 you will be forced to bear the odium. His con- 
 duct with that woman was notorious." 
 
 " But I don't wish to obstruct the granting of 
 the decree. I want it granted. I want to be 
 free." 
 
 He stared at me. " Ah, and are you quite sure 
 that at this moment you are in full possession of 
 all of your faculties ? Grief seems to have unset- 
 tled your mind. You speak of obstructing you 
 use words almost foreign to a young woman. 
 Now, I will go into court " 
 
 " Not in my behalf," I interrupted. 
 
 He urged me, but I was firm. 
 
 It was cowardly of Bayless, but in his rela- 
 tionship with woman has not man nearly always 
 been cowardly? Man's history begins with 
 cowardice. The woman tempted him and he did 
 eat. But would Edward be cowardly? In my 
 
 393
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 mind I could see him with the newspaper in his 
 hand, horror-struck with the lie. I could see him 
 speeding to me, to console and shield me with 
 his name and his love. But the days passed and 
 he did not come. Was it possible that he had 
 not heard, had not seen the infamous story? Ah, 
 there are so many groans issuing from the great, 
 troubled bosom of this town! Perhaps he had 
 not heard. 
 
 The decree was granted. I searched out the 
 number of Edward's office, and twice I called, 
 but he had not returned. I went to the post 
 office and called for letters, at the general deliv- 
 ery window Mrs. Bayless, Miss Gipsy Daw- 
 son, Elinor Dawson, but there was nothing for 
 me. Late one afternoon I called again at the 
 office, in an old building in LaSalle Street, near 
 Washington. He was there. Upon seeing me he 
 started out of his chair. He looked about. There 
 was no one else in the room. I held out my 
 hands, with my head bowed. He took my hands, 
 but in his touch there was no fire. 
 
 " Edward, I am free. You said you could not 
 live without me. You now see that I cannot live 
 without you." 
 
 394
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " Be careful," he said. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know how to be careful. That 
 newspaper story was a lie. I told the man noth- 
 ing." 
 
 " Ah, but you told Bayless something. You 
 ought not to have done that. You ruined me." 
 
 " But Edward, can there be any ruin as long 
 as we love each other ? Let us go away far off 
 somewhere, and " 
 
 " I have no money. How can I go anywhere ? " 
 
 " But Edward, love may walk." 
 
 He shook his head. I felt the tears gushing 
 out of my eyes; and now I could not see him; 
 I called him, with my hands held out again, but 
 he did not answer me. I ran to the door. He 
 was stealing away, down the hall. I shouted at 
 him, I ran to the stairs and this was all I re- 
 member. I awoke in my wretched room. A phy- 
 sician and a nurse were with me. The first word 
 that came indignant to my lips was " coward." 
 I was thinking of Edward. Into my arm the 
 physician injected something and I slept. 
 
 395
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 THE HAG AND THE DOG. 
 
 In the bitterness of my soul I cursed him, the 
 weakling, the liar, the jelly fish. And this very 
 excess of bitterness hardened me and seemed to 
 strengthen my heart. I would live to be avenged 
 upon him. Toward Bayless I felt nothing but 
 contempt, but toward the man to whom I had 
 given my very soul there arose a murderous 
 hatred. The youth of love is strong, but the 
 hatred that comes as the old age of abandoned 
 love is stronger still, I mused as I lay in bed, 
 longing for health, not that I might do good, but 
 evil. 
 
 Soon I was out a^ain, and when I was well 
 able to walk I went forth with one idea in my 
 poor, distracted head. It was vengeance. On 
 the car I wandered if the passengers could read 
 my purpose in my face. The newsboys were cry- 
 ing the early editions of the afternoon papers, 
 and I mused, " Ah, soon you will have need of 
 
 396
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 another edition, with headlines not in black but 
 red." The day was hot, but I wore a cloak and 
 beneath it I carried something a knife. Upon 
 getting off the car I went straightway toward 
 Edward's office. Weak and almost fainting, I 
 restrained myself from my impulse to run to the 
 place. His office was on the second floor. I did 
 not take the elevator. It was old and seemed too 
 slow for my purpose. I may have crept up the 
 stairs, but I fancied that I was swift. Along the 
 hall I ran, faster, I thought, than in his cowardice 
 he had fled from me. I seized the door knob. 
 The door was locked. I beat upon it. Then and 
 not until then did I see the " for rent " sign. The 
 wretch had fled. 
 
 Now what spirit force was there to keep me 
 alive? And, upon what physical resources could 
 I draw? I had but a small amount of money, 
 and in order to live, in the vague hope of ultimate 
 revenge, it was necessary that I should have em- 
 ployment. So, returning home I again took up 
 my old book. That evening the newspapers con- 
 tained a paragraph that had the shadow of inter- 
 est for me. Bayless had disposed of his Chicago 
 belongings and had departed for Rome. 
 
 397
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 A few days later I succeeded in finding work 
 in a South Water street provision house. It was 
 hard and not well paid, but it was something; 
 and, with the aid of the now indispensable drug, 
 taken moderately, I gave a sort of satisfaction 
 for a month, and then, having taken too much of 
 the poison, I was charged with drunkenness and 
 dismissed. Morphine demands alcohol. Nearly 
 all of the slaves of one are chained by the other. 
 Now began a desperate fight. For two days I 
 struggled. And here, struggle is not merely a 
 word. I felt as if I were contending against some 
 great and overpowering strength. My hair was 
 wet with cold perspiration. My heart fluttered. 
 Every nerve shrieked for the drug. I could hear 
 these shrieks. They startled my own moping 
 blood. They frightened my soul. Unable longer 
 to endure the agony and the terror, I went to a 
 drug store and asked for morphine. I was re- 
 fused. To numerous places I went, but was told 
 that I could have none. Then I bought whisky. 
 But this alone would not serve. It sickened me. 
 I threw the bottle out of the window. Then came 
 the minions of hell to afright me. In wide wake- 
 fulness I saw an inferno that would have driven 
 
 398
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 the poet from his purpose. Through the window 
 there came an old and toothless hag. She mum- 
 bled a curse above my head, bending over me, 
 breathing fetid air down into my face. I tried 
 to spring out upon the floor, but she held me 
 fast, and with a rope covered with frost she bound 
 my ankles and my hands. Going then to the 
 window she whistled. Into the room leaped a 
 lank and hungry dog. Starvation lighted up his 
 eyes. The hag motioned toward me, and with 
 a howl the dog sprang upon me, and from my 
 bones began to tear the flesh. With gulping 
 noise he tore my breast away and I saw him 
 swallow it. In awful agony I begged the 
 hag to kill me, but beneath my nostrils she held 
 some sort of vivifying essence that I might longer 
 live to see the hound gorge himself. My life was 
 lengthened after he had feasted full. A skeleton, 
 red, without an ounce of flesh, I was hauled 
 forth from the bed and made to walk about, and 
 rattled as I moved. " Ah," said the hag to the 
 dog, " you have not taken yet the dessert," and 
 the beast, understanding, leaped upon me and 
 with his long front teeth bit out my eyes. Then 
 all was dark, but I could hear them, the dog's 
 
 399
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 sharp claws upon the floor. " Drag her out to 
 pick her bones for lunch/' the old hag cried ; and 
 with that the beast seized me to drag me away. 
 Then came loud peals of thunder, the flash of a 
 light, the sounds of voices ; faces were above me. 
 My cries had alarmed the hotel and the landlord 
 had broken in the door. The house physician 
 gave me morphine, and now I slept. 
 
 The next day was Sunday. The sun was blaz- 
 ing. I heard people complain of the heat, but 
 sometimes I was freezing. A remnant of soul 
 was left within me, and going out with a purpose 
 in view, and with the horror of the night still 
 vivid in my mind, I was resolved to go to church. 
 I had heard and read of Dr. Thomas, who 
 preached in McVicker's theater, and thither I 
 went. For a time the music was soothing, but I 
 could make nothing of the prayer, it sounded so 
 far away; and when the sermon was begun, the 
 name Jesus frightened me. It seemed that He 
 was my enemy. And then, looking about, I saw 
 that the place was peopled not with worshipers, 
 but with hags that had come to torture me. I was 
 afraid to move, afraid to look ; and I sat with my 
 eyes closed. Suddenly I heard the growl of that 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 dog and I started up. No, it was the rumble of 
 the organ. I greatly desired to talk to the good 
 man who had preached, to tell him of the trouble 
 in my soul, to acknowledge that I had sought to 
 commit murder; and when the sermon was done 
 I went forward upon the stage. He met me with 
 a kindly smile. I asked him if there were any 
 hope for me, and he took my hand ah, and 
 started at the coldness of it. 
 
 " You need a physician," he said. 
 " No, I want your help. Get me get me away 
 from myself. If you have any power over the 
 hags and that awful dog, keep them away from 
 me." 
 
 He tried to reason with me. He told me of 
 the goodness of God and I shuddered. I replied 
 that God had sent me word that He was my 
 enemy." 
 
 Then came forward a woman with a pleasant 
 face ; and the Doctor introduced me to Miss Net- 
 tie Houghton. The best years of her life had 
 been spent in rescuing women from the slums and 
 in striving to keep young girls from going astray. 
 In as few words as I could I told her of my con- 
 dition, who I was and all about myself; and she 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 took me by the hand and said that I must go home 
 with her. She said that neither the dog nor the 
 hag could get into her house. I went with her, 
 and during the night she sat by me, gave me 
 medicine, awoke me out of those frightful dreams. 
 Early in the morning a physician came, but he 
 would not give me morphine ; so when the chance 
 offered I ran away and returned to my room at 
 the hotel. I had paid for more than a week in 
 advance, but the proprietor objected to me, say- 
 ing that I would drive his other guests away. 
 " Not if the doctor does his duty," I replied. The 
 doctor gave me morphine and I slept, but I raved 
 again the next morning. I was taken to the 
 county hospital. Here the physicians, accustomed 
 to such cases, rendered me almost normal by the 
 use of morphine. But soon it developed that I 
 was afflicted with spinal trouble. As the days 
 passed I became weaker. One morning I heard 
 the doctors talking about me. It was not imag- 
 inary, for my mind was now clear clearer than 
 it had been for weeks. One of them said that 
 an operation might possibly save my life. An- 
 other remarked that it was barely possible. Then 
 it was decided to operate on me. Without any 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 ceremonious delay I was taken into the operating 
 room, but after a thorough examination I was 
 told that it would be useless to operate. " You 
 are past all help," said the surgeon. " You would 
 surely die under the knife." 
 
 " And is there a chance that I might get well 
 if not operated on ? " 
 
 " None whatever," he replied, shaking his 
 head. " If you have any relatives you'd better 
 send for them. You cannot live more than a 
 week." 
 
 They took me back and placed me on a cot, to 
 die. 
 
 403
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 THE PASSING OF THE EVIL. 
 
 At times my suffering was almost unbearable. 
 Patience is not always rewarded. Quiet pain 
 is passed without notice, but clamorous misery 
 demands attention. They gave me morphine, 
 not perhaps so much out of kindness as in a sort 
 of self defense. My shrieks were enough to chill 
 the blood if not enough to melt the heart. 
 
 To die the end. The end of what? Of a 
 poor failure misdirected from the first glimpse 
 of life. But I was not sorry to go, if I could pass 
 on without agony if they would keep from me 
 that hag and that gaunt dog. Ah, but perhaps 
 the hag and the dog were minions of the other 
 world. What if there they should be the first to 
 " greet my stranger soul? " This thought terri- 
 fied me and I screamed. A woman in passing 
 halted at my cot and with kindly eyes looked 
 down upon me. I could not recollect having seen 
 such a face. It possessed not a mark of beauty 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 in the physical sense and yet it was radiant with 
 a beauty that proclaimed the triumph of soul. I 
 requested her to sit down for a moment and she 
 did. In a pleasant and soothing voice she began 
 to talk to me. At first I paid no heed to the mean- 
 ing of her words; I was lulled by the music in 
 them. But after a time the significance of her 
 thought came into my mind. I strove to repeat 
 what she said but could not. There was no mys- 
 ticism, nothing vague a strange new wisdom, 
 though, and wisdom was foreign to my nature 
 and my mind. But it was pleasing to listen and 
 I begged her to continue. She was in no haste 
 to leave me. She smiled upon my suffering, but 
 in her smile there was beautious sympathy. She 
 did not ask me for my confidence, yet I told her 
 my story, expecting to see her countenance 
 change, but it did not, except to grow sweeter 
 with patience and compassion. " And oh, that 
 I might ask one favor of you," I said. " Soon I 
 am to die and will you sit near me, to cheer me 
 at the last awful moment, to keep that hag from 
 me?" 
 
 She smiled. " There is no hag and there must 
 not be an awful moment." 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " Oh, you mean that you will soothe the mo- 
 ment and take from it the terror of death ? " 
 
 " There must not be death. You are in the 
 thrall of mortal mind. The Real Mind cannot 
 be ill cannot suffer. There is no evil. All is 
 good all that is. That which you think the 
 substance of disease is but a vision of evil. What 
 is the substance of the tree ? Is it the bark or the 
 branches or the roots? These may be burned 
 and the ashes scattered, but the spirit that caused 
 the leaves to come out that cannot be de- 
 stroyed. You might cut down all the trees and 
 there would remain just as much of that some- 
 thing that caused the tree to grow. Mortal hands 
 cannot reach it. It flows from the spirit of na- 
 ture the one mind, good God. You live by 
 the spirit and -not by the flesh, but the spirit may 
 control the flesh, this outward garment. There 
 is one great and omnipotent Mind the Eternal. 
 All mind is a part of that one eternal mind. 
 There are countless millions of drops of water, 
 but all of the drops combined compose water, the 
 sea. You must not pass on now. In this present 
 form of life there is work for you to do. You 
 have not yet lived. Your existence has been a 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 struggle with mortal mind. Your freedom is 
 registered was registered by Christ, the Scien- 
 tist. You have only to accept Him, not as a mere 
 name, but as a reality. He is the great healer of 
 all ills. The soul divine mind is the only sub- 
 stance. All else are but shadows. They pass 
 away. The sun will burn out. The rocks wear 
 into dust and be blown about, but the Mind, 
 the only substance, remains forever. It was here 
 before the sun, before the air. It will always 
 remain. You are a part of that mind. Why then 
 should you, part of the eternal mind, suffer? 
 You cannot. It is mortal mind that suffers in 
 you. You must not think that your own will 
 is a physician. Your will is a part of mortal 
 mind and may soon fall into weakness and dis- 
 ease. Accept the truth that Christ, the Scien- 
 tist, is health, strength and happiness. The phy- 
 sicians have told you that you must die. They 
 believe in their own theory. They have been 
 educated. But how far toward the understand- 
 ing of the real man has their education helped 
 them? They may dissect a man the most skill- 
 ful of them and cannot determine whether this 
 man were honest or a thief, brave or a coward, 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 industrious or lazy. So, then, the most impor- 
 tant part of this man the something that made 
 him whatever he might have been, has wholly 
 escaped them. They cannot administer upon the 
 something that holds you alive at this moment." 
 
 " You cannot mean that there is any hope for 
 me," I replied; and she smiled as she said: 
 " There is not only a hope but a certainty. What 
 difference can it make with the eternal mind 
 how far the disease of mortal mind has pro- 
 gressed? Your cure was effected more than 
 ages ago. All truth is eternal. No historian can 
 go back to the foundation of truth. Principles 
 are more ancient than the hills. There is a part 
 of you which cannot die. It is the essential part, 
 for it is a part of the great and eternal whole. 
 That part can dominate the physical part." 
 
 " But I cannot exert my mind," I feebly re- 
 plied. 
 
 " I do not mean that you should, for that part 
 which you of yourself could assert would be the 
 mortal part. This would do you no good. But 
 you can accept the truth. You may open the 
 ears of your understanding. You have come to 
 believe that you need a certain drug. You feel 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 that without it you will be wretched. That is 
 the cry of your mortal self. But we do not live 
 by mortal self. Realize that you are immortal 
 that you are a part of the eternal mind. Do net 
 believe in that old error that you have within 
 your body a soul to be tortured. You yourself 
 are soul that part of you which is substance, 
 and substance cannot be effected by medicine." 
 
 Suddenly I realized the truth of what she was 
 saying. I had been held in a thrall, a slavery of 
 the mortal flesh. There could be but one su- 
 preme power Good. Evil had no place in the 
 great economy. I rose up with a new strength 
 and sat on the edge of the cot. I felt that within 
 me a new force was at work. New force? Ah, 
 it was the old force, the eternal force. We talked 
 until a late hour. Then the woman bade me 
 good night, saying that she would come again 
 on the following day. I lay down and slept. I 
 did not even dream. In the rebuilding of wasted 
 forces nature did not disturb herself. The care- 
 less nurse was astonished. She was determined, 
 however, that I should not draw too much of 
 encouragement from my peaceful and recupera- 
 tive night. She said that it sometimes happened 
 
 409
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 that way just before the end. I had been as- 
 signed to die, and it seemed that to live was a 
 violation of instructions. I wished to dress my- 
 self but she forbade it. 
 
 It was still early when the woman came. SHe 
 brought with her a book, Science and Health. 
 " Read this today and tomorrow I will come for 
 you," she said. Now there was no doubt. I knew 
 that she would come for me and that I should be 
 able to go with her. She expressed no surprise 
 over the great progress I had made during the 
 night. " Do not be afraid of eating," she said. 
 Then I realized that I was hungry. As I was 
 doomed to die, it made no difference as to what 
 I might eat, so they brought me a substantial 
 meal. How delicious everything tasted. It was 
 as if the appetite of early youth had returned. 
 Morphine ! It did not exist for me. This wom- 
 an, this agent from the Eternal, told me that 
 her name was Martha Haines. Many years of 
 her life had been devoted to Science. She had 
 arisen from a death bed. Now she was again in 
 the youth of her health and her strength. 
 
 She did not remain long this time, having 
 many other duties, but left me to read the book. 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 At first it was not clear to me. It seemed that 
 a great soul was struggling to express itself in 
 the hampering language of the body. Over the 
 landscape there appeared to be clouds ; but after 
 a while the sun shone through. And now all 
 was clear. The day passed in perfect peace. My 
 mind was growing every moment, but in its evo- 
 lution it did not look back or brood upon the past. 
 I believed, however, that remorse must come 
 when full development should be attained. 
 
 In the evening one of the doctors who had pro- 
 nounced my case incurable passed along where 
 I was sitting, in a chair near the cot. He halted 
 and looked at me. " Is it possible," he said. 
 " Why, you look like a little girl. Your face is 
 as bright as a Christmas doll's." 
 
 He was kindly and I tried to tell him some- 
 thing of the cause that had wrought the great 
 change. But I couldn't. He listened patiently 
 and then remarked : " Ah, there are a great 
 many, things that none of us can comprehend." 
 
 When Martha Haines came the next morning 
 I was walking about, waiting for her. She was 
 in no wise astonished. " Ah," she said, " you 
 look as if the night had been balmy." 
 
 411
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " An unconscious delight," I answered and 
 she laughed. Then I asked her if she thought 
 me able to leave the hospital. How evil does 
 cling unto itself. She answered my question by 
 telling me to get my hat. And so, I went forth 
 into the sunshine, into the new and joyous world. 
 How clear everything was. My illness had van- 
 ished as a fog of the night, and with it, all my 
 evil desires had flown. Back upon my former 
 self I looked and saw disease moral evil from 
 which I now was forever cured and set free. 
 My heart was overflowing with a great and uni- 
 versal love. Within me there was no vestige of 
 bitterness, and I regretted my former self as one 
 would regret a disease during which time and 
 opportunity had been wasted. It had been but 
 a dream and I had not been able to realize that 
 it was a dream, made up of dark shadows. Now 
 my life was real. The very sunshine was dif- 
 ferent. It was a part of me of my mind, my 
 being. Not one unhealthful emotion stirred 
 within me. I was a part of a great calm. I real- 
 ized that no evil could endure. In my heart Ed- 
 ward held no more of a place than mankind in 
 general. I knew that it was but my mortal mind 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 that had fancied a love for him, and that such 
 love was an evil which could not endure. I was 
 cured of him. I thought of Bayless and toward 
 him I felt nothing but kindness. The only long- 
 ing I had was a desire to make the whole of man 
 see the world as now I saw it full of good with 
 evil passing away. 
 
 413
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 THE SOLUTION OF ALL TROUBLESOME PROBLEMS. 
 
 Mrs. Haines lived in a quiet street off from 
 Grand Boulevard, a Place, they called it. The 
 house, large and old fashioned, was steep-gabled, 
 the lower half of brick and the upper half of wood. 
 From without it looked like the abode of assured 
 rest, and when one had crossed the threshold, 
 this impression became a conviction. Every- 
 where there was comfort, the furniture smiling 
 in good humor, the pictures all of them kindly; 
 and as I looked about I knew that at last I had 
 found the calm waters of the harbor of content- 
 ment. My hostess spoke no unnecessary words 
 of welcome. Her manner was the grace of wel- 
 come. " Now you are at home," she said. 
 
 My room, at the top of the house, commanded 
 a clear view out upon the bustling life of the 
 sons of men. The inner life was provided for 
 with books, many of them old, eloquent and im- 
 passioned errors of the ancients. I sat down to 
 
 414
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 think, not to muse as to what was to become of 
 me. I knew that my life would now shape itself 
 i or graciously be shaped ; I had no fear of coming 
 evil, and therefore no evil would come. To fear 
 is to invite. To dread is to weaken oneself and 
 to build up calamity. In the sudden possession 
 of new health I was dazzled, more or less, and 
 I could but regard it all in the divine light of 
 a miracle, and it was while in prayful gratitude 
 I was dwelling upon it that Mrs. Haines came 
 up to tell me that luncheon was ready. I spoke 
 my mind to her; I took her hands, looked dim- 
 eyed into her eyes. 
 
 " Oh, not a miracle," she said, smiling. " It 
 was Science, the application of truth and all 
 truth and all good must be divine. It was no 
 special intervention. It was the action of a prin- 
 ciple." 
 
 " But isn't it a miracle, then, that you should 
 have found me and taken such an interest in 
 me? Why should you have brought me, a 
 stranger, to your home ? " 
 
 " My dear," she said, " in science there are no 
 strangers. Come, I want you to meet Mr. 
 Haines." 
 
 415
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 Her husband was sitting at the table, waiting 
 for us. My first sight of him bade me an addi- 
 tional welcome. He was a small, quick man, 
 graceful, and each gesture seemed as an act of 
 kindness. Arising, he gave my hand a warm 
 grasp, and began at once to talk about the beauty 
 of the day, of the cloud-sketches that had hung 
 over the lake, early in the morning. I knew that 
 he must be in some sort of business, but it is not 
 usual for a Chicago business man to find cloud- 
 sketches. Was he an artist? No, he was con- 
 nected with a school-book concern. His earlier 
 life, in New England, had been devoted to the 
 Unitarian ministry. " It was then that I formed 
 the habit of finding pictures," he said. " I looked 
 into the sky, searching for the eternal. It was 
 before I knew the truth that we find the eternal 
 by looking within." 
 
 I wondered whether he had seen my scandal 
 in the newspapers, but soon I was made to un- 
 derstand that I had been created anew, that my 
 old mortal error life had passed away, and that 
 no scandal could enter into the life which I had 
 now begun to live. 
 
 No sand grains of world gossip drifted into 
 
 416
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 our talk at the table. We talked of science, and 
 I soon found that instead of being a narrow 
 creed, hemmed in by the fear of truth, it was a 
 boundless universe, holding all truth. 
 
 " What an error poverty is," said Mr. Haines. 
 " It is a degenerate thought materialized or 
 rather made manifest to the physical eye. When 
 the truth shall have been universally accepted 
 and applied, there can be no poverty. Until then 
 there can be no complete civilization. So long 
 as there is a needy person within its borders, no 
 government can be a complete success. All so- 
 ciology is an experiment. In Science is the real 
 brotherhood of man. Science would right all of 
 the evils of the ballot box, would settle all trou- 
 blesome questions. Resolutions passed by legis- 
 latures do not change human nature. But Science 
 makes human nature just. Why? Because Sci- 
 ence is the light of justice and of truth. Science 
 would settle all questions of race and combative 
 denomination. Take the evil known as the social 
 evil. What have the churches and reformers 
 done with it? What have they to offer except 
 advice? They say, 'come, be good/ But what 
 reward in this world do they offer? None. Hun- 
 
 417
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 dreds of women have been taken out of the slums, 
 it is true, but they drift back because no other 
 life is open for them. Determined morality of 
 itself cannot wipe away that mark of sin world 
 disease. At best the poor creatures are looked 
 upon with tolerant pity, and this in time would 
 become an offense to any human being. Tlie 
 church says, ' come into our flock and be saved, 
 ye fallen sister/ but when the sister has come 
 she finds that it was only the outward door that 
 has been opened for her. Evil has left its brand 
 upon her brow ; and while the father of the fam- 
 ily prays with her and acknowledges that God 
 has forgiven her sins, yet he is not willing that 
 his wife and his daughter should associate with 
 her, fearing that regeneration may not have been 
 complete. This has been discussed thousands of 
 times, in the pulpit and in all sorts of moral print, 
 but no real remedy has been brought forward 
 or rather no remedy was hit upon until Science 
 held out the hand of true fellowship, of sym- 
 pathy and of love the pure hand that cannot be 
 contaminated. If from a bed of what is known 
 as typhoid fever a woman arises, the church does 
 not hold her fever against her. It says, ' you are 
 
 418
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 cured.' Science lifts a poor creature from the 
 fever of mortal error and recognizes the cure. 
 And here is another trouble encountered by the 
 creed churches: Reclaimed women, and re- 
 claimed men as well, do not appear to be fitted 
 for any sort of congenial work. But can Science 
 overcome this difficulty? It does. Science dig- 
 nifies and ennobles any sort of honest employ- 
 ment. It endows one with that great virtue, 
 thankfulness for ability to work, to live, to feel, 
 to enjoy the strength of Eternal Mind. Out of 
 this thankfulness grows a constantly increasing 
 improvement. Patience becomes tact, tact de- 
 velops into talent and talent is rewarded. The 
 heads of all the great corporations will tell you 
 that their most efficient employes are Scientists. 
 One reason is that being healthier they are al- 
 ways fit for work. Another reason is their abso- 
 lute honesty. A Scientist cannot afford to de- 
 ceive himself. He knows that he cannot be dis- 
 honest, mumble a few words on his knees and 
 receive forgiveness. Error must be cured. It 
 is not forgiven. Not long ago I heard a banker, 
 in speaking of a young man, say that he had 
 come with the highest possible recommendation 
 
 419
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 that he was a Christian Scientist. Ah, and 
 the beauty and the glory of Science is that 
 you are not promised a vague, shadow life re- 
 mote in the uncertain hereafter. Your life is 
 now never to end. Your present visible form 
 may pass on, but you do not die, to sleep for 
 ages and then to arise. Taken as a philosophy 
 there is none to compare with it. It is light 
 cheerfulness, success. It is at once the brother 
 and the sister of Nature; it heals error; it is, as 
 I said, the truth of the world. You may think 
 that your own case is remarkable, but it is not 
 more so than if you had been convinced without 
 having been healed of disease." 
 
 I felt that what he said was the truth. My 
 heart murmured it I breathed it with the air. 
 
 " The day of your usefulness has just 
 dawned," he continued; and his wife sat listen- 
 ing as if he were playing an instrument of sweet- 
 est music. " Your dark dream has passed. You 
 are entering upon an existence of rhythmic har- 
 mony. The wise know that will is merely local, 
 that thought is universal. Will may be exer- 
 cised as often in the direction of evil as of good, 
 but thought, coming from the Universal Mind, 
 
 420
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 cannot lead to evil, for as it advances, good 
 arises, on and on without end, so that eventually 
 there must be no evil. Ah," he broke off, " I 
 see that you are still clinging to some of the pre- 
 cautions of the past. You are hungry and yet 
 you fear to eat. You must fear nothing. One 
 of these days you will be brought to realize that 
 there is no force, no power in matter over spirit. 
 What you have been taught to believe is inde- 
 structable matter does not really exist at all. A 
 part of it is always passing away a stone or a 
 piece of iron; and if it can pass, it never has 
 existed. It is an illusion. Matter having no life 
 can have no sensation. How often the short- 
 sighted say, ' Oh, but if I hold my finger in a 
 flame I shall suffer pain/ Now let us see if this 
 finger suffers. ' It does/ declares the material- 
 ist. ' The fire communicates with a nerve and 
 the nerve telegraphs to the brain and then we 
 experience sensation.' But how much of sensa- 
 tion has the brain? If it be the seat of all sen- 
 sation it must be charged with tenfold sensitive- 
 ness. This, however, is not true. A large part 
 of the brain may be removed with no great suf- 
 fering. Of itself it has no sensation. Then the 
 
 421
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 source of sensation must lie somewhere behind 
 the brain. What is behind the brain ? The mind ? 
 Let the anatomist find it. In this latter day Mrs. 
 Eddy is a greater discoverer than Columbus. She 
 rediscovered the almost lost world of truth. In 
 his day Plato came near a great discovery. But 
 his day was too early, for the revelation of the 
 truth the earth sojourn of Christ had not 
 taken place. Christ accented the truth of God's 
 Science. He and His disciples did not preach 
 sickness but health. Faith was supreme. But 
 man, struggling for material wealth, fell back 
 into the evil of mortal mind. And then for ages 
 the truth seemed to sleep. Men preached in the 
 name of Christ but could not quite forgive. They 
 did not seem able to emancipate themselves, to 
 reapply the principles once made so manifest by 
 the Great and True Scientist. But now there is 
 a revival. The sun so long obscured has come 
 out again, clear in the heavens. Men have be- 
 gun again to love one another. And, as this love 
 grows when Science shall have been spread 
 abroad throughout the world, nowhere can there 
 be war, famine or pestilence." 
 
 He talked for a long time and eagerly my mind 
 
 422
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 grasped his words ; and when he was done, I went 
 out into the glorious air of the world of God. 
 As yet not thoroughly acquainted with my re- 
 generation, I sometimes caught myself wonder- 
 ing if this were the same existence in which I 
 had suffered so much in which my earth pas- 
 sions had so weakened and debased me. But it 
 was true, all of this great and merciful change, 
 and in my heart there was a prayer, a sweet 
 chant, and the music of it seemed to fill the world. 
 Hitherto the moments which I had fancied were 
 happy were hysterical, beset with unhealthful 
 emotions, but now my joy was quiet, like an un- 
 wavering, an undazzling light. 
 
 423
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 NO DREAD NO FEAR. 
 
 The next day was Sunday and we went to 
 church Mr. Haines, Mrs. Haines and I; and it 
 was with a new and sweetly quiet emotion that 
 I entered the great hall and looked about me. 
 Surely I had never before seen so many happy 
 countenances gold, refined of all dross. The 
 place was full to overflowing, and there were no 
 outbursts of impassioned speech to grapple atten- 
 tion but there were words deep with the mean- 
 ing of truth, music, and what was sweeter than 
 all music, the silent prayer of that multitude. Ev- 
 ery one was here for a purpose. Every one had ac- 
 complished something. No one was engaged in 
 the world-man's endless task, the rolling of the 
 Sysiphean rock of fevered life. Every face was 
 bright with purity and a clear aim. And 
 what a reunion when the services had been con- 
 cluded! It was as the early following of Christ 
 must have been, each one thankful to meet the 
 
 424
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 other. It was a family of brothers and sisters, 
 not waiting for formal introduction but divining 
 one another at sight. I shook hundreds of hands, 
 it appeared to me, and I was thankfully con- 
 scious that any eye could see in my countenance 
 the unmistakable message of redemption. I was 
 not moved to say, " I am one of you." They all 
 of them knew, saw, felt that I had been healed 
 and regenerated by Science. In even the coun- 
 try where people are most sociable the church 
 has set itself to cool and formal ways, the preach- 
 er himself an example of restraint. Neighbors 
 meet of a Sunday, utter a few stilted and mean- 
 ingless words and separate without a warming 
 throb. But how different here among these 
 Scientists, these children of the truth. Surely 
 they have brought back the manner-charm of a 
 former age. 
 
 The day was aglow. Strengthening breezes 
 blew from the lake. We decided to walk home. 
 Just as we reached the street a young man came 
 toward us. He shook hands with Mr. and Mrs. 
 Haines, and then with delightful frankness he 
 held out his hand to me; and so, we were ac- 
 
 425
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 quainted even before Mrs. Haines introduced 
 him Herbert Carroll. 
 
 " I am going home with you," he said to my 
 hostess. 
 
 ' You are always welcome, Herbert," she re- 
 plied. 
 
 ' Thank you. And I am going to walk with 
 our new sister," he said. 
 
 " How do you know I am a new sister ? " I 
 asked, walking along with him. " Has any one 
 told you?" 
 
 " Oh, it was not necessary to be told. I could 
 see that your habiliments were freshly made and 
 that you wore them with the grace and the 
 charm of novelty." 
 
 " Elinor," said Mrs. Haines, looking back, 
 " you must expect such talk from our friend. He 
 has not been long out of the University of Chi- 
 cago." 
 
 " And had it not been for her, Miss Dawson," 
 said he, " my degree would have been on stone 
 rather than sheep-skin. When all others had 
 given me up she came with the light and the 
 truth." 
 
 " Then we are brother and sister," I made re- 
 
 426
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 ply. " I had also been given up. Mortal effort 
 declared its weakness and put me on a cot to 
 die." 
 
 He took my hand, this stranger this brother, 
 and for a time we walked along as two children, 
 coming home from school in silence, and in that 
 silence two spirits flew across the world and 
 tipped each other with their wings flew across 
 a thousand years, through thunder clouds and 
 over oceans gnarled with storms, out into the 
 sunshine and the blessed calm of a God-favored 
 day. 
 
 When he spoke again his voice was softer as 
 if a strain of music had become so low as to 
 whisper that it was not quite silence. " I knew 
 when I looked at you, as you came up the aisle 
 from your silent prayer," he said " I knew that 
 your spirit had just drunk of the dews of the 
 morning." 
 
 " Ah," I replied, " but when I have told you of 
 the black night you you " 
 
 Again he touched my hand touched me to 
 silence. " When the sun has arisen, the black 
 night has never existed," he said. 
 
 How generous and how frank were his words. 
 427
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 The night was gone forever, had been a vision, 
 and with him I would believe that it had not 
 existed. I had found it an evil and it had van- 
 ished. It was but a shadow, and all shadows 
 must pass away. 
 
 I asked him to tell me of his cure, of the time 
 when the light like a golden lamp had. been 
 brought to him, and looking up I caught his 
 radiant smile. " In a game of foot-ball I had 
 received what they called a mortal hurt," he said. 
 " For days I was unconscious ; and to regain 
 consciousness was to be racked with misery so 
 blighting as to drive me again into mental noth- 
 ingness. My only hope was not to exist at all. 
 I have no parents and my uncle who was my 
 guardian was educating me. He was tied hand 
 and foot, by creed, of the church and of the medi- 
 cal school, being himself a physician. But his 
 wife had, through reason rather than by the heal- 
 ing of disease, embraced Christian Science. 
 While in the East she had seen Mrs. Eddy and 
 had talked with her ; so, when all of the old meth- 
 ods and many that were thought to be new had 
 failed, she requested Mrs. Haines to visit me. 
 You know the rest. No, not all. Before receiv- 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 ing the hurt I was inconsiderate, wild you might 
 say. In life I saw no object except to follow the 
 lines which I believed must lead to enjoyment. 
 I frequently drank to excess, and gambling held 
 for me a devouring fascination. But when I was 
 healed, the evils of drink and gambling did not 
 exist." 
 
 " You are indeed my brother," I said, and now 
 I took his hand and as before we walked along 
 in silence. 
 
 How short the distance seemed and how strong 
 I felt when we reached home. Ah, it was a 
 home, and how few there are in this great 
 muddle of selfish men and idle, aimless women. 
 In the parlor we had music rest ; and at the din- 
 ing table we talked Science, that never old sub- 
 ject. 
 
 " Our little sister is going to write," said Mr. 
 Haines. " She smiles at the idea, but you ob- 
 serve that she doesn't frown at it. Yes, she is 
 going to write the story of her life, telling the 
 truth at all times, in the hope that it may do 
 good. She is going to give every phase of her 
 mortal mind, so that others groping along the 
 brambly path may take heart." 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " But I must do some work first," I replied. 
 " I have a trade." 
 
 " Yes, you must work," he rejoined, " but it 
 must be the work for which you are best fitted 
 the work that will benefit the world the most; 
 and so, tomorrow or the day afterward, you are 
 going to write a short story for a magazine or 
 perhaps for a school book. And mind you, it 
 will be paid for. Now don't say that you have 
 had no training. To have felt is the greatest 
 of all training. My wife says that you are des- 
 tined to write and we must not dispute her word." 
 
 Mrs. Haines reached over and gently placed 
 her hand on mine. " Work when you feel dis- 
 posed, my dear," she said. " But don't think 
 that you are compelled to work in order to dis- 
 charge any obligation you may feel toward me. 
 I know that you will do exactly what is right." 
 
 " And," Herbert Carroll remarked, " you will 
 find that every one of your faculties has been 
 brightened and strengthened. Yesterday I met 
 an old man who for many years had been a buyer 
 for a wholesale clothing house. But a few 
 months ago he was told that he had lived beyond 
 the time of serviceable judgment, and conse- 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 quently, while not actually dismissed, he was re- 
 duced to a position of mere drudgery. To look 
 with complacency upon the eternal loss of useful- 
 ness requires more of philosophy than is possessed 
 by the most of men. It is harder than to resign 
 oneself to actual death. And so, this man de- 
 cided that it was better for him to die. He made 
 an unsuccessful attempt upon his life. It was 
 then that Science found him. And now? He 
 has been reinstated, not as a propitiation but be- 
 cause his usefulness has returned. Ah, there is 
 not only a fountain of health but of youth. It is 
 Science." 
 
 How earnest he was, and how handsome, his 
 dark eyes aglow; and as I looked upon him I 
 thought that surely he was superior to any man 
 I had ever known. He was strong, an athlete, 
 and withal a man of thought, modestly spoken 
 and with the spirit of good humor making 
 play-ground of his countenance. It was a quiet 
 and a refined delight to study him, to note the 
 inflections of his voice and the illustrative graces 
 of his manner. His education had been so thor- 
 ough as now to pass into the unconsciousness 
 of strength. He knew so well the force of words 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 that for the most part he talked in " simples," and 
 never with the studied repression, the modifying 
 " paleness," breathed out upon the air of so many 
 of the great universities. Upon him he bore the 
 mark of no profession, which Johnson thought 
 was the true test of a perfect gentleman, and I 
 was for once constrained to believe Johnson right, 
 this blunt-sighted definer, this hippopotamus of 
 literature ; but I knew that Carroll was not afraid 
 of a mark, of the pick, the shovel that he would 
 do day labor rather than to be a useless walker 
 on the busy earth. Between him and me there 
 were none of the restraints of forced modesty. 
 And why should there have been? Had not our 
 spirits flown across the ancient skies and touched 
 wings in today's empyrean? Had he come to me 
 as a reward for all that I had falsely suffered? 
 No, for why should the false be rewarded? He 
 had come simply as the truth, as a kinsman of 
 the heart, and even his regard was more of 
 worth than all of the earth-love that had ever 
 been vowed for me. He asked me if I should 
 like to go out for a walk, and he saw my answer 
 before I had uttered it. 
 
 " Had Mrs. Haines told you nothing of me ? " 
 
 43 2
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 I asked of him as we walked along beneath the 
 trees. 
 
 "Nothing whatever," he answered. " And 
 when I had seen you, there was naught to tell. 
 We might listen to a lecture on a star, but the 
 star does not exist for us until we have looked 
 upon it until with our eyes we have drunk its 
 rays." 
 
 I did not know how to reply to him, but I felt 
 that indeed there was much more to tell. He was 
 a man, on earth, and his interest in me entitled 
 him to my story, if the time now in the bud should 
 ripen; but I dreaded it, that sad ripening. And 
 then something seemed to whisper : " There 
 must be no dread, no fear." 
 
 433
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 LIGHT IN A DARK PLACE. 
 
 On the following day I went with Mrs. Haines 
 to visit some of her charges. I shall not forget 
 one, a woman, employed as house-keeper in a 
 prosperous family. For a time I was left alone 
 with this woman, and with a cheerfulness which 
 too many women have forgotten or have never 
 acquired, she began to talk of her newly awak- 
 ened ambition, which was, to be of use in the 
 world. " I didn't begin to live the true life un- 
 til a few months ago," she said. " Mrs. Haines 
 came to me in an hour that was dark and in a 
 place that was darker. Years ago my life was 
 given over to error. I lived in offense of all 
 morality on the bread of vice, and was decked 
 out with the glitters of what the world knows 
 as the vilest sin. You know what I mean." 
 
 " It is plain enough, and I am not here to cast 
 the first stone," I replied. 
 
 434
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 She smiled, and in the light radiated from her 
 own countenance, she was handsome. 
 
 " I could not look forward to an escape from 
 that life," she said. " I was not ignorant, hav- 
 ing been fairly well schooled in the country, but 
 the mark of the evil life was upon me, and there 
 appeared to be nothing that could wash away the 
 stain. Whenever the reformers persuaded a girl 
 to leave our abode we knew that she would soon 
 come back again, for you must understand that 
 the avowed gospel of the churches has never been 
 able to compel society to accept the once fallen 
 woman." 
 
 " Society does not weigh causes," said I. " The 
 gospel weighs and estimates, and prescribes a 
 cure the right gospel, but it is not the gospel 
 of studied declamation, of preachers dignified 
 out of all tenderness and love." 
 
 " That is true," she assented. " But as I was 
 saying, we all knew that the reformed one 
 would find her way back to us, with a sneer on 
 her lip. We knew that she would be driven 
 back, with bitterness in her heart and contempt 
 in her laughter the laughter of final despair. 
 We knew all of this, but we knew nothing of the 
 
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 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 real cure. But one day a girl left us and she 
 came back, it is true, not to live with us again 
 but to bring the message of a wonderful discov- 
 ery. Her face, her beaming spirit showed that 
 there had been a miraculous change. Her heart 
 was light and a gentle love for all humanity 
 shone from her eyes. I was ill at the time; the 
 doctors said that I had consumption. It was all 
 I could do to breathe. ' Oh, but you will soon be 
 well/ she said to me. ' You must know that dis- 
 ease is an evil and that in truth there is no evil. 
 Good does not wish that evil should exist. And 
 now, I am going to bring some one to see you.' 
 She did. Mrs. Haines came the next day. It 
 would be unnatural to suppose that I had very 
 much faith. I hadn't but I liked to hear Mrs. 
 Haines talk. Consumptives usually believe they 
 are going to get well. But not so with consump- 
 tives in a house of that sort. There, under the 
 constant lash of conscience, all disease seems 
 mortal. But it was not long before I could walk 
 about and breathe, ah, breathe. And within a 
 month I was healed. I came out of that place 
 not hating it but pitying it came out into the 
 new world, not afraid of society, of women, for 
 
 436
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 I knew that when truth should see me, truth 
 would know that I had been cured and was 
 sound. And when I went to the church of Christ, 
 Scientist, there was the warm, welcoming hand, 
 the kindly eye ; and in that silent prayer I thanked 
 God that I was alive and of use in this great 
 world. Ah, and nearly all of the inmates of that 
 house have come forth into the world of useful- 
 ness and purity. The other day I met one, the 
 handsomest but the most ignorant one among 
 us; and she told me that she was scrubbing 
 floors, thanking God for her happiness." 
 
 Mrs. Haines and the mistress of the house, an 
 old but bright woman, came into the room. " Ah, 
 Miss Evans has been telling you something," 
 said Mrs. Haines. 
 
 " Yes," I replied, " she has she has told me 
 of the solving of a problem that the philosophers 
 and the great moral statesmen have tried in vain 
 to solve the problem of the social evil." 
 
 " It is a dark spot that will pass away when 
 the sun of universal truth shall have thrown 
 its beams into forgotten corners," Mrs. Haines 
 rejoined. " My husband, as you know, believes 
 
 437
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 that Science will eventually settle all troublesome 
 questions." 
 
 " And best of all," said the mistress of the 
 house, laughing, " it has smoothed out the 
 wrinkles of old age. Five years ago my hus- 
 band and I awoke to the truth that we had not 
 passed beyond the days of our usefulness; and 
 since then we have been happier than ever be- 
 fore. The Bible and Science and Health have 
 been our constant companions." 
 
 When we had gone forth from the house I 
 said to Mrs. Haines : " My vision is constantly 
 broadening; and when I sit down to write, as 
 Mr. Haines has suggested, I shall feel that I am 
 to help some one. And, as he also remarked, 
 I am going to give every phase and every whim 
 of my mortal mind, thereby hoping to steal into 
 every woman's mood, and to make a confidant 
 of every heart." 
 
 We went to a number of places, finding con- 
 tentment and brightness everywhere. Ah, how 
 different was this new, this real world, from the 
 midnight dream-world that I had known, in 
 which I had suffered so much. And yet, here 
 were the same streets, the same buildings, the 
 
 438
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 same people, the most of them racing for some- 
 thing never to be caught the happiness of mere 
 matter. 
 
 On our way home we talked of many things, 
 all bearing upon Science, as all things of real 
 worth must bear upon it; and several times my 
 companion spoke of Herbert Carroll; and over 
 my being there flowed successive waves of quiet 
 pleasure waves of warming light, they were, 
 lifting my mind into a serener view of life and 
 of truth. Garbed in the raiment of modern 
 flesh we had met but once, it was true, but if we 
 cannot point to the end of mind association, who 
 can go back beyond the beginning ? 
 
 That night, alone in my room, near the win- 
 dow with the stars looking in upon me, I wrote 
 to my mother. With the truth my pen made free 
 use, as it is doing at this moment as I write to 
 you, troubled brother, dark-souled sister; and no 
 error of my own escaped from under a just and 
 proper emphasis. But I told her, and with the 
 strength that does not fear to be happy lest it 
 be a deception told her of my new birth into 
 the real world. " I have just begun to live," I 
 said, as all of us say, " and I find life full of kind- 
 
 439
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 liness, sweetness and love. ' Oh, for the ideal 
 life,' sighed one in the ancient day, bowing his 
 aged head upon his books, the work of his brain ; 
 but he passed on, without having found the true 
 life, as have passed thousands of others whom 
 the world looked upon as great. They lived upon 
 the verge of blessed truth without having em- 
 braced it. Then why should not I rejoice that I 
 live now, in this day of love this never ending, 
 eternal day ! Christ points out the way to health. 
 To many did he say, ' be thou well/ but to none, 
 1 be thou sick/ Out of the sepulchre he called 
 forth Lazarus, and out of the tomb of moral dis- 
 ease he called a woman. When from darkness we 
 come suddenly forth into the light of the sun we 
 are dazzled; and so, as the light is as yet com- 
 paratively new to me, I am not prepared to ex- 
 plain it. I should have termed my recovery 
 from disease and the slavery of opium as a mir- 
 acle. In the olden day it would have been deemed 
 such, but now it is known as a natural visitation, 
 the application not of a new but of an eternal 
 principle. And as such I must accept it." 
 
 Early the next morning I began to write, and 
 it seemed that for the first time all of my facul- 
 
 440
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 ties, memory, judgment of self, came into full 
 being. The years were as yesterdays, clear in 
 immediate view, and through them I could trace 
 my emotions. But at no time did I neglect my 
 study. Science, as a great principle; requires not 
 only faith, which makes one confident, but re- 
 search, which renders one wise. 
 
 In the evening Herbert Carroll came. With 
 him he brought the brightness and the broad- 
 spreading strength of the new world. Hitherto 
 there might have bloomed a flower, a sudden and 
 unexpected thought, but here was a whole forest 
 of verdure and of blossom. Sitting near the win- 
 dow in the soft air, in the light of the shaded 
 lamp, he told me of his former life, of what he 
 had believed, of the errors through which he had 
 passed. " With Hartman in his Philosophy of 
 the Unconscious," said he, " I believed that crea- 
 tion was a mistake of the Wise One, if there 
 were a Wise One, and that its constant sor- 
 row was but a groan over the lamentable fact 
 that it was an error that our disappointments 
 were the reflection of a repentance on the part of 
 the Creator. Death was better than life for death 
 was not an ephemeral trouble but an eternal non- 
 441
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 existence. Taking council with Annikeris, I 
 could believe that our only hope was for the ex- 
 tirpation of hope. Reason taught that epicurism 
 must end in misery. To be was to be wrong. 
 Pain was a threat of the only reality, being a 
 foretaste of death, the eternal condition. And as 
 death must come, I was determined to get as 
 much as possible out of life; and, seeking to get 
 much, I got nothing. I did not know that man 
 must be a part of the grand harmony of the uni- 
 verse. I could not conceive that this was not 
 essentially a world of sorrow. The ancients had 
 declared it and modern man had kept up the 
 echo. The greatest of all poets shed the luster 
 of a truth when he said that there was nothing 
 good or evil but that thinking made it so. Com- 
 mon sense which is the meditative genius of 
 after thought might have proved to me that in 
 this life thinking is everything that is. But it 
 did not. I was not prepared to think. The day 
 had not arrived. All physical power the rush- 
 ing of a railway engine, is but the expression of 
 a thought. And if so, how could that mighty 
 thought lie within the narrow cell of a mere 
 brain? 
 
 442
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 The hours died away, as music dies into sweet 
 silence. He did not speak a word of love, but 
 love was in his eyes and his voice; and when he 
 was gone I felt that never before had I known 
 the meaning of companionship of affection. 
 
 443
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 With the morrow there came a letter from my 
 mother. To her and to Samuel the light had 
 come. "For the first time in my life I am strong 
 and contented," she wrote. "My letters to you 
 had remained unanswered and I thought that you 
 must have gone abroad again, but still I could 
 not understand why you had not written to me. 
 One evening a neighbor came over with a news- 
 paper, and then my humiliation and my sorrow 
 almost smothered me. I begged him to let none 
 of the neighbors see it and he promised. And it 
 was kept dark from them. Still I was miserable 
 for I did not know what had become of you. You 
 know what I must have feared. I prayed at 
 church, but no comfort came. The truth was 
 that I didn't know how to pray. It was while I 
 was longing for release from this world of rusty 
 chains that Samuel, who had been at Wheeling, 
 came home with a message. About it there was 
 
 444
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 nothing fanatical, for you know that he is a man 
 of rare good sense. He told me of a meeting 
 which he had attended and of the thoughts that 
 had come into his life. Soon afterward I went 
 with him. We gathered up all the literature we 
 could get on the subject we went again to the 
 meeting; and then the truth dawned. And now, 
 we are not only happy but prosperous. Weak- 
 ness and indecision are diseases and we have 
 been cured of them. Vanity is a disease and I 
 have been healed of it. I long to see you again, 
 for I know you now. I know myself, which is 
 more, and I know the truth which is the most of 
 all." 
 
 It is midnight and Herbert has just left me. 
 In the heavens the stars are aglow and in my 
 heart the moon has arisen. We were sitting on 
 the sofa. He took my hands and from his elo- 
 quent heart the words of pure and undented love 
 flowed forth, to enrapture me to fill my being 
 with happiness. 
 
 " But you must know my sad story," I said to 
 him when he had asked me to be his wife. 
 
 445
 
 Merciful Unto Me, a Sinner 
 
 " I have not asked for your story but for your 
 love," he answered, kissing me. 
 
 " It is but just that I should tell you." 
 
 " But who am I to receive confessions ? " he 
 said. " It is I, rather, who ought to confess to 
 you." 
 
 " I know that you are generous but I owe it 
 to myself to tell you," said I, and I told him, and 
 about me he put his arms, and all the world was 
 filled with melody. And now it is midnight and 
 I am looking at the stars. In my heart his words 
 are echoing. Within a few days we shall go to 
 my old home, to play in the sunshine that falls 
 upon the slope of the hill. And then we shall 
 go to our new home, to work together, and to 
 live. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 446
 

 
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