,5" 3 .
 
 '
 
 OF CALIF. LIBRARY, LOS ANGELES
 
 'SO HELP ME! IT COST FOUR HUNDRED DOLLARS." PAGE Il6.
 
 MAGGIE 
 PEPPER 
 
 BY 
 
 CHARLES KLEIN 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 THE MUSIC MASTER 
 
 THE LION AND THE MOUSE 
 
 i 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP 
 
 PUBLISHERS : : : i NEW YORK
 
 COPYRIGHT. 1911, BY 
 THE H. K. FLY COMPANY
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I AGENT OF DESTINY 7 
 
 II SPORT JOSEPH AT HOME 18 
 
 III JAKE DISCOURSES 31 
 
 IV AT HOLBROOKE AND COMPANY'S 43 
 
 V MAGGIE PEPPER 55 
 
 VI THE STRANGE GENTLEMAN 69 
 
 VII STEPS TO TROUBLE 86 
 
 VIII ADA DARKIN 98 
 
 IX PER J. H 112 
 
 X THE NEW BUYER 123 
 
 XI MAGGIE IN THE MAKING 132 
 
 XII SCANDAL 146 
 
 XIII JAKE'S GIFT 158 
 
 XIV DARKIN'S ENTRANCE 167 
 
 XV PLOTTINGS 179 
 
 XVI MAGGIE RESIGNS 193 
 
 XVII JAKE'S PASSING 201 
 
 XVIII A MOTHER'S PENITENCE 214 
 
 21,30681
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER FACE 
 
 XIX EXPLOSION ! 227 
 
 XX LOVERS AT ODDS 238 
 
 XXI BY FORCE OF ARMS 259 
 
 XXII THE PERSISTENT INVALID 267 
 
 XXIII NEW PERIL 284 
 
 XXIV AN INVITATION FOR THE MARQUIS 300
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PAGB 
 
 "So help me! it cost four hundred dollars" Frontispiece 
 
 "What is it that has taken the heart out of you ?" 79 
 
 "I'm going to try and make myself worthy of you both" 225 
 
 ' I shall not leave here, Margaret, until you have consented 
 
 to be my wife" 279
 
 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 AGENT OF DESTINY 
 
 IT was the Marquis de Brensac who turned Hol- 
 brooke and Company, of New York, topsy-turvy. This, 
 too, despite the fact that the excellent nobleman had 
 never heard of the great department store at the time of 
 his exploit. For that matter, the marquis would have 
 been horrified by the bare suggestion of trade in con- 
 nection with his most aristocratic self. It so came 
 about, however, that, without any volition on his part, 
 he served as the instrument of destiny in those stirring 
 events that recently befell the old-established house of 
 Holbrooke. 
 
 Joseph Holbrooke, chief owner of the great establish- 
 ment by inheritance met de Brensac twice in France. 
 Because of those meetings, the young man altered the 
 whole course of his life. The change on his part begot 
 
 7
 
 8 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 history for the firm. Better still, it won happiness for 
 himself. . . . But that is the story to be told. 
 
 Joseph found Europe very gay during the year he 
 spent there soon after coming into his inheritance. As 
 to that, Europe is likely to be gay for one who is 
 willing to spend a million of dollars on it within a 
 twelvemonth. Rumor had it that "Le Sport Joseph," 
 as he was genially called by his cronies in Paris, had 
 already lavished this considerable amount of money in 
 his brief career abroad. Doubtless, the truth was ex- 
 aggerated somewhat, after the common fashion. 
 Joseph himself amusedly denied the gossip concerning 
 his extravagance. Yet, there was a hint of wryness 
 in his smile, for the estimate was close very close. 
 Being at bottom a wholesome young man of much 
 natural shrewdness, he was inclined to be a bit ashamed 
 of this over-costly pleasuring. The riotous impulse of 
 youth led him to extravagances in the pursuit of gayety. 
 It was not viciousness that drove him on: only the 
 desire to experience in its fulness the best of everything 
 from a new environment. He craved variety : he pur- 
 chased it lavishly. But, in the end, he began to think 
 that much of his expenditure was merely absurd. In 
 other words, his good sense began to carp against aim-
 
 AGENT OF DESTINY. 9 
 
 less prodigality. The novelty in this life of leisure as 
 his own master, with great wealth at his command, 
 was wearing away swiftly; in its stead came a growing 
 weariness. The red blood that was his from a long 
 line of vigorous American workers pulsed with subtle 
 dissatisfaction, which he could not understand pre- 
 cisely, although he felt it more and more. Most of 
 those with whom he now hobnobbed had blood of the 
 bluest, in which was no discontent with conditions so 
 increasingly irksome to himself. Being little inclined 
 to analysis or introspection, Joseph did not know just 
 wherein lay the trouble, but he was in a mood for 
 change. ... It was the marquis who set light flaring 
 on a new path. 
 
 The Norla, a floating palace of renown, had been 
 hired by Joseph because it chanced to be the most ex- 
 pensive on the market at the moment when he was 
 seized with a fancy to roam the sea in his own yacht. 
 After some weeks of languid cruising in the Mediterra- 
 nean, anchor was dropped one morning just off San 
 Raphael. It was then that the American was pleased 
 to remember the Marquis de Brensac, who had an 
 estate in the neighborhood. On the one occasion of 
 meeting the nobleman, at a supper party in Paris two 
 months before, Joseph had been attracted particularly
 
 io MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 by the man's personality. Although barely thirty years 
 of age, the marquis displayed in face and form a 
 certain seriousness uncommon among those with whom 
 Joseph was wont to foregather. Listless at the mo- 
 ment, by reason of the likeness this entertainment bore 
 to countless others, the American manoeuvred to get a 
 chair beside de Brensac when the period of formality 
 was ended. A pleasant conversation between the two 
 followed. Something in the younger man's unjaded 
 outlook on life appealed to the elder. Before they 
 separated, the marquis explained that he was about to 
 withdraw to his estate on the Riviera, and he extended 
 to Joseph a very cordial invitation to visit him there, 
 at any time. 
 
 So, now, the invitation was remembered. The 
 American determined to visit the marquis forthwith. 
 Anticipations of the visit proved pleasurable; he hur- 
 ried his preparations. Two hours after the arrival of 
 The Norla off-shore, he was sitting at ease in the 
 library of the old castle, chatting contentedly with its 
 lord. He was prevailed on, with no great difficulty, 
 to remain for dinner. 
 
 It was while the two lingered, smoking, over their 
 coffee and cordials, that the conversation took a serious 
 turn which resulted in the topsy-turvying of Hoi-
 
 AGENT OF DESTINY 1 1 
 
 brooke and Company, in New York. The talk had 
 grown somewhat intimate, for there was instinctively 
 a real sympathy of feeling between the two, sufficient 
 for quick friendship, notwithstanding the differences of 
 birth and training. An honest curiosity led Joseph to 
 reveal something of the unrest in his own spirit by a 
 question he put to his host. 
 
 "But don't you ever tire of it all?" he demanded. 
 "Don't you get horribly bored just living this life of 
 leisure: social functions at the best, dissipation at the 
 worst? Of course, I understand that it's an art over 
 here. We haven't learned the same sort of thing in 
 our country yet. We're too young. . . . And you do 
 know how to live beautifully, making just the right 
 round of things all the time, and how to build a science 
 out of it, as well as an art. . . . But, when all's said 
 and done, don't you get frightfully weary of it, pretty 
 often? You don't mind my asking, I hope? You see, 
 somehow, you seem a bit more thoughtful than most 
 of the chaps I've met in going about." 
 
 "The trouble is," the marquis answered readily, 
 smiling a little, "the chaps you meet most in 'going 
 about/ as you put it, are the ones that devote them- 
 selves to social pleasures as the chief thing in life. 
 Now, in spite of the contrary reports concerning us
 
 12 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 current in your country, we have only about the pro- 
 portion of this sort that you have at home among the 
 children of wealthy parents. The larger part of us by 
 far " He paused, and shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "Well, then, the larger part of you ?" Joseph 
 
 urged. 
 
 "Why, it may sound a bit conceited to you," the 
 Frenchman continued, with some slight trace of embar- 
 rassment, "but the fact is, most of us are better than 
 that. It's a matter of noblesse oblige, you know. In 
 nearly all of our old families, there's a tradition con- 
 cerning some kind of excellence. A very few, I 
 confess, do seem to take pride in excellent deviltry : but 
 the bulk cherish something worth while. Each of us 
 tries to live up to his family specialty, so to speak. It 
 may be in arms, or in education, or in statesmanship, 
 or in letters, or in science anything that counts for 
 the good of the world. Always, there is something 
 which is the pride of the race. That is our stimulation. 
 We try to live up to the mark set by our ancestors. 
 We even endeavor to excel it, if possible, which means 
 work hard work, and plenty of it. If I may be 
 permitted to refer to myself without egotism: I take 
 two months in Paris, during the season. For the other
 
 AGENT OF DESTINY 13 
 
 ten months, I avoid society, save only the little oblig- 
 atory on me here, and I work steadily." 
 
 Joseph's clean-cut face was aglow. 
 
 "Bless my heart !" he exclaimed. "Why, I had no 
 idea of it. You're the only one of the kind that I've 
 met." 
 
 The marquis's lips twitched very slightly; but he 
 courteously refrained from offering a frank expla- 
 nation. 
 
 "It was a fortunate chance that led me to accept the 
 invitation of my cousin to the supper at which you 
 also were a guest," he said suavely. "I do not often 
 attend affairs of the sort. They are, doubtless, admir- 
 able for relaxation on occasion, but they are likely to 
 interfere with more serious pursuits." This was as 
 much as courtesy would permit him to say on the 
 subject. 
 
 "Tell me, please," Joseph requested, with his clear 
 gray eyes fixed earnestly on the nobleman, "what is 
 the line of work that is your own?" 
 
 The marquis smiled openly. 
 
 "If you were French," he replied, assuming a manner 
 of pride that became him well, "you would hardly need 
 to ask the question. For generations, the house of 
 Brensac has been famous for its historians. Each
 
 14 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 head in turn has added something to the reputation of 
 the family in this regard. Others of our blood have 
 helped as well. I have tried to follow as best I might 
 in the path they trod. Thus, you see, I am an heredi- 
 tary historian." 
 
 Joseph stared silently at his host. In his expression, 
 astonishment mingled with admiration. He was at 
 once impressed and gratified by this revelation that 
 was so suddenly come to him concerning a seriousness 
 of which he had not dreamed in the life about him. To 
 be sure, it flashed on him that a life devoted to poring 
 over the musty archives of the past might well prove 
 deadly dull. His own red blood rebelled against the 
 idea of such tedious toil year in and year out for him- 
 self, however well it might fit the nature of the blue- 
 blooded marquis. Yet, after all, the character of the 
 individual work mattered little, if any. What loomed 
 important was the fact that some of these elegant 
 gentlemen of the old regime, whom he had consistently 
 regarded as wholly frivolous and essentially worthless 
 in the utilitarian scheme of things, were in fact sternly 
 devoted to ideals of duty. Joseph looked on the noble- 
 man before him with new respect, where hitherto had 
 been no more than casual liking. This handsome, 
 aristocratic person of especially polished manners, en-
 
 AGENT OF DESTINY 15 
 
 countered at one of those roystering suppers in Paris 
 where the food is too good, and the wines too plentiful, 
 and the conversation too decadent tliis man was 
 striving his best to do the work to which he felt himself 
 called by the obligation of race. The Marquis de Bren- 
 sac was an hereditary historian. 
 
 Of a sudden, Joseph felt a pang of penetrant, fierce 
 envy, followed by a fervid disgust for his own useless- 
 ness in the world. Then, in the next moment, thought 
 crystallized in his brain. The vague unrest in him was 
 interpreted: it shifted into purpose. In the shock of 
 surprise, he cried out sharply, to the vast astonishment 
 of his host. For a long second, panoramic vision 
 swept before him. He saw the great store, the seeming 
 jumble of multitudinous activities, all ordered to per- 
 fection, the crowded aisles, the army of employees, the 
 profusion of rich goods in every guise. He beheld 
 the tremendous structure reared by two generations of 
 his blood, the thing that was his inheritance his ! 
 
 "Why, good Lord !" he ejaculated vehemently. The 
 marquis raised inquiring eyebrows. "Just look at me, 
 if you please," the American went on, with even greater 
 emphasis. "I, sir I am an hereditary shopkeeper! 
 Now, what do you think of that?" He spoke with a
 
 i6 
 
 certain levity ; yet, underneath it was a new realization 
 of himself one that solved perplexities. 
 
 The historian shrugged his shoulders, doubtfully. 
 Always, it was quite impossible to understand these 
 mad Americans. The present guest was no exception, 
 although otherwise far superior to most of his country- 
 men. A scrutiny of the young man suggested no clue 
 in explanation of such extraordinary behavior. His 
 expression was half-whimsical, half-resolute : it did not 
 reveal a reason for so great excitement. This was a 
 democratic age, the marquis reflected sadly, but a shop- 
 keeper ugh! Despite his habitual politeness, the 
 host showed a trace of disdain in a second shrug. 
 Then, he mastered himself once again, and regained his 
 mental poise. The American was undeniably a gentle- 
 man, though sprung of a line of merchant princes, as 
 gossip told. The false pride that apes humility led him 
 to speak thus disparagingly of himself. The marquis 
 shrugged his shoulders for a third time. 
 
 Joseph observed the third shrug with attention, 
 understood it, answered it succinctly. 
 
 "It amounts to just that," he declared, firmly. "Yes, 
 I'm an hereditary shopkeeper. My father kept a shop 
 mighty well, too ! My grandfather before him kept 
 a shop. It was a good one for its day. I guess that's
 
 AGENT OF DESTINY 17 
 
 about as far back as we amount to much. . . . Pride 
 of race family tradition noblesse oblige! By Jove, 
 marquis, you've hit the nail on the head. You're the 
 hereditary historian. Well, I'm the hereditary shop- 
 keeper. That's what's the matter with me. I've no 
 earthly business fooling around over here. My place 
 is over there in the shop. Noblesse oblige certainly !" 
 De Brensac smiled as amiably as he could, but with- 
 out enthusiasm. Trade of any sort remained something 
 infinitely below his consideration. He did his best to 
 appear sympathetic, for he liked the young American. 
 His voice was, however, undeniably dismal as he 
 repeated the phrase inanely : 
 
 "Ah, yes, quite so, monsieur noblesse oblige" 
 "Yes, sir," Joseph declared. There was the earnest- 
 ness of profound conviction in his tone. "I must get 
 busy with the traditions of my blood." He stood up 
 abruptly, drawn to his full six feet of height, his 
 shoulders squared. "I think I'll just say good-bye, 
 marquis. You see," he laughed softly, "I must hurry 
 home now to the shop !"
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 SPORT JOSEPH AT HOME 
 
 JOSEPH HOLBROOKE lost no time in carrying out 
 the plan so hastily envolved from his conversation 
 with the Marquis de Brensac. Three days after his 
 visit at the castle, he sailed from Liverpool for New 
 York. 
 
 It must be confessed that on the voyage the young 
 man found himself often sadly beset with doubts as 
 to the wisdom of his course. His resolution remained 
 unshaken, but his intelligence was sufficient to array 
 before him the multitudinous difficulties with which 
 he would be confronted. He was well aware that his 
 university training would serve him not at all in the 
 new situation. His education had been excellent of 
 its kind, but it had never touched on business affairs. 
 Of these, any office-boy knew much more than Joseph 
 suspected. Thus, at the outset, he must be grievous- 
 ly handicapped by ignorance. The fact was frank- 
 ly admitted, it was regretted as well; but undue im- 
 portance was not given to it. At the worst, it could 
 
 18
 
 SPORT JOSEPH AT HOME 19 
 
 cause nothing more disastrous than delay in the ac- 
 complishment of his hereditary task. He would de- 
 vote himself diligently to mastering all details of the 
 business that had come to him by inheritance, its 
 subtleties, its policies, its ambitions. Then, he would 
 carry it forward to magnificent achievement, to a suc- 
 cess beyond that wrought by even his father. Such 
 was the duty that was his by reason of his blood; he 
 would fulfill it scrupulously. . . Noblesse oblige! 
 
 Yet, there was much more in Joseph's heart than a 
 stark desire to follow a family tradition. The young 
 gentleman of leisure, who had grown weary of frivoli- 
 ties, now found himself eagerly anticipating the new 
 activities. His handsome face took on an air of grav- 
 it}'-; he moved more sedately. He was abruptly 
 metamorphosed into the man of affairs, and uncon- 
 sciously betrayed the unaccustomed dignity by a 
 changed bearing, although, as yet, he could not have 
 told the difference between a balance-sheet and an 
 inventory. In short, he was all agog with interest 
 for the future work, and happier than ever before in 
 his life. He was so very busy with imaginations, 
 speculations and ambitions concerning the business 
 that he had little time for thought of Ethel Hargen, 
 the girl to whom he was engaged. He had been
 
 20 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 mindful to cable her of his sailing; then he had dis- 
 missed her from his mind, if not his heart, although 
 there had been a full year of separation. If he gave 
 her any heed at all, it was to include as a matter of 
 course her gratification over the change in him. Her 
 uncle, of whom she was very fond, had been an active 
 man of business all his life; he was, in fact, the Com- 
 pany of the Holbrooke firm, and managed the con- 
 cern. Naturally, Ethel would be delighted to have 
 her husband similarly energetic in the world of affairs. 
 Joseph's first disillusionment came the evening of 
 his arrival in New York, when he was tete-a-tete with 
 Ethel in the drawing-room of the Hargen mansion. 
 The usual raptures of lovers' greetings were past; 
 there came a little silence between the two, in which 
 Joseph contemplated the beautiful face of the girl 
 with esthetic satisfaction, if without exceeding ardor. 
 He admired intensely the warm pallor of the oval 
 face, with the curving lips of scarlet, with the long, 
 black lashes that now veiled the deep brown of the 
 eyes. His glance wandered contentedly over the 
 lithe slenderness of her form, curving, seductively in 
 the throne-like chair that was her favorite. Then, 
 his thoughts went again to the new purpose on
 
 which he was determined, and he opened his lips to 
 proclaim the splendid truth to her. 
 
 Ethel, however, forestalled him. There was an 
 ominous tightening of the charming lips; a note of 
 hardness sounded in the low, musical voice. 
 
 "There have been such horrid reports about you, 
 Joe," she declared, crisply. She flashed him a sudden 
 glance from widened eyes. "I hope I'm not a prude, 
 but, really well, perhaps, you've been overdoing 
 things rather on the other side." There was a gloss 
 of amiability in her manner of reproof, but more than 
 a hint of tartness lay underneath. 
 
 "Why, I fancy I have been a little frisky," Joseph 
 admitted, cheerfully. "I was out for a bit of a fling 
 before settling down, and I guess I had it." 
 
 "I guess you did!" Ethel ejaculated. The tartness 
 was quite undisguised now. "It was, naturally, 
 rather unpleasant for me." 
 
 "Oh, see here," the lover expostulated; "there 
 never was anything to bother you not actually, 
 you know. There never was any scandal, or any- 
 thing like that. Of course, the newspaper gossip 
 chaffed me a bit now and then. But there was never 
 a word of er of women and all that sort of 
 thing, nothing for you to fret over."
 
 22 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 The set expression of the girl's face did not soften. 
 
 "It was very annoying," she declared, coldly. 
 "There were cables about this and that your follies 
 they were called. And there were any number of 
 pages in the dreadful Sunday supplements, which 
 everybody read, of course, and talked about to me. 
 There has been no danger of my forgetting you for 
 a day. There has always been somebody to remind 
 me of just the kind of thing that you were doing." 
 
 "I'm mighty sorry that you were troubled in any 
 way," the young man answered, with obvious sincer- 
 ity. "Somehow, I never thought of that part of it. 
 I didn't think I was important enough to stir up 
 matters over here to such an extent. Forgive me, 
 dear. I promise you I won't do it again." He was 
 really contrite, for his own conscience justified the 
 girl's accusation. 
 
 Ethel, however, was disinclined to absolve him 
 from his sins quite so readily. Her severity of man- 
 ner did not relax in response to his plea. 
 
 "You were so absurdly extravagant !" she went on, 
 petulantly. "There was a quotation from one of the 
 Paris papers, which told how they called you, 'Le 
 Sport' Joseph. Such a stupid name!"
 
 SPORT JOSEPH AT HOME 23 
 
 "Well, anyhow, I didn't invent it," the badgered 
 lover retorted. 
 
 "You were the cause of it by your conduct," came 
 the logical answer, delivered with finality. "And that 
 same paper made a calculation as to how much money 
 you had spent in the year. It was a million dollars! 
 Think of it a million dollars, wasted!" 
 
 "It wasn't a million dollars," Joseph protested. 
 But his tone was unconvincingly feeble, for he re- 
 membered that the estimate had been close very 
 close! to the truth. "Anyhow," he went on sulk- 
 ily, "it was my money, so why shouldn't I blow in a 
 bit of it, once in a way?" 
 
 There was scorn in the girl's dusky eyes as she re- 
 garded the speaker. 
 
 "A bit of it!" she exclaimed. "Why, uncle said 
 that such enormous expenditure on your part actual- 
 ly crippled the business of the firm." 
 
 The young man was, at last, aroused to anger. 
 Hitherto, justice had been against his defense; now, 
 however, the accusation had become unfair. It was 
 a relief to speak in his own behalf with honest wrath. 
 
 "Now, see here, Ethel," he commanded hotly; 
 "you're talking utter nonsense! What I've spent has 
 nothing to do with the finances of the firm noth-
 
 24 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 ing whatever. You ought to have sense enough to 
 know that. Anyhow, your uncle has. You've simply 
 twisted something the old gentleman said. I fancy 
 he said enough. But don't get things mixed again 
 in that way, my dear. I can go out and spend a few 
 more millions if I like without touching the firm's 
 money." 
 
 The explosion did Joseph's wounded feelings a vast 
 deal of good. In another moment, he had recovered 
 his usual good-nature. The association of ideas re- 
 called to him his delayed purpose of explanation to 
 Ethel concerning entrance on a business career. 
 Forthwith, he addressed her gayly, proudly. 
 
 "Dearest," he began in a tender voice, "I have 
 some good news for you, something that will make 
 you very, very happy." 
 
 The girl sprang up eagerly, her mood of criticism 
 all dispelled in the twinkling of an eye. She came 
 close to his chair, and stood looking down on him 
 with radiant eyes. Her pliant body was tense in 
 expectancy; her lips bent to a winsome smile. 
 
 "Oh, what is it?" she questioned. Her voice was 
 a caress. "Tell me, please, Joe." Undoubtedly, it 
 was something gorgeous from the rue de la Paix. 
 Her imagination hurried fondly over marvels in dia-
 
 SPORT JOSEPH AT HOME 25 
 
 monds, rubies, emeralds, pearls. Her betrothed must 
 have bought for her something" peculiarly sumptuous 
 to offset that senseless expenditure of a million. 
 
 "Why, it's this way," the ill-fated lover explained. 
 He, too, stood up. He took Ethel's hands in his 
 and pressed them. His form was held bravely erect, 
 as that of one about to do battle with the world and 
 to conquer it. There was something almost pompous 
 now in his tones as he ventured the momentous state- 
 ment of his resolve. "I have decided to engage ac- 
 tively in the business which I have inherited from 
 my father." 
 
 For an interval of seconds, the girl stared uncom- 
 prehendingly into the young man's animated face. 
 Then, she snapped a single word: 
 
 "What?" 
 
 Joseph repeated his declaration, slowly, emphati- 
 cally. He was not astonished or distressed in any 
 way by her evident dismay in the face of this informa- 
 tion. The shock of a fact so stupendous might well 
 startle and alarm a maiden utterly unprepared. But, 
 presently, he became doubtful as to the correctness 
 of his idea in this instance. He perceived with grow- 
 ing consternation that his fiancee's face had hardened. 
 She pulled her hands from his clasp, and returned to
 
 2 6 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 her chair, where she cast herself down with a flounc- 
 ing movement that was significant. Sadly puzzled, 
 the lover resumed his seat, whence he stared re- 
 proachfully. 
 
 "Now, Ethel," he coaxed, "please don't" 
 
 The girl did not scruple to interrupt rudely. 
 
 "Joseph Holbrooke," she stormed, her eyes gleam- 
 ing dangerously, "whatever put such a silly notion 
 into that foolish head of yours? The idea going 
 into business, indeed you! Pooh!" The sole of 
 her golden slipper was beating a tattoo of temper on 
 the rug. 
 
 Naturally enough, these pointed remarks were not 
 gratifying to a young gentleman who usually enjoyed 
 a good conceit of himself. He stiffened in his chair; 
 he thrust his chin forward a little, belligerently; he 
 drew his brows in a frown. For once, Joseph was 
 deeply displeased with the girl whom he loved. He 
 could endure tantrums in an easy-going fashion all 
 his own; but this fault in her now was something 
 fundamental. It was painfully evident that she had 
 no appreciation whatsoever of the grave responsibili- 
 ties laid upon him by his blood. She was totally un- 
 sympathetic with the duty that had come to him 
 by inheritance. He forgot the recentness of his own
 
 SPORT JOSEPH AT HOME 27 
 
 awakening under the words of the Marquis de 
 Brensac, and he blamed Ethel with unreasoning 
 violence. 
 
 "Your remarks show a deplorable lack of interest 
 in the really important things of life," he said, sharp- 
 ly. "I have spoken to you as to my plans. I mean 
 to attend to my duties. I shall take them up at once. 
 Your failure to respect my purpose will make no dif- 
 ference in my carrying it out. But, perhaps, if you 
 think me so entirely incompetent, it would be bet- 
 ter" 
 
 Ethel Hargen was wise in her own way, although 
 on occasion indiscreet. Moreover, Joseph Holbrooke 
 was too good a parti to be thrown away for a mo- 
 ment's whim. She had no intention of letting him 
 complete a sentence that might be so offensive to her 
 dignity as to require the breaking of their engage- 
 ment. So, now, she interrupted swiftly, with an amaz- 
 ing change of manner. Her scarlet lips were allur- 
 ing; her eyes were softly luminous; her voice was win- 
 ning. 
 
 "Oh, Joe, why are you always turning me upside 
 down with so many moods? Good gracious! You 
 gallivant about Europe in a blaze of glory. Then, 
 the first time I see you in a year, you scare me half
 
 28 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 to death by telling me that you're going down to 
 run the store. Sympathetic! Of course, I'm not 
 sympathetic. I'm too much up in the air. Explain 
 it all to me slowly, until I catch my breath. It's 
 such a strange idea: you, in business!" The words 
 were much like those she had spoken before, but now 
 the inflection took all harm from them. 
 
 Joseph, being at heart a rather guileless youth, 
 ceased to disapprove so earnestly. Probably, he had 
 misjudged the girl, after all. It was the duty of his 
 superior intelligence to enlighten her with patience. 
 ... He did so, at some length. 
 
 When, finally, he ceased speaking, Ethel nodded 
 brightly. 
 
 "I quite understand," she declared, and her tone 
 was very fond. "I think it is noble of you, Joe." 
 This was so agreeable to hear that the lover went to 
 her, and kissed her, gratefully. He was well content 
 with all things as he returned again to his chair. "Of 
 course, you must go slowly at first." 
 
 "Never fear!" was the confident response. "I know 
 that I have a lot to learn. I sha'n't try things off my 
 own bat until I've nosed about a bit." He smiled 
 complacently, utterly unashamed of the atrocious 
 metaphor.
 
 SPORT JOSEPH AT HOME 29 
 
 Ethel could not quite contrive a blush for her next 
 endeavor, but she dropped her eyes in an apt sem- 
 blance of maidenly confusion, and her voice was very 
 low, with faltering words: 
 
 "Perhaps you will begin it will be after " 
 She broke off, her face turned away. 
 
 Joseph understood her vague reference perfectly, 
 and a warm glow of conscious virtue in renunciation 
 stole through him. The girl was very beautiful, and 
 he loved her with all his heart and soul. Only the 
 sternest devotion to duty could enable him to refuse 
 for the present the happiness at which she thus con- 
 fusedly hinted. He replied to her with extreme 
 tenderness: 
 
 "My darling, we must delay the bliss of our union. 
 It is not right that I should take you now, before 
 I have proved myself. I must do my duty first. 
 Then, when I have shown myself worthy, I shall 
 come to you again, with a clear conscience." 
 
 Joseph rose from his chair, and again kissed his 
 betrothed, who endured the caress with an appear- 
 ance of responsiveness that bore witness to her self- 
 control, for she was furious. But she said nothing 
 in answer. What was there to say at such a time to 
 such a man? Once her husband, he might grovel in
 
 30 'MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 an office through eternity for all she cared. But she 
 had meant to marry him immediately after his return 
 from abroad. The absurd whim that possessed him 
 bade fair to wreck her hopes. Her uncle, fond of her 
 as he was, could not afford to gratify extravagant 
 tastes, of which she had a plenty. She was very 
 anxious herself for the spending of a million rapidly. 
 Alas! when she suggested marriage, he prated of 
 duty. If her beauty were not a sufficient answer, 
 what, indeed, could she say to a man like that? 
 
 It was fortunate for Joseph Holbrooke's self- 
 esteem that no telepathy taught him the thoughts of 
 the girl as she lay in his arms, her scarlet lips softly 
 yielding under his kisses.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 JAKE DISCOURSES 
 
 THE influence of that involuntary agent of destiny, 
 the Marquis de Brensac, extended ultimately even to 
 Jacob Rothschild, jobber, of New York. 
 
 Jake, as he was widely, if not always favorably, 
 known in Metropolitan trade circles, had achieved 
 notoriety by the number and ingenuity of his failures 
 and revivals. He was a flamboyant person, glorying 
 always in the impressiveness of his raiment, which was 
 unrestrained by finical notions of good taste. Jewelry 
 was a delight to him, and no niggardly habit of con- 
 cealment caused him to store away his collection in 
 safe-deposit vaults. On the contrary, he persistently 
 carried it about with him on all business and social 
 expeditions, and proudly exhibited it to everyone 
 having eyes to see: that is to say, he wore it strewn 
 over his person as conspicuously as possible. When 
 there was opportunity, which he was not reluctant to 
 create, he multiplied the price by two or three, and 
 told it with joyous candor. In his business pursuits, 
 
 31
 
 32 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 Jake relied extensively on an obtrusiveness that was 
 nigh irrepressible. He was not troubled by a shy, 
 unassertive manner. He craved attention, he de- 
 manded it, he clamored for it. Because he got it, 
 he regarded his methods as perfect. He treated all 
 rebuffs by inversion : invited to go, he stayed ; abused, 
 he felt himself complimented ; insults seemed to afford 
 him particular gratification. In his way, he was an 
 entertaining nuisance. It was, perhaps, for this reason 
 that he was tolerated to a surprising extent. Then, 
 too, however little else he knew, Jake had a compre- 
 hensive knowledge of women's gowns. For that, he 
 commanded respect in the business world. 
 
 It was the morning after Joseph's return home that 
 Jake set forth for one of his periodic onslaughts on 
 Holbrooke and Company's gown-department. He was 
 aware that the buyer for the department had just 
 resigned, and he was minded to lose no time in 
 impressing his personality on her successor. 
 
 "It will be Maggie Pepper, sure, for the place," he 
 mused, as he armed himself for the fray by picking 
 up his jobber's case and making sure that the passes 
 for the latest theatrical failure were ready in a waist- 
 coat pocket. "It would be a pleasure to do business 
 with her only, she knows too much. If I can get
 
 JAKE DISCOURSES 33 
 
 her to take that line of " His further reflections 
 
 were wholly of a confidential nature, of interest to none 
 save himself or the buyer he hoped to wheedle into 
 folly. 
 
 On his arrival at the department store, Jake ascended 
 in the elevator to the stock-room of the gown-depart- 
 ment, although it was after eleven o'clock, and the 
 rules of the establishment forbade his presence there, 
 once that hour was past. The reconnoitering glance 
 which he cast about as he stepped from the elevator 
 showed him that the room was empty except for Hattie 
 Murphy, who had charge of the stock, and a girl 
 assistant. The jobber regarded Miss Murphy for a 
 minute with a speculative eye. 
 
 "She's a good friend of Maggie Pepper's," he 
 observed to himself. "It's business to jolly her along 
 a little. Good-looker, too. Thirty, pug, red hair, 
 complexion O.K., some shape, sassy Irish temper. 
 Huh ! Might take her out sometime, if Maggie throws 
 me down." 
 
 He walked forward nimbly, and his smile was expan- 
 sive, as Hattie glanced up at him. 
 
 "Good-morning," he called, cheerfully. His manner 
 betrayed no shadow of doubt as to the welcome await-
 
 34 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 ing him there. "I dropped in to see Miss Pepper. 
 What?" 
 
 Hattie displayed no pleasure over the jobber's 
 arrival. Instead, she frankly scowled at him, and 
 went on arranging tags for some new dresses which 
 the girl had just brought in. 
 
 "She's busy," was her curt answer; "I'm busy; 
 everybody's busy. Go out and get busy yourself." 
 
 "Oh, I have lots of time," Jake replied, blandly. 
 He put down the case, and came close to Hattie, who ~ 
 did not look up from her work, until, with a sudden 
 movement, he shot his cuffs out under her bent face. 
 As she stared involuntarily at the huge amethyst 
 buttons, set in deep-chased gold, the jobber recounted 
 their virtues glibly. "Some buttons! What? Cost 
 sixteen dollars lend thirteen." 
 
 "Lend thirteen ?" Hattie repeated, puzzled. 
 
 "That's it," Jake declared. "Never you buy jewelry, 
 Miss Murphy, unless you know just what it will bring 
 to hock. You never can tell. . . . When will Miss 
 Pepper be in?" He seated himself jauntily on an 
 adjacent counter. 
 
 "I don't know," Hattie replied, in a voice that was 
 meant to be discouraging. "Anyhow, you can't wait for
 
 JAKE DISCOURSES 35 
 
 her here. You know perfectly well that no drummers 
 are allowed in the stock-room after eleven o'clock." 
 
 The undaunted jobber spread out his hands in a 
 gesture of disdain. 
 
 "My dear Miss Murphy," he expostulated, "is it 
 possible that you don't know the difference between a 
 drummer and a jobber-and-importer, like myself?" 
 
 The blue eyes of the woman, though still fast on the 
 tags, twinkled. 
 
 "Why, yes, I know," she retorted. "A drummer has 
 nerve, but a jobber has the gall of a mule." 
 
 "I'll tell that to the next jobber I meet," Jake de- 
 clared, gratefully. "Oh, it's the Irish for wit." He 
 waited for a moment, but Hattie showed no sign of 
 having heard the compliment. "I hear that the suit- 
 buyer has left," he continued. "I suppose Miss Pepper 
 will get the vacancy. Will she?" 
 
 Hattie yielded to the inevitable; but she made her 
 answer as unpleasant as possible. 
 
 "That's Miss Pepper's business none of yours." 
 
 The visitor decided that the present was an excellent 
 time to employ strategy. He slipped from his position 
 on the counter, and again approached Hattie. 
 
 "Can you use a couple of tickets for the theater?" 
 he asked. His tone was unctuously generous, and the
 
 36 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 gesture with which he held out the bit of paper was as 
 lordly as if he were offering something of value. 
 
 The one whom he had selected as the recipient of 
 his bounty cast one swift, appraising glance on the 
 order-slip. Her answer was unambiguous. 
 
 "Fade away with 'em. A cheap skate stuck me 
 with six of the same last week. The show's rotten." 
 
 For once, Jake was moved to show emotion in the 
 face of adversity. His usual speech was not of a sort 
 to reveal his descent, but in this instant of indignation 
 pronunciation suffered. 
 
 "Veil, you don't need to get huffy! Vot?" Then, 
 by an effort he regained control of his vocal organs, 
 as he went on speaking vindictively; while his eyes 
 roamed the display of stock. "No wonder Hol- 
 brooke and Company are losing money here. It's 
 a shame, the rubbishy stock they buy the most rub- 
 bishy stock! . . . Look at this!" He had moved to 
 one of the counters, where he stood fingering a coat. 
 "I don't want to knock anybody else's goods, but I 
 just ask you, Miss Murphy, who sold you that ? Why, 
 that truck, it looks to me like Hermann Shimka. 
 What?" 
 
 Hattie vouchsafed a word of warning to the critic : 
 
 "You'd better not let Mr. Hargen see you there, or
 
 JAKE DISCOURSES 37 
 
 you'll hustle downstairs, all right by the window 
 route." 
 
 "Oh, Hargen," the jobber announced, airily; "he's 
 a friend of mine. But that Shimka, now, he ought 
 to be in jail. The goods he turns out! It's a crime. 
 Did you see this collar? Did ?" 
 
 He was interrupted by the entrance of one of the 
 models, a handsome girl, who appeared from the ele- 
 vator, wearing a cloak. 
 
 "This has to go to the repairing-room," she ex- 
 plained to Hattie. "It ripped up the back when I was 
 just trying it on no strain at all on it. The jobber 
 ought to be arrested." 
 
 Jake hurried to the girl's side in evident agitation, 
 and scrutinized the garment, eagerly. His eyes lighted ; 
 his broad grin was triumphant. 
 
 "She said he ought to be arrested. That sounded 
 to me like Shimka and it is Shimka !" 
 
 The model plainly resented the manner in which 
 Jake examined the cloak she wore, and she favored 
 the elated jobber with a withering stare, which failed 
 utterly in its intended effect. 
 
 "I beg your pardon," she said, with her most mag- 
 nificent manner of haughtiness.
 
 38 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 Jake condescended to appease her by introducing 
 himself after a fashion. 
 
 "Oh, that's all right," he explained, buoyantly; "I'm 
 a friend of Miss Murphy's." 
 
 "Come again!" Hattie snapped. "Friend, indeed! 
 I'd have you know, Mr. Rothschild, that two passes 
 for a bum show don't constitute friendship not for 
 yours truly." 
 
 "Next time," the jobber promised, unabashed, "I'll 
 bring you a box for the opera." But he was discreet 
 enough to withdraw to a distance from the two women, 
 who chatted together without giving him further atten- 
 tion for the moment . . . The model had news of 
 which she was eager to unburden herself. 
 
 "Did you know that young Holbrooke's back from 
 Europe?" she questioned. "Got back yesterday." 
 
 "Is that so?" Hattie exclaimed. Her blue eyes 
 widened and darkened with excitement. "Just to think, 
 he owns it the business. He's the real boss!" 
 
 The model shook her head in negation. 
 
 "Nothing in it for him," she declared, sagely. "All 
 he wants is the money." Her voice grew enthusiastic 
 as she continued : "I guess, from all I can hear, that 
 Mr. Joseph Holbrooke's a bit of a sport."
 
 JAKE DISCOURSES 39 
 
 This statement was more than Jake could endure 
 in silence. 
 
 "A bit of a sport, eh?" he ejaculated. "A fat lot 
 you know about it. Why, he's run through a million 
 dollars inside of a year across the pond. I know 
 I read it in a paper." 
 
 Further discussion as to the sporting proclivities of 
 Joseph were interrupted by the coming of Mrs. 
 Thatcher, the store-detective, a modishly gowned, alert- 
 appearing woman of middle age. She addressed the 
 model, while Hattie returned to her work. 
 
 "Whenever that woman you waited on just now 
 comes in again, miss, you let me know." 
 
 "You don't mean to say that she ain't all right!" 
 the model exclaimed, in great astonishment. "Why, 
 it can't be." 
 
 "I'm paid to know who is all right and who isn't, 
 Miss Kelly." Mrs. Thatcher spoke with the emphasis 
 of one in authority. "I know the woman that's 
 enough. Go back and go over your stock, to see if 
 anything's missing. If there is, report to me instantly." 
 
 "Well, for heaven's sake!" the model protested. 
 "And she looked like an uptown swell like a a 
 clergyman's daughter or something top-notch in the 
 goody line, anyhow."
 
 40 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 "That's how much you know about it!" Mrs. 
 Thatcher's voice was scornful. "My dear, I've caught 
 her twice with the goods on while I was at Halt- 
 man's. . . . Remember, now: if she turns up again, 
 you let me know." She moved away and seated herself 
 at a desk. 
 
 The model walked off, murmuring wonder to her- 
 self: 
 
 "Well, for the love of heaven with them baby 
 eyes!" 
 
 Jake, who with great reluctance had held aloof 
 during the period of the detective's talk with the model, 
 now hastened forward, his face wreathed in smiles of 
 happy greeting. 
 
 "Mrs. Thatcher, this is indeed a pleasure!" 
 
 "Really?" The note of interrogation in the mono- 
 syllable was not encouraging. 
 
 Jake, however, was not one to yield before a lack of 
 welcome. 
 
 "Don't you remember me?" he inquired, affably. 
 "I'm a friend of Miss Pepper's, you know Jake 
 Rothschild, of Rothschild, Doblin and Company, Im- 
 porters, Jobbers, and" 
 
 "Chronic bankrupts!" 
 
 "Oh, excuse me," Jake replied, not a whit dismayed.
 
 JAKE DISCOURSES 41 
 
 "We got our discharge. To-day, ma'am, we're as 
 solvent as Pierpont Morgan and Company. . . . Say, 
 now" he again exhibited the theater pass "here's 
 two tickets for a fine show. What?" But even his 
 callousness was penetrated by the contemptuous glance 
 she flung him. "Ah, well, all right," he went on, 
 hastily. "Don't like the theater, eh?. . . . How is the 
 greatest lady detective in the United States I mean, 
 in the world? What? . . . Say, is Miss Pepper going 
 to get the buyer's place ? I want to get it straight." 
 
 Mrs. Thatcher permitted herself a cynical smile, 
 as she answered: 
 
 "I thought she was such a friend of yours !" 
 
 "So she is, ma'am so she is, sure!" 
 
 "Then, ask her." 
 
 "Thank you," said the imperturbable jobber, grate- 
 fully, "I will." He continued in his most confidential 
 manner: "And now, please, Mrs. Thatcher, I wish 
 you'd tell me it'll just be between you and I, you 
 know is it true that Holbrooke and Company is on 
 the blink?" 
 
 The detective regarded the questioner for an instant 
 with a shrewd, appraising glance. 
 
 "On the what?" she asked, evasively. 
 
 "On the blink," Jake repeated, firmly. "There's
 
 42 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 some talk of insolvency going- about. I hear that the 
 business is really something awful. It ain't true 
 no ? Of course not, eh ? Only rumor ! What ?" 
 
 Mrs. Thatcher stared straight into the jobber's bead- 
 like eyes. 
 
 "Good-morning, Mr. Rothschild," she said, coldly. 
 
 "Now, you listen!" Jake urged, plaintively. "I've 
 got a line of real Parisian goods that won't wear out." 
 
 The detective sprang up impatiently, and hurried 
 toward Hattie. 
 
 "You've got a line of talk that won't wear out," 
 she threw over her shoulder at the baffled jobber. She 
 spoke to the girl for a moment, and then made her 
 escape into the elevator. 
 
 Jake watched her departure in an admiration blended 
 with regret. 
 
 "I could have talked with her some more," he mut- 
 tered to himself. "She's a smart woman, she is. 
 But, by golly, it ain't natural so much brains in a 
 woman." He shook his head disconsolately, and looked 
 about him for another victim.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 AT HOLBROOKE AND COMPANY'S 
 
 AFTER the evening with Joseph, in which he made 
 known his business ambition, Ethel Hargen passed 
 a night full of wakefulness and distress. Despite her 
 lack of rest, however, she appeared early at the break- 
 fast-table, for she was anxious to consult with her 
 uncle as to the change in her lover. When the 
 servant had left them alone together, she lost no 
 time in explaining the situation, to which Hargen 
 listened with a frown. Nevertheless, when she had 
 done, he seemed inclined to dispose of the affair as 
 merely of trifling importance. 
 
 "It's just a fad of a hare-brained youngster, who 
 doesn't know his own mind two minutes running," 
 he declared, with a grim smile. He pulled rather 
 pompously at one of the wisps of white whisker, 
 which he wore after a former fashion, and continued 
 with much acerbity. "I must say that there seems a 
 certain injustice in the ownership of a great com- 
 pany like Holbrooke's by a mere lad, who has done 
 
 43
 
 44 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 nothing to deserve it, and will keep on doing- nothing 
 until the end of the chapter. With all respect to your 
 future husband, my dear, he hasn't the brains to run 
 the business, even if he had every wish in the world. 
 It is not given to everyone to possess the er 
 genius for such direction." Once again, he tugged 
 gently on the wisp of whisker. Restored to good- 
 nature by the compliment he had just bestowed on 
 himself, he even favored his niece with a wintry smile. 
 
 "There's a sort of cleverness in Joseph," Ethel re- 
 marked, musingly; "just enough to make him fear- 
 fully foolish in certain ways, I think." She regarded 
 her kinsman from under knit brows. "I have an idea, 
 uncle," she said slowly, "that it would be wise of you 
 to keep an eye on Joseph. And do discourage him 
 from this stupid fancy of 'his at least until after 
 we're married." 
 
 "Pooh! Nonsense!" Hargen sputtered. "There's 
 nothing to it. He'll have forgotten all his idiotic 
 ideas in a week or less. But I'll bear what you've said 
 in mind, Ethel. Trust me to put the notion out of 
 his head, if it shows any signs of sticking. I'll ex- 
 plain that there can be no fooling with the manage- 
 ment of such vast interests as ours. I'll put him 
 through a course in the intricacies of finance that will
 
 'AT HOLBROOKE AND COMPANY'S 45 
 
 convince him mighty soon he's not meant to be a 
 business expert." 
 
 "But suppose he should understand?" the girl sug- 
 gested. 
 
 Hargen chuckled, and there was something sinister 
 in the sound of his merriment. His thin, white face, 
 with the black eyes set too close together, wrinkled 
 into lines of harshness. 
 
 "Never fear," he said, with emphasis. "I know 
 my business : he won't understand." 
 
 Her curiosity as to Joseph's activities was such 
 that Ethel decided to accompany her uncle when he 
 left for his office. At the store, she learned that the 
 young owner was already on his rounds, and, leaving 
 her relation to his work, she wandered about the es- 
 tablishment in the expectation of speedily coming 
 upon her lover. She would have had some of her 
 suspicions concerning Holbrooke and Company and 
 her uncle confirmed, could she have been present in 
 the manager's office during Hargen's interview with 
 his confidential man, Murchison. 
 
 "Well?" was the query with which the factotum 
 was greeted when he responded to his superior's sum- 
 mons. 
 
 Murchison exhibited signs of trepidation, as he ad-
 
 46 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 vanced from the door to Hargen's desk. There was 
 something hatefully pathetic in the bent figure of 
 the old man for old man he was, notwithstanding 
 the fact that his dress was that of a rakish under- 
 graduate. It was pitiable, too, to observe the awk- 
 ward briskness of his carriage, with which he strove 
 futilely to mask the stiffened joints of senility. . . 
 Genuine youth in old age is beautiful; its impotent 
 counterfeit is beyond measure hideous. Now, 
 Murchison essayed to give jauntiness to his smile, but 
 there was a tremulous timidity in it not good to 
 see, as he spoke cacklingly: 
 
 "It's no mistake, sir. I've investigated thorough- 
 ly, just as you instructed me last evening. The bank 
 refuses yes, sir, refuses to discount any more of 
 our paper at this time. I was told that the bank 
 would not advance another penny to Holbrooke and 
 Company until all the old notes are taken up. I was 
 told so, sir, personally, by the vice-president of the 
 Second National himself, this morning." 
 
 Hargen had listened intently to the report, his eyes 
 downcast, his face inscrutable. But, at the closing 
 words, his manner changed, and so alarmingly that 
 the speaker shrank back affrighted. His black eyes
 
 AT HOLBROOKE AND COMPANY'S 47 
 
 gleamed rage, as he leaned forward ; there was a snarl 
 on his lips; his voice was ominous. 
 
 "What bank did you say?" 
 
 "Why, sir, the Second National, of course. You 
 said " 
 
 "Damn you for a doddering imbecile!" the man- 
 ager said, with a cold malignity of utterance under 
 which Murchison writhed visibly in terror. "It's 
 about time you were put on the shelf. You grow 
 worse daily hourly." 
 
 "But you said, sir " 
 
 "You fool! I said the Third National. I said it 
 distinctly, too, and more than once, because I know 
 that addled brain of yours. . . A noble bridegroom 
 you'll make! It's true, isn't it this report that 
 you're going to marry one of the models?" There 
 was no cessation of the manager's savage manner as 
 he broached the tender theme. 
 
 But Murchison was metamorphosed within the 
 second. The quake of fear left him. He straightened 
 his bowed form a trifle by a spasm of will-power, and 
 he smirked. 
 
 "Yes, sir," he admitted pipingly, with a fatuous 
 giggle. His attitude was one of intolerable self-com- 
 placency. "It's Imogene, sir."
 
 48 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 "Good God!" Hargen ejaculated, in honest disgust. 
 "What damned fools both of you! A half-dead 
 human remnant and a " 
 
 "I've been a bachelor for sixty-three years, sir," 
 Murchison quavered, in plaintive protest; "and I 
 thought it was time to " 
 
 "To make a drouling maniac of yourself!" Hargen 
 growled. 
 
 "Oh, no, sir no, indeed! Why, Imogene is a 
 very practical girl. And I have quite a tidy bit of 
 money saved." 
 
 "Yes, Imogene is practical," the manager sneered. 
 
 But the old man did not heed the taunt. 
 
 "Besides, sir," he continued, in a gust of egotisti- 
 cal candor, "it's a man's duty to get married. He 
 owes it, sir, to posterity." 
 
 Hargen forgot wrath in stark amazement. He 
 stared at the speaker for a long moment with dis- 
 tended eyes; then, he groaned aloud two words: 
 
 "Your posterity!" 
 
 There was silence between the two for a little 
 while. It was broken at last by the manager. His 
 tones now were kindlier than before, but in them was 
 an authority that was menacing. 
 
 "Well, see to it that you don't neglect your duties
 
 AT HOLBROOKE AND COMPANY'S 49 
 
 here, Murchison. . . Go to the Third National Bank 
 at once, and see the president himself. I don't mean 
 the cashier. You are to see the president himself. 
 Do you understand?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," came the humble answer; "I quite un- 
 derstand." 
 
 Hargen spoke again in warning: 
 
 "Another mistake like the one you've just made 
 this morning, and I shall be compelled to ask you for 
 your resignation. You are becoming wholly unreli- 
 able." 
 
 "Oh, don't say that, sir," the old man begged. 
 "It's only that I've been a little remiss just to-day. 
 You see, sir, to-morrow is my wedding-day, and I'm 
 sort of confused-like on that account. It's quite an 
 undertaking for me, sir. . . I assure you, sir, I sha'n't 
 forget again." 
 
 Murchison started toward the door with steps that 
 dragged, despite his best intent; but, before he quite 
 reached it, he was confronted by Joseph, who entered 
 hastily, only to stop short as his eyes fell on the de- 
 crepit figure of the clerk. 
 
 "Hello, Murchison!" the young man cried heartily, 
 with extended hand. His smile was very winning, as
 
 50 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 he inquired kindly concerning the old employee's 
 health and happiness. 
 
 The answers were rather incoherent. Murchison 
 was quite at a loss concerning the identity of the 
 newcomer, and, too, he was fearful of rebuke from 
 Hargen for this delay in the execution of his mission. 
 Yet, he showed few symptoms of relief when Joseph, 
 who perceived the clerk's confusion, made himself 
 known. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Holbrooke, sir. Ah, welcome back from 
 Europe, sir." He slipped toward the door, with a 
 certain deprecatory stealthiness of movement. "You 
 look so foreign-like, sir, I didn't recognize you, just 
 for a second. You will excuse me now, sir my 
 work " and he was gone. 
 
 Joseph smiled over the eccentricity of the ancient 
 chap, as he deemed it, and turned to Hargen, who 
 regarded him with an inscrutable expression. At 
 once, however, the manager spoke, and there was a 
 plenty of cordiality in his voice. 
 
 "Ethel came down with me," he explained. "She 
 said that you would be here to-day, and she antici- 
 pated the pleasure of showing you about." There 
 was paternal affection in the smile he bestowed on
 
 AT HOLBROOKE AND COMPANY'S 51 
 
 Joseph, the while he plucked tenderly at the wisp of 
 whisker. 
 
 The young owner seemed very slightly, if at all, 
 impressed by his associate's amiability and that of 
 Ethel. He advanced to the desk, and leaned upon 
 it, looking down meditatively at Hargen's face. His 
 voice, when he spoke, was pleasant, yet decisive: 
 
 "I don't want to be shown around not by any- 
 one. You see, I want to find my own way. I want 
 to investigate for myself. I mean to learn every de- 
 tail, beginning at the basement." He seated himself 
 in leisurely fashion on the desk, and gazed medita- 
 tively out of the window for a few moments. When 
 he spoke again, there was a whimsical note in his 
 voice, although it still rang with determination. 
 "The man of pleasure has now become the man of 
 business. Henceforth, it is my laudable intention to 
 make money, not to spend it. Joe Holbrooke, late 
 of Paris, is now Joe Holbrooke, of New York, and 
 he proposes to attend strictly to business. . . And, 
 by the way, what a fearfully homely lot of women 
 you have in this place. Why, with the exception of 
 one little girl in the jewelry department, there isn't 
 a decently pretty face in the whole bunch "
 
 52 'MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 Hargen had stiffened in his chair. His tone rasped 
 as he interrupted: 
 
 "You will please remember, Joseph, that you are 
 engaged to my niece, and that, therefore, you should 
 not notice " 
 
 The young man interrupted in his turn: 
 
 "Oh, nonsense! One really can't help noticing, 
 you know. For my own part, I admit frankly that 
 the absence of beauty means the creation of a vacuum 
 around me. . . In a place like this, in my opinion, 
 the women should be particularly attractive. This 
 abundance of ugliness all around the shop offends my 
 esthetic sense." 
 
 The manager cast a dour look on the self-satisfied 
 critic. 
 
 "I venture the opinion that your business sense 
 will be offended when you find that Holbrooke and 
 Company's stock won't fetch a dollar in the market." 
 
 "I'm not worrying over that," was the retort. "I 
 have no wish to sell." 
 
 But Hargen was resolved to continue the subject, 
 which by a twist of ingenuity he had brought into 
 the conversation. 
 
 "Business is very bad," he declared, with a lugu- 
 brious shake of the head; "very bad, indeed. At
 
 AT HOLBROOKE AND COMPANY'S 53 
 
 present, it even seems as if we might be compelled 
 to yield our field to some competitor with greater 
 capital at his back. If we could obtain a fair price, 
 it would be the safe course to pursue." 
 
 Joseph waved his hand rebukingly. There was 
 conviction in his voice as he combatted the other's 
 view. 
 
 "The business will get better," he prophesied, 
 bravely. "You'll see! I shall restore it to its former 
 flourishing condition." 
 
 "How?" The single word was pregnant with con- 
 temptuous scepticism. 
 
 "Oh, as to that, now why, I haven't the re- 
 motest idea, yet." The young man made the con- 
 fession without any trace of embarrassment. "But 
 I know this: If I put the same amount of energy into 
 work that I did into pleasure, something big ought 
 to come of it that's all!" 
 
 The smile with which Hargen received the bold as- 
 sertion was almost an open sneer. 
 
 "Let us hope so, at least," he said, dryly. "And, 
 in the meantime, until your ideas are more developed 
 in detail, the business will continue under my direc- 
 tion, as heretofore." 
 
 "Of course, of course," Joseph agreed, gently: "to
 
 54 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 a certain extent. . . I'll have a look about for Ethel, 
 now." He stood up again, and walked to the door. 
 There, he paused, turned, and threw a keen glance 
 at the manager. "That's it, of course," he said, in a 
 tone low, yet very clear. "The business, in the mean- 
 time, will continue, as heretofore, under your direc- 
 tion to a certain extent." With this softly spoken 
 'decree, the owner of Holbrooke and Company went 
 out of the manager's office.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 AFTER Joseph's departure from the office, Hargen 
 sat motionless for a long time, plunged in profound and 
 anxious thought. His bloodless face seemed even more 
 wan than was its wont, and its lines deeper. Per- 
 plexity and alarm were written in his expression. The 
 new and astonishing position taken by the actual head 
 of the firm was of a character that threatened ill to 
 the managing partner's plans. The final speech of 
 the young man still rang ominously in Hargen's ears. 
 It seemed incredible that this idling spendthrift could 
 thus, without warning, bring confusion on so many 
 carefully wrought schemes schemes evolved by one 
 who was a master of craft. Yet, under the young 
 man's careless manner, his elder had read a firmness 
 of purpose that was reminiscent of the father whose 
 indomitable will had built up the prosperity of Hol- 
 brooke and Company. Was it possible that, under 
 the frivolous, pleasure-hunting veneer he had hitherto 
 shown to the world, the son, in turn, possessed his 
 
 55
 
 56 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 share of the family strength and intelligence ? If so, the 
 fact might easily spell disaster to John Hargen. In 
 any event, prudence counseled him to take measures 
 of precaution. He must juggle still more effectively 
 those figures in the firm's accounts that concealed the 
 means whereby he had gained funds with which to 
 continue a long line of unfortunate speculations. 
 
 Hargen's worries were interrupted, if not ended, 
 by the abrupt entrance into the room of his niece, 
 behind whom came the assistant-buyer for the gown- 
 department, Maggie Pepper. A glance at Ethel's 
 face showed her uncle that the girl was in a tempes- 
 tuous mood, which, he shrewdly, and rightly, suspected, 
 was at bottom due to Joseph's caprice, whatever the 
 ostensible cause. 
 
 Ethel wasted not an instant in making known her 
 cause of complaint. Scarcely was she within the door 
 when she addressed her uncle in a rush of words. Her 
 ordinarily musical voice was shrill with anger. 
 
 "I tell you, this woman ought to be dismissed for 
 stupidity and impertinence. She's quite unbearable. 
 Not only does she fail to carry out my positive instruc- 
 tions, but she presumes to argue the matter with me, 
 and she is openly impertinent. She should be dis- 
 charged this minute." She had come to a stop beside
 
 MAGGIE PEPPER 57 
 
 the desk, and, as she paused, turned to sweep a wrathful 
 glance over the figure that had halted beside her. 
 
 The girl thus violently accused showed no signs of 
 guilt, although her graceful form drooped listlessly. 
 Face and posture alike revealed excessive fatigue, as 
 she stood holding in her arms two gowns that had 
 served as the foci of trouble. There were traces of 
 indignation in her expression, but the emotion was 
 not strong enough to tense her pose. The limpid eyes 
 of gray were very weary as they met the sternly 
 inquiring stare of the manager. 
 
 "I was not impertinent, sir," she declared, in a voice 
 that was bell-like in its vibrant monotone. She turned 
 submissively toward Ethel, whose dark eyes flashed 
 scorn. "What you asked was impossible, miss. It's 
 the fault of the buyer or of the jobber, and it can't 
 be remedied now." Her manner was perfectly respect- 
 ful, yet in it lay subtly a quality of independence, of 
 self-respect, which only infuriated the more the impe- 
 rious beauty whom she addressed. 
 
 Ethel turned again to her uncle, her scarlet lips set 
 to a straight line of obstinacy. 
 
 "It's not so much her stupidity that I object to as 
 it is her manner. I deem it most impertinent. She 
 seems quite indifferent in the matter of respect." The
 
 58 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 girl had moderated her voice, for the first flare of 
 wrath was past. But there was a curious note of 
 fierceness in the modulated tones. 
 
 Hargen, too wise in the ways of women, wondered 
 if by any chance his niece could have been stirred to 
 a fit of jealousy against Maggie Pepper. His specu- 
 lative eyes studied covertly the assistant-buyer's face, 
 estimating the charm of each feature in detail, the 
 exquisiteness of their unity. The eyes were set well 
 apart, and they were splendidly clear, alight with 
 intelligence. There was a sparkle of humor in them 
 always, though in this moment it was near to extin- 
 guishment. Somewhere in their deeps shone a glow 
 that suggested tenderness a glow that might flame 
 into the fires of love. That same tenderness, with all 
 its possibilities, was traced in the soft, red bow of the 
 lips, in the dimples now smoothed by melancholy. In 
 the masses of brown hair, glints of gold showed 
 warmly. Her tall figure was of a curving lissomeness 
 to woo man's desire. Yes, Hargen decided in his 
 swift, secret survey, Maggie Pepper was lovely enough 
 to provoke the jealousy of another lovely woman, and 
 her beauty was the direct opposite in type of Ethel's, 
 wherefore it might be deemed the more dangerous. 
 The old man was mildly amused. Probably, his niece
 
 MAGGIE PEPPER 59 
 
 had detected Joseph casting an admiring look on 
 Maggie Pepper, and here was the natural result. 
 Possibly, the misguided lover had spoken of the assist- 
 ant-buyer's attractive appearance, even as he had not 
 scrupled to condemn the ugliness of the establishment's 
 femininity as a whole. In such case, inevitably, Ethel 
 would be at pains to punish the cause of her mortifica- 
 tion as harshly as she might. Hargen listened indif- 
 ferently to his employee's attempt at self-justification. 
 
 "Well, miss," Maggie urged, with a strained effort 
 toward patience, "trying to sell old goods for new 
 isn't calculated exactly to improve one's manners. 
 The public is on to it, and I know they are, and that 
 makes me feel uncomfortable, and I can't manage to 
 seem quite so pleasant all the while." 
 
 Hargen, notwithstanding his appreciation of the 
 situation, saw fit to interfere at this point for the sake 
 of discipline. 
 
 "It's your business to sell goods, whatever kind they 
 are not to criticize them," he snapped, with an air 
 of cold authority. "And, by the way, Miss Pepper," 
 he went on after a moment's pause, without any relaxa- 
 tion from the unpleasantness of his manner, "I must 
 ask that you will not, if you please, send me any more 
 letters suggesting how this business should be run. . . .
 
 60 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 And there is still another matter : As for your appli- 
 cation for the position of buyer, which was recently 
 vacated by Mrs. Taylor, I may say at once that the 
 position is already filled. . . . That is all. You may 
 go." 
 
 But Maggie held her ground. Now, at last, indig- 
 nation gave energy, and her form straightened. The 
 color in her cheeks deepened. Her voice, when she 
 spoke, was deeper. 
 
 "I've worked fifteen years for Holbrooke and Com- 
 pany," she declared, spiritedly. "I thought I was 
 entitled to " 
 
 The manager interrupted her with a sneering repeti- 
 tion of the word : 
 
 "Entitled?" 
 
 "Yes, entitled!" the girl asserted, undaunted. "I 
 thought I was entitled to ask for this position : I 
 thought I was entitled to get it. For I know the work 
 I know it better than anyone else does. I've worked 
 my way up from cash-girl. I've been stock-girl; I've 
 been saleswoman in every department. I've been on 
 the job here since I was knee-high. So, I thought I 
 was entitled to ask for the place, after being Mrs. 
 Taylor's assistant for so long." She paused, staring 
 at the manager with defiant eyes.
 
 MAGGIE PEPPER 61 
 
 Ethel, who had listened in much astonishment to 
 the conversation between her uncle and Maggie, offered 
 a question: 
 
 "Is that the position my dressmaker is considering?" 
 Hargen nodded an assent. 
 
 Nevertheless, Maggie resumed her argument, with 
 increased earnestness. 
 
 "It's no place for a dressmaker, miss. Those dress- 
 makers don't understand the game. Why, miss, I 
 tell you it's as tricky as horse-trading. I know all the 
 jobbers, and I'm dead on to their little ways straight 
 or crooked. The dressmakers don't have a suspicion of 
 the things they've got to know here, or else get stung." 
 She turned once more to the manager, and the lucent 
 gray eyes were imploring. "Please, Mr. Hargen, give 
 me a chance. I promise you, sir, I'll make good. 
 Won't you give me a chance?" 
 
 The girl's plea had evidently failed to soften her 
 employer in the slightest degree. 
 
 "What you ask is quite impossible," he answered, 
 severely. "I have told you that the position is already 
 taken That ends the matter. You are merely wasting 
 my time, as well as your own, for which the firm pays. 
 You may go." 
 
 "Thank you, sir," Maggie replied, with a pretense of
 
 62 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 humility that was belied by the angry toss of her head 
 as she turned away. 
 
 Hargen did not suffer the hint of insubordination 
 to pass without rebuke. 
 
 "If you are not satisfied with your position, Miss 
 Pepper," he remarked icily, "we are quite prepared to 
 accept your resignation at any time." 
 
 "Oh, I'm perfectly satisfied, of course," Maggie 
 declared, in a tone of gratitude so humble that the 
 manager regarded her suspiciously. "I'm delighted 
 with the place, sir." She faced Ethel for a moment, 
 and spoke most respectfully: "I'll just go over the 
 stock again, miss, and see if I can't find exactly what 
 you want. I think I understand now." 
 
 The other was not inclined to yield anything of her 
 spite to this sudden meekness. Without troubling her- 
 self to look in Maggie's direction, she flatly refused the 
 proffered service. 
 
 "I shall not wish any further help from you, thank 
 you." 
 
 Thus dismissed, Maggie betook herself and her 
 disappointment to the stock-room where she had her 
 own desk as assistant-buyer. She felt herself stricken 
 by the blow that had just fallen, for she was ambitious 
 beyond most, and in this present instance she had
 
 MAGGIE PEPPER 63 
 
 built high hopes. It was, indeed, true, as she had 
 insisted, that she knew the business of the firm with 
 the utmost thoroughness throughout its every part 
 Her long service as assistant-buyer under Mrs. Taylor, 
 a woman of great ability, had made her especially 
 competent to fill the position now vacant by the other's 
 departure. Maggie, with the optimism of her age, 
 which in her case was justified by the steady progress 
 she had hitherto achieved, told herself that she must 
 inevitably succeed to the coveted place. By so much, 
 then, her disappointment had been the keener when 
 her application was bluntly rejected. Now, she yielded 
 to the gripe of depression, and went her way to the 
 elevator with a shambling step, utterly unlike the 
 accustomed quick gracefulness of her every movement. 
 
 As Maggie appeared in the stock-room, a single 
 glance of Hattie's keen blue eyes made known to that 
 warm-hearted girl just what had occurred. Impetu- 
 ously, she hastened forward, took the two gowns from 
 her friend, tossed them on a chair, and then said 
 gently, as she patted a shoulder tenderly : 
 
 "Oh, Maggie, dear ! I'm so sorry !" 
 
 Maggie rebelliously assumed an expression of bewil- 
 derment.
 
 64 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 "Sorry?" she repeated, while she went on toward 
 her desk. "What on earth are you sorry for?" 
 
 The sympathetic Irish girl was grieved by this rebuff 
 of her offered condolence, but she concealed the hurt, 
 for she guessed how sorely her friend was wounded. 
 
 "I'm sorry that you didn't get the vacancy," she 
 said, gently. "You've worked faithfully, and you 
 deserve it. But, anyhow, you'll have lest; responsibility 
 and less worry without it there's that much comfort 
 for you." 
 
 "And less pay, too," Maggie added, bitterly. Yet, 
 she managed to smile feebly as she left Hattie and 
 seated herself at her desk. 
 
 She had been busy with some papers for only a few 
 minutes, when she was again annoyed by a sympathy 
 that served only to emphasize the wrong she endured. 
 This time, it was Murchison, who entered from the 
 elevator rather slowly, with some degree of the dignity 
 deserved by his years, for he was genuinely distressed 
 that Maggie's application had been refused. 
 
 "I am so sorry!" he said simply, as the girl looked 
 up at his approach. 
 
 The raw nerves of the girl quivered under the well- 
 meant phrase. The arch of her brows was drawn to 
 the level of a frown that emphasized her sharp retort :
 
 4 MAGGIE PEPPER 65 
 
 "Say, for heaven's sake, stop this sympathy meeting, 
 will you ?" She included Hattie in her scowl. "I tell 
 you both that I've got work to do, as Mr. Hargen just 
 now kindly reminded me. That's what they pay me 
 for, he explained also. So, you can cut out this 
 mourning-bee right now!" 
 
 "My dear, you're a game sport," Murchison vouch- 
 safed, turning away. 
 
 "Well, so are you, if it comes to a show-down," 
 Maggie declared. Her voice was more kindly now, 
 for she felt somewhat ashamed of her petulance. 
 "You're taking some mighty long chances on that mar- 
 riage of yours." 
 
 Instantly, the confidential clerk assumed his juvenile 
 manner, and simpered. 
 
 "Why," he gushed, in a pitiably merry treble, "who 
 told you that?" 
 
 "She did, herself," Maggie replied, somberly; "Imo- 
 gene. Well, since you're going to marry her anyhow, 
 I sha'n't tell you all I think : but the name of Imogene, 
 somehow, don't seem to inspire me with any great 
 amount of confidence." 
 
 "Oh, doesn't it !" Murchison inquired, with an inane 
 failure to appreciate her meaning. "Well, you'll wish 
 me luck, won't you?"
 
 66 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 "Sure ! and lots of it," Maggie declared ; and the 
 smile that accompanied the words was very winsome. 
 
 "Thank you a thousand times, my dear," the clerk 
 said, happily. His clumsy joints again strove ineffec- 
 tively for sprightliness as he hobbled off to the elevator. 
 
 "God knows he needs it," the assistant-buyer mused, 
 as she watched the aged man's departure. "For the 
 matter of that," she added drearily, "we all do your 
 humble servant in particular." Abruptly, she sat erect, 
 and brought one clenched fist down fiercely on the desk. 
 Then, she spoke her mind to Hattie, who hovered 
 near, eager to comfort. "All the swelling's gone out of 
 my head. Yep, it's back to the counter for mine, for 
 the rest of my days. . . . And you, you silly girl, you 
 helped me to move into the new flat: well, now, you 
 can help me to move back again into the old place. I 
 was too previous, that's all got to go back to the 
 old scale of living. No more dreams of luxury for 
 mine." 
 
 "Why don't you get married?" Hattie made the 
 suggestion with a full consciousness that it was not 
 destined to suit the occasion, but, for the life of her, 
 she could think of nothing else to say. 
 
 "No, I thank you kindly," Maggie answered, tartly. 
 "The privilege of handing my pay-envelope to some
 
 MAGGIE PEPPER 67 
 
 fellow every Saturday night don't appeal to me 
 not a little bit. I want to make my own way, without 
 being hampered by a masculine expense-account. . . . 
 But there's the trouble, Hattie !" She was silent for a 
 long minute, thinking deeply, the corners of her curv- 
 ing red lips drooping sorrowfully. "I want to make 
 my own way yes! But where to? You see, my 
 dear, the difficulty is, I lack education. I don't know 
 how to be a lady. I have brains enough, I guess ; and 
 I can read and write and figure well enough to hold 
 down 'most any job. But I don't know the little things, 
 the nice things the ladylike things. I wasn't brought 
 up on them, and I've never had the chance to get hold 
 of them, right." 
 
 Hattie tossed her head with an indignation that was 
 wholly sincere. 
 
 "Rats!" she ejaculated. "J ust think of those pin- 
 heads that come in here. What on earth do they know 
 that you don't or I, even ?" 
 
 Maggie was not convinced. On the contrary, she 
 shook her head dolefully, as she answered with a sigh : 
 
 "Almost everything, Hattie that's what they 
 know that we don't. Why, we're just jokes only, 
 we don't know it." The laugh by which she empha- 
 sized the words was savage with revolt against the
 
 68 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 fate that crushed her. For a little interval, she rested 
 silent, staring before her with unseeing eyes. When, 
 at last, she looked up into the face of the patiently 
 waiting Hattie, she smiled forlornly; the tender lips 
 were tremulous as she spoke: "The clock has struck 
 twelve for me. It's drudgery for mine, for all the 
 rest of my life just drudgery, drudgery, drudgery!" 
 The repetition was the knell of hope. She moved with 1 
 nervous abruptness, slammed a drawer shut noisily; 
 her voice came rasping: "And with these remarks 
 we'll consider the incident closed."
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE STRANGE GENTLEMAN 
 
 IN that future to which in her hour 'of trial 
 Maggie Pepper looked forward so bitterly, there was 
 never the shadow of a dream of the Marquis de 
 Brensac. In the same hour, the erudite and indus- 
 trious nobleman was perusing intently the chronicles 
 of Froisart, utterly unaware that he was about to be- 
 come a factor in the life-story of a modern maiden 
 some thousands of miles distant from his castle and 
 in a walk of life utterly unknown to him. Yet, in 
 spite of the total ignorance of the two, the wide- 
 reaching influence of the marquis was about to im- 
 pinge upon Maggie's circle of fate. The effect 
 wrought swiftly and permanently on Joseph was now 
 ready to react vitally on the assistant-buyer for Hol- 
 brooke and Company. In miserable unconsciousness 
 as to the forthcoming operation of the law of causa- 
 tion, Maggie involuntarily looked up as she heard 
 the click of the elevator-door. 
 
 She perceived an extremely well-dressed young
 
 70 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 man, of an appearance distinctly gentlemanly, who 
 advanced toward her desk with an air of quiet ease 
 that was unlike the hustling- tread or loafing manner 
 of the usual business visitors. Moreover, he was 
 puffing nonchalantly on a rather black cigar, and 
 swung a natty walking-stick in a fashion that argued 
 familiarity with this sort of appendage. The as- 
 sistant-buyer noted also, in her short glance of ap- 
 praisal, that the newcomer was of a goodly height, 
 and of a breadth to match, without an ounce of use- 
 less weight; that his features were orderly, clean cut, 
 strong; that his expression was both intelligent and 
 amiable, and that he was strikingly well groomed 
 so well, indeed, that Maggie almost yielded to an 
 inclination to examine the position of her own puffs, 
 before administering the rebuke that awaited him 
 for his glaring breaches of decorum. She resisted the 
 temptation, however, and snapped a sentence that no 
 ingenuity could twist into welcome: 
 
 "No drummers allowed in the stock-room after 
 eleven o'clock. . . And kindly escort that cigar out 
 to the sidewalk, will you?" Her musical voice was 
 charged with authority. 
 
 The visitor halted, dumfounded, to stare at the 
 pretty girl who 'greeted him in such rude style. He
 
 THE STRANGE GENTLEMAN 71 
 
 found her gray eyes altogether uncompromising, as 
 they met his own steadily. He conceded a point by 
 hastily taking the cigar from his lips. 
 
 "Why?" he inquired, in a voice that revealed no 
 trace of discomposure. "Don't you like smoke?" 
 His manner was so deferential that the girl was 
 placated, notwithstanding her prejudices. 
 
 "It isn't what I like," she explained, with a note 
 of relenting in her tones. "But it's against the fire- 
 department rules. Besides, we can't sell this sort of 
 goods" she waved a slim hand toward the counters 
 "if they reek with tobacco smoke." Unconscious- 
 ly to herself, Maggie was speaking more carefully 
 than was her wont. Something in the mere presence 
 of the man stimulated her to avoid the usual sloppy 
 shop-talk. 
 
 The visitor tossed his cigar into a fire-bucket, and 
 glanced about him interestedly. Then, his eyes came 
 back to the girl. In them was a look of appreciation 
 which was a trifle confusing to the recipient, so that 
 the roses in her cheeks deepened. 
 
 "Are you the head of this department?" was his 
 question. 
 
 "No," Maggie replied, with a rueful smile; "but 
 I'm the assistant. There's no head just at present."
 
 72 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 The young man seemed somewhat puzzled by this 
 statement, as well he might, but offered no comment. 
 
 "I'm just looking about a bit," he explained. "I'm 
 trying to learn the department-store business." 
 
 "Oh, that's not much of a job," the assistant-buyer 
 declared sarcastically. "But the first thing you have 
 to learn is that you mustn't talk to people who have 
 work to do, which is the case with me at this very 
 identical moment." 
 
 The visitor bowed with an air of breeding that dis- 
 concerted the girl greatly. She was not accustomed 
 to niceties of deportment in the stock-room or 
 elsewhere, for that matter. 
 
 "But you will pardon me for a little, won't you?" 
 he asked. "Do you like your work?" 
 
 "I just love it!" Maggie spoke with an inflection 
 that set the hearer guessing as to her meaning. 
 
 "You're a buyer, are you not?" he persisted. 
 
 At this, the girl rebelled. She gave the speaker a 
 searching look from beneath drawn brows. 
 
 "See here." she demanded, curtly. "Are you a re- 
 porter?" 
 
 "Good heavens, no!" The sincerity of the dis- 
 claimer was beyond question. 
 
 "Well, then, what is your line?"
 
 THE STRANGE GENTLEMAN 73 
 
 "But, you know," was the suave answer, "I really 
 haven't one. As I said to you, I'm just looking about 
 a bit." 
 
 "Oh, I understand," Maggie exclaimed. His words 
 made the whole story clear. It was another instance 
 of someone who had come down a few perhaps 
 many rungs of the social ladder. "In plain words, 
 you're hunting a job." Her relief was so obvious that 
 the visitor was loath to undeceive her. But his in- 
 stinct toward honesty prevailed. 
 
 "I'm sorry," he declared. "The fact is, however, 
 that I'm not hunting a job that is, not exactly, 
 anyhow. . . But why did you think that? Would 
 you, by any chance now, give me one? I have an 
 idea that I might make something of a hit as a floor- 
 walker, you know." 
 
 "Perhaps," Maggie admitted, with judicial cold- 
 ness. As a matter of fact, she was thinking him the 
 most striking and pleasing man she had ever seen. 
 She was forced to speak coldly to keep the en- 
 thusiasm out of her voice. 
 
 "And, if not," the young man continued anxiously, 
 "please tell me what you do think I'm good for." 
 
 One of the girl's elusive dimples shadowed the
 
 74 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 white of her cheek. The visitor watched it content- 
 edly, as she answered saucily: 
 
 "Conversation!" 
 
 "A hit a palpable hit, by Jove!" The fellow 
 seemed actually to enjoy being- the butt of her 
 raillery. "But, seriously now, what could I succeed 
 in doing here, in this house?" 
 
 Maggie experienced a pang of compunction. After 
 all, this applicant might be in dire distress, even in 
 want of food, for all the richness of his attire. She 
 had heard of such cases. It might be that he hid 
 desperation under this debonair exterior. Anyhow, 
 she would not run the risk of playing with his misery. 
 She considered him for a few seconds attentively 
 from a business standpoint, impersonally. Her de- 
 cision was quick and definite: 
 
 "Tie-and-glove-department, gents' furnishings." 
 
 The visitor smiled, with an expression of genial 
 gratitude. 
 
 "And how much a week will you give me?" he 
 asked, eagerly. 
 
 "You'll have to see Mr. Hargen about that," the 
 girl explained. "Really, you know, this isn't at all 
 the place to apply. . . And let me give you a piece 
 of advice, if you don't mind. Drop that conversation
 
 THE STRANGE GENTLEMAN 75 
 
 habit during business hours, young man. If you 
 don't, you'll never get a chance to sweep out the 
 place even." The girl spoke with emphasis, for she 
 was sincere in her advice. But, when she had ended 
 the words of warning, her expression changed: from 
 lively interest, it fell to profound melancholy in an in- 
 stant. "What a pity oh, what a pity!" she mur- 
 mured to herself. 
 
 The visitor's senses were keen, however, and he 
 heard. He marveled mightily, too, over the varia- 
 tion of her mood. 
 
 "What is it that's a pity?" he asked. There was 
 insistence in his voice. "Tell me, please." 
 
 For a brief period of hesitation, Maggie regarded 
 his face doubtfully. Something she saw there de- 
 cided her to be frank. She addressed him with a sug- 
 gestion of diffidence that seemed strange to herself, 
 and caused Hattie to open her blue eyes to their 
 widest. 
 
 "Why do you want to waste your life in a business 
 of this sort?" the girl asked, wistfully. "Here, you'll 
 slave from morning till night. You'll put your whole 
 heart and soul into your work. Then, some fine day, 
 after years of drudgery, you'll find yourself almost 
 where you started. You'll learn that you've just been
 
 76 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 going around in a circle no progress, no future: 
 you're merely the rank and file. So, if you've got 
 any brains, you don't want to stay here. What you 
 ought to do is to go somewhere where you'll have 
 a chance to use them." 
 
 The visitor had listened apparently with absorbed 
 interest. If the truth be known, however, he was 
 studying the face of the speaker with ever-growing 
 delight. She satisfied to the full that esthetic sense 
 of his to which he had referred in his complaint to 
 Hargen concerning the deplorable ugliness of the 
 women about the establishment. He reflected that 
 her presence in the place raised the average of 
 feminine beauty many degrees higher than he had 
 first set it. 
 
 For, as the astute reader has already guessed, this 
 visitor was none other than Joseph himself, industri- 
 ously following his duty to tradition and race as im- 
 pressed upon him by that involuntary agent of destiny, 
 the Marquis de Brensac. Hitherto, in his peregrina- 
 tions through the house, he had been provoked to in- 
 terest often, to enjoyment not at all. In the stock- 
 room, on the contrary, he found entertainment worth 
 while. Honest opinion and instruction were his for 
 the asking from this keenly intelligent young"
 
 THE STRANGE GENTLEMAN 77 
 
 woman, and along with them went the pleasure that 
 radiant beauty always afforded to his artistic soul. It 
 is probable that the loveliness of the teacher affected 
 him more deeply than he himself was aware at the 
 moment. But he was fully conscious of the fact that 
 here was a happiness which he had by no means an- 
 ticipated under the direction of noblesse oblige, and 
 he was bound to make the most of it. He was at 
 pains not to alarm her by any display of his great 
 satisfaction in the situation, so, when finally she came 
 to the end of her admonition, he merely uttered a 
 barren protest, which could by no possibility arouse 
 her suspicions that he might be other than he seemed. 
 
 "I don't fancy," he drawled, "that I'm over- 
 burdened with brains." 
 
 Maggie rebuked herself for the freedom of her out- 
 burst in behalf of one so stupid. 
 
 "Well, perhaps the business will suit you all right," 
 she said, evenly. Her inflection was not compliment- 
 ary. 
 
 But Joseph was resolved to draw her out still 
 further, if it were possible. 
 
 "With yourself now," he suggested argumentative- 
 ly; "can't you get any higher?"
 
 78 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 The memory of disappointment cut into the girl's 
 heart, as she replied sullenly, her eyes downcast. 
 
 "It seems not." The color faded svvifty from her 
 cheeks. Joseph perceived with consternation that 
 she was pale and weary of a sudden. "Good-bye," 
 she added, lifting her clear eyes frankly to meet his 
 anxious gaze. "I've work to do, you know. Good- 
 bye." 
 
 Joseph made one step forward toward the girl. 
 
 "It's good of you to speak to me in confidence this 
 way," he said, and his voice was gentler than before. 
 "And you are tired, too, I'm afraid. Let me tell you 
 that I appreciate your kindness very much very 
 much, indeed." 
 
 "It's foolish of me to talk so much to a stranger," 
 Maggie declared. Her lips were tremulous; the 
 dimple had long vanished. There was just a hint of 
 mist veiling the deeps of the warm gray eyes. Her 
 words came with little breaks between. "I'm not 
 myself at all. It's taken the heart out of me, I 
 guess. Oh, I don't mean that." The sympathy in 
 Joseph's face as she fought against the pain touched 
 her to a feminine weakness that was almost beyond 
 her will to control. "Please good-bye," she repeated. 
 "Let me know if you get the job."
 
 THE STRANGE GENTLEMAN. 79 
 
 Joseph, however, was reluctant to take his dis- 
 missal as yet. 
 
 "What is it that has taken the heart out of you?" 
 he questioned. He bent toward her with the words. 
 He spoke with a certain masculine imperiousness, 
 too, which pierced through the girl's armor of reti- 
 cence, although she struggled against yielding all her 
 confidence. 
 
 "A disappointment," she stammered, weakly. 
 "It's nothing that really matters." 
 
 "Tell me," Joseph urged, insistently. A persuasive 
 tenderness sounded in his utterance: it broke down 
 Maggie's last barrier of reserve. She spoke in a low, 
 faltering voice, confused, distressed, yet glad to con- 
 fide in this man whose sympathy stirred her so deeply. 
 
 "Why, it's only that our buyer has resigned. You 
 see, I'm next in order here. I know the business from 
 the ground up; I've had plenty of experience in the 
 particular work of this department as assistant. So, 
 I put in my application. I thought I ought to have 
 the place : the manager thinks otherwise. That's all. 
 Only, it seems a little hard, after fifteen years, to be 
 told that you must stop right here for the rest of your 
 life, that there's no chance for any further advance- 
 ment."
 
 8o MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 "Fifteen years!" the young man ejaculated, in 
 amazement. "Why, fifteen years ago, you must have 
 been the merest child." There was infinite compas- 
 sion in his utterance. 
 
 "Yes, I started in as a kid, and I've been on the 
 job every working day since." 
 
 "Fifteen years!" Joseph repeated, in a wonder that 
 was half-awe. He was trying to imagine the mean- 
 ing of that term of servitude. How much of brain 
 and body had this woman given to swell the fortune 
 which he had lavished in careless prodigality, with 
 never a thought for the toilers whence it was sprung? 
 The winning personality of this particular one among 
 the horde forced him to realization such as he could 
 never have achieved by cold logic directed through 
 one of the frumps of whom he had complained. 
 
 Maggie curtly interrupted his train of thought. 
 She was already half-repentant of her frankness to 
 a stranger. Yet, for some subtle, inexplicable reason, 
 she still felt herself curiously well disposed toward 
 him. She made a compromise between her antagon- 
 istic emotions by changing the subject definitely, 
 while offering him the best advice of which she was 
 capable : 
 
 "I'd like to help you any way I can. Now, you
 
 THE STRANGE GENTLEMAN 81 
 
 must cut out that cane: it isn't businesslike. And the 
 hat!" She regarded the latest thing in fuzziness with 
 a pout of disdain. "That's an awful thing to go 
 round looking for work in. . . And that reminds me: 
 Have you had any experience?" 
 
 "Not a bit," Joseph replied, humbly. 
 
 "Well, don't tell anybody so," Maggie warned. 
 Again, the dimple revealed itself, daintily. "But 
 you've bought ties and socks at times, haven't you?" 
 Then, as the listener nodded assent, she continued 
 with a demure air of sagacity that fascinated the 
 young man. "Well, now, you must sell them. Un- 
 derstand? It's just the matter of being on the other 
 side of the counter that's all. You must praise 
 the goods, instead of knocking them. . . Drop in here 
 every now and then, and I'll give you a few pointers 
 that may help some. You'll need them fast enough!" 
 Joseph laughed aloud at the precision of her instruc- 
 tions and the delicately dogmatic manner in which 
 they were spoken. Her rebuke followed on the in- 
 stant. "And, for heaven's sake, can that laugh. Go 
 check it somewhere." 
 
 "By Jove, you are frightfully interesting, you 
 know," Joseph cried, in an outburst of enthusiasm. 
 
 " 'Frightfully interesting !' " Maggie repeated de-
 
 82 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 jectedly; and she shook her head in despair. "Say, 
 don't you spring- any of that London stuff on Hargen. 
 If you do, it's all off. Take my tip." 
 
 A new curiosity seized the recently created knight 
 of industry. Before he thought as to the propriety of 
 the question, he had put it: 
 
 "You don't like this Mr. Hargen, do you?" 
 
 "I'm not madly infatuated with him," Maggie con- 
 ceded, with a candor that astonished herself beyond 
 measure. "But oh, I suppose he's all right. The 
 trouble is that he's surrounded with a 'yes-yes' 
 chorus. They make him believe that everything he 
 thinks or does is the greatest ever." 
 
 Interested though he was in the subject, Joseph 
 abandoned it as contrary to propriety. He created 
 a diversion by boldly asking the girl her name. 
 
 "It's Maggie Pepper," was the prompt answer; 
 "and don't you say it's a hot name: I've heard that 
 too many thousand times. When I first came here 
 they called me Green Pepper. The day after I sassed 
 Mr. Hargen, it was Red Pepper, and that's stuck." 
 The limpid eyes were sparkling with merriment. 
 
 A quick, dominant idea prevented the proprietor 
 of Holbrooke and Company from entire responsive- 
 ness to the humor in the girl's description of her
 
 THE STRANGE GENTLEMAN 83 
 
 names. The earnestness of his manner as he put 
 another question sobered her at once, and her answer 
 was given with serious intensity: 
 
 "If you were to get this vacancy here," was his 
 inquiry, "what would you do?" 
 
 "What wouldn't I do? Why, I'd just turn things 
 upside down, and the whole establishment ought to 
 follow suit. We're overstocked, for one thing. We 
 bell old goods that's the result, of course. And we 
 don't advertise as we ought to. The real trouble is, 
 we're behind the times 'way behind. We're using 
 old, mildewed methods, and that's what's ruining 
 Holbrooke and Company. Good gracious! it's like 
 a morgue here. We ought to have music, life, gayety. 
 I've got an idea for an escalator that would go all 
 round the store it would be a corker. You know 
 how tired the fat women get chasing the different 
 
 departments. Well, you see, I'd But what's the 
 
 use!" 
 
 "Go on please do go on," Joseph entreated. The 
 enthusiasm of the girl warmed his heart. Here, at 
 last, was being shown the way in which the ambition 
 to which he had set himself might be achieved. The 
 absorbed interest on his face was so convincing that 
 the girl continued the narrative of her projects.
 
 84 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 "I'd sell off all these goods on hand at auction. 
 I'd give 'em away, if necessary, to get rid of them. 
 Then, I'd re-stock get the very latest and best 
 from Paris have a bunch of the handsomest-ever 
 girls to show 'em off. And I'd advertise like a like 
 a circus or a mining fraud. Why, as our announce- 
 ments are now, they're just a joke. The girls in the 
 up-to-date houses call us the Old Curiosity Shop. 
 It's awful simply awful!" 
 
 "I wish to have a long talk with you," Joseph said, 
 gravely. "What time do you go to luncheon? We 
 might " 
 
 Maggie cut short the invitation, without ceremony. 
 
 "I don't go," she informed him, curtly. "I eat my 
 lunch right here. And let me tell you something: 
 Cut out that lunch racket. They all try it, but it 
 don't go. Understand?" 
 
 Joseph, however, regarded the matter as too im- 
 portant to be dismissed thus cavalierly. 
 
 "We'll cut out the luncheon racket, if you insist. 
 But, all the same, I must talk with you again about 
 these things. When may I see you?" 
 
 For some elusive reason, the quiet mastery of his 
 manner thrilled the girl, swayed her to complaisance. 
 
 "You'll find me here 'most any time," she
 
 THE STRANGE GENTLEMAN 85 
 
 promised. "And, oh, that reminds me," she contin- 
 ued, with new vivacity. "What's your name?" 
 
 Murchison, who had just appeared from the ele- 
 vator, came dodderingly toward the desk. Joseph 
 hastily took a card from his case, laid it on the as- 
 sistant-buyer's desk, and, with a softly spoken word 
 of parting, turned away. 
 
 Maggie greeted the aged bridegroom of the mor- 
 row with a smile so dazzling that the susceptible 
 ancient fairly blinked. In her heart was a throb of 
 happiness, new and strange and wonderfully sweet. 
 She made no guess as to its meaning; only, of a sud- 
 den, she felt that, after all, life was a joyous thing.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 STEPS TO TROUBLE 
 
 AN irruption of business into the stock-room kept 
 Maggie Pepper so fully occupied that for some time 
 she had no opportunity to look at the card left for her 
 by the strange gentleman who had aroused her interest. 
 Throughout the interval, however, while her whole 
 attention outwardly was given to details concerning 
 styles and prices and deliveries, her mind was engaged 
 in vague speculations concerning the identity of the 
 visitor, his character, his history, his future, and in 
 half-troubled wonderings as to whether or not their 
 paths of life might cross again. She sighed with relief 
 when, finally, there came a lull from the gale of work, 
 and she was free to pick up the card, which had been 
 lying face down on the desk before her. 
 
 As she read the name there, Maggie's eyes dilated, 
 her lips puckered to a whistle. In the first moment 
 of understanding, her sole emotion was of amazement. 
 She grew rigid in her chair, and sat staring at the bit 
 of pasteboard through second after second, to the 
 
 86
 
 STEPS TO TROUBLE 87 
 
 unbounded astonishment of Hattie, who was almost 
 as curious as Maggie herself concerning the mysterious 
 caller. She, too, had been in the throes of impatience 
 to learn more of him, and she had watched eagerly 
 when her friend took up the card. Now, as time 
 passed, and Maggie did nothing more than sit gazing 
 with widened eyes, Hattie passed from astonishment 
 to indignation. She felt that her inquisitiveness was 
 being cheated of its just dues. Without hesitation, she 
 challenged the situation: 
 
 "Say, for the love of Mike," she demanded, bearing 
 down on the desk, "what's got you, Maggie?" 
 
 The rude interrogation aroused the girl from her 
 trance of bewilderment. Slowly, she lifted her eyes, in 
 which the color had darkened from excitement; the 
 puckered lips relaxed to a half-smile. Her words came 
 in a gust: 
 
 "Joseph Holbrooke! Now, what do you think of 
 that?" 
 
 "Joseph Holbrooke!" Hattie ejaculated, dazedly. 
 Her jaw dropped; her eyes grew round; she stood 
 transfixed with the first overpowering emotion of her 
 life. Then, after a half-minute, she repeated her most 
 violent exclamation. It was inadequate, but she could
 
 88 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 command no phrase worthy of the catastrophe. "For 
 the love of Mike!" 
 
 Maggie's lips quivered a little. She moved nerv- 
 ously, apprehensively. She brought out the vital 
 question with difficulty : 
 
 "Did I did I say anything much, Hattie ?" 
 
 The distressed friend threw up her hands, in a 
 gesture of supreme despair. 
 
 "Did she say anything?" she cried, rolling her eyes 
 toward the ceiling. "Oh, heavings ! Did she say any- 
 thing!" She brought her gaze back by an effort, 
 and regarded her questioner with infinite reproach. 
 
 Maggie frowned blackly, endeavoring to recall the 
 extent of her culpability. A lively shame for her un- 
 accustomed garrulity swept over her. With it came a 
 hot rage against the man who had so played on her 
 sensibilities, who had enticed her into such intimate 
 confessions. Yet, in the next instant, her wrath was 
 altogether against herself for having yielded. Again, 
 she set herself to recalling just what she had said in 
 her folly. 
 
 "What did I say'?" she mused aloud. "Let me see, 
 now. I knocked Hargen, that's one thing sure. I 
 knocked Holbrooke and Company knocked them 
 hard, too, that's another thing sure. I knocked their
 
 STEPS TO TROUBLE 89 
 
 stock, their methods everything. There's no getting 
 away from it, I did. I didn't leave a single button on 
 their vests. . . . Darn the man, Hattie! He got me 
 going, and then he held me. He simply made me talk. 
 I don't know how it was, but he did it. There was 
 
 something about him that Oh, well, what's the 
 
 use? It's my finish, all right. He'll just about go 
 down and tell Hargen, and then yep, I can hear 
 them making out my absence-papers. . . . And what 
 makes me mad is, Hattie, I I kind o' liked him !" As 
 she made the humiliating confession, the crimson 
 flooded cheeks and brow, and her eyes fell. 
 
 Hattie, however, was now inclined to take a more 
 optimistic view of the situation. 
 
 "I'm thinking he won't tell," she vouchsafed, with 
 an air of conviction. "I guess, from all I've heard, and 
 from what I seen of him to-day, that he's a genuine 
 sport. So be he is, he won't squeal." 
 
 The luncheon hour was come, and the two girls 
 proceeded to make their repasts from the contents of 
 the boxes they had brought. 
 
 In spite of the excitement that still agitated her, 
 Maggie contrived to make an excellent meal, as de- 
 manded by her youth and perfect health. While they 
 ate, the friends discussed Joseph from every viewpoint,
 
 90 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 and much of what they said might have caused the 
 ears of that gentleman to tingle, could he have over- 
 heard. On the other hand, much that was not said 
 would have given him more than compensation, for 
 Maggie still felt deep down in her heart the warmth 
 born of her meeting with him. The knowledge of his 
 identity shocked and confused her, for a time ; but the 
 feeling provoked by his personality remained un- 
 changed the stimulus to a new outlook on life. Ere 
 the simple meal was ended, Hattie found herself 
 wondering over the way in which Maggie sat dreamily 
 silent, her eyes watching the cloud masses in the distant 
 bit of sky, the rose tints in her cheeks burning a deeper 
 hue, her red lips bending gently toward a smile. Hattie 
 shook her head in token that the meaning of all this 
 was beyond her comprehension; but some delicate 
 feminine instinct warned her well, and she refrained 
 from questioning. 
 
 When the luncheon was done, the two resumed their 
 work in silence. In Maggie's case, to stimulation suc- 
 ceeded depression. Her mind reverted in dismay to 
 the fact that she had lost all hope of advancement with 
 Holbrooke's by Hargen's refusal of the vacancy; in 
 addition, her own absurd indiscretion had now rendered 
 precarious, to say the least, her continuance with the
 
 STEPS TO TROUBLE 91 
 
 firm in any position whatsoever. Her mood was at 
 its blackest when a diversion was offered by the appear- 
 ance of Jake Rothschild, who, as usual, chose forbidden 
 hours for his visit. 
 
 Maggie regarded his approach with a disgust that 
 she was at no pains to conceal from its object. 
 
 "You talk to him, Hattie," she called out. "I simply 
 can't stand him to-day." 
 
 Miss Murphy rose to the occasion with a bluntness 
 and dispatch that were admirable in their way. She 
 pointed commandingly toward the elevator ; her words 
 were explicit: 
 
 "Get out!" 
 
 Jake, halting in some confusion, allowed himself 
 the rare luxury of retort to an indignity : 
 
 "She said you vas to talk vit me," he objected, his 
 pronunciation suffering for an instant from choler; 
 "not insult me." 
 
 Maggie, repentant of her rudeness, intervened for 
 his relief. 
 
 "I'm not the one you wish to see," she explained. 
 "You must hunt up some dressmaker, whoever she is. 
 She's the new buyer." 
 
 Jake's face lengthened. He shot forth his cuffs 
 suddenly, and contemplated the splendid buttons with
 
 92 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 consternation writ large on his face. In his way, the 
 man was fond of Miss Pepper, and he felt a brief pang 
 of unselfish sorrow for her disappointment. The 
 emotion was so unfamiliar that he gave his entire 
 attention to it while it lasted, half-pleased by it, half- 
 alarmed. 
 
 "Oh, I see," he said at last. "You wasn't elected. 
 What?" 
 
 "No," came the answer, in a tired voice; "I lost by 
 one vote the manager's." 
 
 Under the impulse of sympathy, fortified by a lively 
 hope of possible financial gains for himself, Jake 
 approached the desk closely, and spoke in a confidential 
 whisper : 
 
 "Never you mind, Miss Pepper." He added a wink 
 for emphasis. "You and I can always do a little busi- 
 ness on the side, you know. You can pick up a few 
 hundred commission. What?" 
 
 The girl regarded the jobber with contempt. 
 
 "I take my commission from the house I work for. 
 Any other profits can go to the firm, for all me." 
 
 "Now, that's the trouble with women," Jake pro- 
 tested, throwing out his hands in a racial gesture of 
 deprecation. "They mix business and them sentiments. 
 Pretty soon, they cut out the business, and then they's
 
 STEPS TO TROUBLE 93 
 
 nothing but them sentiments nothing doing. What ? 
 . . . Now, you just listen to me. Oh, what profit 
 something I tell you !" He whipped a pocket-case 
 from somewhere about his person, and thrust it open 
 under the girl's face. "It's the chance of a lifetime," 
 he breathed. His bearing was that of one under 
 tremendous stress. "One hundred Paquin models! 
 They " 
 
 The interruption came ruthlessly, in a cold, level 
 voice. 
 
 "Mr. Rothschild, you're on a busy wire. Will you, 
 please, hang up the receiver?" 
 
 Her closing word was like the red rag to a bull for 
 this man, who had often been thwarted in financial 
 schemes by legal interference with his affairs. 
 
 "I'd like to hang up all receivers by their toes," 
 he spluttered; "especially the one who was appointed 
 for our last failure. Why, that there feller, he didn't 
 leave enough to buv an evening paper. It was a 
 crime!" 
 
 The house-detective came to Maggie's relief from 
 the importunities of the loquacious jobber. Her crisp 
 air of authority subdued the reluctant Jake, and he 
 slowly took his departure. At once, then, Mrs.
 
 94 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 Thatcher drew close to Maggie at the desk, and whis- 
 pered so that Hattie should not overhear. 
 
 "My dear," she said regretfully, "I saw that woman 
 again, just a little while ago. She was outside in the 
 street, looking in at our window display." 
 
 Maggie uttered an ejaculation of dismay. She knew 
 perfectly the identity of the person to whom the detec- 
 tive referred thus secretly. It was her own sister-in- 
 law, who had been the wife of her one brother, now 
 dead; a woman older than herself, more weak than 
 vicious, yet a criminal by reason of the influences to 
 which she had yielded. After a few years of respectable 
 married life, in which she had become the mother of 
 one child, a girl, Ada had fallen victim to the charms 
 of James Darkin, whose sole merit, if such it should be 
 termed, was an exterior handsome in a flamboyant, 
 bandit fashion. The man was thoroughly bad, and 
 soon, partly by persuasion, chiefly by cruelty and 
 threats of worse, he made his wife a thief. Mrs. 
 Thatcher, in the course of her professional duties, had 
 come to learn of Mrs. Darkin, and she was aware that 
 the woman had already achieved an unsavory reputation 
 with the police. Knowing her to be Maggie's sister-in- 
 law, it was for the girl's sake that the detective now 
 came to give a word of warning. "She's suspected by
 
 STEPS TO TROUBLE 95 
 
 the police of a number of small jobs," Mrs. Thatcher 
 added, "and, to tell the truth, I'd have ordered her away 
 from our place, if it hadn't been for you." 
 
 Maggie's face hardened, swiftly. Her own misery 
 to-day rendered her less charitable than her natural 
 kindliness of heart ordinarily directed her to be. 
 
 "Don't spare her on my account," she answered. 
 "I'm much obliged to you, of course, Mrs. Thatcher, 
 for thinking of my feelings ; but I just don't care what 
 happens to her. She deserves all she'll get, whatever 
 it may be. When my brother, Frank, died," she con- 
 tinued, with a sudden fierceness born from the memory 
 of wrongs endured at this woman's hands, "after living 
 two dreadful years of married life with her, I tried to 
 do everything I could for her, just because she was his 
 wife. But now well, I'm through; that's the size 
 of it. You know, I would have kept Frank's little 
 girl with me. When she took her away from me 
 the girl I'd brought up from a baby, been a mother 
 to when she did that, and went West with this 
 Darkin, why I broke off having anything at all to do 
 with her any more. . . . Tell me : Was the little girl 
 with her?" 
 
 "No, I don't think so," Mrs. Thatcher replied. "At
 
 96 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 least, I didn't notice any child that seemed to belong 
 with her. But you can't always tell." 
 
 The hardness had vanished from Maggie's face now, 
 at thought of the girl whom she had loved as her own. 
 When she spoke again, the soft resonance of her voice 
 was touched with a wistfulness that moved the listener 
 to sympathy. 
 
 "I get a heartache when I let myself think of that 
 poor little baby." Her tones grew deeper, as if in 
 reverent wonder, as she went on. "Think of it, Mrs. 
 Thatcher : I was that little child's mother for five 
 years. I brought her up, and, for five years, she be- 
 longed to me; she was mine mine! God! What's 
 going to become of her with a mother like hers and 
 with Jim Darkin for a father? Jim Darkin for a 
 father! She hasn't anybody to guide her. There's 
 nobody to care what becomes of her. And, now, she 
 must be almost fifteen years old. She's almost grown 
 up. What's going to become of her ? It's awful for a 
 young girl like that. And I was just wrapped up in 
 her!" There were tears in the tender music of the 
 voice now. "I loved her so ! She was something to go 
 
 home to, something to live for " The rush of 
 
 emotion was too great. The girl checked herself 
 abruptly, striving to regain her self-control.
 
 STEPS TO TROUBLE 97 
 
 Mrs. Thatcher patted the suffering girl's arm, reas- 
 suringly. 
 
 "There there !" she murmured, affectionately. "I 
 know, dear!" 
 
 "Frank was only a boy when he married her," 
 Maggie went on, more quietly. "It just killed him." 
 Her voice grew harsh. "She's our family Jonah, all 
 right. Why, I get a cold shiver down my back every 
 time I so much as hear her name mentioned. . . . And 
 to think of that baby! Say, she was the cutest little 
 thing." The girl's suddenly uplifted eyes were radiant 
 through their mist of tears. "Just let me tell you what 
 she did when she was only two years old." 
 
 And the elder woman, smiling, bent to listen.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 ADA DARKIN 
 
 MAGGIE was in a more cheerful mood after the de- 
 tective had left her. By a serious effort of will, she put 
 her troubles out of mind, and busied herself with the 
 routine of her work. As a rule, her disposition was 
 of the sunniest. To-day, melancholy had claimed her 
 for its own because of the greatness of the sorrow that 
 was come from the wrecking of ambitious hopes; and 
 thus, too, she had been predisposed to place the worst 
 construction on her predicament in reference to the 
 proprietor with whom she had gossiped and on the 
 difficulties that might result from the presence of Ada 
 Darkin in the city. The sympathy of Mrs. Thatcher, 
 however, had cheered her mightily, and the strength 
 derived from the kindly woman enabled her to dismiss 
 the bulk of worry from her thoughts. Only, from time 
 to time, her dread of harm for Ada's child would 
 descend upon her spirit. Again and again, she drove 
 the evil imagination from her, but always, after an
 
 ADA DARKIN 99 
 
 interval of relief, it recurred to torment her peace. 
 And then, finally, in a moment when the dread was 
 heavy on her, she felt the weight of it grow suddenly 
 crushing 1 . She looked up in an instant of terror, and 
 saw the mother of the child standing before her. 
 
 "Hello, Maggie !" came the easy salutation, in a voice 
 once pleasant, now harsh. It was evident that the 
 woman had been handsome in a bold way, but now the 
 color was too high, the lips were too loose, the eyes 
 too furtive and hard. From the richness of her hat, 
 one would guess that she might be elaborately gowned, 
 but the details of her costume were almost wholly 
 concealed by a voluminous cloak which extended to 
 her heels. She had been standing at some distance 
 from the desk when Maggie looked up, but, with her 
 careless phrase of greeting, she strode forward, and 
 halted immediately before the desk, gazing down good- 
 naturedly at her step-sister. 
 
 At first sight of the woman, Maggie had given a 
 violent start, and the color had fled from her cheeks. 
 Then, her glance swept the room, and she sighed with 
 a sense of relief on perceiving that it was empty; even 
 Hattie had betaken herself elsewhere. Maggie won- 
 dered vaguely that she had not heard the sound of the 
 elevator-door opening and closing. In the same
 
 ioo MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 second, she hit on the explanation: Ada had not 
 chosen the usual way of entrance; for reasons of her 
 own she had slipped up the stairway, and come in at 
 the door. As her eyes returned to the woman, Maggie 
 opened her lips to speak, but her expression was so 
 disturbed that Ada hastened to forestall her. 
 
 "Now, now!" she urged. "Hush! Don't make a 
 fuss. I haven't done any harm. Don't be a goose, my 
 dear Maggie." 
 
 "What are you doing here?" The girl's tones were 
 level and cold. 
 
 "Oh, I just happened to be downstairs, looking 
 around," was the jaunty reply, "so I thought I'd drop 
 in for a minute to say how d'ye do." 
 
 Maggie's frown of alarm deepened to one of anger. 
 
 "You promised me solemnly that you'd never come 
 here again," she said, savagely. Her manner was so 
 menacing that Ada drew back a step, with an uneasy 
 attempt at a smile. 
 
 "Oh, well, we can't always keep our promises," was 
 the excuse. "Circumstances alter cases and prom- 
 ises. I came in just now because I want you to help me 
 out. That's why I came up the back way in a hurry, 
 too. If they should come in here, I want you to say 
 that I came at your invitation, and that I've been here
 
 ADA DARKIN 101 
 
 all the time never out of your sight for a second. 
 Understand ?" The woman's voice had grown fiercely 
 entreating. 
 
 The flush of anger faded from Maggie's face. Her 
 heart was sick within her. . . . This was the mother 
 of the child she loved the mother, this frightened, 
 flying thief, whining for help, coward and criminal. 
 
 "Mrs. Thatcher was here only a little while ago," 
 she said, in a lifeless voice. "She knows that you were 
 not here then." 
 
 Ada's face grayed under the rouge. 
 
 "Thatcher ! That damned old cat !" she snarled. "I 
 must get out somehow without her seeing me." 
 
 Despite the misery of the woman's presence, Maggie 
 could not neglect to satisfy her heart-hunger for the 
 child. 
 
 "Where is she ?" she asked, softly now. "Where is 
 Margie?" 
 
 "Oh, she's all right," was the indifferent response. 
 
 "If she needs anything, if you can't attend to her 
 properly as a mother should, you must let me care for 
 her." The girl's voice was timid, almost supplicating. 
 
 "She gets all the care she needs," Ada declared, 
 sullenly. Her gaze darted here and there, suspiciously.
 
 102 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 "Jim looks after her as if she was his own child, as if 
 he was her father." 
 
 Maggie fairly cowered in her chair at the callous 
 words. It was ghastly to think of the girl under the 
 tutelage of that evil ruffian. For a moment, she could 
 not speak could only huddle in her place, staring, 
 horror-stricken, at this woman who was a mother. 
 Then, presently, Ada's shrinking manner impressed 
 itself on her consciousness, and she guessed its signifi- 
 cance. 
 
 "Why are you so afraid?" she questioned. "Have 
 you have you taken anything?" Ada shuddered 
 under the probe of the girl's eyes. Her whole appear- 
 ance was a confession of guilt. "You have you 
 have !" Maggie cried. "What have you how dared 
 you ?" She was near choking under the rack of vica- 
 rious shame shame for Margie's mother. "What 
 have you stolen?" she asked, at last, more quietly. 
 
 Ada evaded the question perhaps not by intent, 
 for fear was strong on her. 
 
 "Are you going to keep me here till someone comes, 
 
 and ?" She could not complete the sentence, but 
 
 stood trembling, with her clasped hands thrust forward 
 in appeal. 
 
 "Perhaps!" The unexpected answer, spoken with
 
 ADA DARKIN 103 
 
 deliberate coldness, struck the woman like a whiplash, 
 so that she drew her breath in a great gasp, and the 
 grayness of her face became a deadly pallor. Her eyes 
 questioned wildly. "It all depends." An inspiration 
 had come to Maggie, and she was following it with 
 faith : She would turn this mother's terror into safety 
 for the child. "I'll help you all I can if you will 
 give me back Frank's little girl. She's mine by right. 
 I've mothered her for five years. You've never moth- 
 ered her. Give her to me, will you?" 
 
 Always, Ada's eyes were roving the room in the 
 same furtive fashion. She had small heed for aught 
 save the danger close upon her. Now, as Maggie 
 paused, waiting for a reply, she spoke hurriedly, care- 
 lessly : 
 
 "I'll think it over." Then, as the girl uttered an ' 
 indignant exclamation : "Oh, well, I suppose you can 
 have her if you can get Jim's consent. It don't 
 make any difference to me. Yes, yes," she concluded, 
 as the realization of peril again assailed her, "you can 
 have her only, get me out of here for heaven's sake." 
 Maggie sprang up with a glad cry; she would have 
 taken Ada's hand. "Cut out the blessings-on-your- 
 head stuff !" the woman exclaimed, roughly. "Get me 
 out of here !"
 
 io 4 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 "This way," Maggie said quietly, coming from 
 behind the desk. She looked up as a strangled shriek 
 broke from Ada. ... In the doorway stood Mrs. 
 Thatcher. 
 
 There was a grim smile on the detective's face. All 
 the kindliness of so short a time ago had vanished, 
 leaving it stern, implacable. 
 
 "I had an idea you would sneak up here, when you 
 found you couldn't get out through the front doors," 
 she said to the wretched woman, who was cringing 
 before her. "It's no use Drying to get away, Mrs. 
 Darkin. . . . Now, there's a child's ermine set and a 
 sable collar from the fur-department, and whatever 
 else you may have gathered in during your little trip 
 through Holbrooke's store." The detective turned 
 toward Maggie, who was standing forlornly alongside 
 the accused, and her face softened in commiseration. 
 "I'm sorry, Maggie; but it can't be helped." Her 
 official expression appeared again, as she addressed 
 Mrs. Darkin: "Come on, now!" 
 
 By this time, the guilty woman had recovered some 
 measure of assurance, since the worst had come to pass, 
 and she made a futile effort to bluster. 
 
 "I don't know what you are talking about," she 
 declared, with an air meant to be haughty.
 
 ADA DARKIN 105 
 
 "So, you're not content with a quiet arrest," Mrs. 
 Thatcher remarked, significantly. "You want to be 
 dragged through the streets by the police. You're 
 anxious for public disgrace, are you ? Well, you'll get 
 it, unless Oh, come on now ! Produce !" 
 
 "Please do, Ada," Maggie entreated, desirous of 
 escaping a scene, for the child's sake. 
 
 But the woman was hopelessly recalcitrant. 
 
 "Shut up !" she snapped to the girl. "I haven't been 
 near the fur-department." 
 
 "Of course not," Mrs. Thatcher agreed, with weary 
 sarcasm. "I suppose the furs just crawled around, 
 looking for you, and then, when they had found you, 
 jumped on you and hid. Anyhow, we'll see about it." 
 
 The detective's intentions toward the prisoner were 
 destined to be postponed, for at this moment a diver- 
 sion occurred. The door of the elevator slid open, and 
 from within emerged a policeman, dragging after him 
 a young girl. Behind them came one of the sales- 
 women, who was weeping copiously. Despite the flood 
 of tears, however, she was able to see clearly enough, 
 for, the moment she stepped forth from the cage, she 
 pointed a dramatic finger at Mrs. Darkin. 
 
 "That's her!" she screamed. "That's the one, I 
 tell you!"
 
 106 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 From this moment on, Maggie gave only a sub- 
 conscious attention to what went on around her, for 
 she had recognized the child : It was the Margie of her 
 love. She was dazed by the discovery. The hideous- 
 ness of the event pierced her with an anguish so 
 poignant that the light faded from her eyes, and all 
 grew black. She swayed, almost swooning. Then, in 
 a flash, she nerved herself to strength, fought the 
 weakness, conquered it. White and shaken, she was 
 still keenly alert, ready by every means in her power 
 to rescue the child from the threatened degradation. 
 As she aroused herself, she knew in a gleam of 
 automatic memory that the saleswoman had identified 
 Mrs. Darkin as the one who had been seen acting 
 suspiciously in the fur-department, and, too, seen 
 talking with the child. She remembered, as well, that 
 a search of Ada had brought to light from a muff a 
 number of valuable' furs. She had reached this point 
 in her thoughts, when she became aware that Mrs. 
 
 Thatcher was questioning her niece. 
 
 \ 
 
 "Do you know this woman?" the detective de- 
 manded, indicating Ada. 
 
 To Maggie's amazement, Margie shook her head. 
 The child denied her own mother. But she began to 
 understand, when Mrs. Thatcher turned to the prisoner
 
 ADA DARKIN 107 
 
 with a similar question, to which Ada replied loftily: 
 "Certainly not! I never saw her in my life before." 
 
 "Oh, of course not!" the detective agreed, cynically. 
 "Funny, though, that the saleswoman here should have 
 had that dream of having seen them talking together. 
 Anyhow, they'll have a chance to tell it to the judge. 
 . . . Take her along with you, Johnson," she directed 
 the policeman briskly, with a nod toward Mrs. Darkin. 
 "I'll attend to the little one. She's got to be searched 
 first; but there won't be anything on her. She's just 
 the lookout, I guess. . . . You can get back to your 
 work, too, miss," she concluded, addressing the sales- 
 woman, whose tears were drying at last. 
 
 As the others took their departure, the detective 
 engaged in the task of searching Margie, but nothing 
 incriminating was found. When she had made an end, 
 she was astonished by a sharply spoken question from 
 Maggie, who had stood by, watching somberly 
 
 "What has this child done, Mrs. Thatcher, that she 
 should be made to suffer such humiliation ?" 
 
 "What has she done?" the detective retorted, in- 
 dignantly. "Didn't you hear the saleswoman identify 
 the little girl as having been with Mrs. Darkin? She 
 saw them talking together." She stared severely at 
 the culprit. "What's your name?" There was no
 
 ro8 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 answer. The smartly, if flashily, dressed girl, whose 
 appearance indicated that she was about seventeen 
 years old, maintained a stubborn silence. Mrs. 
 Thatcher sniffed, and faced Maggie again. "You see?" 
 she said, triumphantly. "She's too well trained to talk. 
 She's a clever little crook, that's all. I know the brand 
 of goods. She keeps watch while the other one steals. 
 Oh, yer, I know little Miss Innocence. . . . And she'll 
 just go along with me." 
 
 Maggie realized that now the time was come for 
 final interference, if she would save the child whom she 
 loved. Her voice was husky with the suspense of the 
 moment as she spoke: 
 
 "Don't take her away, Mrs. Thatcher don't ! I'll 
 be responsible for her." 
 
 Mrs. Thatcher regarded the speaker with unqualified 
 amazement. 
 
 "Don't be a fool, Maggie Pepper," she advised, 
 candidly. 
 
 "Oh, I beg of you give her a chance. Mrs. 
 Thatcher" Maggie caught the detective appealingly 
 by the arm "dear old Thatch! Won't you trust 
 me?" 
 
 "Now, don't you dare 'Thatch' me," the elder 
 woman cried, reprovingly highly pleased none the
 
 ADA DARKIN. 109 
 
 less. "You know I've always liked you, Maggie " 
 
 she was continuing in a conciliatory tone, only to stop 
 short as she heard the softly breathed supplication : 
 
 "Oh, please, dear Mrs. Thatcher !" 
 
 "I'd do anything you asked me," the detective de- 
 clared, in distress; "but this is a matter of business, 
 of my duty. I'm responsible to my employers for 
 what goes on in the store." She paused again, to 
 watch wonderingly as Maggie went to the stolid- 
 appearing girl, took the two little hands in her own. 
 and fell to weeping silently, while the child herself 
 looked on with an astonishment that tore off the mask 
 of apathy. "Oh, well, then," Mrs. Thatcher exclaimed, 
 seriously troubled by Maggie's display of emotion, "I'll 
 tell you what I'll do : I'll not take her to the station. 
 I'll send an officer of the Society over after her, 
 instead." 
 
 On the instant, the last trace of the child's indiffer- 
 ence fled. The young learned in evil courses are early 
 taught to hate beyond all else falling into the clutches 
 of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Chil- 
 dren. Now, the little prisoner sprang toward the 
 detective, and cried out shrilly : 
 
 "No, no! Not the Society! Anything but that!" 
 
 Mrs. Thatcher cast a glance of satisfaction on
 
 no MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 Maggie, who stood bewildered by the unexpected out- 
 burst. 
 
 "You see? She knows. Why, my dear, it's as 
 plain as the nose on your face. She's an old-timer. 
 . . . Come on you !" She caught the child's hand, 
 and started toward the elevator. 
 
 At that, Maggie braced herself to renew the attack. 
 
 "Mrs. Thatcher," she said gravely to the detective, 
 who halted to listen, "I must have this child. Let me 
 tell you why. She has forgotten me, but I I haven't 
 forgotten her because I loved her so ! She's my 
 brother Frank's little girl. Do you understand, now ? 
 Let me have her." The voice sank to a murmur of 
 prayer. "Oh, let me have her !" 
 
 The detective was deeply moved. All the maternal 
 instinct in her rose swiftly to do battle in Maggie's 
 behalf. Her rugged face beamed tenderly on the be- 
 seeching one before her. 
 
 "Is she the baby the one you told me of ? Oh, 
 dear! Oh, dear! Poor little devil!" Her eyes met 
 Maggie's fairly, and answered them. "Oh, well, I'll 
 have to take a chance, of course, if that's the case." 
 Her tone was very brusk, and she sniffed violently. 
 
 Maggie cast her arms around the detective's neck, 
 and kissed the lips that met hers warmly.
 
 ADA DARKIN in 
 
 "You good old Thatch !" she whispered. 
 Presently, the detective went out of the room, and 
 aunt and niece were left alone together.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 PER J. H. 
 
 IT was closing time for Holbrooke and Company. 
 Maggie glanced over her desk, arranged the litter in 
 order, picked up a letter addressed to herself, which, 
 she remembered dimly, Murchison had laid there some 
 time during the afternoon without any explanation, 
 and thrust it into her muff. When she was ready for 
 the street, she turned to the child, who had stood 
 waiting apathetically. 
 
 "You are to go with me," she said, and led the way 
 toward the elevator. She was not minded to enter 
 into explanations now. After the strain of the day, 
 she felt curiously numb, lethargic. It would be time 
 enough for a talk with the girl when they were in the 
 seclusion of the flat. Besides, the stock-room, with 
 the possibility of interruptions even at this late hour, 
 was ill-suited to an exchange of confidences such as 
 must be between herself and her niece. 
 
 The child followed obediently, without question. 
 112
 
 PER J. H. 113 
 
 She doubtless experienced some measure of gratitude 
 toward this singular person who had interfered in 
 her behalf, who had, indeed, rescued her from the 
 threatened horror of the Society. So, she accompanied 
 her protector very willingly, thankful, indeed, that 
 she had escaped a worse fate, such as had befallen her 
 mother. 
 
 It was not until after the simple meal, which 
 Maggie prepared, had been eaten, and the dishes 
 washed and put away with the assistance of the child, 
 that an intimate conversation began. The two had 
 sat and worked together in almost unbroken silence, 
 mutually awaiting the opportunity when there should 
 be no distractions. Now, however, there was no 
 further reason for delay. They were seated in the 
 little parlor of the flat, opposite each other at a table 
 on which a shaded lamp burned cheerfully. The new 
 apartment into which Maggie had moved under the 
 impulse of her hope for advancement was a snug 1 
 place, neatly and tastefully furnished, though not in 
 the least luxurious. It already possessed something 
 infinitely better than splendor: an air of homeliness. 
 Maggie reflected with satisfaction that here she could 
 keep the girl comfortably, which she could not have 
 done in her old rooms. Somehow, she must economize
 
 ii4 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 to such an extent as to retain this place, despite her 
 failure to secure the advance, with its larger salary, 
 on which she had relied. Her heart chilled for a 
 moment, as she again recalled the failure of her hopes, 
 but she resolutely put the matter from her thoughts. 
 The thing was ended, and there was nothing to be 
 gained by repining. Her present duty was just there, 
 on the other side of the table, sitting in a stolid patience 
 remarkable for one so young a patience perhaps 
 deplorable, since it suggested over-training in self- 
 control. 
 
 "Margie," Maggie said, at last, in a voice that was 
 a little weary, and very, very sweet, "don't you know 
 me?" 
 
 The great gray eyes of the child the eyes that 
 were Frank's very own met Maggie's in a stare of 
 unconcealed surprise. She shook her head. 
 
 "No," she declared. It was plain that she spoke 
 the truth. For that matter, there was nothing to gain 
 by false denials. The child had forgotten her aunt 
 completely. The fact saddened Maggie, although she 
 had expected nothing else. It seemed unjust that the 
 memory of her should have been thus blotted out, 
 where she had loved with all her heart 
 
 After a slight pause, she spoke again, hesitatingly :
 
 PER J. H. 115 
 
 "Did you ever hear of your Aunt Margaret ?" Her 
 tone was tenderly wistful. 
 
 This time, the child showed greater animation. She 
 twisted in her chair, and nodded violently. 
 
 "Oh, yes!" she exclaimed. "I heard she was no 
 good." 
 
 Maggie, who had leaned forward anxiously, with 
 her red lips trembling toward a smile of welcome, 
 sank back into her seat, and the lips drooped sorrow- 
 fully. It was thus that the child whom she had so 
 loved and cared for through five years was taught to 
 think of her. It was a shameful thing. Her spirit 
 revolted against the injustice of it. A new note in 
 her voice caused the girl to shrink a little when she 
 asked the next question : 
 
 "Who told you that?" 
 
 "Why, mother did," was the answer. "She said 
 she'd beat the life out of me if I ever spoke to my 
 Aunt Margaret." A fierce anger against the woman 
 shook Maggie at the words. . . . That mother had 
 been vile, indeed, thus to defame the one who had suc- 
 cored her child. But the feeling passed as the girl 
 went on speaking in a sudden fury of grief over this 
 same mother. "Oh oh ! They've taken her away !" 
 The thin treble rose shrilly. "Poor mother ! I knew
 
 ii6 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 it would happen I knew it would I knew it! 
 They'll send her up, and I'll be alone again. . . . But 
 I won't go back to him I won't ! I won't ! I'd 
 I'd rather go to the Society than to him." 
 
 Quick joy surged in Maggie's breast. She forgot 
 her wrath against the mother in delight over the 
 child's detestation of the man whom she, too, loathed. 
 It spoke well for the girl's instincts that she should 
 thus hate and fear Darkin for that the reference 
 was to him could not be doubted. But, to make assur- 
 ance doubly sure, she put the question : 
 
 "Go back to him?" she repeated. "To whom do you 
 mean ?" 
 
 The child was sitting stiffly erect, her slim body 
 tense with determination, her gray eyes hard and 
 brilliant. 
 
 "Father," she answered, savagely. 
 
 Disgust clutched the listener. That use of the word 
 was an insult to her dead brother, Frank. 
 
 "Your father has been dead since you were two 
 years old," she said, very coldly. 
 
 At this, the expression of the child's face turned 
 instantly to one of wonder. 
 
 "Dead my father?" she exclaimed, her eyes 
 widening. "Dead? Why, isn't my name Darkin?"
 
 PER J. H. 117 
 
 Pity for the poor, deceived creature, who had been 
 so precious to her, drove all other emotions from 
 Maggie's breast, and she answered with a world of 
 tenderness in the music of her voice : 
 
 "Your name, dear, is the same as mine: Margaret 
 Pepper." 
 
 The child drew down her brows in a frown, curi- 
 ously out of place on the young and pretty face. 
 
 "Why," she cried excitedly, "if it's the same as 
 yours you you are my Aunt Margaret ! . . . But 
 say, Auntie, if he ain't my father, what right has he to 
 beat me?" 
 
 Maggie shrank, as if she herself had been struck. 
 
 "Does he that man, Darkin dare to beat you?" 
 she demanded. Her eyes shot fire. 
 
 The child made a grimace, suggestive of painful 
 memories. 
 
 "Does he!" she retorted, sarcastically. "If you 
 knew him, you wouldn't need to ask. Huh ! He beats 
 us both whenever he feels like it. ... Gee, but I 
 hate him ! He's a cheap sport, anyhow. He " 
 
 "Oh, hush, please!" Maggie begged. The coarse 
 manner of the child in this display of primitive pas- 
 sion shocked her immeasurably. The baby whom she 
 had loved was grown into this precocious creature of
 
 ii8 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 evil associations, which had corrupted. The pathos of 
 the change from the innocence she had cherished so 
 fondly wrought upon her sensitive soul until she could 
 have shrieked at the monstrousness of it all. But she 
 calmed herself sufficiently to speak gently: 
 
 "Don't think of that dreadful man any more, dear. 
 You're at home with me now in your own home, 
 Margie." A wave of reviving love welled over her, 
 sweeping away her momentary distaste for the child 
 who had been smirched through no personal fault. 
 "Come to me, Margie," she cried. Then, when the 
 girl had obeyed, she took her niece in her arms, gazing 
 deep into the eyes that were like her own, and more like 
 those of the dead brother. "God ! it is as if Frank were 
 looking at me," she said, reverently. She kissed the 
 child again and again. "Margie!" she whispered. 
 "My little Margie!" Her heart leaped with joy, for 
 she felt the soft lips return the pressure of her own. 
 
 Presently, the child stirred uneasily, and sat upright 
 on Maggie's knees. 
 
 "Why do you call me that?" she questioned, with 
 a puzzled frown. "Margie?" 
 
 "Why," came the surprised reply from the aunt, 
 "because it's your name from Margaret.'* 
 
 But the niece shook her head in 'denial.
 
 PER J. H. 119 
 
 "No, it isn't/' she declared, with conviction. "My 
 name's Zaza." 
 
 "Zaza!" Maggie repeated, aghast. "Why, that's a 
 French name a stage name." 
 
 "Well, it's what they call me," the girl persisted. 
 "I've seen the play, too. Father I mean, Mr. Dar- 
 kin, you know he said the woman was a damned 
 fool, and didn't know her business." 
 
 "Oh, oh !" Maggie was too horrified for further 
 speech at the moment. As soon as she had mastered 
 her emotion, she spoke with grave kindness. "Don't 
 think of the things that man has said, Margie. No 
 one will ever call you by the name again, if I can help 
 it. Your name is really Margaret. Everyone will 
 call you that, or Margie." She regarded the child's 
 frock attentively. "It's too old for her," she mused 
 aloud, unconsciously, "and too showy it's loud. 
 And that picture hat of hers is a scream a chorus 
 girl could make a hit with it on Broadway." 
 
 "Father Mr. Darkin said it would make 'em 
 sit up and take notice," Margie exclaimed, eagerly. 
 
 Maggie gave a startled movement. 
 
 "You heard?" she questioned. Then, as the child 
 nodded assent: "I didn't mean you to hear; but it's 
 just as well perhaps. You must dress more quietly
 
 120 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 now, dear, as a little girl like you should. You mustn't 
 wear flashy things. Your dress and hat make you 
 look too old and too conspicuous." 
 
 "Why, I'm seventeen," Margie argued, petulantly. 
 It was apparent that she did not favor the idea of 
 giving up her gorgeous raiment. 
 
 "Seventeen!" Maggie exclaimed. "Why, you're 
 only fourteen I know, dear, because you lived with 
 me when you were a baby, and I loved you so much 
 that I've kept track always." 
 
 The girl sprang up, and stood regarding her aunt 
 with huge astonishment in her eyes. 
 
 "Is that straight, Auntie ? . . . Only fourteen 
 me ! Gee ! What a liar my that Darkin is. Darn 
 him ! One of his friends had it all doped out to marry 
 me this fall, in about a month. Mother said I was 
 too young; but she had to give in or get a thrashing. 
 But, when I do marry, it's going to be a rich young 
 fellow I met at a moving-picture show." Maggie had 
 opened her lips to protest, but the volatile girl thwarted 
 her purpose by an abrupt change in the topic. "Say, 
 are you going to get my mother off ?" 
 
 "I'll do what I can for her," Maggie declared. In 
 her content over possession of the child, she found
 
 PER J. H. 121 
 
 herself much more charitably disposed toward Ada 
 Darkin. 
 
 "Can't you get the salesgirl to say that mother 
 didn't do it?" Margie suggested, hopefully. She 
 came close to her aunt, whose neck she entwined within 
 her slender arms. 
 
 But Maggie could not endure the caress for such a 
 plea. She rose from her chair, and gently freed her- 
 self from the child's embrace. She was partly exas- 
 perated, partly amused, partly grieved. It was borne 
 in on her consciousness with intensity that before her 
 lay a tremendous task : the teaching and the cleansing 
 of this soiled soul now entrusted to her keeping. 
 She breathed a wordless prayer for guidance and for 
 help. Then, she turned with a bright smile, to the 
 child, who was regarding her a bit sullenly : 
 
 "Yes, I'll do what I can to help your mother," she 
 said, cheerfully. "And, now, I'm going to see you 
 safe in bed." 
 
 As she returned through the passage after finishing 
 her ministrations to the girl, Maggie observed an 
 envelope lying on the floor by the hat-rack where she 
 had placed her muff, and she realized at once that 
 this was the one she had brought with her from the 
 office, and had since forgotten. She picked it up, and,
 
 122 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 carrying it with her into the parlor, seated herself by 
 the table, opened it, and read. As she did so, the 
 bloom vanished from her cheeks, and left her pallid. 
 She huddled in her chair, like one mortally stricken. 
 A low groan broke from her lips. At the end, she 
 threw her arms on the table, buried her face in them, 
 and so rested motionless for hours, in the quietude of 
 despair. 
 
 This was the letter, which bore the heading of 
 Holbrooke and Company and the date of that day: 
 
 Miss MARGARET PEPPER: 
 
 As you are dissatisfied with the manner in 
 which the business of Holbrooke & Co. is carried on, 
 we think it desirable to fill your place with someone 
 less .critical than you appear to be. Herewith your 
 salary till Saturday night. 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 HOLBROOKE & Co., 
 Per J. H.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE NEW BUYER 
 
 NEEDLESS to describe in detail the night of suffering 
 endured by Maggie Pepper. Her pangs of sorrow 
 were sharpened by the fact that the letter of dismissal 
 had been signed with the initials of the young man 
 whom she had sought to help, toward whom she had 
 felt herself subtly drawn. This, then, had been the 
 return he offered for the kindness she had shown. 
 There was intolerable torment in the realization of an 
 ingratitude so base. She had talked too frankly: it 
 had been her sole indiscretion; and this fault, if fault 
 it were, had been induced by the plausible geniality 
 with which he approached her. For an error on her 
 part thus insignificant, he chose wantonly to deprive 
 her of a livelihood. The man was a brute, and she 
 hated him! 
 
 Another fact gave edge to her pain. She was now 
 become the protector of a child, with all responsibility 
 for its maintenance and training. She had accepted 
 
 123
 
 124 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 the duty of developing a soul a duty most grave. 
 The loss of position threatened failure here, prophe- 
 sied catastrophe for another beside herself. . . . Such 
 anguished thoughts, and countless more, held Maggie 
 in thrall through the dragging hours of the night. 
 Of what avail to pry farther into the supreme 
 wretchedness of her heart? Sometimes, the scalpel of 
 the analyst lays bare over-much in the body of dead 
 hopes; sometimes, the researches of the psychologist 
 border close on sacrilege. 
 
 In the morning, Maggie was at pains to use such 
 artifices as she knew to conceal the traces left by the 
 night. She succeeded so well that, beyond her pale- 
 ness, there was nothing to betray the tortures she had 
 undergone. She chatted gayly with Margie during 
 breakfast-time, kissed the child, bidding her remain 
 within the apartment, and set forth for Holbrooke and 
 Company's store, to collect a few belongings left in her 
 desk 
 
 At once, on reaching the stock-room, she seated 
 herself at the desk, for there was no one about at the 
 time, except a girl sorting goods on a distant counter. 
 She was bending low over a bottom drawer when she 
 heard a voice that brought her erect in an instant, 
 with a quick flush of anger on her face and her
 
 THE NEW BUYER 125 
 
 curving lips set in their harshest lines. The man whom 
 she had so execrated in the vigil of the night stood at 
 ease before her, smiling and debonair, and his voice, 
 as he spoke, was cheery and friendly : 
 
 "I've been thinking over what you said to me, Miss 
 Pepper, and, as you see, I've cut out all that London 
 stuff, discarded the laugh, hung away my cane for 
 another sort of day, stopped smoking during office 
 hours beastly bore, that! . . . Hello! that wind-up 
 sounds Englishy. I must watch out. . . . Anyhow. 
 it's pretty good for a starter, I fancy all in one 
 day, you know." He beamed down on her expectantly, 
 waiting for the response that did not come. But the 
 flushed face and shining eyes deceived him for the 
 moment, and he went on, without any suspicion as to 
 her mood : "Oh, yes, I'm a full-fledged business man. 
 Why, I've dictated a half-dozen letters since I saw 
 you. A bit busy, eh for me ?" 
 
 "I got one of them," Maggie said evenly, although 
 her voice came curiously muffled. Not for worlds 
 would she have let him know the tumult that raged 
 within her breast. First, she must gain command of 
 herself. She could never forgive herself if she were 
 to break down in the presence of this man, who now, 
 it seemed, was pleased to flout her misery by his pres-
 
 i 2 6 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 ence. Once sure of herself, she would show him the 
 contempt she felt, the abhorrence, in a manner he 
 would never forget. "Yes," she repeated, in a tone 
 that was listless from straining against the leash in 
 which she held it, "I received one of your letters." 
 
 "Eh? What's that?" The air of surprise assumed 
 by Joseph was so convincing that Maggie despised him 
 rather more than before, if such a thing were possible, 
 by reason of his hypocrisy. It was clear that the 
 young proprietor of Holbrooke and Company possessed 
 a vicious streak somewhere in his character, which 
 led him to delight in inflicting wanton cruelty. Other- 
 wise, how could he stand there in this paltry disguise 
 of innocence, watching the futile writhings of his 
 victim with the ferocious complacency of a beast of 
 prey? "Tell me explain, please, Miss Pepper," he 
 urged ; and his voice was suave, courteously pleading. 
 Oh, it was abominable! His malicious pretense of 
 ignorance stung the girl beyond endurance. 
 
 "You needn't play with me in that style," she cried, 
 harshly. "You know perfectly well what letter I refer 
 to." The eyes that met his were like steel in their 
 hardness, though the red lips were quivering strangely. 
 "I mean the letter you sent me in behalf of the firm, 
 the one signed with your initials the letter firing me.
 
 THE NEW BUYER 127 
 
 Oh, of course, I hurt your dignity talking the way 
 I did to you about Holbrooke and Company. But it 
 was you you sneak ! that led me on to it. You're 
 a contemptible cur, Mr. Joseph Holbrooke that's 
 just what I think of you. I tried to help you ! 
 I thought you were honest, and needed work. And 
 this is what I get for it. Oh, I hate you! Get away 
 from me!" As she finished the frenzied outburst, 
 Maggie sprang up from her chair, and made a violent 
 movement of repulsion toward Joseph, who was 
 staring at her with a face as white as hers had been, 
 before the wrath flooded it with crimson. Something 
 in his bearing seemed to press down on the girl's 
 wildness, soothing it little by little. For a few mo- 
 ments, she stood gasping, then, slowly, she ceased 
 trembling, the blood ebbed back to her heart. Her 
 eyes fell from his, at last; her face drooped to her 
 bosom. In another moment, she had hidden it in her 
 hands. 
 
 Not until she had thus returned to a condition of 
 comparative quietude did the young man utter a word. 
 Now, however, he spoke with low emphasis, precisely 
 to the point : 
 
 "I have written you no letter, Miss Pepper. So far 
 as my knowledge goes, you have not been fired."
 
 128 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 "What's the use of lying about it?" The girl 
 spoke the question brokenly, but distinctly. She was 
 still desirous of striking him down with her contempt, 
 although she had made rather a failure of the attempt 
 thus far. 
 
 Joseph preferred to ignore the unpleasant form in 
 which he had been interrogated. He retained his air 
 of kindly patience in the face of trial. One of his 
 sources of pride, as is the case with most men, was a 
 cherished belief that he understood women. As a 
 matter of fact, he was especially unlearned in wisdom 
 of the sex as, again, most men are. In this instance, 
 however, by good luck rather than by scientific reason- 
 ing, he was so fortunate as to follow the method best 
 suited to the emergency. His coolness distilled a dew 
 to assuage the fevers of the girl. His magnetism 
 tranquilized her from instant to instant increasingly. 
 So, now, when he addressed her again, she was ready 
 to listen with understanding, almost with an open 
 heart. 
 
 "On my honor, Miss Pepper," he said firmly, "I 
 am not guilty in any way. Please, believe me. Will 
 you not?" 
 
 Again, she declared to herself that the man was a 
 brute: and in the saying she felt that it was she who
 
 THE NEW BUYER 129 
 
 lied. She voiced a final protest weakly, without 
 conviction : 
 
 "Well, anyhow, you told Hargen what I said, and 
 he " 
 
 Joseph interrupted, sharply. The girl was lovely in 
 that pose of dejection, but he was eager to gaze again 
 into the splendid deeps of her eyes. It was time that 
 she acknowledged the fact of her error, that she 
 returned to a fair degree of happiness. It was shame- 
 ful that one thus beautiful should be so overwhelmed 
 with wretchedness as to call him names in such out- 
 rageous fashion. He did not mind it for himself, but 
 he could not bear it that she should be in a state of 
 mind to give way so completely. ... As he answered 
 her final attack, his voice was severe: 
 
 "I have never mentioned your name to Mr. Hargen, 
 Miss Pepper never in my life. Whatever he has 
 done, he did on his own authority, without consulting 
 me in any way, without my knowledge. For the rest, 
 you will know my attitude in the matter very shortly. 
 . . . Now, permit me, please." Joseph took the limp 
 fingers of the girl's right hand, which she yielded 
 reluctantly, and led her to her chair. "Just sit there 
 for a bit, and we'll make an end of this matter, right
 
 130 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 now." When she was seated, he went quickly to the 
 elevator-shaft, and rang the bell. 
 
 Almost immediately, the elevator appeared. Joseph 
 addressed the attendant in a voice of authority : 
 
 "Tell Mr. Hargen that Mr. Holbrooke wishes to 
 see him in the stock-room, at once." He returned to 
 his position near the desk, to await the coming of the 
 manager. Not a word was spoken in the interval. 
 When Mr. Hargen stepped from the elevator, he was 
 confronted by the chief owner of the firm, who 
 regarded him for a few moments in silence. Joseph's 
 face wore an inscrutable expression. 
 
 "Mr. Hargen," he said formally, "I have decided 
 to use my prerogative here for the first, but not the 
 last, time." His tones were as pleasant as usual. "I 
 have just decided that the position of buyer here shall 
 go to Miss Pepper. . . . And another thing: Don't 
 use merely your initials in signing letters. Since they 
 are the same as mine, the result is confusing." He 
 silenced the elder man by a quick gesture of command, 
 and turned to the startled girl, into whose cheeks the 
 red burned as by magic. "Good-day, Miss Pepper," 
 he said, cordially. "I hope that you will like your 
 new position."
 
 THE NEW BUYER 131 
 
 To himself, he added a sentence that could hardly 
 have interested anyone save himself : 
 
 "By Jove, this ought to tickle the ancestors!" The 
 satisfaction of having nobly accomplished his first duty 
 in the way of noblesse oblige so pleased him that he 
 faced the furious manager, who was tugging violently 
 at a wisp of whisker, with a delighted grin : 
 
 "And, now, Mr. Hargen," he concluded, "we'll go 
 down to the office, and have a talk." 
 
 Left alone, Maggie Pepper drew a gasping breath. 
 
 "Oh, bless his dear heart !" she cried. "And oh, 
 the names I called him!" Then, with the gray eyes 
 two stars and the joy pulsing hot in her blood, Maggie 
 Pepper dropped her head on her hands, and wept 
 herself into a blessed peacefulness.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 MAGGIE IN THE MAKING 
 
 MAGGIE PEPPER, whose fortunes had taken the de- 
 sired turn in a manner so unexpected, undoubtedly 
 deserved the success thus achieved. She had been 
 consistently ambitious; she had used every resource 
 at her command to force recognition of her merit from 
 the world in which she moved. Yet, it had seemed 
 at last that only failure was to be her portion; then, 
 by the interposition of a new personality on the scene, 
 victory had been seized for her out of the clutch of 
 defeat. In her first realization of the splendid fact, 
 Maggie was filled with glad content. She felt herself 
 amply repaid for all the wearisome struggle she had 
 carried on through years of service. 
 
 That struggle, indeed, deserves more than cursory 
 mention, for it had been exceptional. There are many 
 women who work faithfully enough day after day 
 through a lifetime, but there are few who bring to 
 their toil the qualities that were characteristic of 
 
 132
 
 MAGGIE IN THE MAKING 133 
 
 Maggie Pepper. Humdrum as the routine of her days 
 might have seemed to a careless observer, they were 
 dignified by the purpose that animated her throughout 
 and the intensity of the pains with which she strove 
 for betterment. 
 
 The girl came of ordinary wholesome American 
 stock, of which, however, she knew absolutely nothing 
 beyond her father and mother. These parents had been 
 kind to herself and her brother, Frank, who were the 
 only children to survive infancy. The father had been 
 a clerk with only just sufficient pay to support a tiny 
 flat, but there had been no actual privation. Maggie 
 was ready to enter the high school when the death of 
 her mother occurred. The effect of this loss on the 
 husband was deplorable. His sole pleasure had been 
 in the company of his wife, and the lack of it left him 
 derelict. He suffered mentally until the strain reacted 
 on his body, and made him an invalid. The expenses 
 of the wife's illness and death had consumed all the 
 meager savings. Now, when the father became in- 
 capacitated for work, there was no money for the 
 necessities of life. In consequence, the children were 
 forced to seek employment. Thus, at the age of fif- 
 teen, Maggie began the earning of a livelihood. For 
 a year, the father dragged on a wretched existence,
 
 134 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 then he died, and the two children were left with only 
 eacli other. 
 
 Yet, from the very outset, Maggie found keen satis- 
 faction in her work. Her intelligence was far beyond 
 the ordinary, and she speedily found solace in the 
 dreams of a lively ambition. She devoutly thanked 
 heaven that she lived in a generation when woman is 
 permitted to win success for herself in business life. 
 She regarded those who undertook household drud- 
 gery with a certain scorn that added to her content- 
 ment over her own manner of labor. She believed 
 that the possibilities of success were offered her freely. 
 It only required that she should deserve advancement, 
 and it would be given her. To this end, she zealously 
 set herself to the task of improvement in every way 
 suggested to her by keen powers of observation and 
 an active brain. Primarily, in the store, she performed 
 her duties with the extreme of fidelity. She felt that 
 she must make herself known as absolutely faithful 
 there, if she were to hope for preferment. Without 
 ostentation, she managed so skilfully that she was soon 
 rewarded by advancement, and this was repeated at 
 intervals through the years. 
 
 Maggie's ideas of development were not, however, 
 limited to the direct duties of her employment. Her
 
 MAGGIE IN THE MAKING 135 
 
 ambition was too large to consider only the petty 
 progress through the various departments of Hol- 
 brooke and Company's establishment. She was minded 
 to become a person of real importance in the world. 
 It was borne in on her that to this end she should 
 have health and beauty and the most possible of train- 
 ing in mind and manners. These things she sought 
 to acquire as best she might by observation of the 
 models that came within her range of vision, and by 
 reading of such books and magazines as she could 
 afford. She lived with the utmost simplicity, avoiding 
 the usual recreations of those in her own walk of life, 
 for the simple reason that they did not appeal to her. 
 She was so amiable to her fellows in the store that 
 this attitude of aloofness did not make her unpopular, 
 although it provoked a mild wonder. And, since she 
 was not out merry-making of nights, she had fime for 
 her reading and for those many personal attentions to 
 which she came presently. 
 
 Under any circumstances, Maggie would have ap- 
 peared as a handsome girl, but it was due to her own 
 will and practise that she became radiantly lovely to 
 such an extent as to charm the eyes of Joseph Hol- 
 brooke or any other man at the first glance. She 
 became convinced that health and beauty, if not always
 
 136 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 the same thing, are often the closest of relations, and 
 she undertook to possess both in her own person. 
 She avowedly believed it a part of her duty to be as 
 beautiful as possible. Instinct taught her the supreme 
 value of loveliness to a woman, and observation con- 
 firmed the truth. She regarded her body as a precious 
 possession, and treated it with infinite care. Her 
 chief extravagance was in the purchase of toilet prepa- 
 rations, which she learned to employ with the art of 
 a professional beauty. It was as the result of such 
 ministrations, combined with perfect health and vigor 
 due to hygienic living, that her skin became like satin, 
 and of a coloring exquisite and flawless ; that the hair 
 was luxuriant and glossed like a burnished metal ; that 
 the eyes were as limpid as those of a fawn; that her 
 every movement and posture were replete with grace. 
 Over and beyond such details, which were visible to the 
 observer, there was about her the impalpable mag- 
 netism that fascinates, the product of abounding 
 vitality. 
 
 It was inevitable that a charm such as hers should 
 have brought temptations upon her. But reading had 
 warned her of certain dangers; shrewd watching of 
 events around about her told more. She had seen 
 girls assailed by evil in innocent guise, had seen dis-
 
 MAGGIE IN THE MAKING 137 
 
 aster come upon those that yielded. Warm-hearted, 
 generous, eager for love, she might easily have fallen 
 a victim herself, had it not been for the clear brain 
 that pointed the path toward safety, and the strong 
 will that regulated her whole life. She avoided peril 
 by not putting herself in surroundings where strength 
 might be sapped to weakness. So, she went on her 
 way, worldly wise, yet unspotted of the world. Her 
 ambition was the amulet that shielded her always. 
 She could endure patiently through these years of lone- 
 liness, because thus alone was possible the growth she 
 demanded for herself. She comforted herself with the 
 conviction that in the days to come she would be 
 repaid in overflowing measure for all that she had 
 sacrificed. 
 
 Only two affairs of the heart disturbed the tran- 
 quillity with which Maggie followed the course on 
 which she had determined. The first was before she 
 had reached twenty, and it was a girlish romance of 
 that foolish sort which her age is prone to indulge. 
 Her intelligence was not in the least concerned, except 
 to disapprove mildly. It was simply a temporary 
 visualization of her earliest ideal concerning manly 
 beauty in the person of one of the floor-walkers. For 
 that matter, even in this folly, Maggie was exceptional,
 
 138 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 for the fellow was by no means one of the inane sort 
 that usually appeals to the tender miss. On the con- 
 trary, he was a tall, broad-shouldered young man, with 
 a handsome, intelligent face, and an air of reserved 
 power that suggested possibilities beyond his present 
 situation. The girl worshipped him from afar, very 
 humbly, with no thought whatsoever of any intimacy 
 between them. As a matter of fact, the floor-walker 
 presently disappeared from the establishment of Hol- 
 brooke and Company, and the girl's cautious inquiries 
 could elicit no information concerning what had 
 become of him. She mourned over him quietly, but 
 without any passionate sorrow, dreamed many dreams 
 of the great things he was destined to accomplish in the 
 world, and soon forgot him completely. That little 
 romance did her no harm at all, and probably no 
 particular good, since there was in it no suffering suffi- 
 cient to build character. 
 
 The second affair of the heart was more tense. This 
 was with a broker's clerk, who had a room in the house 
 where she was boarding at the time, when she had just 
 passed her twenty-second birthday. The young man 
 was impressed mightily on first sight of Maggie, and, 
 being a person of energy and resource, he cultivated 
 the girl's acquaintance so well that she permitted him
 
 MAGGIE IN THE MAKING 139 
 
 a degree of companionship heretofore steadfastly 
 refused to all comers. He possessed good looks, 
 cleverness, and a disposition well calculated to attract 
 any woman. His prospects were excellent, and Mag- 
 gie's intelligence could point out no danger from an 
 association that was so agreeable. He stirred her 
 heart deeply, and would have won it, save for his own 
 wrong-doing. He came late to an engagement with 
 the girl, and it was plain that he had been drinking 
 more than was good for him. Maggie made a few 
 concise reproaches, which he accepted in good part, 
 and he swore solemnly never to touch liquor again. 
 Within a week, he appeared before her for the second 
 time half-drunken. The girl made no protest whatever 
 on this occasion. But, when she was alone, she took 
 counsel with common sense, while her heart cried out 
 in vain against the decree. She reasoned that her 
 lover had no sense of honor, since he could thus readily 
 break his vow, or else that he had no strength of will 
 with which to keep it. In either case, she could feel 
 only contempt for a character so weak. She had no 
 intention of entrusting her life's happiness to one of 
 his kind. She broke off the intimacy at once, despite 
 the pleadings of the young man, who, to do him 
 justice, loved her sincerely. The episode made a
 
 1 40 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 woman of the girl. She had cared much for this 
 lover, and it wounded her sore to give him up. The 
 suffering she underwent broadened her, deepened her 
 sympathies, strengthened her. Out of the ache of a 
 new loneliness grew a finer self-reliance. She realized 
 suddenly that the only love worth while, the only love 
 to fashion a life's happiness, must be that of the whole 
 being-, where head and heart alike give fealty, without 
 doubt or reservation. 
 
 The chief difficulty in the way of Maggie's ambition 
 was that to which she had referred in her conversation 
 with Hattie Murphy, when, in a moment of petulance, 
 she bewailed her ignorance of ladylike things. As her 
 nature expanded, she came to appreciate more and 
 more the limitations of her own existence. Her up- 
 bringing had been of a narrow sort. Her parents, 
 kindly and well-intentioned as they were, had not 
 been of the sort to fashion a child's manner 
 along lines of elegance. They had been plain 
 persons, not gentlefolk. As her reading widened, 
 she grew little by little to realize the differ- 
 ence that training makes. So, since she was not born 
 to the graces of deportment, she did her utmost to 
 acquire them. Unfortunately, her environment was 
 ill-suited to her needs in this regard. Her fellows in
 
 MAGGIE IN THE MAKING 141 
 
 the store were by no means models to be imitated. 
 There were, to be sure, the customers, whom she might 
 study and copy. Alas, there was only a very small 
 proportion of these who were adapted to serve her 
 purposes, and those few, by reason of a certain incon- 
 spicuousness, were likely to escape observation. She 
 realized fully, too, that even gentlewomen were not 
 always to be seen at their best whilst on a shopping 
 expedition. Despite these drawbacks, however, Mag- 
 gie used her best endeavors, and gathered stores of 
 information, very slowly, here a little, there a little, 
 with unfaltering patience and industry. 
 
 She gained much, of course, from her reading, and, 
 indeed, was fairly competent to edit the etiquette 
 department of a woman's magazine out of a wisdom 
 almost wholly theoretical, as yet quite unpractised on 
 account of the exigencies of her surroundings. She 
 thought that the pictures of high life displayed in 
 some of the dramas might assist her toward knowl- 
 edge, and she was assiduous in attendance on plays of 
 the requisite character. Here, too, however, she was 
 confronted by her inability to determine just what 
 was right and just what was wrong in the manners 
 presented by actors and actresses. Out of her own 
 wisdom, she was able to detect certain inelegancies,
 
 142 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 crudities, absurdities, in the portrayal of gentility. 
 Rendered suspicious, she guessed more. 
 
 Notwithstanding all the obstacles that opposed her 
 progress, notwithstanding, too, the dissatisfaction she 
 experienced concerning her advance, Maggie accom- 
 plished wonders in reality. Her habit of life and 
 thought itself induced a refinement that reacted through 
 her bearing at all times. Whether born with a strain 
 of blue blood, or whether it was solely the result of her 
 system of life, the girl had come into possession of an 
 instinct that many ladies might well have envied. 
 Though she was totally unaware of it herself, an air 
 of breeding went with her as an aura. Those who 
 came into association with her felt the subtle influence 
 instantly. There was about her ordinarily a poise 
 that was worth any quantity of the merely formal 
 attributes of good-breeding. 
 
 Finally, there was in her at its highest the American 
 facility for adaptation and assimilation. The women 
 of other countries follow the conventions come down 
 to them from preceding generations. A certain con- 
 servatism is born in them, of the blood ; it is common 
 to peasant and princess alike. The American woman 
 is restrained by no such hamper. Rather, the instinct 
 for change is born in her, the craving for new and 
 better expression. It is a part of the general character
 
 MAGGIE IN THE MAKING 143 
 
 of the nation, with its offer of great possibilities for 
 advancement to each and all. In other lands, one may 
 guess the social status of a woman by her appearance, 
 with no likelihood of error. Here, the shopgirl may 
 ape the duchess, and do it to perfection. It is most 
 hazardous to assert the social position of any woman 
 merely from the way she is garbed and bears herself. 
 Speech offers a safer guide, but even it may deceive. 
 And Maggie possessed the quality of assimilation to a 
 marvelous extent, although of this, too, she was quite 
 ignorant, at least so far as understanding its effect on 
 her appearance and manner. As a matter of fact, she 
 dressed herself modishly, irreproachably. Her means 
 permitted no extravagance, so she avoided the danger 
 of over-dressing. She wore her clothes as clothes 
 should be worn, with a serene consciousness that she 
 was fittingly clad, and no concern beyond that fact, 
 once the costume was completed. In her carriage, as 
 well, she reflected the dignity that was the due of her 
 high ambition. 
 
 Luckily, Maggie Pepper enjoyed a nature that could 
 not be spoiled by imposing upon it the superficial 
 graces. She was honest, genuine, buoyant, and blest 
 with a joyous sense of humor that carried her trium- 
 phantly through many an hour of weariness. She was 
 broad in her interests, and instinctively friendly toward
 
 144 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 all the world. These qualities saved her from a narrow 
 selfishness that otherwise might easily have been 
 fostered by her persistent ambition. In like fashion, 
 it prevented her from becoming in any way priggish as 
 she improved herself within and without by constant 
 care. The spontaneous charm that was her birthright 
 was never diminished by the graces she adopted for 
 her own. She was beautiful and good and astonish- 
 ingly elegant, but she was always, too, a lively, high- 
 spirited girl, rather emotional at times, tempestuous 
 on occasion. She had none of the tiresomeness of 
 perfection, but was very human, and very lovable. 
 
 It was inevitable, then, that Joseph Holbrooke 
 should at once have influenced Maggie profoundly. 
 He was the first man with whom she had ever spoken 
 who was of the superior class toward which she aspired 
 so earnestly. His manner toward her had been some- 
 thing that she had imagined dimly in her dreaming, 
 but had never experienced in real life. The ease in his 
 bearing, too, was the sure evidence that it was wholly 
 a matter of nature, due to the circumstances of his life, 
 without any trace of self-consciousness. In the other 
 sex, he presented precisely the ideal toward which she 
 had so long striven for herself. The fact in- 
 stantly placed her en rapport with Joseph, in a 
 manner that was essentially different from any rela-
 
 MAGGIE IN THE MAKING 145 
 
 tionship she had hitherto known. The effect was 
 intensified by the young gentleman's attractive 
 face and the geniality with which he had con- 
 ducted himself during their first interview. Then 
 had come the interval where all this charm of his 
 personality did but serve to emphasize her distress 
 over the ungenerousness of his action in regard to 
 her, as she had mistakenly viewed the situation. Now, 
 since she had learned of her error, she was moved to 
 esteem him the more by reason of her former injustice. 
 She had deserved the gratification of her ambition, but 
 merit had not sufficed to attain it. On the contrary, 
 she had been harshly denied the advancement she 
 desired. It was only the interposition of this newcomer 
 into her life that had given her success. She was fully 
 aware that her position as buyer came as the gift of 
 Joseph Holbrooke. She had no scruple in accepting 
 it as such. Indeed, she felt that, whatever the method 
 of its attainment, the place was no more than her due. 
 She felt, however, that all her gratitude should go to 
 him who had given her the victory. It seemed to her 
 now that there could no longer be any bitterness in 
 life. She was, in truth, inordinately happy over the 
 course of events, and, when her musings turned, as 
 they constantly did, on Joseph, they were very, very 
 tender.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 SCANDAL 
 
 THE Marquis de Brensac sighed wistfully as he fin- 
 ished reading one of Zorzi's poems in the Provencal, 
 and laid the book aside. Somehow, to-day, he was 
 weary of the dead and gone folk. For the moment, 
 he was regretful that he was not concerned more 
 directly with the world of living men and women. He 
 was thinking just then that he would be glad to influ- 
 ence, were it ever so humbly, the lives of his fellows. 
 He sought to put the idea from him, but it persisted. 
 He was possessed of a yearning, so to speak, for 
 having a ringer in the pie of contemporaneous destiny 
 though he would have been shocked, indeed, by 
 putting the fact thus baldly. 
 
 How great must have been the joy of the marquis 
 could he have looked in at a smart restaurant on Fifth 
 Avenue, New York, one spring noontime, and have 
 there beheld Joseph Holbrooke and Maggie Pepper 
 engaged in agreeable conversation over an excellently 
 devised luncheon ! That is to say, could he have seen 
 
 146
 
 SCANDAL 147 
 
 with full understanding of the truth that their happi- 
 ness in this hour, and in many others, was of his own 
 accomplishment, wrought by him as the agent of 
 destiny, with Joseph as the medium. 
 
 In the three months since Maggie had sobbed herself 
 into blissful tranquillity, much of prime importance 
 had occurred to herself, to Joseph and to Holbrooke 
 and Company also, to many another, more or less 
 directly allied with these principals. Naturally enough, 
 immediately after Joseph's drastic method of excul- 
 pating himself in the eyes of the girl, the relations of 
 the two became of the friendliest. Maggie was pro- 
 foundly grateful to the man who had given her the 
 ambition of her life and had assured the well-being of 
 the child dependent on her. Her instinctive liking for 
 him was now strengthened by one of the chief impulses 
 of the heart. As to Joseph, he was first of all attracted 
 by the beauty of this employee, which never failed to 
 delight his eyes. Afterward, he regarded her with 
 that feeling of proprietary satisfaction with which we 
 repay ourselves for every service rendered another. 
 She was, in reality, the creature of his making, and he 
 exulted in the sense of creatorship, although he would 
 have been extremely indignant had some analytical 
 theorist explained the matter to him in this fashion. 
 Then, finally, he was enthralled by the personality of
 
 148 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 the girl as a whole. It was not merely the beauty of 
 her that drew him. After a little, this was the least of 
 her allurement, though it was ever present and ever 
 strong. As the intimacy between them progressed, 
 the young man found her mind even more fascinating 
 to him than was her physical self. She pleased him 
 equally well in her moods of merriment and in her 
 periods of seriousness over business concerns. 
 
 It was business, in fact, that fashioned the Platonic 
 mask which Joseph and Maggie wore. It was business 
 that justified Maggie in encouraging the proprietor of 
 Holbrooke and Company to seek her society assidu- 
 ously; it was business that drove Joseph to constant 
 consultations with his buyer, who had more brains in 
 her little finger than had all the rest of the establish- 
 ment, including its head, as he cheerfully told himself 
 in endless repetitions. For that matter, business 
 appeared almost to justify the Platonic just this once. 
 . . . Unquestionably, Joseph was right as to his 
 buyer's brains. 
 
 Maggie, at the proprietors solicitation, explained 
 in full her ideas as to the manner in which the business 
 should be conducted. Joseph, ever mindful of his 
 duties to the blood, treasured her every suggestion in 
 detail, and put it in execution forthwith. Hargen pro- 
 tested and fumed, but in vain. He raged against every
 
 SCANDAL 149 
 
 innovation, but the innovations came and stayed. 
 The establishment was metamorphosed, and success 
 crowned change. The store was completely restocked, 
 and with consummate skill. Soon, the fact that any- 
 thing issued from Holbrooke and Company gave it a 
 cachet of smartness. The saleswomen became beauties ; 
 the models became miracles of loveliness. All the 
 devices by which the proffer of something for nothing 
 wheedles money from folk were speedily installed in 
 their most enticing guise. There were free collations 
 of the daintest the principle of the bar-room lunch 
 adapted and sublimated ; there were art galleries ; there 
 were concerts; there were other things in luxurious 
 profusion; and collations, galleries, concerts and other 
 things were of the very best. All were devised and 
 elaborated by the shrewd and ingenious Maggie, ac- 
 cepted and made real by the receptive and industrious 
 Joseph. Crowds swarmed in the aisles of Holbrooke 
 and Company, and the fame of the young proprietor 
 went abroad in the land. He was christened the 
 Napoleon of Commerce. . . . And, being an honest 
 gentleman, and, too, desirous of any excuse for seeking 
 her company, Joseph, when he first learned of this new 
 designation, sought Maggie out and thanked her very 
 humbly for the glory she had brought to him and to 
 his blood.
 
 150 'MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 But the most golden cloud has its black lining. In 
 the case of Holbrooke and Company, this was scandal. 
 Despite the excellence of the business mask, gossip 
 sought to tear it from the friendship of the two young 
 persons, sure that something meretricious lay hidden 
 beneath. They were seen together almost constantly, 
 and the nature of the world is such that when a per- 
 sonable young man and a pretty woman spend the bulk 
 of their time in each other's company it is presumed 
 they are in love. Else, why should they be together 
 so often? Business! Pooh! At their age, business 
 may account for a certain amount of intimacy: only 
 love can explain it all. 
 
 So, the tongue of scandal wagged fast and faster. 
 It was heard throughout the departments of Holbrooke 
 and Company; it was heard in the boudoirs and clubs 
 of society. The only place, in short, where it was not 
 heard was in the ears of the two most nearly con- 
 cerned, as is usually the case. 
 
 Joseph, if he had been a person of keener observa- 
 tion and more deductive reasoning, might have 
 suspected something wrong from the manner of his 
 betrothed, who had developed a capriciousness in her 
 treatment of him that was significant of something, 
 as he himself ruefully admitted with much head-shak- 
 ing. Beyond this, he did not go. Ethel, by turns,
 
 SCANDAL 151 
 
 tried the blandishments of her loveliness and the stings 
 of her temper in vain to provoke him into an investi- 
 gation. He admired her beauty, but it did not arouse 
 his passion ; he withstood her flurries of anger stolidly : 
 the sole effect of them was to make him wonder dole- 
 fully as to what her behavior as a wife would be. That 
 he was deeply in love with his fiance, he did not doubt. 
 He had formed the habit before he met Maggie, and, 
 since, as has been said, he was by no means ^iven to 
 introspection, it never occurred to him to question the 
 state of his heart. The fact that he suffered boredom, 
 or worse, in the company of Ethel, while he always 
 took delight in that of Maggie, never attracted his 
 attention as of vital significance. . . . His stupidity 
 was extraordinary : it is more extraordinary that there 
 are so many men like that. 
 
 For Maggie, with her clear perceptive powers, there 
 would have been less excuse, but for the extenuating 
 circumstances that clouded judgment. In the first 
 place, her gratitude led her to feel subject always to 
 Joseph's wishes; in the second place, the business 
 seemed to require their association frequently; in the 
 third place, she knew that Joseph could not fall a 
 victim to her charms, for he was already engaged to 
 the loveliest girl in the world, whom he loved to dis- 
 traction : he had told her so himself, repeatedly.
 
 152 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 There was, however, still another excuse for Maggie 
 something that made what should have been her bed 
 of rose-leaves one of thorns. 
 
 This was an outgrowth of her love for the child, 
 Margie. With the increased income of her position as 
 buyer, she was able to send the child to a select school, 
 where the child was taught the niceties of breeding as 
 well as things of common learning. Maggie frankly 
 reveled over her niece's progress in acquiring a lady- 
 like behavior for which she herself had mourned. She 
 confided her own need to Margie, was duly instructed 
 in all the elegancies insisted on by the mistress of the 
 school. With information eked out from a number of 
 books on etiquette and from close observation in res- 
 taurants of the best class, which she now frequented, 
 Maggie made marvelous strides in her advance toward 
 the bearing of a Vere De Vere. In addition, she kept 
 herself exactly informed of the studies followed by the 
 girl, purchased the necessary books, and evening after 
 evening assimilated their contents. Already, within 
 the quarter of a year, she had broadened her mind 
 amazingly, for her natural intelligence found deep 
 pleasure in the new exercise. Her improved manner 
 of speech was a never-failing source of wonder to the 
 adoring Hattie Murphy. Fortunately, Maggie's char- 
 acter was of a sort to take on such veneer without ob-
 
 SCANDAL 153 
 
 souring or tainting the pure gold of the woman 
 beneath. 
 
 The shadow that loomed darkly back of this sun- 
 shiny life was Jack Darkin. Maggie had, according 
 to her promise to the child, used such means as she 
 could command, and had finally, with much difficulty, 
 secured the release of Ada from prison on parole. 
 From his wife, Darkin learned the whereabouts of the 
 child, and at once instituted a system of blackmail. 
 Fearful lest he carry out his threats and take Margie 
 from her, Maggie endured his extortion. With a 
 sensitive woman's dread of legal procedure, she was 
 awed by his assertion that he would seize the child 
 through process of law, unless she complied with his 
 demands. So, she paid him money again and again, 
 all that she could afford and more. In the end, 
 indeed, his requirements, grown too rapacious by 
 success, were beyond her means to satisfy. She was 
 even forced to apply to Hargen for a thousand dollars 
 advance on her salary, which was refused. ... It 
 was this trouble, caused by Darkin's exactions, that 
 blinded her as to the impropriety of her intercourse 
 with Joseph. 
 
 It was Mrs. Thatcher, who, out of the kindness of 
 her heart, at last undertook the task of opening 
 Maggie's eyes.
 
 154 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 Yet, the detective hesitated when she stood looking 
 down on the smiling face that was lifted in radiant 
 greeting from the buyer's desk. An elusive grace and 
 dignity, newly come to the girl whom she had known 
 so long, gave the woman pause. She felt, somehow, 
 as if she had no right to intrude on the privacy of 
 this person. She was firmly convinced concerning the 
 integrity of her purpose, and, therefore, this sudden 
 reluctance impressed her the more. She alluded to it 
 in a round-about fashion. 
 
 "Ada Darkin is watching Margie," she said, after 
 a few friendly phrases had been exchanged. "But I 
 don't think she means any harm. It's surely wonderful 
 what you've done for that child, Maggie. She don't 
 seem like the same person, at all. She's so pretty and 
 well-behaved ! And, gracious ! Maggie, you, too, don't 
 seem like the same woman, some way. What's come 
 over you, all of a sudden?" 
 
 The dimple fluttered in the girl's cheek, and the 
 warm deeps of the eyes shone more brilliantly; the 
 red bow of her lips bent happily as it parted for speech. 
 
 "It's study and education that have done it," she 
 confessed, without hesitation, proud in her humility. 
 "Before, I didn't know anything except business : now, 
 I'm beginning to learn other things oh, just the 
 littlest bit ! but I'm beginning. For three months now,
 
 SCANDAL 155 
 
 Margie and I have been working mighty hard to 
 improve ourselves in grammar and other things. A 
 body can learn a lot in three months and learn what 
 a sight more there is to come after." 
 
 "You're a wonder, Maggie Pepper," the detective 
 declared, admiringly. "No, you're not the same 
 woman and you've done it all yourself, too. I just 
 love you for that, Maggie. But it's because I do love 
 you, my dear, that I can't stand by without saying a 
 word. It's my duty to speak right up in meeting, 
 and I'm going to." She paused, and the whimsical 
 smile vanished as she stared gravely into the girl's 
 startled face. "I mean this," she went on, her voice 
 harsh from the effort it cost to speak the thing that 
 must wound her friend. "Mr. Holbrooke has got to 
 stop queering your reputation. You know the repu- 
 tation he earned while he was over in Europe. Well, 
 everybody is talking about the attention he pays you. 
 It's in business, and it's outside. Why, when any of 
 the wholesale men, even, asks him a question, he refers 
 them to you. Do you know the joke that's all over 
 the city? They call this establishment the Pepper 
 Pot." 
 
 Maggie's eyes had fallen in confusion. Of a sudden, 
 a great embarrassment swept over her, engulfing her 
 in its flood. A shame, unlike any she had ever known,
 
 156 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 tingled in every drop of her blood. She could not 
 understand the emotion. She did not realize that, in 
 the instant, the veil shrouding the dearest secret of 
 her heart a secret so subtly hidden that it was not 
 understood even by herself had been ruthlessly torn 
 aside. For the time, she was too peturbed to gaze 
 within, but afterward, soon, she would turn her eyes 
 to look on the holy place of her own being, and there, 
 through the rent, she would behold the glory and the 
 sorrow of a woman, her love for a man. Now, how- 
 ever, she knew no more than that she was shocked, 
 hurt, angry, ashamed beyond any reason. 
 
 "He he has great confidence in my judgment," 
 she faltered, without raising her eyes. 
 
 "No doubt he has," Mrs. Thatcher agreed, dryly; 
 "so much, in fact, that Miss Hargen is having you 
 watched. I ought not to betray professional confi- 
 dences, but I'm making an exception in your behalf. 
 Miss Ethel came to me, and asked me to take the job. 
 I declined, because I'm your friend. But somebody 
 else has that same job, right now." 
 
 Maggie shrank, with a gesture of repulsion. The 
 idea sickened her. 
 
 "Watched !" she gasped. "As if I were !" 
 
 "Exactly !" Mrs. Thatcher remarked with emphasis, 
 to turn the iron in the wound. "It's best that you
 
 SCANDAL 157 
 
 should be on your guard. I read some poetry once in 
 a book, about a woman scorned raising hell. I've an 
 idea from the way she looked and acted, when she 
 was talking to me, that Ethel Hargen thinks she's been 
 scorned, and that you're the cause of it ; and she's going 
 to live up to schedule just the way the poetry man 
 suggested. My dear, she's so jealous you could scrape 
 the green off her. She let out by mistake that she 
 wants the wedding to come off right away; but he 
 won't stand for it 'Says he's too busy for honey- 
 mooning. Nice way for a lover to talk, I must say. 
 . . . And she thinks and I'm not saying she's 
 wrong that you're the cause of it." The detective, 
 casting a long, regretful look down on the face which 
 had whitened perceptibly, felt that she had done her 
 disagreeable duty effectively. "Well, I've got to get 
 busy. So-long, Maggie," she said, and, with a sigh, 
 turned away, leaving the girl bowed in a stricken 
 silence.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 JAKE'S GIFT 
 
 DURING a week, Maggie carried her new knowledge 
 as to the scandal that had touched her relations with 
 Joseph, and kept it a secret for herself alone. Before 
 the time was half-gone, she had become aware, too, 
 of the reason for the shame that had so startled her 
 at the time when Mrs. Thatcher made the revelation. 
 She knew now that she loved the man with whom 
 gossip had already linked her name, and the fact gave 
 her mingled bliss and torment. It was a dreadful 
 thing that she should have given her heart unasked, 
 and that, too, to one already plighted. The only 
 expiation she could make was to keep the truth for- 
 ever locked away in her own breast from all the world, 
 most of all from him who had aroused for himself 
 all the rich tenderness of her nature. It was neces- 
 sary, however, in order to quiet the scandal, that she 
 should have some sort of explanation with Joseph, and 
 thus bring to an end the intimacy that had caused 
 comment. To do this without betraying the true state
 
 JAKE'S GIFT 159 
 
 of her feeling's would, she was certain, be a task to 
 strain all her powers. Nevertheless, she nerved herself 
 for the ordeal, and, at last, after seven days of vacil- 
 lating, brought herself to the acting point. 
 
 Yet, on the day she had privately set for the per- 
 formance of her duty, she found herself weakly hesi- 
 tating. She wilfully let slip two opportunities in the 
 morning, when she chanced to be alone with the 
 proprietor. She guessed, however, that he would 
 appear again soon, to ask for her company at luncheon, 
 and she was firm in her determination to introduce the 
 topic at that time. In spite of her brave resolution, 
 she was relieved when the next visitor proved to be 
 Jake Rothschild. For the first time since she had 
 known the jobber, she was genuinely glad to see him. 
 She observed with much amusement that the newcomer 
 was appareled with even more, than his accustomed 
 gorgeousness, and, for the diversion it might afford 
 her thoughts, she straightway showed an interest. 
 
 "What are you made up for, Jake?" she inquired, 
 with a smile so radiant that the surprised jobber fairly 
 blinked. 
 
 "Well," he rejoined unctuously, "when a gentleman 
 has particular business with a lady, he wants to look 
 like something. What?"
 
 160 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 "You do, Jake oh, yes, you certainly do !" Maggie 
 admitted ; and her voice rippled into laughter. 
 
 "Eh? Like what?" Jake inquired, vastly gratified 
 by the attention he was attracting; for Hattie, too, 
 was regarding him with manifest wonder. 
 
 "I wouldn't dare to tell you," Maggie answered, 
 gravely. "In the book on etiquette, it says that a lady 
 must not use strong language." 
 
 Hattie giggled hysterically, as she scrutinized the 
 color scheme ingeniously put together by Mr. Roth- 
 schild, in contravention of all canons ever devised. 
 But the clamorously clad gentleman was puzzled. He 
 contented himself with smoothing fondly the gloves 
 which he carried in his hand. 
 
 "A dollar and a quarter!" he ejaculated, proudly. 
 "But never mind now," he went on, approaching the 
 desk closely, and bending down to make sure that 
 Hattie should not overhear. "I have business with 
 you business which is a pleasure, and pleasure comes 
 high in this world." He leaned even lower, while 
 Maggie regarded his manoeuvering in perplexity, and 
 from his pocket drew forth a small parcel, wrapped 
 in tissue paper. "Hush !" he continued, with a cautious 
 glance around. "You wouldn't take any commission, 
 so I put the same money into a pin. Sh ! Slip it in 
 your pocket quick, before anybody sees."
 
 JAKE'S GIFT 161 
 
 Maggie threw herself back in her chair; her face 
 expressed a vehement disgust. 
 
 "A bribe!" she exclaimed, sharply. Her thoughts 
 worked swiftly. After a moment, she snapped a ques- 
 tion at the expectant Jake : "What's the value of this 
 pin?" 
 
 "So help me!" was the mournful response; "it cost 
 four hundred dollars." 
 
 At the buyer's next remark, delivered in a level 
 voice, Jake jumped as if he had made contact with a 
 particularly lively wire. 
 
 "Just make out a check for four hundred dollars, 
 and give it to Holbrooke and Company as con- 
 science money." 
 
 "Eh? What's conscience money? Conscience!" 
 If the jobber had any knowledge of the subject, it was 
 strictly limited to the theoretical. 
 
 "It simply means that you admit this money is 
 Holbrooke and Company's, not yours." 
 
 Jake promptly dodged this issue, following a pro- 
 fessional habit in his next subject. 
 
 "I said it cost four hundred, but I only paid two 
 hundred it's worth six." 
 
 "What a prolific liar you are, Jake!" Maggie de- 
 clared, with a wintry smile, which, for some unex- 
 plained reason, alarmed the man exceedingly.
 
 1 62 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 "I don't mind your calling- me a liar," he said, 
 generously. "That's only business. But that 'prolific' 
 now that ain't language for a lady to use, nohow. 
 It sounds awful ! I guess sometimes you forget I'm a 
 married man." 
 
 "I'd forget all about you, if you'd let me," Maggie 
 answered, wearily. "But come, hurry with that check. 
 I'm not joking about it." 
 
 Jake tried the usual tactics, but in vain. He con- 
 tested each step of defeat. He argued for two hun- 
 dred, prayed for three, and wept for three-fifty, 
 without avail. In the end, he passed over the check 
 for four hundred, and went forth a chastened man. 
 
 "She is some woman! What?" There was pro- 
 found admiration running through his sorrow. "What 
 a wife if she wasn't so honest !" 
 
 It was another reprieve from the ordeal for Maggie, 
 when, just after the discomfited jobber's departure, 
 Hargen entered the stock-room, and came straight to 
 the buyer's desk. Notwithstanding the strained rela- 
 tions between them, the girl on this occasion favored 
 him with a little smile, since he represented delay in 
 the one thing important. 
 
 "Will you take this check, sir?" she asked, and 
 extended the one so reluctantly abandoned by Jake. 
 "It represents an overcharge."
 
 JAKE'S GIFT 163 
 
 "It is the buyer's place to see that there are no 
 overcharges," the manager snarled. He regarded 
 Maggie with a malevolent eye, as he pulled deter- 
 minedly at his wisp of whisker. "Mr. Murchison tells 
 me that you asked for a thousand dollars advance 
 salary. He has informed you doubtless of my refusal. 
 I wish you to understand that this is not a bank. 
 You're getting a large salary as it is very, very 
 large ! And another thing : Miss Pepper, I distinctly 
 disapprove of this vulgar display in having living 
 women exhibit gowns to customers. It isn't decent." 
 
 The color rose in Maggie's cheeks; yet, she held 
 her voice to its usual musical level as she replied : 
 
 "Our sales have doubled in the last three months." 
 
 But Hargen was not wishful to argue. He jumped 
 to another objection: 
 
 "Fancy restaurants music and vaudeville enter- 
 tainments in a business house ! I tell you it is all most 
 unbusinesslike." 
 
 "The store is crowded; the business is simply 
 enormous," came the cool retort. 
 
 "A low, catch-penny show !" Hargen stormed. "It's 
 not legitimate business, I tell you!" 
 
 Maggie retained self-control in the face of the 
 manager's rudeness. 
 
 "It's what the public wants," she said, evenly. "If
 
 i 64 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 they want low, catch-penny shows, as you term them, 
 then we have to give them that sort of thing. They 
 want a lot for their money. If we don't give it to 
 them, they'll go to the store where they can get it." 
 
 "I don't want to discuss the matter with you," 
 Hargen blustered. 
 
 "If you prefer, sir," Maggie continued, ill-advisedly, 
 "I'll consult with Mr. Holbrooke in reference to the 
 matter." 
 
 The manager took advantage of the opening in- 
 stantly, and retorted in a voice of great severity: 
 
 "I wish, Miss Pepper, that you would consult less 
 with Mr. Holbrooke." 
 
 Maggie raised her eyes to the speaker's in a quick 
 alarm, then dropped them again in confusion. She 
 rebuked herself for having thus given her enemy the 
 chance to attack her in the most vulnerable point. 
 
 "I I don't understand," she said slowly, and, in 
 spite of her effort against it, her voice quavered 
 slightly. 
 
 "Oh, perhaps not," Hargen replied, in a manner 
 intangibly insulting. "And, by the way," he went on, 
 suggestively, "I suppose you are aware of his impend- 
 ing marriage with my niece. Still, in your very busy 
 life here, the fact may have escaped your notice." 
 
 The inference he intended was unmistakable so
 
 JAKE'S GIFT 165 
 
 unmistakable, indeed, that involuntarily Maggie 
 winced, and her hand went to her bosom in a gesture 
 of suffering. The manager's lips bent in a smile of 
 satisfaction over the manner in which his bolt had 
 struck home. He was about to speak again, when he 
 was interrupted by the sudden appearance of the pros- 
 pective bridegroom whom he had just mentioned. 
 
 Joseph was undoubtedly in the best of spirits. His 
 face was wreathed in smiles. Doing his duty to the 
 family and tradition and noblesse oblige agreed with 
 the heir of Holbrooke and Company. 
 
 "The place is packed jammed full," he exclaimed, 
 with a joyous chuckle. "Simply can't keep 'em out, 
 you know. . . . We need more saleswomen and sales- 
 men, both," he added. "I wish you'd see to it right 
 away, Mr. Hargen." 
 
 The manager, however, did not relax the austerity 
 of his demeanor in response to Joseph's good-nature. 
 On the contrary, he frowned darkly, as he replied : 
 
 "I'm afraid that people are attracted more by our 
 flamboyant methods of advertising than they are by 
 our wares themselves. Most of them merely come here 
 to amuse themselves." 
 
 "Oh, do they !" Joseph exclaimed, with undiminished 
 cheerfulness. "I observe with pleasure, none the less, 
 that they spend a pot of money."
 
 1 66 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 "It won't last," Hargen prophesied, being able to 
 think of nothing more convincing with which to refute 
 the facts. 
 
 "Why, then, we'll just make hay while the sun 
 shines/' was Joseph's undisturbed reply. He was 
 turning away toward the girl, when he was interrupted 
 by a question from the manager, uttered with every 
 appearance of respect, yet thoroughly malicious in its 
 motive, as Maggie realized. 
 
 "As you say, of course," he remarked, with sus- 
 picious affability. Then, he added: "Did you er 
 wish to speak to me ?" 
 
 "No," Joseph answered, without hesitation or any 
 trace of self-consciousness ; "I just ran in for a moment 
 to ask Miss Pepper about something." 
 
 The manager sneered openly as he perceived the 
 eyes of the girl fastened on him. Again, she dropped 
 her eyes in a trouble almost too bitter to be endured. 
 How great had been her fault, since she could be 
 thus openly flouted by one whom she despised I
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 DARKIN'S ENTRANCE 
 
 JOSEPH, left alone with Maggie, was still all agog 
 with excitement over the extraordinary success of 
 which his own eyes had just been witness in the store. 
 
 "It's simply marvelous," he went on enthusiastically, 
 "how the people climb over one another to buy bar- 
 gains. That Monday morning bargain-counter idea 
 of yours was a great institution. Ah, it's the gentle 
 art of making them believe you give them something 
 for nothing that does the trick. And of that art, Miss 
 Pepper," he added, with a bow of exaggerated rever- 
 ence, "I acknowledge you to be the past grand mistress. 
 I wish you'd let me tell everybody the truth, that it's 
 you to whom I'm indebted for all my ideas. I don't 
 know a blessed thing about the business. I merely 
 follow your instructions like a child. You get nothing, 
 and I get all the glory. It makes me feel an awful 
 fraud." 
 
 Maggie's cheeks had grown rosy again under his 
 words of praise and the look in his eyes as they met 
 
 167
 
 i68 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 hers a look that bordered close on tenderness. 
 Now, she raised a protesting hand against his self- 
 dispraise ; but he would not be checked. 
 
 "This Napoleon of the mercantile world is nothing 
 more than a puppet," he railed. "The strings are 
 pulled by a girl unknown to history as yet, whose name 
 is Maggie Pepper. Actually, when anyone congratu- 
 lates me, I feel as though I'd stolen something. For 
 the matter of that, so I have : I've stolen your laurels. 
 My friends ask me with great respect, and much more 
 surprise: 'Where do you get your ideas?' They 
 usually add : 'You never used to have any' which 
 is painfully true. They pat me on the back for being 
 a business genius, and all I can do is to grin and play 
 the hypocrite." 
 
 "And so you are," Maggie made defense as best she 
 could. "When an idea is submitted to you by me or 
 by anyone else, you have the gift of right judgment; 
 you can discriminate, tell the difference between the 
 good and the bad. That's genius." 
 
 "You're talking nonsense, and you know it, Maggie 
 Pepper," Joseph retorted. "I've taken your ideas and 
 nobody's except yours; and every single one of yours 
 Has been a corker. I didn't know : you did. That's all 
 there is to it. As for me, I'm just a sham, a pretense. 
 You've done the whole thing. You've made the change
 
 DARKIN'S ENTRANCE 169 
 
 from failure to success. We were going under. Since 
 you've taken hold, we're beating our competitors. 
 Now, my dear girl, I want to ask you why shouldn't 
 I make the truth known? Think how you would 
 enjoy !" 
 
 Maggie interrupted him sharply, her voice sur- 
 charged with bitterness: 
 
 "How I would enjoy having people not pay atten- 
 tion to me of any sort! Mr. Hargen just saw fit to 
 remind me of the fact that you were engaged to be 
 married to his niece." She did not venture to raise her 
 eyes, as she brought up the direful topic in a burst of 
 bravery. 
 
 "What on earth made him speak of that to you, 
 of all persons, I'd like to know !" Joseph's astonish- 
 ment was unmistakably genuine. 
 
 It was Maggie's opportunity, and she seized it, 
 though all a-tremble with fears. 
 
 "Mr. Holbrooke, people are beginning to talk 
 about us!" The music of her low voice shook with 
 the pulse of her emotion. In this moment, she realized, 
 more than ever before, how dear to her was the man 
 who stood so close to her, listening, watching, won- 
 dering. It seemed to her that every word she uttered 
 was dragging horribly at the roots of love deep in her 
 heart. It would have been hard to talk on such a
 
 170 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 theme with any man : with him, the task became intol- 
 erable torment. Yet, by a mighty effort of will, she 
 forced herself to go forward : "Oh, I know they must 
 talk about something, but I can't bear it that they 
 should talk about us I mean about you ; for myself, 
 I don't mind so much. So, you see, you mustn't ask 
 me to take luncheon with you again, and you mustn't 
 come into this office so much, and you mustn't refer 
 persons to me so much, and you mustn't oh, every- 
 thing!" 
 
 Joseph stood aghast before this storm. By instinct, 
 he realized how close she was to the breaking point, 
 and at the moment his chief concern was for her, 
 rather than for the scandal to which she had referred. 
 So, he spoke as soothingly as he could, seeking to 
 impress on her the triviality of the whole matter. 
 
 "Absurd!" he exclaimed, vigorously. "I have to 
 see you constantly. It's purely a matter of business. 
 Besides, I speak to plenty of other women." 
 
 But Maggie was not to be cajoled. Under the 
 stress of this crisis, she forgot the hamper of elegance, 
 and went with a verbal rush : 
 
 "And does Hargen think it's necessary to chase after 
 them, too? I guess, nit! No, sir, you're known as 
 the Continental cut-up all over the shopping district. 
 Any time anyone calls to see you, they're sent here,
 
 DARKIN'S ENTRANCE 171 
 
 always, because you're here always ! You got back 
 from Europe with an awful black eye, morally. It 
 don't matter a darn whether you deserved all you got, 
 or not you got it, and they're not going to let you 
 lose it, if they can help it. And you've raised my salary 
 so often that it's enough to make the vaudeville top- 
 liners want a job with you. . . . And, anyhow, they're 
 talking, and that's all there is to it and a lot too 
 much, I tell you ! So, there!" 
 
 The overwrought girl was so near to tears as she 
 concluded that Joseph eagerly grasped at the first 
 chance to change the subject, since further discussion 
 of it at the moment must inevitably carry her beyond 
 self-control. 
 
 "Now, that's what puzzles me," he remarked, in a 
 tone as casual as he could contrive. "I'd like to know 
 what on earth you do with all your money. You have 
 a comfortable salary though nothing like what you 
 deserve, even if it has been raised one or twice and 
 yet I hear from Mr. Hargen that you want a thousand 
 dollars advance. The question in your case is not, 
 'How did she get it?' but, 'What does she do with it?' 
 It can't cost so thundering much to run your place, 
 and pay Margie's bills; and you haven't any old folk 
 to support. I don't want to pry, but I do own up to 
 a good, healthy curiosity, if it's anything you care to
 
 172 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 tell me. . . . And, about that thousand, of course I'll 
 attend to that for you." 
 
 His words comforted the girl greatly. As he had 
 hoped they might, they took her thought for a moment 
 from the scandal to her other trouble, for which she 
 had strength a-plenty. She dared now to look up at 
 him, timidly, trustingly. She could not hide the ten- 
 derness in her eyes, and the man, although he did not 
 realize all the meaning in her glance, felt the appeal 
 of it thrill throughout him. There was no thought in 
 his brain of any disloyalty toward the girl to whom he 
 was engaged ; there was no conscious feeling of love 
 or passion toward the girl there before him; as he 
 bent still nearer, and dropped one hand over hers 
 where it rested on the desk. He knew and felt only 
 the warm sympathy that friend may give to friend in 
 joy or pain. ... At least, that was all so far as he was 
 aware ! 
 
 The contact of his hand was inexpressibly grateful 
 to the girl ; the pulse of it vibrated through her blood, 
 beat in her heart. The tenderness in her shining eyes 
 grew and softened wondrously, so that Joseph glowed 
 from the warmth of it, and thought how beautiful a 
 thing was friendship. 
 
 "I can't lose you out of my life," he said, gently.
 
 DARKIN'S ENTRANCE 173 
 
 "You ve been my friend; now, you must let me be 
 yours." 
 
 A slight noise near-by startled the two. Though 
 there was no guilt in the heart of either, yet they moved 
 apart with a guilty movement, as their eyes unlocked 
 to stare indignantly at the intruder. As she recognized 
 the man standing a little way behind Joseph, Maggie's 
 face, which had flushed daintily an instant before, 
 whitened. 
 
 "Excuse me," the newcomer said, with jaunty inso- 
 lence, as the proprietor of the establishment glared at 
 him, "I didn't know I was interrupting thought 
 this was a business office." He grinned maliciously at 
 the two, and even forgot the proprieties so far as to 
 wink at the indignant Joseph. 
 
 "It's all right, Mr. Holbrooke," Maggie exclaimed 
 hastily; for she saw that the young man was on the 
 verge of an explosion. "It's someone I know." 
 
 "Very well, then," the master of the place remarked 
 in his most official voice, reluctantly removing his 
 accusing gaze from the person who had appeared at 
 such an inopportune time; "I'll see you again about 
 the estimates." This for the benefit of the creature 
 who had dared wink at him with such disgusting free- 
 dom. Having thus delivered himself, he chose not to
 
 174 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 ring for tne elevator, but went out by the door leading 
 to the stairway. 
 
 At once, Maggie turned angrily on the visitor. 
 
 "I told you not to come here, Mr. Darkin," she said, 
 coldly. Her manner had now regained all the elegan- 
 cies of the higher world. "Why have you ventured to 
 disobey me?" 
 
 The man whom she addressed was eminently hand- 
 some, in a florid way: to the discerning eye, he was 
 still more eminently a villain. He drew near the desk 
 nonchalantly, plainly not a whit impressed by the girl's 
 disdainful reception. 
 
 "You were not at home," he explained succinctly, 
 "so I came here. Now, I've got a proposition to make. 
 Since Ada's out of jail, I've got a hunch to go out 
 West. I've decided, and we're going right away. I 
 need a little money to start a game. . . . Give me 
 five thousand dollars for that, and we'll never bother 
 you or Zaza again give you a clear bill of sale 
 never see her or speak to her again. So help me, on 
 the level!" He threw out his chest, and stroked a 
 moustache that had doubtless worked much havoc in 
 feminine hearts of a certain type. "I pledge you my 
 sacred word of honor!" 
 
 Maggie ignored his bombast. 
 
 "You've actually no claim on the girl," she said
 
 DARKIN'S ENTRANCE 175 
 
 firmly, with her eyes boring into him, "and you know 
 it. I've been a fool too long. You've been black- 
 mailing me for months, and I'm done. You can't do 
 anything." 
 
 "Her mother has a claim," the man returned, with 
 a scowl. "She can do something, and don't you forget 
 it, Miss High-and-Lofty. Blackmail nothing! The 
 girl's ours : if you want her, buy her. I have a friend, 
 a pal of mine, who stands ready to." 
 
 Maggie recoiled in horror. She understood only 
 too well the hideousness of his meaning. In a new 
 fear, she sought to placate the scoundrel. 
 
 "I can't give it to you I haven't it," she declared, 
 weakly. "You've drained me dry. I I'm sorry, but 
 I haven't it, and I can't get it." 
 
 Darkin laughed mockingly. 
 
 "That'll do for you," he sneered. "Don't give me 
 any more of that stuff. I've got eyes in my head, and 
 what I've just seen shows that you've got a pretty 
 strong pull with this Mr. Joseph Holbrooke even 
 if I hadn't heard all about you two before. Fine one 
 you are to bring up a young girl ! Guess I'd better not 
 risk Zaza with her auntie. . . . Still, I might strain 
 a point, if you pony up just now." 
 
 But the vicious creature had overshot the mark, for 
 once. His malignant insults, far from subjugating the
 
 176 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 girl, as he had expected, served only as the stimulus 
 she required for a new, fierce courage. She sat per- 
 fectly motionless until he had done, her eyes downcast, 
 so that he could not see the flames that burned in them. 
 When he paused at last for lack of another obscene 
 jibe, she continued silent for a little, seeking calm 
 sufficient for words. In her attitude and restraint, he 
 read the evidences of victory, and stood in triumph, 
 awaiting the confession of defeat. 
 
 It was just then that Joseph reentered the room, 
 Maggie barely glanced at him, as he crossed to the 
 desk. Her whole feeling was a desire to kill the man 
 who had just insulted her. 
 
 "There's that check for a thousand," Joseph said 
 briskly, laying the slip of paper on the desk before her. 
 "I thought I'd attend to it right away." 
 
 Still, Maggie paid no heed; but Darkin stepped 
 forward eagerly. He gave a grunt of disappointment 
 as he read the figures on the check. Then, he addressed 
 the girl in a tone of superlative confidence : 
 
 "Well, I'll take this now, if you'll indorse it over, 
 and you can fix it up to get the balance from your 
 friend any time within a month. . . . That'll do me." 
 
 "If I can be of any service " Joseph suggested 
 doubtfully, with a suspicious glance toward the 
 speaker.
 
 DARKIN'S ENTRANCE 177 
 
 By a violent effort, Maggie subdued her murderous 
 rage sufficiently to answer. But, first, she picked up 
 the check, and tore it into fragments. At the sound 
 of her voice, Darkin started in consternation: it was 
 quavering with hate : there was no under-note of fear : 
 
 "I should like to have you kill this man for me, 
 right here and now," she said, with a wan smile for 
 Joseph; "but I sha'n't let you, on your own account. 
 You may tell him, however, that, if he ever comes 
 here again, he will be arrested for blackmail, and that 
 he will never get another dollar from me." 
 
 Under the eyes of wrath with which Joseph trans- 
 fixed him, Darkin decided not to stand upon the order 
 of his going. 
 
 "I'll fade now," he called over his shoulder, as he 
 hurried toward the elevator, which was just appearing 
 up the shaft. He waited until he was safe within 
 and the door shut, before venturing any more. From 
 this point of vantage, however, he dared hurl a warn- 
 ing: "Talk it over, Maggie. I'll give you just a 
 week to make up your mind as to whether Zaza goes 
 with me, or not. . . . By-bye!" With that, he shot 
 from sight. 
 
 Left alone with Joseph, Maggie stood for a minute 
 in silence, a-tremble under the burden of over-tried 
 emotions. The young man remained attentive, ten-
 
 178 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 clerly solicitous, yet anxious to avoid aught that could 
 intensify her feeling in any way. It was his instinct 
 purely as a matter of friendship to take her into 
 his arms, and there comfort her as one might a tired 
 child. Nevertheless, he did not quite dare. A secret 
 peril seemed to lie hidden deep within the act, though 
 what it was he could not see. So, he waited discreetly, 
 ready to serve her, but with no overt display of zeal 
 to cause alarm. 
 
 Presently, she turned to him; her red lips crept 
 toward a smile that was more pitiful than tears : 
 
 "Please, go now. I will thank you another time. 
 I've been through so much to-day all I can stand. 
 I'm going home right away I must go and rest !" 
 She was wild with longing for the shelter of his arms. 
 But in her heart was something he must never know. 
 She must be rid of him quickly now, or it would be too 
 late. "Go !" she breathed. "Oh, go go quick !" 
 
 For the sake of that friendship which he bore her, 
 Joseph yielded obedience, though obedience cost him 
 dear. He turned from her, and left her where she 
 stood, drooping. He went with lagging steps, but he 
 was faithful to her command, and passed out of the 
 room without a backward look. . . . And in his heart, 
 .too, a curious new knowledge began its dawning.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 PLOTTINGS 
 
 IT was, perhaps, unfortunate for all concerned that 
 the events just narrated should have caused Joseph 
 to be late in keeping an engagement with Ethel for 
 tea at the Savoy, the same afternoon. It is not grati- 
 fying to a woman's self-love to wait tediously for a 
 laggard lover. A single instance is bad enough: it 
 becomes unendurable when the delinquency is only one 
 of many, and it must be confessed that the young 
 man was becoming very remiss in his attendance. The 
 gravity of the fault was not lessened by the fact that 
 Joseph himself was obviously unaware that he was 
 not a model of ardent behavior. Indeed, this incredible 
 ignorance was the most insulting part of his conduct 
 from the girl's standpoint. It was bad enough, in all 
 conscience, that he should expose her to gossip by his 
 outrageous postponement of the nuptials, and by con- 
 spicuous attentions to another woman : it was intoler- 
 able that he should go his way serenely unconscious 
 of the manner in which now he persistently neglected 
 
 179
 
 i8o MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 his fiance. Usually, Ethel strove to mask her dis- 
 pleasure with the situation, for she was determined 
 that Joseph should not escape her, and she feared the 
 effect on him at this time, were she to try him over- 
 much. To-day, however, after she had waited fretfully 
 for the best part of an hour, her temper, naturally by 
 no means the most amiable in the world, was at the 
 breaking point. The loveliness of her face was marred 
 by a heavy frown, and a glimpse of anger showed 
 beneath the assumed calm of her expression. 
 
 Nevertheless, when, at last, the recreant Joseph made 
 his appearance, the girl's brows returned to their 
 natural arch as if by magic, and the compressed lips 
 relaxed in an instant to the scarlet charm of their 
 smile. There was only a coquettish vivacity in the 
 reproof with which she seasoned her greeting: 
 
 "You are shockingly late, Joe! You are assuming 
 the vices of a married man too early." She added a 
 little peal of laughter at her own jest. 
 
 Joseph smiled in answer, as he took his place at the 
 table, but there was only a feeble mockery of merriment 
 in his face. He was still agitated seriously by the 
 developments of the day, and he was, too, thrilling 
 with that knowledge which had just begun to dawn 
 within his heart. He made the best pretense of which 
 he was capable to appear at ease and contented in
 
 PLOTTINGS 181 
 
 the company of his betrothed, but his best was a poor 
 thing. It did not in the least impose on the girl oppo- 
 site him, and the anger she concealed grew venomous. 
 His excuse for tardiness was chosen with stupendous 
 folly a folly he might have avoided had he stopped 
 to think that the fact of Hargen's remarks to Maggie 
 proved Ethel conversant of the intimacy between him- 
 self and the buyer. Not having troubled to reason in 
 such wise, Joseph innocently did his worst : 
 
 "Sorry to be late, darling. Couldn't help it, you 
 know. I've just been going over something very 
 important with Miss Pepper. I wanted her judgment 
 plans, you know an extension er " 
 
 Ethel waited for more in an apparent patience that 
 belied her seething spirit; but the young man's voice 
 trailed into silence, without any attempt to make his 
 explanation more precise. Finally, his fiance spoke. 
 Her voice had a metallic quality, although her lips 
 were still smiling; her dark eyes glowed more brightly 
 than was their wont, though there was no frown on 
 the brows. In either cheek, a faint flame showed 
 through the pallor, significant of much ; and her slender 
 form was tense. Joseph took no note of any of these 
 things, except that the quality of the voice vaguely 
 disturbed him. 
 
 "That's just a trifle indefinite, Joe," she said, very
 
 1 82 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 quietly. "Really, I can't help congratulating Miss 
 Pepper on the enormous amount of praise you give her 
 for carrying out your ideas. At the same time, a man 
 who commands the envy and admiration of the entire 
 business world surely doesn't need to have his judg- 
 ment endorsed by a common, ordinary person like 
 Miss Pepper." 
 
 Before she had advanced far in this perfectly natural 
 rebuke, Joseph forgot the uneasiness provoked by the 
 metallic quality in her voice. After his experiences of 
 the day, full of the friendship with which he regarded 
 the person thus belittled by his betrothed, he was bound 
 to protest, which he did with undiplomatic vigor and 
 sincerity : 
 
 "Miss Pepper is not a common, ordinary person, 
 Ethel, by any manner of means," he said stiffly, yet 
 emphatically. "On the contrary, she is the most ex- 
 traordinary woman I have ever met." With this 
 sweeping assertion, he stopped to glare across the table 
 with an expression the reverse of loverlike. 
 
 It argued well for Ethel's strength of will that she 
 was able still to dam the flood of her wrath. Only, 
 the faint red showed warmer through the oval pallor 
 of her cheeks, and the metallic ring in her tones was 
 still more audible when she spoke. 
 
 "Really!" she exclaimed, with the daintiest of smiles
 
 PLOTTINGS 183 
 
 on her scarlet lips. "But isn't that a bit just a 
 weeny bit extravagant, Joe?" 
 
 The lover, however, was not to be weakened from 
 his devotion to the sacred cause of friendship. He 
 felt in his breast that virtuous glow which is the due of 
 loyalty to another in the face of aspersion. It may be, 
 too, if all the truth were to be told, that his firmness 
 in defense of Maggie was braced to some extent by 
 obstinancy aroused on hearing her thus unjustly 
 attacked. Whatever the cause, he was undoubtedly 
 resolute in maintaining his position concerning her 
 alas ! more resolute than discreet. 
 
 "Not a bit!" he cried, energetically. "Why, she 
 is the cleverest girl ! Some day, dearest, I'll explain to 
 you more fully what she is, and what she means to 
 me. For the present, it's a secret between us, you 
 know." 
 
 The only thing that saved the fatuous young man 
 from a scene after this avowal, enough from her lover 
 to madden any woman, was the opportune arrival of 
 friends, who took the table adjoining. Ethel made 
 an heroic effort at self-control, and achieved it by a 
 scant margin. In the end, she decided that, from the 
 manner of the man, he could not be guilty after the 
 fashion directly implied in his words. In all proba- 
 bility, he was rather foolish than vicious. It was the
 
 1 84 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 only explanation reconcilable to so great frankness in 
 speaking of his relations with the girl. Anything 
 directly evil, he would have concealed. The one safe 
 course to be pursued, then, was the breaking off of all 
 association between him and the other woman. What- 
 ever difficulties might lie in the way of this, it must be 
 accomplished, and without a moment's unnecessary 
 delay. Having come to this determination, Ethel 
 refrained from further mention of the matter to her 
 lover, and her parting from him on her return home 
 was as amicable as ever. 
 
 At once, however, she had recourse to her uncle, 
 who had just arrived from his office. She drew him 
 into the drawing-room, and broached the subject im- 
 mediately : 
 
 "Uncle," she exclaimed, without preamble, "that 
 woman must go. The way she and Joseph are carrying 
 on is a disgrace, and I won't stand it." Now that 
 disguise w r as not imperative, Ethel let her rage flame 
 from her eyes. There was no longer any smile on the 
 scarlet lips; her black brows were drawn level; her 
 voice was harsh. 
 
 "I don't blame you for objecting," Hargen answered, 
 as he tugg-ed at his whisker perplexedly. "And she 
 bothers me almost as much as she does you. Her 
 retention in the store was a personal affront to me,
 
 PLOTTINGS 185 
 
 after I had formally discharged her. Imagine taken 
 back and promoted! But what can I do?" The 
 manager paced back and forth in great perturbation 
 for a minute, while his niece regarded him in sullen 
 disapproval. Then, he faced her again, and spoke 
 dejectedly. "I don't know what to do. He won't 
 listen to having her dismissed. For that matter, he'd 
 reengage her as fast as I could discharge her. Lately, 
 the damned whelp has developed an obstinate streak, 
 and I can't do a thing with him." Ethel made no 
 criticism of the epithet applied to her lover. " 'Nothing 
 succeeds like success,' he says," Hargen continued, 
 wearily. "Somehow, he's got a ridiculous notion that 
 this Pepper woman is necessary to his success." 
 
 "Yes," the girl said, furiously; "he was good enough 
 to tell me something of the sort, this afternoon." 
 
 Hargen regarded his niece curiously for a moment. 
 
 "He'll have some pleasant times after you're mar- 
 ried, I fancy," he said, quizzically. "I dislike him so 
 intensely that I'm looking forward with pleasant an- 
 ticipation to the happy event." He chuckled, as he 
 contemplated the lowering features of the girl. "My 
 advice," he went on briskly, "is that you get married as 
 soon as possible, and then it will be your duty and, 
 I suppose, your pleasure as well to take the matter 
 into your own hands. It would be undignified to speak
 
 1 86 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 now, my dear. Besides, you have no evidence not 
 of the sort that counts." 
 
 Ethel flared : 
 
 "Don't talk bosh to me!" she cried, coarsely. "I 
 tell you, you must send that woman packing now 
 the first thing to-morrow morning !" She stamped 
 her foot ; she brought down her clenched fists in a short 
 gesture of rage : "I say, you shall !" 
 
 "But really now " The uncle's further pro- 
 test was cut short. 
 
 "If you don't," Ethel stormed, "I will! I'm no 
 prude, as I told him once. I don't mind a man with a 
 past. What I won't have is a man with a present 
 right under my nose, and for all the world to see 
 and perhaps with a future, too. I won't have it, and 
 that settles it. I I'll break off the engagement first." 
 
 Hargen started in alarm. 
 
 "Don't for heaven's sake, do that, Ethel!" he 
 pleaded. There was a curious anxiety in his tones. 
 
 "I won't, if I can help it," was Ethel's careless 
 answer. "But," she continued imperiously, "you must 
 understand that I'm not going to be laughed at any 
 longer. I used to be fond of Joe might be again. 
 But it isn't that, now. It's simply that the situation is 
 impossible. . . . That woman can't stay in the store 
 for another day."
 
 PLOTTINGS 187 
 
 In reality, the girl's will was the stronger of the two, 
 and it prevailed to the extent that Hargen promised 
 to intervene with Joseph for the removal of Maggie 
 from her employment with the firm. So insistent was 
 she that a telephone-message summoned the lover for 
 an immediate interview. The call caught him at his 
 apartment, and, within a quarter of an hour, he pre- 
 sented himself before uncle and niece in the drawing- 
 room of the Hargen mansion. 
 
 After brief greetings, Ethel came straight to the 
 point : 
 
 "Joe," she said quietly, "Uncle wishes to speak to 
 you in reference to a matter of some importance. He 
 will explain." 
 
 "Hum ! It's a delicate suppose, my dear, you " 
 Mr. Hargen, who had uttered this mucli in a thor- 
 oughly fidgetty fashion, came to a halt, and turned 
 beseeching eyes on Ethel. 
 
 "I think, Uncle," the girl said, without hesitation, 
 "if Joe knew my earnest desire that Miss Pepper should 
 hand in her resignation, if he were made to ; ec,lize that 
 my that our whole happiness depends 0*1 this, he 
 would consent." 
 
 The abrupt introduction of the topic had rst aston- 
 ished Joseph, then filled him with indignation. He 
 was deeply offended by this wanton mixing of his love-
 
 1 88 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 affair and his friendship, which had nothing at all in 
 common. He spoke his mind with disconcerting 
 directness : 
 
 "Oh, come now, Ethel, and you, too, Hr. Hargen 
 put an end to this nonsense. Your happiness, Ethel, 
 is not dependent in any way on Miss Pepper's remain- 
 ing in the employ of Holbrooke and Company, but my 
 business success is." 
 
 "Ridiculous !" Hargen ejaculated, in all sincerity. 
 
 "It may seem so to you," Joseph admitted, with an 
 unpleasant glance toward his business manager; "but 
 it's true, nevertheless." It occurred to him that the 
 only way to escape from an exceptionally disagreeable 
 situation, while also satisfying the demands of friend- 
 ship, lay in revealing the truth concerning his great 
 debt to Miss Pepper. "It is a fact," he went on, "that 
 she, and no one else, is responsible for every one of 
 the changes that have taken place in the concern since 
 my return from Europe. Hers has been the mind that 
 conceived and carried out the plans which have resulted 
 in a success so tremendous that it has put me on the 
 top of the heap. . . . Oh, I know the nasty things 
 that have been said about us; but they're just lies 
 malicious, wicked lies. . . . Will you believe that, 
 Ethel?" 
 
 The girl, at this appeal, did not hesitate. In a way,
 
 PLOTTINGS 189 
 
 she was as furious as before, yet, to avoid an open 
 rupture, she must accept his explanation at least to 
 some extent. 
 
 "Certainly, Joe I believe what you tell me, of 
 course." 
 
 Joseph received this rather non-committal answer 
 quite unsuspiciously. 
 
 "So, you see," he declared triumphantly, "it would 
 be the height of ingratitude to turn her out after all 
 she has done to make our success. My feeling toward 
 her is gratitude, and er friendship." In spite of 
 himself, a faint light from that dawning of knowledge 
 within his heart streamed over his consciousness most 
 inopportunely, as he made an end of speaking. It 
 confused him mightily, for Joseph was an honest young 
 man, and honorable. The color deepened on cheeks 
 and brow. Ethel saw the blush, guessed all that it 
 meant, and vastly more. Her spirit hardened, as she 
 listened to the question with which her betrothed broke 
 a short silence. "Don't you believe me, Ethel ?" 
 
 "Oh, certainly, Joe," she replied, coldly. "But, all 
 the same, on account of the scandal and everything, I 
 still think it would be better that she should go." 
 
 The disturbed young man turned impatiently to Mr. 
 Hargen, who was tugging at the usual whisker.
 
 190 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 "And you?" he demanded, sharply. There was an 
 ominous note in his voice. 
 
 "I ?" Hargen exclaimed, with a nervous start. "Oh, 
 I'm inclined to lean toward Ethel's view, on account 
 of the gossip. But " 
 
 Joseph uttered an indignant ejaculation. 
 
 "You've always been prejudiced against her, Mr. 
 Hargen. Her modern ideas have conflicted with your 
 archaic business methods." 
 
 Hargen winced visibly at the word "archaic," but 
 attempted only a blandly indulgent smile. He was 
 above all things desirous of avoiding an open disagree- 
 ment with the owner of the firm at just this time. 
 
 Ethel, however, was not held back by such scruples- 
 of expediency. She expressed her opinion candidly: 
 
 "Really, Joe, the most unprejudiced observer 
 couldn't help seeing you are so wrapped up in this 
 woman that you don't hesitate to insult anyone who 
 ventures to disagree with you as to her very remark- 
 able qualities." She was not even at pains, for once, 
 to conceal the sneer that accompanied the words. 
 
 "She has remarkable qualities," Joseph maintained, 
 stoutly. There had come a complete shedding of the 
 good-nature characteristic of him. His gray eyes were 
 fiery; his chin thrust itself forward pugnaciously; his
 
 PLOTTINGS 191 
 
 voice rasped. "I've explained my relations with her, 
 and I think that's enough of the subject. If you want 
 anything more, Ethel, here it is : Not a word of a 
 personal nature, which you could by any possibility 
 construe as an affront to yourself, has ever passed 
 between us on my honor." He spoke the literal 
 truth the whole truth, as he understood it. Yet, 
 deep down in his consciousness lurked a shadow of 
 doubt doubt that somehow resembled guilt. "Do 
 you believe me?" he questioned, defiantly. 
 
 "Yes, Joe, I believe you," the girl responded quickly; 
 and now, again, she held her temper well under control. 
 "But, still, I do beg of you you must put my happi- 
 ness above a mere matter of gratitude to an employee 
 for past services. Surely, she can be paid as gener- 
 ously as you like and dismissed." 
 
 Joseph threw out his hand, in a gesture of supreme 
 disgust, as he gazed savagely on the speaker. 
 
 "I suppose so!" he agreed, contemptuously. Then, 
 as he went on, his tones deepened, became more 
 vibrant: "She has slaved day and night. She has 
 devoted all her energy, all her genius, to our success. 
 And, now, she must be sacrificed to a spoiled girl's 
 whim because I am supposed to be a gay dog, and 
 all that kind of rot, and can't live down a silly past. I 
 say, it's not fair to punish her for my short-comings.
 
 192 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 I tell you flat, I can't do it, and I won't and there's 
 an end of the matter! . . . Good-night." 
 
 With that, Joseph whirled on his heel, and went out 
 of the room.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 MAGGIE RESIGNS 
 
 ETHEL saw nothing of Joseph for a number of days, 
 and she realized that a crisis had come in her affairs. 
 Yet, she refused to abandon the hope of ultimate vic- 
 tory. She possessed much subtlety of intellect and 
 craft that made her a dangerous adversary. In the 
 present emergency, she set her wits to studying a means 
 by which she could gain her ends, notwithstanding her 
 fiance's dictum concerning Maggie Pepper. The 
 result of her deep pondering was the resolve once again 
 that the woman with whom Joseph had allowed him- 
 self to become entangled must go. The difference 
 now, however, was that she would not depend in any 
 way on Joseph's cooperation in securing this effect : 
 on the contrary, while Maggie Pepper must go, the 
 removal must be accomplished secretly. Not only must 
 the head of the firm not know of the event until too 
 late to interfere, but the matter must be carried out in 
 such manner as to create bitterness between the two. 
 
 Having settled definitely on the course to be pur- 
 193
 
 194 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 sued, Ethel broached the subject to her uncle one 
 evening, and, to that worried gentleman's consterna- 
 tion, informed him that he was to be the active agent 
 in clearing his niece's path of Maggie. The old 
 gentleman remonstrated, but in vain. The girl had no 
 reluctance in exerting her stronger will, undeterred 
 by the entreaties of her kinsman. When he showed 
 signs of continuing recalcitrant, she reduced him to 
 subjection by brutally saying that he would be wise to 
 keep her as a friend, rather than as an enemy, since 
 she might reveal to Joseph certain things known to her 
 concerning the manager's juggling with the firm's 
 books. At that, Mr. Hargen's face became more than 
 usually bloodless, and he secretly cursed himself for 
 ever having let slip the bits of information by which he 
 was now in the girl's power. He reflected bitterly that 
 he had warmed a viper in his bosom, and, so reflecting, 
 he consented to do anything that she might request. 
 At the same time, he shuddered, for he found himself 
 between the devil and the deep sea. On the one hand, 
 he would incur the enmity of Joseph, which was likely 
 to prove disastrous; on the other, he would fall under 
 Ethel's displeasure, which was worse. Between the two 
 evils, he wisely chose the less, and thenceforth com- 
 panioned with fear. 
 
 It so chanced that Joseph had an imperative engage-
 
 MAGGIE RESIGNS 195 
 
 ment of long standing, which summoned him to Wash- 
 ington about this time, to serve as best man at the 
 wedding of an old friend. Ethel, aware of the fact, 
 decided that her plan should be put into operation 
 immediately after his departure on the train, so that 
 some interval might elapse after Maggie's removal 
 before the possibility of interference on his part. She 
 meant the dismissal of the girl to be accomplished in 
 such a manner that Maggie should be filled with anger 
 against Joseph, and that from this and separation, 
 and other manoeuvers on which she was plotting, a 
 permanent estrangement should develop. . . . Al- 
 though she did not guess it, her scheming was assisted 
 indirectly by Maggie herself, who was now persistently 
 refusing to grant any intimacy to the head of the firm. 
 In the week that had elapsed since the day when the 
 subject of scandal concerning them was broached, they 
 had not been alone together once. 
 
 In consequence of the pressure brought to bear on 
 him, Hargen, on the day set, summoned Maggie to a 
 private interview in his office. She was totally un- 
 suspicious of the impending doom, and entered the 
 manager's room with the careless grace of movement 
 that distinguished her. Her roses had faded a little 
 under the strain through which she had passed, but 
 the eyes with which she regarded the man behind the
 
 196 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 desk were still of the same wonderful limpidity, witH 
 the tenderness glowing softly in their deeps, and the 
 elusive dimple lurked, half-hidden, near a corner of 
 the red, curving lips. Hargen's wan face stiffened as 
 he looked on her beauty. He admitted freely to him- 
 self that she was lovely enough to delight any man's 
 fancy, but he owed her a grudge, which he was glad 
 to pay since he must. The fact that the victim of 
 his niece's plotting was to be Maggie Pepper formed 
 the silver lining to his cloud of fear over the conse- 
 quences. Therefore, he took heart of grace from 
 malice, plucked authoritatively at the wisp of whisker, 
 and addressed the buyer impressively: 
 
 "Miss Pepper, Mr. Holbrooke and I have definitely 
 decided to dispense with your services from this mo- 
 ment." He paused, and cleared his throat, noisily, 
 awaiting any response from the girl. 
 
 The shock found Maggie totally unprepared. Under 
 it, she paled, and made a movement of hurt surprise, 
 to the great gratification of the man watching her. 
 But, even in this moment of overwhelming confusion, 
 she perceived a gleam of the watery eyes that revealed 
 his satisfaction, and the sight spurred her to bravery. 
 Her voice came without a quaver, musically low and 
 even: 
 
 "Very well, Mr. Hargen. I will go at once."
 
 MAGGIE RESIGNS 197 
 
 The manager frowned, and stirred irritably in his 
 chair. This air of quiet dignity on the girl's part 
 chagrined him. 
 
 "Hear me out, if you please, Miss Pepper," he 
 resumed, with a tone of increased seventy. "I wish 
 you to understand one thing: As long as the differ- 
 ences between us involved merely a question of busi- 
 ness methods, I was inclined to overlook your short- 
 comings. But, when it came to concern the happiness 
 of my niece, I felt it my duty, for her sake, to take 
 action." 
 
 Maggie stared at the speaker, confounded. 
 
 "Your niece's happiness !" she gasped. 
 
 "Precisely," Hargen said, softly. "She, as you 
 know, will shortly become Mr. Holbrooke's wife. It 
 is in view of this fact that I er if you prefer it 
 that way suggest that you hand in your resignation. 
 I am obliged to ask this from you in justice to yourself, 
 and in justice to us. You must readily understand that 
 your presence in this establishment, after the gossip 
 which has arisen, has become quite impossible. In 
 fact, I should say frankly that the situation which has 
 come about is intolerable both for Mr. Holbrooke and 
 myself. Incidentally, I may add that it is bad for the 
 firm, too, from a business standpoint the notoriety, 
 and all that sort of thing. So, if you have a particle
 
 198 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 of regard for him, you will be glad to put an end at 
 once to a scandal that outrages all sense of propriety 
 and decency." 
 
 The girl had listened to the tirade patiently, but with 
 mounting color. 
 
 "You know what bosh all the talk is!" she cried 
 angrily, as the manager paused. 
 
 Hargen was not minded to exasperate his victim too 
 far, and he answered with much more mildness of 
 manner. 
 
 "Oh, doubtless !" he agreed. "Personally, I'm quite 
 sure that it's all merely a mare's nest purely imagi- 
 nary on the part of the public. It is a perfectly 
 innocent business association, distorted into a vulgar 
 scandal by evil minds." 
 
 "You've hit it just right!" Maggie exclaimed. "Evil 
 minds !" the sneer on her face shadowed the loveliness ; 
 for once, her eyes were wholly cold, with never a hint 
 of any tenderness beneath. 
 
 The implication in her words goaded Hargen to 
 retort : 
 
 "You are at liberty to- blame anyone whom you 
 please," he declared. "But you will have only yourself 
 to blame for the action my niece will be compelled to 
 take unless you go." 
 
 "What on earth have her actions to do with me?"
 
 MAGGIE RESIGNS 199 
 
 Maggie demanded. Astonishment checked wrath, for 
 the moment. 
 
 "Only this :" Hargen replied, suavely. "If you do 
 not go, she will immediately break off the engage- 
 ment." 
 
 "Oh ! So, you put it up to me, do you ?" Anger was 
 in the mastery again. 
 
 Hargen shrugged his shoulders wearily, as He 
 nodded. 
 
 "Vulgarly speaking yes." 
 
 The innuendo against her form of speech served as 
 the final straw on the back of Maggie's self-control. 
 
 "Vulgarly speaking!" she snapped, so violently that 
 the manager actually jumped in his chair. "Can any- 
 thing be more vulgar than your attitude toward me? 
 Am I the only one that speaks vulgarly ? Can anything 
 be more brutally vulgar than the suspicions of you and 
 your precious niece ?" 
 
 "You are impertinent," the manager asserted. But 
 his utterance was plaintive merely. He was growing 
 regretful of the storm he had provoked. 
 
 "Yours is the evil mind that has twisted and dis- 
 torted a simple business association into something 
 criminal," Maggie continued, vehemently. Her eyes 
 were flaming now with a righteous rage; the rich 
 voice thrilled with feeling. "Your sense of decency
 
 200 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 and propriety is outraged God save the mark ! Oh, 
 yes, you, Mr. Hargen you are horrified, aren't you ? 
 You never imagined even that there could be such 
 depravity in the world especially in this store ' 
 oh, no !" Long-forgotten tales of Hargen as a Lotha- 
 rio among the employees jumped in her recollection. 
 She leaned forward, pointed an accusing finger; she 
 was incarnate contempt. . . . Under the scourge of 
 her words, the old man understood, and shriveled. 
 "You are horrified of course! Has it ever occurred 
 to you that sneaking, sanctified hypocrisy is incapable 
 of seeing anything but the rotten side of human 
 nature ? Has it ever occurred to you that a man and a 
 woman can possibly associate together without leading 
 an immoral life? No, it has not occurred to you 
 it couldn't. . . . And here's my side of it: It ain't 
 decent for a self-respecting girl to associate with the 
 likes of you. Yes, you'll get my resignation as fast as 
 I can write it !" 
 
 Having delivered herself in this tempestuous 
 fashion, Maggie Pepper faced about, and walked very 
 haughtily out of the manager's office, her head held 
 high, defiance written large in every line of her slender 
 grace, while the old man whom she left sat huddled 
 in his chair, listened, affrighted, to his pounding heart, 
 wondered if he would die then and there of shock.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 JAKE'S PASSING 
 
 MAGGIE withstood the sudden disaster with an 
 equanimity that surprised herself. It is probable that 
 the anger aroused by Hargen had much to do in stimu- 
 lating her against the effects of a blow so unexpected 
 and so severe. Instead of being overcome by futile 
 repinings over the unkindness of fate, the girl busied 
 herself immediately with such preparations as were 
 necessary for leaving the establishment, in which she 
 was assisted by the openly weeping Hattie Murphy. 
 To her alone did the ex-buyer make known the fact of 
 her resignation from the service of Holbrooke and 
 Company, and the keen suffering of this friend over 
 the event heartened her, despite regret for being the 
 cause of another's pain. 
 
 The few arrangements required were soon com- 
 pleted. Forthwith, Maggie set out in quest of another 
 position. She was unsuccessful the first day, and, 
 when she returned, discouraged, to her flat at night, 
 she felt herself yielding to the inevitable depression 
 
 201
 
 202 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 induced by misfortune of the gravest sort. Neverthe- 
 less, she did her utmost to conceal the trouble that 
 possessed her, for she had no wish to impose her own 
 misery on* the child. To this end, she assumed as 
 cheery a demeanor as her strength could contrive, and 
 laughed and chatted gayly, though she was very close 
 to the breaking point. She was able to carry out the de- 
 ception sufficiently well to avoid suspicion on Margie's 
 part ; but, at once after dinner, she made the excuse of 
 being over-fatigued, and went to bed. There, at last, 
 she gave way completely, and it was only after hours of 
 anguish that she fell into a troubled sleep. It seemed 
 to the afflicted girl in this time of trial that she was, 
 indeed, of all mortals the one most cruelly harried by 
 ill-fortune. Her delight in the gratification of ambi- 
 tion, which had come to her in her important position 
 as buyer, now by force- of contrast intensified her 
 distress. There was, too, the responsibility for the 
 child to alarm her with grim fears. By reason of the 
 drain imposed through the greed of Darkin, funds 
 were low, and delay in securing another position would 
 bring actual want, not only for herself, but, too, for 
 the little girl. Another phase of the money trouble was 
 presented by the menace of the blackmailer, who, when 
 he learned that he could hope for no more profit from
 
 JAKE'S PASSING 203 
 
 6 
 the aunt, would not scruple to seize Margie herself 
 
 with vilest intent. 
 
 Beneath and beyond the more sordid aspects of the 
 evil thrust upon her, Maggie experienced* poignant 
 torture from things of the heart. Already, she had 
 faced the exquisite sadness of yielding her love where 
 it could bring no return. She still felt the darts of 
 that grief piercing her soul. This alone had been 
 enough to make her wretchedness complete? But 
 there was now vastly more. The vicious scandal by 
 which her good name had been smirched played its 
 part in the assault upon her peace of mind. The 
 manner itself of her dismissal goaded her pride con- 
 stantly. And, last of all repressed by her whole 
 power of will, hidden, denied, unconfessed she was 
 tormented incessantly by the attitude toward her of 
 Joseph Holbrooke. Notwithstanding the fact that she 
 had bade him cease the intimacy between' them, she 
 could not understand his aloofness at this time. In- 
 deed, it seemed to her incredible that he could have 
 consented to her discharge from the establishment of 
 which he was the head. Though she would never 
 have admitted the fact, even to herself, she had 
 expected some message from him, some word of help, 
 or sympathy perhaps the supreme comfort of his 
 presence with her. Unaware of his absence from the
 
 204 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 city of which he would surely have informed her, 
 had it not been for the ban imposed by herself 
 Maggie felt that the defection of the man she loved 
 was the crown of wo. 
 
 Because she was of sound body and mind and con- 
 science, even the brief and broken slumber at dawn 
 restored Maggie to a fair measure of strength, and 
 gave her the courage to wear an air of well-being 
 which she did not feel. She still refrained from con- 
 fiding the truth to Margie ; and went out at the usual 
 time, as if on her way to the store; although at the 
 corner she turned in an opposite direction. . . . And, 
 now, as if Fortune were disposed to be kinder, having 
 tested her courage enough, Maggie found success 
 awaiting her at the first trial. Greenwald and Com- 
 pany, a firm of best repute on the Avenue, were in 
 want of a buyer, who must start for Paris straightway. 
 The pay was ample. The firm knew Miss Pepper's 
 work, and were prompt to secure her services. Within 
 a half-hour after entering, Maggie went forth hap- 
 pily, secure against the most pressing, sordid fear. In 
 the relief of that escape, all the other troubles shrank 
 for the time being. Even the heart-ache seemed to 
 lessen a very, very little. As. she had much to do in 
 the way of shopping before setting forth for the ocean 
 voyage, she gave the day to this work, leaving the
 
 JAKE'S PASSING 205 
 
 breaking 1 of the news to Margie until evening. She 
 congratulated herself on having withheld her confi- 
 dence from the child, for now the information could 
 cause only pleasure. She had been seized at once with 
 the idea that she should take the little girl to Europe 
 with her. By this means, she would save Margie from 
 peril at the hands of Darkin, while securing the best 
 of educational advantages. Sheltered in a convent, 
 her niece would enjoy every excellence in training, 
 far from the possibility of interference. That the child 
 would delight in the prospect was beyond question. 
 . . . And, for herself, Maggie took a melancholy satis- 
 faction in the fact that she was soon to be so completely 
 separated from Joseph Holbrooke. Since she might 
 not be with him forever, it were wiser to be farthest 
 afar. 
 
 It was a bustling, radiant Maggie who hurried into 
 the flat, to be welcomed with fond kisses by the waiting 
 niece. 
 
 "I know I'm dreadfully late," she exclaimed. "You 
 don't need to tell me. And I suppose Johanna is having 
 three kinds of fits about the dinner. But I couldn't 
 help it, Margie, dearest, and I have a real excuse: 
 We're going to sail for Europe, next Saturday morn- 
 ing. Now, what do you think?" 
 
 The child was standing rigid, with wide, staring
 
 206 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 eyes. For an instant, she could not speak from the 
 wonder of the revelation. 
 
 "We?" she questioned chokingly, at last. "Do you 
 mean oh, me, too ? Oh, Auntie, darling Auntie !" 
 
 "Not, 'me, too' : I, also," Maggie corrected sternly, 
 with twinkling eyes. 
 
 "I'm too excited for grammar," Margie declared, 
 earnestly. "But is it true? Are you really going to 
 take me me ! to Europe, Auntie ?" 
 
 "Yes, really and truly," was the smiling answer. 
 "And, now, we'll have dinner." 
 
 "I don't want any dinner," the child protested, 
 joyously. "No, I don't. I'm too excited for grammar 
 and dinner. Oh, Europe the steamer the beau- 
 tiful ocean o-o-oh!" 
 
 Maggie explained briefly as to her changed position ; 
 but Margie had no heed for anything except the 
 glorious fact that she was soon to sail away on the 
 beautiful ocean. She expressed herself as content to 
 remain in a convent on the Continent, for the purpose 
 of completing her education, but her interest hardly 
 reached that far. For the present, the sea and the 
 steamer demanded all her happy attention to them- 
 selves. Everything afterward would be right and 
 pleasant, too, of course and she kissed her aunt 
 with enthusiasm again and again.
 
 JAKE'S PASSING 207 
 
 ''My heart's so full I want to cry, and I want to 
 laugh all at once." And, according to her desire, so 
 did she, with much spirit. . . . The smile which 
 Maggie kissed was salt with tears. 
 
 It was when the dinner was just done of which, 
 after all, Margie managed to eat rather heartily 
 that the maid presented the business card of Mr. Jacob 
 Rothschild. 
 
 "Now, what on earth can the man want here?" 
 Maggie demanded indignantly of her niece, who 
 aroused herself from a dream of dolphins and whales 
 and waterspouts to shake her head uninterestedly. "I 
 suppose he's found out that I've gone from Holbrooke 
 and Company. What's he up to, I wonder. . . . Oh, 
 well," she continued, turning to the waiting servant, 
 "you may bring him in. He's stirred my curiosity," 
 she confessed to no one in particular. "And, anyhow, 
 it's the last time thank goodness!" She called to 
 Margie twice before she could interrupt the dreaming. 
 "You go into the other room, dear, until the gentleman 
 has gone. He has only called on business, and he's no 
 one you'd care to see." 
 
 Maggie deceived herself doubly. Jake was not come 
 on business, in the ordinary sense of that overworked 
 word; and as to not wanting a sight of him, since 
 the child had both excellent esthetic sense and a lively
 
 208 'MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 sense of humor, the spectacle of the jobber would have 
 gratified her immensely. Solomon in all his glory 
 most assuredly was not arrayed like unto Jacob not 
 if that ancient monarch's wisdom included even rudi- 
 ments of the color-blending art. Maggie, accustomed 
 as she was to his sartorial crimes, could not forbear a 
 smile when she beheld his present riotous assembly of 
 clothes. 
 
 Jake, interpreting that smile as a just tribute, beamed 
 as he took the seat Maggie indicated. The opening 
 conversation was concerned with the recent changes 
 in the life of the hostess. But no sooner had he learned 
 of the new position taken by her than the visitor 
 exhibited signs of strong excitement : 
 
 "No, no; you mustn't go to Paris!" he exclaimed. 
 "When you hear me, you won't want to go. . . . 
 Hush! Listen! What? ... I got a partnership to 
 propose." He leaned back in his chair complacently, 
 and ogled Maggie with his beady black eyes. 
 
 The girl was mystified. So, then, a partnership was 
 to be the explanation of the unexpected visit. 
 
 "But I haven't any money, Jake," she demurred. 
 
 The jobber waved his arms disdainfully, so that the 
 cuff-buttons flaunted their splendors. 
 
 "Ah, money!" His tone, for once in his life, men-
 
 JAKE'S PASSING 209 
 
 tioned the word disrespectfully. "What's money? Is 
 money everything? Hush, now! I got money." 
 
 "Yes, I believe you," Maggie answered, with a 
 yawn. "I know the first dollar you ever earned." 
 
 "Boshes!" Jake cried, indignantly. "Now, listen! 
 We open a store. I put up the money. You are the 
 manager. I'm the treasurer. What? Why, the 
 minute you left Holbrooke's, I said, 'Hah! Now, I 
 cjn make it a business. I've had my eyes on you for 
 five years. . . . Holbrooke bah ! He don't know a 
 shirt-waist from a neck-tie !' ' 
 
 "Leave him out of it, please," the girl commanded. 
 She was angered by Jake's slurring reference to the 
 man she loved. 
 
 But the jobber misunderstood her, naturally enough. 
 
 "Aha! Revenge is sweet ! What? That's it. You 
 show him how you are independent. . . . And I got 
 the location oh, great location ! option in my 
 pocket everything ready for a big fall opening." 
 Maggie was persistently shaking her head to every 
 phrase; but Jake was so accustomed to rebuffs that 
 he took no notice. Instead, he went on speaking with 
 bland self-confidence. "And it ain't all business with 
 me, neither. Why, me? I got a heart as big as a 
 rock." His smirk was almost the equal of Mur- 
 chison's. "And say, Miss Pepper, you think I'm a
 
 210 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 married man. What ? Well, there's where I fool you. 
 Understand? I ain't not in a thousand years. I 
 was, but I ain't. I'm as single as I was the day I was 
 born." 
 
 "Well, what of it?" Maggie snapped. She was 
 growing tired of a curiosity that was so slow in finding 
 satisfaction. 
 
 "Listen! I tell you," Jake answered, with great 
 earnestness. "Here we come to the hard part, Miss 
 Pepper. . . . You don't dislike my religion. What?" 
 
 "Some of the best friends I have in the world are 
 of your persuasion," was the ready reply. 
 
 "Yes yes! Quite so!" the jobber exclaimed, 
 unctuously. "Well, my dear Miss Pepper, why don't 
 you try it?" 
 
 Maggie's sole answer was a stare of complete aston- 
 ishment. 
 
 "That's it," Jake went on. "My religion, you under- 
 stand. Change over. It's easy. . . . Then, we get 
 married. Ain't that business?" His conclusion came 
 in a triumphant burst. 
 
 For the first time in the interview, it occurred to 
 Maggie that she was receiving a proposal of marriage. 
 Her bewilderment was so great that she was at a loss 
 what to do or say for a moment. The man seemed in 
 earnest, preposterous as his hopes were, and it ill-suited
 
 JAKE'S PASSING 211 
 
 the girl's kindly heart to wound anyone eedlessly, 
 much less one who came as a suitor to her hand. She 
 stammered the first idea she could seize on, in order to 
 delay the crisis: 
 
 "I think it's more polite for the gentleman to change. 
 What's the matter with your changing, Jake ?" 
 
 "No, no!" the jobber urged. "I don't think I'd 
 look so well in any religion but my own. It suits me, 
 ,'aid I'm so used to it!" 
 
 Maggie regarded the man for a few seconds with a 
 speculative eye. She was reviling fate, which bestowed 
 on her the love of a creature such as this instead of 
 the one she craved so intensely. The pathos and the 
 ignominy of it struck deep. Then, of a sudden, she 
 was filled with a sympathetic wonder. Was it possible 
 that she had misjudged this bothersome fellow? Did 
 he, in all truth, possess a heart alive to love? If so, 
 he deserved the respect she had never hitherto given 
 him; and, since he, too, must love in vain, she could 
 feel for him in his hopelessness, despite her natural 
 antipathy. Her interest dictated the question: 
 
 "Do you really love me, Jake?" 
 
 His answer disillusioned her wholly, and she wasted 
 no more emotion on this wooer only amusement. 
 
 "Say," the jobber retorted, suspiciously, "that's a 
 question that comes close to being personal. But I
 
 212 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 don't mind telling you, seeing as you ask me: Of 
 course, I do. Do you suppose I'd be willing to sacri- 
 fice myself, if I didn't?" 
 
 "Sacrifice yourself !" the girl cried, too surprised to 
 feel indignation. 
 
 "Well, ain't I been single forty years?" The expla- 
 nation came plaintively. It seemed that he had for- 
 gotten a certain married interval. 
 
 "Forty years!" Maggie repeated, with open scepti- 
 cism. 
 
 "Well," Jake corrected sulkily, "forty-two, if you 
 got to be so particular. But a wife, she shouldn't be 
 so particular." 
 
 "Come again!" urged the girl mockingly, in a ver- 
 nacular suited to her auditor. 
 
 "Forty-five," admitted the jobber, groaning. "And 
 that's my last word. . . . And it ain't right to be so 
 businesslike. When two people talk love, it ain't to 
 talk figures. What? .... Anyhow, you ain't said 
 nothing. Come now what do you say?" 
 
 "I say that you're a good fellow, I suppose, in your 
 
 way, Jake, but " Regarding the appearance of 
 
 her suitor critically once again, Maggie was moved 
 to a ripple of irrepressible larghter. 
 
 Jake looked offended, as well he might. 
 
 "Is it something to laugh at ?" he inquired, assuming
 
 JAKE'S PASSING 213 
 
 an air of injured dignity that became him ill. "I tell 
 you, Miss Pepper, this marriage now, it's nothing to 
 laugh at. ... I want a serious answer, one straight 
 from the heart." 
 
 "Straight from the shoulder will do as well," Mag- 
 gie mused. Then, she spoke aloud: "No!" 
 
 Jake sniffed. 
 
 "I refuse to accept your offer," he declared, in his 
 most businesslike manner. "I give you sixty no, 
 ninety days to come to my terms. When you think 
 it over, you will see. . . . Now, I go." 
 
 And go he did.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 A MOTHER'S PENITENCE 
 
 IT was on a beautiful spring morning that Ada 
 Darkin, while walking across Central Park, caught 
 sight of her daughter, after months of separation. It 
 was one of the rare days a day when life was stir- 
 ring everywhere. The new birth was in the vivid 
 green of turf and leaf, in the romping birds aloft, 
 which made joy vocal, in the soft, slow pulse of the 
 air, in the greater glory of the vernal sun, in the move- 
 ments of men, women and children, who stepped forth 
 more alertly, responsive to Nature's surge of life. 
 Even Ada, world-worn and weary, felt the dominant 
 thrill of the time, and vague longings welled impotent 
 within her soul. She had no strength to fight for a 
 new life, and the old was grown hateful. She desired 
 now desired with an intensity that was pain 
 under the impulse of this perfect day; but she knew 
 her weakness, and remained without hope. The 
 splendor of the season reacted on her to make despair 
 more dreadful. 
 
 214
 
 A MOTHER'S PENITENCE 215 
 
 In this mood of misery, her eyes were caught by 
 the trim figure of a school-girl, who was walking in a 
 path that ran not far from her own. The girl went 
 forward with a lissome grace of motion, beautiful in 
 its revelation of gladsome youth and health. The 
 daintiness of her clothing proved her the child of pros- 
 perity. Ada, contemplating the gaiety that character- 
 ized every movement of the girl, the evident happiness 
 of mood, understood that here was the spirit of the 
 day incarnate, its care-free happiness, its youth, its 
 life. For a moment, fierce envy of this young creature 
 with unfettered possibilities swept over the woman. 
 The hideousness of the contrast between such a one 
 and herself filled her with self-pity hardly to be borne. 
 For her, all the possibilities of life worth while were 
 gone forever. There remained for the future only a 
 repetition of the past the Dead Sea apples of false 
 pleasure, misery, shame. 
 
 As she reached a bend in the path, where it came 
 closest to the other, Ada, still watching the school-girl, 
 was struck with a sudden incredible suspicion. She 
 peered more closely, her heart pounding. The stroke 
 of lightning conviction fell on her. Stunned by the 
 bolt, she stood immobile, staring with dilated eyes, 
 until the girl passed around a turn in the path, and a 
 screen of shrubberies -hid her from view.
 
 216 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 A sigh escaped the woman's lips, and she shuddered. 
 The revelation of the girl's identity, which she could 
 not doubt, stirred her to the uttermost depths of her 
 being: for the school-girl was her only child, her 
 daughter, Margaret. The incarnate spirit of the day 
 was of her own flesh and blood. She moved forward 
 slowly, dazedly, walking with dragging feet, until she 
 reached a bench, where she sank down apathetically. 
 Her mind was too confused for coherent thought in 
 the first effect of the shock. The one thought of which 
 she was capable swung like a pendulum to and fro 
 in tormenting iteration: "My child mine!" 
 
 Presently, she recovered some measure of com- 
 posure. From crass amazement, she passed to sweet 
 wonder over this miracle. Profound penitence for her 
 own part toward the child beat in her heart. Along 
 with it went a shamed pride in herself, for, after all, 
 she was the child's mother. And the pride made the 
 penitence beat more vehemently, since she had bartered 
 the glory of maternity for husks. 
 
 Somehow, out of the day and her mood, the woman 
 wrought the beginning of salvation. She did not 
 guess it then indeed, not until long after, but so it 
 was. The mother-love, ill-nurtured always, trampled 
 under foot, despised, yet lived deep within the recesses 
 of her being, now to creep upward toward the light.
 
 A MOTHER'S PENITENCE 217 
 
 She remembered her dereliction of duty toward the 
 child, and loathed herself. In her abasement, she 
 humbly thanked God that the girl had gone from her 
 control, thus to be free of the contaminations that made 
 her own environment. She was pierced with anguish 
 over the thought that her daughter was lost to her, 
 yet she was infinitely glad that it was so. ... Such 
 is the paradox of motherhood. It had come, at last, 
 to Ada Darkin. 
 
 She continued there on the park bench for hours, 
 brooding over her life, its round of follies, always 
 without recompense. Imagination built a life's best 
 happiness for the child. This was her solitary comfort. 
 . . . But, as the shadows of night drew about her, a 
 new, frightful thought assailed her. The vision of the 
 girl had been so radiant that it had seemed something 
 altogether apart from sordid things. Now, however, 
 memory flashed her husband's scheming against the 
 child. She remembered how he had spoken of his 
 plans freely before her, knowing that she dare object 
 to nothing he might undertake, so great were her 
 weakness of purpose and her fear of him. Recollec- 
 tion of the man's evil project set the woman shudder- 
 ing again. 
 
 Suddenly, she sprang up, and set forth, almost 
 running. She would thwart the machinations of her
 
 218 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 husband, whatever the cost in suffering to herself that 
 might result. Better any ill, or death itself, at his 
 hands than the rack of conscience which would rend 
 her incessantly if she failed in her duty now. . . . 
 First, she must hurry home, there to learn all she 
 might as to Darkin's plotting ; then, she would seek out 
 her sister-in-law, to give warning of the peril. 
 
 So, it came about that in the evening following 
 Jake's proposal, Maggie was dismayed and angry to 
 receive a call from Ada Darkin. Standing and facing 
 the unwelcome visitor, she spoke her mind emphati- 
 cally : 
 
 "When I got your pardon through Mrs. Thatcher, 
 you promised faithfully that you'd never come to my 
 home again. Yet, since that time, you and your hus- 
 hand have hounded me for every dollar I could rake 
 and scrape together. You have made wretched returns, 
 Ada, for the kindness I did you." 
 
 Ada Darkin cringed before the accusation, but she 
 showed no sign of retreat. Maggie, observing closely, 
 noted with surprise that the cheeks were free of rouge, 
 for the first time within her experience. The dress, 
 too, was sedate, unlike the usual garish garments. The 
 whole air of the woman seemed changed, subdued, yet 
 more efficient. The alteration was external surely; 
 somehow, nevertheless, it seemed significant of a differ-
 
 A MOTHER'S PENITENCE 219 
 
 ence in the entire personality. The fact was evidenced 
 again in the timbre of her voice, which had lost its 
 old-time harsh and flippant note. Now, it was gentle, 
 pleading : 
 
 "Don't blame me too severely, Maggie," she urged. 
 "I have been guilty in every way. The reason was my 
 weakness and fear : there never was an excuse. . . . 
 But don't say anything more until you have heard what 
 I have to tell you. I've come to tell you. I've got the 
 strength, at last. I saw Margaret a few times when 
 you first took her I saw her again to-day, after 
 months. She's not the same child. She mustn't go 
 back to the other life she can't. That's why I've 
 come to-night. Darkin swears he'll take her with us 
 to Denver. I don't dare to tell you what for. He's 
 angry because you've stopped giving him money. He 
 wants to punish you through her and he's a devil !" 
 Her voice sank to a whisper as she spoke the words, 
 learned out of her own suffering. "He says he won't 
 take the money now, even if you offer it." Ada was 
 trembling with the strength of her emotions, and her 
 eyes burned somberly. There could be no doubt as to 
 her present sincerity of purpose. 
 
 Maggie motioned to a chair, and seated herself 
 alongside. 
 
 "Go on," she commanded, curtly.
 
 220 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 "Oh, it's a hellish thing!" Ada cried. Her voice 
 quavered ; she wrung her hands. "There's a friend of 
 his out there, one of his own kind gambler, crook. 
 And he he's always been sweet on Margaret." With 
 a singular sort of under-consciousness, Maggie was 
 aware of the fact that to-night the mother called the 
 daughter Margaret, where before it had been Zaza. 
 Yet, every atom of her intelligence was given to fol- 
 lowing the words that told of Margie's peril. She 
 recalled Darkin's threat now : it had been driven from 
 her thoughts by the rapid sequence of events that 
 followed. Her soul sickened with horror as she heard 
 Ada's final phrase: "And this pal wants her, and 
 Jim says she's got to go to him." The woman col- 
 lapsed in her chair, overcome. 
 
 But Maggie was not in the mood for mercy. She 
 regarded Margie's mother with abhorrence. 
 
 "Bad as you are," she exclaimed, and her voice was 
 savage, "I should think you'd be ashamed ashamed ! 
 My God!" 
 
 "I am ashamed," came the quick answer. The 
 woman straightened with new energy, and met the 
 accusing gray eyes firmly. "I am ashamed oh, how 
 ashamed ! That's why I've come, to beg you to get her 
 away somewhere as soon as you can. Why, I've 
 promised him to take her back with me to-night. That
 
 A MOTHER'S PENITENCE 221 
 
 was how I got away from him to come here, at all. 
 And I'm more than ashamed : I'm tired tired of it 
 all. I'm tired of him, tired of everything like him. 
 If only I wasn't so afraid, I'd never go back to him 
 again never ! . . . Maggie, you don't know what 
 it is to be afraid of a man, and yet be compelled to 
 live with him just because you are afraid. It's 
 horrible horrible ! I've swindled, and stolen, I've 
 I've done everything for that man, and yet, if I cross 
 him in the smallest thing, he threatens to tell the police 
 something about me something dreadful he has on 
 me. . . . But he shaVt have her he sha'n't !" 
 
 "He sha'n't!" Maggie echoed, tensely. Her eyes 
 were fierce ; the red lips were set straight. Ada felt a 
 thrill of comfort in the strength and resolution of the 
 girl. "I'm going to take her out of the country to 
 Europe. We sail Saturday morning." 
 
 "Oh, good good !" the mother exclaimed. There 
 was a note of triumph in her voice. "You will save 
 her from him, I know ! Oh, I am glad ! . . . I wish 
 to God I were going with you, Maggie." There was 
 a little pause ; then, the woman spoke again, falteringly, 
 slowly: "Will you let me see her just to say 
 good-bye?" 
 
 Instantly, Maggie's manner changed. From defi- 
 ance, it became apology. She had come to believe in
 
 222 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 the mother's sincerity, but she could not yet forgive 
 so far as to grant this boon. Innocent, she judged guilt 
 severely, as is the habit of innocence. 
 
 "Please, no," she said, with downcast eyes. "I hate 
 to refuse you, Ada; but but she's beginning to 
 forget. I don't want to bring up the old life." She 
 felt that the reason was worse than the refusal 
 harder for a mother to bear; yet, this mother had 
 brought it on herself. 
 
 Ada bore her disappointment bravely, in the spirt of 
 self-sacrifice. 
 
 "You're right," she agreed, simply. "Oh, I know 
 what you've done for her since I saw her to-day, happy, 
 like other girls, clean and sweet. I read character in 
 her face what I never had, character!" She was 
 silent for a moment, then burst forth again, in tremu- 
 lous fear: "But look out, or he'll get her yet. I tell 
 you, he's a devil. When he sets his mind en anything, 
 he makes out somehow always. Look out for him !" 
 
 "Never fear," Maggie encouraged. "I'll take every 
 precaution. He won't have a chance." 
 
 "I'll tell him you've moved from here, and that I 
 couldn't find you. That may put him off for a little 
 and it may not." She stared at her sister-in-law 
 sorrowfully, with moist eyes. "Oh, Maggie," she 
 exclaimed regretfully, "I've never treated you right.
 
 A MOTHER'S PENITENCE 223 
 
 That kid brother of yours spoiled me. If he'd only 
 acted like a man, beaten me, or something ! Why, 
 if he had, I might have gone straight." She began 
 crying, quietly. "I hate to weaken," she said, brokenly, 
 "but I'm so wrong, and I've always been wrong. And, 
 to-day, when I saw my little girl there in the park, it 
 all came home to me!" 
 
 "There there !" Maggie's kindly heart was moved 
 to forget its bitterness against guilt, and the music of 
 her voice was sweet in the ears of the older woman. 
 "It's all over and done with, now. . . . Would you 
 really like to say good-bye to Margie?" Thus, she 
 proved the reality of her sympathy. 
 
 In an instant, the mist of tears vanished before the 
 sunshine of happiness on the woman's face. Her eyes 
 wandered expectantly. Maggie called, and, after a 
 moment, the child appeared from the adjoining room. 
 At sight of her mother, she stood stock-still, completely 
 at a loss. Finally, she advanced a few steps timidly, 
 while her mother and aunt sat silent, equally ill at ease. 
 Then, she halted again, and spoke in candid confusion : 
 
 "I don't know what to say. . . . How's how's 
 Mr. Darkin?" 
 
 "Very well, thank you," Ada answered quickly, with 
 formal politeness. But natural feeling rushed in her 
 next utterance, which was to Maggie to all the
 
 224 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 universe, so great was her delight : "Doesn't she look 
 fine? Doesn't she oh, doesn't she?" 
 
 "Aunt Margaret has done so much!" Margie mur- 
 mured. 
 
 "Certainly, I never did anything," the mother de- 
 clared, her voice suddenly bitter in humiliation. "It 
 was up to me to do it, and I didn't. When I look at 
 you, my shame seems greater than I can bear; I feel 
 so helpless, so hopeless! God bless your Aunt Mar- 
 garet. If someone had taken me in hand at your age, 
 I'd have been a different woman. . . . Oh, if I didn't 
 have to go back to him ! I hate the very thought of it !" 
 
 Maggie cried out sharply : 
 
 "Well, why do you go back to him?" The steady 
 questioning in the warm eyes, now all tenderness and 
 sympathy, set the woman trembling. 
 
 "But I must," she answered, feebly. "He he 
 expects me." 
 
 Maggie leaned far forward, so that her face was 
 close to that of the other woman ; there was contempt 
 in her voice, with overtones of pity : 
 
 "That's just the trouble with you, Ada. Someone 
 expects you to do a thing, and you obey anyone 
 except yourself. You have no will not the least 
 bit in the world. Now, suppose you obey me a little. 
 Listen! Leave this man, Darkin. If you're really in
 
 ' I'M GOING TO TRY AND MAKE MYSELF WORTHY OF YOU BOTH.
 
 A MOTHER'S PENITENCE 22$ 
 
 earnest about being sorry and everything, I'll help you. 
 So will Mrs. Thatcher, and so will Margie." 
 
 "Yes!" the child cried, with an enthusiasm thai- 
 showed her love for the mother was not all dead. The 
 single word was a wine of strength to the woman's 
 courage. 
 
 "You will?" she questioned, incredulous. 
 
 "I certainly will," Maggie affirmed; "we will all 
 of us!" 
 
 The promise gave stamina. Ada sprang to her feet, 
 and the rougeless cheeks were crimson; she held her 
 head erect ; her gaze was bright with daring. 
 
 "I'll do it !" She spoke softly, reverently. She was 
 turning from hell toward heaven. "I'll do it I'll do 
 it!" 
 
 Maggie, because she was unable to look beneath the 
 surface, had recourse to the stimulus of a sneer to 
 brace resolve: 
 
 "You'll weaken before you get to the street-corner, 
 was her rudely flung gibe. 
 
 Ada made answer meekly, but with profound 
 seriousness : 
 
 "No, I won't. You'll see. Maggie, I'm going to 
 do it, if it's the last act of my life. I'm going to try 
 and make myself worthy of you both." 
 
 Margie, who had been standing still, looking on the
 
 226 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 scene with absorbed attention, now interrupted, clap- 
 ping her hands gleefully : 
 
 "Oh, Auntie," she cried, "can't we take her with us ?" 
 
 Maggie regarded the child in blank amazement, not 
 unmingled with consternation at the audacity of the 
 idea. But Ada seized on it with avidity. Notwith- 
 standing her newly acquired courage, there was an 
 infinity of relief in the anticipation of a few thousand 
 miles distance between her and James Darkin. 
 
 "Europe!" she breathed. "Why, I'll go in the 
 steerage. I'll go as your maid. Let me wait on you 
 both. Anything to make good, and to get away 
 from him anything, Maggie! It's my one chance. 
 If I stay in this country, he'll find me, and make me go 
 back to him. I know him! It's up to you now, 
 Maggie, whether I'm to go back to him, or not." She 
 fell silent, gazing wistfully at the arbiter of her destiny. 
 
 Margie added : 
 
 "She means it, Auntie I know she does." 
 
 "I must think it over," Maggie replied, doubtfully. 
 "It's an experiment, of course an awfully long shot, 
 
 too. . . . But, perhaps " There was yielding in 
 
 the voice. 
 
 Ada bowed her head in thanksgiving. When she 
 spoke, her tones were resonant of a holy gladness 
 the gladness of the penitent who knows redemption. 
 
 "Oh, thank God!"
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 EXPLOSION ! 
 
 JOSEPH, immediately on his return from Washing- 
 ton, discovered the fact that Maggie had left the 
 service of Holbrooke and Company. He was furious 
 at the news. He felt that the most sacred things of 
 friendship had been trampled on ruthlessly by some- 
 one : he would make it his business to find out by whom 
 without an instant of delay. Moreover, his obligations 
 to the blood, his duty to the ancestors, on account of 
 which he had plunged into mercantile activities, had 
 been largely nullified by the departure of the one 
 person responsible for his success. Noblesse oblige 
 demanded that he find Miss Pepper and set things 
 straight at once. Joseph went no farther in his reason- 
 ing, nor was there need of more: here was enough. 
 Of course, the question of love was not in any way 
 involved. 
 
 But the young man found difficulties in the path of 
 accomplishment. When he interviewed Hargen, that 
 wily gentleman made it clear that Miss Pepper had 
 
 227
 
 228 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 resigned in order to accept a more advantageous offer 
 from Greenwald and Company. For the first time in 
 his life, the manager praised the former buyer, her 
 personal worth, her value to Holbrooke and Company. 
 He fondled a whisker sadly, and regretted the great 
 loss sustained by the firm in her leaving it. Joseph, 
 who at the outset had been sure that Hargen was 
 guilty in the matter, was first placated and then con- 
 vinced as to the manager's part. The written resig- 
 nation, which he inspected, seemed to substantiate the 
 old man's account. He remembered the girl's decree 
 that all intimacy between them must cease, and her 
 subsequent conduct appeared almost inevitable. He 
 began to believe that the scandal had driven Maggie 
 to this course in self-defense, that thus there might 
 be no additional justification of gossip. In the end, he 
 decided that he ought to respect her wishes. It 
 required great self-denial on his part, but he resisted 
 the temptation to visit her at once. To do so, he knew, 
 would be the one thing unjustifiable according to her 
 standard of conduct, since it would only give new 
 excuse for scandal-mongering. It seemed to him, 
 indeed, that the condition of affairs was hateful beyond 
 measure, but that it must be borne. Such was the 
 sacrifice demanded for friendship's sake. 
 
 Joseph went his ways now in a loneliness that was
 
 EXPLOSION! 229 
 
 well-night intolerable. He visited Ethel dutifully 
 it had come about that all life was one tedious duty 
 but he found no consolations in her beautiful presence. 
 Idly, he wondered why. It occurred to him that he was 
 not getting his fair share of love's raptures. Suddenly, 
 the shocking idea leaped in his brain that friendship 
 was infinitely better than love. At least, he found it 
 so better in every way, satisfying to the whole 
 nature of a man. But the knowledge that had dawned 
 in his heart not long before, still shone forth very 
 dimly. For only a single instant did he see love and 
 friendship one. The look that had been once in 
 Maggie's eyes lived again in memory a look domi- 
 nant, subtle, sorrow-laden, joyous a look to wonder 
 over, to long for, to die for if need be. ... Joseph 
 strove bravely to put memory and knowledge away 
 from him, for he was a loyal gentleman, and he had 
 plighted his troth to Ethel Hargen. To comfort him- 
 self with the sense of duty well done, which seemed the 
 sole consolation left to him, he straightway stopped 
 in at the Hargen mansion for a cup of tea with his 
 fiance. 
 
 The girl welcomed him tenderly. In a black gown 
 that showed the pliant graces of her form and served 
 to emphasize the delicate ivory complexion of the face, 
 she was lovely enough to make any lover content.
 
 230 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 Joseph judicially admitted this truth, and waited for 
 comfort from her radiant presence. It did not come. 
 The fact disturbed him mightily. In his dismay, he 
 reasoned more subtly than was his custom. Since he 
 got no content of her, he was not her lover. From 
 his own premises, the conclusion was inevitable. 
 There could, in truth, be no doubt as to the exact 
 situation: He was not her lover. He had suspected 
 as much he had even known it, but only furtively. 
 He had driven the idea from him by dogged will- 
 power. Now, however, there was no gainsaying the 
 truth. She was all that she had ever been, more 
 beautiful, indeed, than when he had felt his first 
 infatuation for her. As he studied her appearance 
 critically, he was forced to confess that he could find 
 no flaw, either in person or mind or manner. He did 
 not concern himself with her morals he took them 
 for granted, a course that is often more convenient than 
 prudent. But, despite her feminine worth, he realized 
 that she bored him to extinction. He had no least bit 
 of interest in her. What she said, or thought or did, 
 was unspeakably trivial to him or worse, offensive. 
 The sum of it all amounted to this: she was not the 
 right woman. If any evidence had been needed further, 
 it was ready to hand in the fact that he knew perfectly 
 well, though he would not confess, who the right
 
 EXPLOSION! 231 
 
 woman was. ... At this point in his meditations, 
 Joseph groaned aloud. 
 
 "Good gracious, Joe!" Ethel exclaimed, astonished 
 and alarmed. He had been sitting apparently so atten- 
 tive to her account of the way a chief rival used art to eke 
 out nature in the matter of complexion and form that 
 she was genuinely concerned over the interruption. It 
 flashed on her how dreadful it would be were he to die 
 just now, before their marriage. "Are you in awful 
 pain ? Where is it ? Shall I telephone for a doctor ?" 
 
 Joseph shook his head, shamefacedly. 
 
 "It's nothing, really it's gone now. It's a twinge 
 I've had often." 
 
 Ethel was fondly solicitous. Her sympathy was so 
 compelling that Joseph, becoming penitent for his 
 feeling toward her, assumed an air of briskness, which 
 had recently been lacking on his part during their in- 
 terviews. The girl gathered confidence from the 
 welcome change, and took the opportunity to discuss 
 the marriage he had just attended. She was impelled 
 to the topic by a lively hope that it would spur the 
 laggard lover on to thinking of a time for their own 
 nuptials. Alas! it had no such effect. She wore the 
 theme threadbare, while Joseph assisted to the best 
 of his ability; but he resisted the lure, either of intent 
 or stupidity Ethel could not be sure which. The
 
 232 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 failure fretted the girl. The threatening red glowed 
 softly beneath the pallor of the cheeks, and there was 
 a concealed tenseness in her pose. Joseph, if he 
 observed the signals, was unable to interpret the por- 
 tents. Gradually, his artificial vivacity died away, 
 until his entire attention was again centered on his 
 private miseries. Ethel, keenly observant, perceived 
 his abstraction now, guessed its cause, and it set her 
 raging secretly. It was useless for her to seek satis- 
 faction in the man's evident wretchedness as he sat 
 silent before her on the ground that it proved the 
 victory of her machinations. After all, there was small 
 gratification in knowing that her plottings were of 
 avail as compared with that other woman's for the 
 man before her, when he had no longer a liking for her 
 charms. Mrs. Thatcher had been right in supposing 
 that Ethel, scorned, would act up to the poetic sugges- 
 tion. She had already done her best in that direction 
 by causing the dismissal of her rival and the separation 
 from Joseph. At least, she judged that the separation 
 had been accomplished effectually, since his bearing 
 was so utterly forlorn. Such success, grateful as 
 might otherwise have been, was impotent to soothe 
 as she beheld the man's insulting indifference to her- 
 self. The wound to her pride and self-love goaded 
 the passionate girl almost to frenzy. She tried her
 
 EXPLOSION! 233 
 
 best to keep shut the flood-gates of wrath, but the task 
 was beyond her strength. Dangerous as she knew 
 the subject to be at this time when his feelings were 
 acute, she yet ventured upon it, despite reason and will. 
 
 "Miss Pepper has left her position," she said, 
 abruptly. Her voice was a little strained, but there 
 was no other particular evidence of emotion. "Uncle 
 told me." 
 
 "Yes," Joseph answered, in a lifeless tone. He 
 winced perceptibly, however, and the sight served still 
 further to inflame the girl. 
 
 'The scandal will die down now," she suggested. 
 "There will be an end to the gossip, since she's out of 
 your way." 
 
 "It's of her own choice," Joseph said, wearily. 
 
 "But " He broke off, afraid to reveal too much 
 
 of his emotion if he spoke another word just then. 
 
 "Of her own choice !" Ethel repeated. There was a 
 world of sarcastic meaning in her utterance a hint 
 of vengeance triumphant. 
 
 Joseph darted a glance at the girl, and the aspect of 
 her reinforced the effect of her words on him. Usually, 
 he was not given to fine discriminations. He was 
 inclined to take things at their face value, as the 
 simplest, and, usually, the best way. In this instance, 
 however, his mind was strung to exceptional discern-
 
 234 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 ment. Though still unknowing, he loved at last with his 
 whole being, a love of heart and mind and soul and 
 strength. It was because of this love that he was now 
 suffering. More, the woman whom he loved was 
 gripped by the like anguish, if he had read aright the 
 memory of one look in her eyes. The chief thing in 
 the universe was Maggie's happiness. . . . Had the 
 girl there before him done aught to afflict this other 
 whom she had openly detested? His brain worked 
 easily, with subtle suspicions. Ethel had sought to 
 have Maggie removed from her position: she had 
 failed in the attempt. The fact showed her animus 
 clearly. But had she failed, after all? Joseph sud- 
 denly realized that the departure of the buyer had 
 taken place during his absence from the city. True, 
 he had seen her resignation ; he had accepted as suffi- 
 cient for it the girl's wish that the intimacy between 
 her and him should be discontinued. Was that the 
 right explanation of her resignation ? Had there been 
 something else, some other cause, sinister and secret 
 the clue to which lay beneath Ethel's scornful repeti- 
 tion of his own words? 
 
 Joseph stooped to trickery something he had 
 never done before with man or woman, for his prime 
 virtue was honesty. He stared accusingly, wherein
 
 EXPLOSION! 235 
 
 he was honest enough. But he went farther : he put 
 his accusation explicitly in words, and in doing so he 
 lied baldly: 
 
 "Yes, of her own choice !" he exclaimed bitterly, in 
 his turn. There was no under-note of exultation in 
 his tones, as there had been in hers. On the contrary, 
 there was lively disgust, which gave point to the accu- 
 sation that followed: "Your uncle owned up to the 
 whole thing when I got him cornered. I know exactly 
 what it means when I refer to her own clioice." He 
 waited in mortal suspense. He had drawn his bow at 
 a venture. What would the issue be? ... He was 
 not left long in doubt. 
 
 A moment, the girl opposite him sat aghast. His 
 manner deceived her completely. She made no ques- 
 tion that he knew everything, as he had said. He had 
 suspected somehow, he had frightened that old dotard, 
 her uncle, he had drawn out the truth, he was perfectly 
 aware of her participation in the plot her uncle 
 would have laid the whole blame on her for his own 
 safety's sake. Yes, this lover of hers, who loved 
 another woman more, had come to her now for the 
 pleasure of playing with her, flouting her. It was 
 intolerable. She would give him to understand! 
 She . . . All restraints failed : On the instant,
 
 236 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 the flood-gates were lifted, and the waves of wrath 
 worked their will. 
 
 Fifteen minutes later, Joseph went forth from the 
 Hargen mansion. Varied emotions seethed hotly in 
 his breast. One fact only stood out in relief from the 
 turmoil: Whatever the issue of events otherwise, he 
 would never marry Ethel Harg-en. He had told her 
 so : she had refused to release him ; he had persisted : 
 she had threatened. The threats disturbed him, but 
 not enough to overcome a profound thankfulness for 
 this revelation by which he had been saved from taking 
 her to wife. He shuddered at the bare idea of marriage 
 with one such as she had shown herself, stripped naked 
 of all veneer by rage. He could have pardoned much 
 to one merely carried out of herself by anger : he could 
 never forgive Ethel, never respect the nature her wrath 
 had uncovered. It was not the flurry of a passing 
 storm in her case : it was the glimpsing of the char- 
 acter that hid under artifice. So, he thanked God 
 that his eyes had been opened ere yet it was too late. 
 Before him, trouble loomed large for himself, and 
 what was immeasurably worse for that other woman. 
 Yet, he was mindful of the mercy that had been 
 vouchsafed him by a margin so narrow. His escape 
 from a fatal mistake gave him new courage to face the 
 ills to come.
 
 EXPLOSION! 237 
 
 "First of all, she must know," he muttered as he 
 swung on a passing car. 
 
 It was thus that, for the first time, Joseph set out 
 to visit Maggie Pepper in her home.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 LOVERS AT ODDS 
 
 IT was with a tremendous effort that Maggie 
 retained her poise when, soon after the departure of 
 Ada, Joseph Holbrooke was ushered into her presence. 
 All the hurt bewilderment over his attitude toward 
 her vanished in the magic of his being there before 
 her. If he had possessed the knowledge of his own 
 heart and a courage sufficient to sweep her into his 
 arms at the moment of entrance, she would have 
 nestled there, content, asking no question of fate. But 
 he was still hesitant, ignorant of the vital truth, and, 
 too, timorous, afraid to startle her by any overt action. 
 Out of his weakness, she plucked strength, so that, 
 after the first brief confusion, she had full mastery of 
 herself and of the situation. She invited him to a 
 chair, and took another at a little distance in a manner 
 sufficiently natural to tantalize his eagerness, who was 
 all agog to make known his news, yet lacked the 
 courage to command. It was much to his credit, how- 
 ever, that he wasted no time in preambles. 
 
 238
 
 LOVERS AT ODDS 239 
 
 "It's all off!" he declared abruptly, after the formal 
 greetings had been exchanged. He did not bother with 
 any reference to Maggie's dismissal from the employ 
 of the firm time enough in the future to talk of 
 that. 
 
 "All off?" the girl repeated, astonished and bewil- 
 dered by both his words and manner. "What is all 
 off?" 
 
 "My engagement to Ethel Hargen is broken off 
 marriage postponed indefinitely. That's done with, 
 thank heaven !" His tone was fervent. 
 
 Maggie uttered an ejaculation. The news stunned 
 her for the moment. She could not tell as yet whether 
 she were glad or sorry. 
 
 "You've broken off your engagement with Miss 
 Hargen?" she murmured, confusedly. 
 
 "Yes," Joseph said. There was a trace of satis- 
 faction in his tone that increased the listener's 
 bewilderment. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Holbrooke!" Maggie cried, with a note 
 of genuine commiseration in her voice. 
 
 But the young man was not minded to have sympa- 
 thy in this direction, and he hastened to make the 
 fact apparent by his next utterance, which was deliv- 
 ered with an air of truculence. 
 
 "And, what's more, I'm glad of it !"
 
 2 4 o MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 "Oh, no, you're not," came the spirited retort "She 
 loves you and you love her !" 
 
 "Do I?" Joseph questioned. There was a certain 
 wistfulness in his phrasing of the question. "You see, 
 that's just the question." 
 
 "Why, of course you do," the girl declared, with 
 much animation. The strength of her feeling toward 
 him made necessary a vigorous plea in order to con- 
 ceal what was in her heart. "You've told me so dozens 
 of times yes, indeed, dozens of times !" The repeti- 
 tion was as much as she could contrive for her part 
 in the dialogue just then. But, after a moment, she 
 had herself well in hand again, and spoke with a 
 manner half-petulant, in rebuke: "Oh, dear! And 
 it's all about nothing nothing !" 
 
 Joseph regarded the girl with extreme gloominess 
 of countenance. This was not at all what he had 
 expected. He had anticipated trouble in abundance, 
 but not of this sort. His eyes took in the slender 
 grace of her form, the daintiness of the beautiful face, 
 so richly crowned, the warm splendor of the eyes, 
 now all a-sparkle with excitement, the rose color rising 
 and falling on the white satin of her cheeks, the red 
 sweetness of her lips, the dimple that vanished only to 
 reappear. He realized the fascination of her as never 
 before. . . . And she had just said that all this fuss
 
 LOVERS AT ODDS 241 
 
 was about nothing! Her aloofness from him was 
 appalling, when their interests were so closely in touch. 
 
 "About nothing!" he repeated, gruffly. "On the 
 contrary, it's about you." 
 
 "Well, it amounts to the same thing," Maggie 
 retorted, flippantly. But she dropped her eyes as she 
 spoke. The directness of his statement found her at 
 a loss. She evaded the issue artfully. "All you'll 
 have to do," she continued airily, still without looking 
 at him, "is to write her a nice letter of apology just 
 beg her forgiveness, you know, and send it to her 
 immediately. I'm sure you were in the wrong, what- 
 ever the trouble was. But, when you've done as you 
 should, she'll forgive you." 
 
 Her persistence in this attitude exasperated the 
 young man. 
 
 "I don't want to be forgiven, thank you," he 
 snapped. "Besides, I'm the offended party." 
 
 "Oh, yes, naturally," was the easy answer. "But 
 you're a man. Now, please, don't make a lot of ex- 
 cuses, but just do as I tell you." Her tone was so 
 dictatorial that Joseph smiled grimly. 
 
 "Is that the way you talk to your boss?" he de- 
 manded. 
 
 "You're not my boss," Maggie replied, with em- 
 phasis. At last, she met his eyes fairly.
 
 242 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 "That's so," he admitted, regretfully. "You've left 
 and that's why I did it : because you left. Now, if 
 
 you'll come back " His whole manner was 
 
 suddenly grown beseeching, to such an extent, indeed, 
 that it vaguely alarmed the girl. 
 
 "No, no, I can't ! I've taken another position," she 
 faltered, with traces of discomposure. "But, now, 
 please, you must really go home, and write that letter." 
 
 Joseph shook his head vehemently. 
 
 "No," he declared, emphatically. "It took some 
 courage on my part to break it off as I did." He would 
 have liked to explain somewhat in detail just what a 
 demon of rage had confronted him in that interview, 
 but a sense of chivalry prevented him. "It would take 
 more courage to put it together again," he added, 
 "You must understand that the thing is ended and 
 done forever, Margaret." It was the first time that he 
 had thus addressed her by name, and she thrilled with 
 the joy of it, though she betrayed nothing of her 
 emotion visibly. "The marriage is not to be. There is 
 no other way out. She said things not to be borne by 
 any man who respects himself. I can't tell you more 
 than that. That of itself would have been enough. 
 But there was plenty besides. Don't make a jest of it, 
 Margaret." Again her name. He spoke it easily, as 
 if he thought of her so. Gladness came a second time
 
 LOVERS AT ODDS 243 
 
 in the listener's breast. She was strangely perplexed 
 now, a little frightened perhaps she was not quite 
 sure. "She she said things about you things I 
 could never forgive." 
 
 "Oh, never mind about me," the girl contended, with 
 a fine show of disdain. 
 
 "But I do mind about you, Margaret," Joseph cried, 
 and there was deep feeling in his voice. "I must! 
 That's what troubles me so much. You see, she's a 
 jealous, vindictive woman. I don't wish to abuse her, 
 but I must make you understand, somehow. She con- 
 trived to get you discharged by her uncle during my 
 absence in Washington. I only returned to-day. I 
 found that you had gone. I was all upset, naturally 
 after all I owe you, too. I supposed at first that you 
 had done it in order to keep away from me. That's 
 why I didn't get here sooner," he concluded, simply. 
 Maggie's soul delighted in the explanation of the thing 
 that had so troubled her. "Then, finally," Joseph went 
 on doggedly, "I got the truth out of her. She was 
 hysterical with rage. She told more than she meant 
 to she couldn't stop, she was so angry. And what 
 she said good God ! No, there can never be any talk 
 of marriage between her and me unless it's in the 
 courts. . . . And that brings me to what's really the 
 matter. Do you know what she says she'll do ?" The
 
 244 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 girl shook her head, wonderingly. She saw dimly the 
 menacing figure of Ethel bearing down on her with a 
 brandished dagger. "Well, she says she'll sue me 
 bring an action in the courts for breach of promise." 
 He fell silent for a little, staring at Maggie intently, 
 awaiting some comment from her. But there was none 
 forthcoming. She could only sit mute, bewildered at 
 this latest disclosure, so minatory, so sinister. 
 
 "And she's going to do that," Joseph went on inex- 
 orably, "just for the express purpose of bringing you 
 into the case, as the the chief cause." He hesitated, 
 and his color rose. To Maggie, it seemed that her 
 heart had ceased beating, for she understood in some 
 measure at least the shame involved by such an accu- 
 sation against a woman's fair repute. "She wants to 
 brand you openly before the whole world," Joseph 
 stated explicitly; "and she means to do it, at whatever 
 cost. She told me so, and that's what has made me 
 turn against her absolutely." Suddenly, the man aban- 
 doned the self-control that had characterized his speech 
 thus far. "Margaret," he went on, with a manner of 
 profound seriousness, "I'm ashamed of myself. It was 
 my fault from the beginning. . . . And I'm I'm 
 going to do the right thing by you." 
 
 Maggie interposed, hastily. There was a hint of 
 hauteur in her voice, as she spoke :
 
 LOVERS AT ODDS 245 
 
 "You have done the right thing by me, Mr. Hol- 
 brooke. As for that, why, I'm of age, and I believe 
 I can take care of myself. I think, too, that, when 
 people don't do the right thing by me, it's really some- 
 how my own fault." 
 
 But her manner of assumed indifference had no 
 effect on Joseph. 
 
 "It's all my fault," he declared. "I've brought the 
 whole ghastly business on you. God ! When I realize 
 what an awful scandal it will be, and all because of me, 
 I could curse myself kill myself, if that would be of 
 any use. Oh, you don't understand, at all. I feel that 
 you should know be prepared, though it's horrible to 
 talk about and to you, of all persons in the world, 
 
 the woman I " He halted abruptly, as if amazed 
 
 over his own thought. The roses in Maggie's cheeks 
 deepened their hue. His voice was very low, as he 
 continued speaking. "You can't realize the scandal 
 of it all. And I'm to blame. Yes, I am ! If I'd only 
 told them from the start that you were my my 
 confidential adviser, it would have been different. But 
 you insisted on my leaving your name out, and on my 
 taking all the credit to myself. So, now, I'm the Na- 
 poleon and so forth, while you're the notorious " 
 
 He broke off miserably, and stared despairingly.
 
 246 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 Maggie rallied the remnants of her strength, and 
 spoke as nonchalantly as she could contrive: 
 
 "Well, why don't you say it ?" 
 
 Joseph continued speaking, as if he had not heard : 
 
 "If she sues, there'll be a fine scandal. Hargen says 
 he has a hundred witnesses. It seems she has been 
 considering this course of action, for she told me that 
 her lawyer declared my reputation's so bad he could 
 win the suit without any witnesses at all. She says 
 that she wants vindication." 
 
 "Well, in a way, I think she's right," Maggie de- 
 clared, magnanimously. 
 
 Joseph stared at her in amazement. 
 
 "I didn't think you'd side against me," he said, re- 
 proachfully. 
 
 But Maggie's thoughts had suddenly veered to 
 another aspect of the situation. 
 
 "Don't you think it was a great mistake for you to 
 come here at all?" she demanded, suddenly. 
 
 "No," Joseph declared, with a stubborn frown. "I 
 wanted to see you, so I came I had to. I'm going 
 to do the right thing, Margaret." 
 
 The girl, in turn, drew her brows down a little, 
 disturbed by his persistence. 
 
 "You must make it all right with her, first of all," 
 she said.
 
 LOVERS AT ODDS 247 
 
 Joseph shrugged his shoulders in denial. 
 
 "Why," he burst forth, "I think more of your little 
 finger than I do of her whole hand. . . . And there's 
 only one thing to do. She's going to sue me well, 
 I'll give her something to sue for. ..." 
 
 "Oh, will you, indeed!" Margaret exclaimed, in- 
 dignantly. 
 
 But the young man went on without heed for her 
 remonstrance : 
 
 "Yes. Do you realize that you that you've 
 become a part of my life? We've been together for 
 months, day after day, in the bonds of friendship and 
 sympathy. We trust each other, know each other 
 love each other Margaret !" 
 
 "Mr. Holbrooke," the girl protested, sharply. She 
 was swept by fear lest she had given him license for 
 indiscretion, which he would regret. She chose now 
 to rebuke him for that use of her name which had so 
 delighted her. "Kindly call me Miss Pepper, just as a 
 mark of respect even if you don't feel it." 
 
 "But I do feel it," Joseph retorted, stoutly. "I feel 
 
 more than respect. I feel Oh, in spite of my 
 
 reputation, I'm not a great hand at love-making 
 that is, not of the mushy sort. . . . You know what 
 I mean." 
 
 "No, I don't know," was the confused answer. "I've
 
 248 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 had very, very little love made to me of the mushy 
 or any other sort." 
 
 "Am I the first?" came the eager question. There 
 was a smile of triumph on the man's face. 
 
 "The first?" Maggie repeated, with a puzzled air, 
 in order to conceal the extent of her emotion at his 
 words. 
 
 "Yes," Joseph insisted. "Tell me, please: Am I 
 the first to offer you my my " 
 
 But his faltering words were summarily interrupted 
 by the girl, who spoke with a curtness designed to 
 discourage eloquence. It seemed to her necessary that 
 she should check him at whatever cost, and she believed 
 that a lightness of manner would best serve her pur- 
 pose. So, now, she let a mocking smile play on her 
 lips, and her voice was whimsically reproachful. Her 
 whole manner was half-maternal, half-bantering, as if. 
 she were scolding a refractory child : 
 
 "Mr. Holbrooke," she said, "suppose you go home 
 and go to bed. That will be the best thing for you to 
 do to-night Then, you can get up bright and early 
 in the morning to-morrow, and dictate all these pretty 
 speeches to your stenographer. The next thing will 
 be to put them away very carefully in your desk, and 
 lock them up. Leave them there to simmer for 
 oh, I think six months would be about the right length
 
 LOVERS AT ODDS 249 
 
 of time. So, half a year from now, if you happen to 
 remember about them, you can get them out, and look 
 them over, and then, if you still have a mind to, you 
 can send them on to me." 
 
 Joseph listened to her raillery with an expression of 
 profound dejection. 
 
 "You won't take me seriously, eh?" he demanded, 
 when, at last, she came to a pause. As the girl made 
 no reply, he went on, speaking earnestly: "Don't you 
 understand? This is nothing to be laughed away. 
 You're going to be publicly accused of the very worst. 
 Can you see your name in the big type, your picture in 
 the evening papers?" There fell a short silence, in 
 which Maggie sat with her eyes downcast, while the 
 man regarded her dismally. Finally, he spoke again, 
 and now his voice was very, very low, tremulous with 
 feeling: "I want to save your good name, Margaret." 
 
 "Well, how do you propose to do it?" Maggie in- 
 quired, coldly. 
 
 "By making you my wife," was the instant answer. 
 His voice rang more firmly now. 
 
 A great sigh broke from the girl's lips. 
 
 "Your wife!" She breathed the words reverently, 
 rapture surging suddenly in her heart. 
 
 "Of course," Joseph said, bewildered by the change
 
 250 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 wrought so swiftly in her. "Why, what did you think 
 I meant? . . . But tell me!" 
 
 Again, there was silence between them, while he 
 gazed anxiously on the face that was by turns dis- 
 tressed and glad. It was a full minute before the girl 
 finally brought herself to the point where she could 
 speak with a fair degree of calmness. Her words 
 made clear the perplexity that had seized her. 
 
 "Oh, I don't know I didn't think you meant any- 
 thing, exactly. I " Maggie broke down. She 
 
 could not translate her heart in this moment. Then, 
 without warning, perplexity gave place to dread. It 
 was borne in on her that, after all, he did not really 
 love her, as she loved him. Rather, was he not acting 
 in this fashion merely from a chivalrous sense of duty 
 toward the woman whom his actions had compro- 
 mised? The thought was horrible, indeed; yet it 
 seemed to be plain from the words he had used to her. 
 He had spoken of "doing the right thing" by her 
 only that! It had not been the passionate love for 
 which she so longed that had driven him on to offer 
 marriage. The idea was unendurable, yet she must 
 know the truth, whatever the cost of anguish to her 
 heart. At once, she found her voice again : 
 
 "You said so many things that well, I did think 
 you were just talking. So, I guess now, you just want
 
 LOWERS AT ODDS 
 
 to marry me because because you're willing to 
 sacrifice yourself, just to save me. ... I like you, 
 you know that. I have always liked you, from the 
 very first moment I saw you, there in the store. I've 
 liked you better than any other man I've ever 
 known. Oh, I can't tell you how much you your 
 friendship has been to me! Perhaps, if things were 
 
 different, I might But I care too much for you 
 
 to let you throw yourself away from a sense of chivalry 
 let you ruin your happiness because you've quar- 
 reled with the woman you love !" 
 
 Joseph cried out in anger at her words. 
 
 "The woman I love!" he repeated, significantly. 
 "You know who she is, Margaret. I'm quarreling 
 with the woman I love at this very moment. Don't 
 you know that?" He stared at her accusingly for a 
 few seconds, but she would not meet his eyes. "Don't 
 trifle with me," he continued, sternly. "And you love 
 me, I think. . . . I've seen it in your eyes once!" 
 
 One instant, Maggie yielded to the delight of believ- 
 ing his protestations at their surface worth. 
 
 "Oh, I I can't get over it !" she exclaimed, half- 
 hysterically, between laughter and tears. "Oh, this 
 moment is worth having lived for!" Then, of a 
 sudden, all her doubt returned, sweeping her, as if it 
 had been a tidal wave, back to despair. Now, she
 
 252 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 courageously accepted the challenge in the suitor's final 
 utterance. Her head was lifted proudly. The limpid 
 eyes met his squarely, though a-gleam with a tender- 
 ness that was like a caress. "Well, then," she an- 
 nounced defiantly, "suppose I admit it, suppose I 
 confess that I love you what then?" 
 
 "What then?" Joseph sprang to his feet, his face 
 all alight with joyousness, drew her to his breast, 
 pressed his lips to her cheek. "What then?" he re- 
 peated, triumphantly. "Why, then, we'll marry and 
 live happy ever after, sweetheart." 
 
 The girl lay quiet within his arms, her heart throb- 
 bing exquisite measures for a matter of seconds 
 only. Then, swiftly, she withdrew from his embrace, 
 and sedately seated herself again. Mistaken, Joseph 
 let her go, yielded her up with infinite reluctance, 
 although even yet he did not fully understand the 
 nature of the pang that pierced his heart as he loosened 
 his arms from her. Yet, despite his reluctance in the 
 act, he let her go he did it for her sake, from a sense 
 of delicacy that was to his credit. None the less, it 
 was most cruel to her, for it convinced her that he had 
 in truth been driven to this avowal by chivalry, not 
 by love, as was the fact in a measure but in a 
 measure only, not in its entirety. Afterward, he stood 
 before her, and pleaded his suit in vain. To his every
 
 LOVERS AT ODDS 253 
 
 argument, she had only the one answer : that she would 
 not marry him. She was stricken sore over the renun- 
 ciation, but her love gave strength to persist in self- 
 sacrifice. 
 
 She could not believe in the reality of the love he 
 offered. Because he could not yet read his own heart' 
 aright, it was not permitted to her instinct to guess 
 the truth. She told him baldly that she would not take 
 advantage of his generosity in the way he suggested. 
 
 Joseph argued futilely. 
 
 "Generosity?" he stormed. "I tell you, it isn't 
 generosity. I love you." Abruptly, he resorted to 
 imagination to carry his point: "Why, I've tested 
 myself in a dozen ways, and I know." Then, still 
 again, he reverted to the statement that gave the girl 
 her strength to refuse: "Besides, it's my duty! I 
 want to do the right thing, and I will !" 
 
 "Oh, yes, I quite understand," Maggie agreed, 
 wearily. "Of course, it's your duty. I suppose, too, 
 it's my bounden duty to marry you, quite irrespective 
 of any question as to whether I love you or not, just 
 because a lot of scandal-mongers suspect the very worst 
 of us." 
 
 "To protect your good name, Margaret !" the young 
 man pleaded. 
 
 Maggie gave rein for a moment to temper, for she
 
 254 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 had been sorely tried, and the discussion strained every 
 nerve. She was righting against her own heart as well 
 as his strength of purpose. 
 
 "I haven't any good name," she declared, in despera- 
 tion. "And if there is a shred of reputation left to 
 me, it will take care of itself. I know what I am, and 
 those that know me know what I am. After all, the 
 others don't really matter. . . . You've done your 
 duty, Mr. Holbrooke. As to that, you've done more 
 than your duty. There isn't one man in a thousand 
 would have done as much, and I I respect you for 
 it, more, far more, than I can say. But " 
 
 "But, just the same, you decline my offer." 
 
 "Yes," Maggie admitted. The single word was as 
 authoritative as any decree issued by a sovereign. 
 
 But the disappointment was beginning to fret the 
 usually placid good nature of the young man. Even 
 now, he did not realize the extent to which the best 
 feeling of his heart was involved in this matter, but 
 he was growing weary of being thwarted in his 
 purpose thus persistently. His vein of obstinacy was 
 aroused, and it led him to extravagance in the argu- 
 ment which he next advanced. 
 
 "Do you know, Margaret," he exclaimed suddenly, 
 with vibrant reproach in his voice, "you've deceived me
 
 LOVERS AT ODDS 255 
 
 abominably ? You led me to believe that you loved me, 
 and now " 
 
 The girl interrupted him in hurt surprise. 
 
 "I I deceived you !" she exclaimed, indignantly. 
 "How, I'd like to know?" 
 
 "Why, you've said things dozens of times," Joseph 
 maintained, stubbornly, if vaguely. His brain sought 
 for convincing details. "You've told me again and 
 again, 'Oh, how I love to work !' meaning, for me ; 
 'How I love to be here !' meaning, with me ; 'Oh, 
 how I love this place !' my place. It was love, love 
 love, all the time. . . . And neither of us knew it." 
 
 Suddenly, a great illumination filled the conscious- 
 ness of Joseph Holbrooke. He had been driven on by 
 desire of doing the right thing, as he had averred, and 
 Maggie had recognized; he had been spurred to en- 
 deavor, too, by the arousing of a streak of obstinacy 
 that was strong in his nature ; he had acted throughout 
 with no appreciation of the heart-need that was his. 
 Only now, when his ingenuity had brought him to use 
 argument in which he had not believed himself ere it 
 was uttered, did he, in a lightning-flash, come to know 
 the most vital fact of his being : that he loved this girl 
 there before him with the final, masterful passion of 
 his maturity. He had guessed vaguely that she might 
 love him: now, in a wonderful, glorious instant of
 
 256 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 revelation, he knew that he loved her. Whether for 
 happiness, or for misery, he loved her. That was the 
 one tremendous fact, the greatest thing that had come 
 to him in his life. Perforce, he was silent, contemplat- 
 ing the mightiness of this truth that concerned the 
 very essence of his being. Hitherto, he had followed 
 a boyish infatuation for another woman, Ethel, until 
 it had become a habit from which he could only 
 escape by violent wrench. That wrench had come now. 
 In the severity of this struggle, to which he had been 
 led primarily by a desire to set right a wrong due 
 to his own carelessness in conduct toward another 
 woman, he had been compelled to recognize the change 
 worked in his own heart. He perceived, with a cer- 
 tainty beyond cavil, that this girl whom he had thought 
 merely a friend, was, in reality, the mistress of his 
 heart. The knowledge stunned him, filled him with 
 reverential amazement. He was moved beyond the 
 power of words just then. . . . Suddenly, he was 
 aroused from a trance of wonder by hearing Maggie 
 speaking, and he listened, curiously interested, but in 
 no wise convinced. 
 
 It was evident that the girl had decided to bring 
 the interview to a close. She voiced herself with an 
 assumed nonchalance that might have served its pur-
 
 LOVERS AT ODDS 257 
 
 pose, had it not been for the new knowledge born 
 in the man whom she addressed. 
 
 "Now, listen to me, Joe," she said, in a casual tone. 
 "I'm going to call you 'Joe,' because you're a bully 
 good fellow, and I appreciate all it means your 
 coming here in this way, to make things right. I do 
 think the world of you, but, you see, I can't take you 
 at your word." Maggie's heart was near to breaking, 
 but she continued with an air of lightness that was 
 inimitable. "You see, Joe, I've got to set that girl in 
 there Margie an example. And, if I took you 
 away from another woman, she'd have no faith in me. 
 ... Go back to Miss Hargen. . . . Yes, you must!" 
 It was frightful to utter the command, but she spoke 
 the words without a hint of faltering. 
 
 Joseph listened, patiently. Now, at last, he realized 
 the fault that had been his when he spoke of duty 
 toward this woman whom he loved devotedly. For the 
 moment, he could contrive no words by which to make 
 clear the error into which he had fallen that error 
 by which he had been led to speak of duty in connection 
 with love for this adorable creature. He had been 
 wrong in all his plea to her. He had been guilty of 
 an insult by letting her believe that he haJ come to 
 her merely from a sense of duty. Now, how should 
 he correct the error? How must he set forth to her
 
 258 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 the true feeling of his heart? How could he make 
 her know the truth that was the one thing in the world 
 most important to him? . . . He hated himself for 
 that ignorance, so inexcusable, so incredible, which had 
 led him to urge her from a mistaken chivalry. He 
 should have known his own heart. He should have 
 told her the truth. Now, he must do so, but his own 
 fault had made the task hard, very hard. He must 
 make this girl understand that he sought her, not for 
 the satisfaction of a chivalrous impulse, but for the 
 gratification of his heart's desire.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 BY FORCE OF ARMS 
 
 THE interview between the lovers was interrupted 
 by a ringing of the door-bell, followed by sounds of 
 commotion in the passage. A moment later, Ada 
 Darkin rushed into the parlor, in a state of extreme 
 agitation. As Maggie and Joseph turned, startled, she 
 hurried toward her sister-in-law, with outstretched 
 hands. Fear was in the face, in the shaking voice : 
 
 "Oh, Margaret! Margaret! Jim's following me. 
 Don't let him in! Have the door locked." She was 
 panting, and paused for a moment to take a long 
 breath. But, before a question could be asked, she 
 went on speaking rapidly, under the impulse of terror : 
 "He's following me, I tell you. He found out I'm 
 going to leave him, going away. He's crazy about it. 
 He got the truth out of me, somehow. He struck me, 
 and I had to tell him. He threatens awful things 
 if we don't both of us Margie and me go West 
 with him to-night. . . . And he's following me 
 he'll be here in a minute. Keep him out !" The con- 
 cluding sentence was a wail of fright 
 
 259
 
 260 MAGGIE fEPPER 
 
 "Don't be afraid," Maggie said, soothingly. A vein 
 of contempt for the woman's cowardice ran in her 
 sympathy. "Probably, he's only trying to frighten you 
 into doing what he wants. I'll manage him, all right." 
 A sudden thought caused her to face Joseph. "You 
 must go right away," she directed. "If there's to be 
 any trouble here, you mustn't be mixed up in it you 
 understand that." 
 
 Joseph shook his head, in vigorous refusal. 
 
 "If, by any chance, this Jim is the chap that called 
 on you at the store the other day, I think I'd better 
 g|ay right here. I might come in useful." 
 
 "No, no!" Maggie protested; but she gave the 
 speaker a grateful glance. "It's the man, but you'd be 
 in the way. You must go." 
 
 At this moment, the door-bell sounded a second 
 time, a long, insistent ring. Ada shrieked at the sound, 
 and sank into a chair, half-fainting. 
 
 "There he is !" she shrilled. "Don't let him in ! Oh, 
 I'm so afraid !" She turned imploring eyes on Joseph. 
 "Oh, don't go, sir," she begged. "He's dangerous 
 dangerous !" 
 
 "Then, I shall most certainly stay," was the answer. 
 The young man turned to Maggie, with an apologetic 
 smile. "You see, my dear, I really have no choice. 
 Personally, I should be glad of an excuse for handling
 
 BY FORCfe OF ARMS 261 
 
 the fellow roughly I didn't like his looks the other 
 day. An old half-back doesn't mind a scrimmage, you 
 know." As Maggie still shook her head, he continued 
 peremptorily: "If you won't let me stay, I'll send a 
 policeman." 
 
 "Good God! Not that!" Ada cried out in new 
 alarm. She stood up, tottering. "Don't let the police 
 mix in this." 
 
 "It's too late for me to go now," Joseph declared, 
 for the caller was speaking to the servant in the pas- 
 sage. 
 
 "Then, get into the back room here quick!" 
 Maggie commanded. "And, whatever happens, don't 
 show yourself. There's been scandal enough about us. 
 . . . You ought never to have come here." She 
 whirled on the hysterical, cowering Ada. "You, too! 
 In with you both !" She fairly pushed the two out of 
 the parlor, and shut the door behind them. She had 
 had barely time to seat herself, holding a magazine as 
 if reading it, when Darkin swaggered into the room, in 
 advance of the protesting maid-servant. 
 
 "You may go, Johanna," Maggie said, quietly, 
 although her heart was beating double, for Ossa was 
 being piled on Pelion in the way of excitement to-night. 
 She waited until the maid had disappeared. Then, 
 she looked directly toward Darkin, who had stood in
 
 262 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 the doorway sullenly silent, somewhat abashed by 
 the girl's coolness. He was in the habit of intimidating 
 women : it was part of his stock-in-trade. "How dare 
 you come here?" she demanded. Her gray eyes were 
 undaunted, challenging. 
 
 But Darkin was not one to be repulsed easily. 
 Maggie's manner of disdain failed to disturb him in 
 the least. He sneered, and blustered : 
 
 "I want my wife that's what I want And I want 
 her quick! Do you get me?" 
 
 "You can't have her," the girl declared, stoutly. 
 "She's where you can't reach her. She's through with 
 you, for good and all. And, now, you get out of here 
 at once, or I'll set the police on you for breaking into 
 my apartment in this way." 
 
 "Oh, you will will you?" Darkin retorted, with a 
 malignant scowl. . . . Now, just you listen to me, 
 sweetheart it's for your own good, and no merry 
 jest. My wife came in here, and she hasn't gone out. 
 I'm wise, all right. Damn you, you little cat ! You've 
 been doing a neat job, breaking up my home, haven't 
 you? First, you grab my daughter; now, you've in- 
 fluenced my wife to quit me. Well, I'm going to queer 
 your game, right now." 
 
 "I took my niece from you because you're not fit to
 
 BY FORCE OF ARMS 263 
 
 have charge of her," Maggie stated, boldly. "As for 
 your wife, she's of age, and she's " 
 
 Darkin interrupted, with a burst of brutal laughter. 
 
 "Why, she's just as good as you are," he exclaimed ; 
 "and she's no good at all. You're a fine one to talk, 
 you are ! A peach of an example you're setting young 
 innocence, your niece, Zaza living openly with this 
 man, Holbrooke!" There came another volley of 
 mocking, ribald laughter. 
 
 Maggie sprang up from her chair, her face crimson, 
 her eyes ablaze. She moved close to Darkin, with 
 clenched fists raised, as if she would strike him down 
 for the insult. 
 
 "That's a lie !" she cried, fiercely. "You know it 
 a dirty lie, you brute !" 
 
 Darkin grinned evilly at the outraged girl. He was 
 enjoying himself just then. His nature found delight 
 in provoking such suffering wantonly. This young 
 woman had ventured to interfere with him : she must 
 be punished. Now, instead of recoiling before the 
 girl's fury, he merely glanced about the parlor in con- 
 temptuous appraisal. 
 
 "He might do a little better than this for you. I 
 always thought he was a piker!" He shifted his gaze 
 unconcernedly toward Maggie, who was choking with 
 wrath. "Where's Zaza?" he inquired, curtly.
 
 264 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 "Out of our reach!" The tones were husky, but 
 there was no weakening in them. 
 
 "Don't you get me r'iled up," Darkin warned. "I 
 don't want to be harsh with a lady oh, no!" A 
 savage leer gave emphasis to the speech. "To save you 
 the trouble of more lying, I guess I'll look around a 
 little. I'm awful worried about my wife she can't 
 bear to be separated from me a minute, poor critter !" 
 Smirking over his idea of humor, he started toward 
 the door of the back room. 
 
 "There's nobody there!" Maggie cried, desperately. 
 Instinct drove her to interpose herself in his path. 
 
 Darkin halted, and surveyed his opponent sardoni- 
 cally. 
 
 "What's the use of your taking so much trouble, if 
 there's nobody in there ? Get out of the way, darling ! 
 I tell you, I'm going in, and that's flat. . . . My wife 
 and the kid are in there I know, you fool. Get out 
 of the way, before it's worse for you." 
 
 "Oh, for your own sake, don't go !" Maggie pleaded, 
 frantically. "Yes, there is somebody there some- 
 body that'll break you in pieces." 
 
 "Hell !" the man growled. "Do you think you can 
 scare Jim Darkin off? Scat! Out of my way!" 
 
 "For God's sake, don't go into that room !" Maggie 
 breathed. Despair was on her face.
 
 BY FORCE OF ARMS 265 
 
 Darkin, however, paid not the least heed to her 
 plea. Instead, as he came to her, and still she did 
 not move, he seized her shoulders, swung her about in 
 spite of her resistance, and shoved her violently across 
 the room. The impetus was so great that she went 
 staggering, then, with a shriek of fear, fell headlong 
 on the sofa. She was half-swooning from the strain 
 she had undergone, but her brain was clear enough to 
 see and to hear what followed. She could not stir 
 from her place or scream could only gaze and hear, 
 affrightedly. 
 
 She saw the door of the back room swing open just 
 when Darkin's hand reached for the knob, and a body 
 shoot forth. Afterward, there was only the swirling 
 confusion of the two men, who, at grips, fought up 
 and down the narrow space of the parlor, without 
 word or cry from either. An age it seemed, before 
 the better brawn and skill of Joseph triumphed, and he 
 brought Darkin crashing down in a corner. It was 
 then, while the younger man gave his enemy a deserved 
 punishment, that Maggie beheld something so dread- 
 ful as to hold her frozer with horror. She would have 
 given her life for the power to scream a warning, but 
 she could not. Still fast in helplessness, she watched the 
 hand that rose behind Joseph's back, in which was a
 
 266 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 blue glint of steel. The report of the weapon broke 
 on her ears like the crack of doom. In the same in- 
 stant, she saw the form of Joseph sway slightly, and 
 topple to the floor. . . . Then, she lost consciousness.
 
 THE PERSISTENT INVALID 
 
 IT was only a matter of seconds until Maggie again 
 became aware of what was going on about her. As her 
 eyes unclosed, and her brain cleared, she first took 
 cognizance of Ada Darkin, whose white face was 
 framed by the doorway of the back room. From over 
 the woman's shoulder, Margie peered, her cheeks 
 flushed with excitement, her eyes like stars. The maid- 
 servant stood behind these two, staring timidly. Mag- 
 gie, from her position on the sofa faced the three, and 
 for a moment wondered as to the nature of the object 
 on which they had their gaze focused. She turned a 
 little, following the direction in which they looked, 
 and, at the sight, memory poured back in a flood. 
 With a stifled cry of agony, she threw herself forward, 
 without troubling to rise, and crouched on her knees 
 by the side of the man she loved. She raised his head 
 gently, pillowing it on her knees. She crooned over 
 the still form as a mother over a sleeping child. Her 
 lips rested on his. In this hour, he was hers at last 
 all hers ; for she believed that Joseph was dead. 
 
 267
 
 268 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 There came a quiver of the lips beneath her own. 
 The eyes of the man opened, gazed steadily into hers. 
 She realized now the fact that he still lived. The 
 knowledge aroused every atom of latent energy in her. 
 In a flash, she was metamorphosed from a dazed, 
 stricken creature of weakness into her usual alert, 
 shrewd self. She turned to the three in the doorway. 
 
 "Ada, hurry for the nearest doctor," she com- 
 manded. "Not a word to anybody else about this. . . . 
 Margie, bring me water and the gauze quick. . . . 
 Johanna, help me get him on the sofa. . . . Oh, 
 where's Darkin?" 
 
 Ada, at the door into the passage, paused tc reply 
 bitterly : 
 
 "Don't worry about him. He's far enough away by 
 this. Trust him to make his get-away." 
 
 "Hurry!" Maggie directed, crisply; and Ada went 
 out. 
 
 With the servant's aid, Joseph was raised to the 
 sofa, though the task tried the two women to the limit 
 of their strength, for now he had sunk into uncon- 
 sciousness again. The girl's hasty examination dis- 
 covered that the wound was in the left shoulder. She 
 cut away the clothing with the scissors brought by 
 Johanna, bathed the wound with infinite gentleness, 
 shuddering all the while, and bound the gauze about
 
 THE PERSISTENT INVALID 269 
 
 it as best she could. She had just finished this first 
 aid, when Ada returned, accompanied by the physician. 
 
 "Not in the least dangerous," was the professional 
 verdict, "unless complications set in, which is extremely 
 unlikely, as he seems in first-class condition. But he 
 mustn't be moved for a few days, if it can be helped. 
 How about it?" He addressed Mrs. Darkin. 
 
 It was Maggie who answered : 
 
 "He shall stay here, of course," she declared, 
 eagerly; and thus quickly the matter was settled. 
 
 In due time, the wounded man was got safely to bed in 
 Margie's room, and, at once, after regaining conscious- 
 ness, sent into a comfortable slumber by the aid of a 
 sedative. Ada, who had had experience in affairs of 
 the sort, set herself resolutely to the task of nursing. 
 Maggie, too, would have shared the watch incessantly, 
 but for the necessity of a private talk with the physi- 
 cian. When he was ready to go, she accompanied him 
 into the parlor, and there swore him to secrecy. It was 
 a task of some difficulty, since the man was honest and 
 believed it his duty to report the shooting to the author- 
 ities. Maggie attempted to convince him that the 
 wound had been self-inflicted; but the medical gentle- 
 man laughed in her face. 
 
 "Anatomically impossible," he averred, briskly. 
 
 At that, Maggie threw herself on his mercy. If
 
 270 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 she had been older and uglier, her task must have been 
 harder, perhaps even impossible. But the physician 
 was appreciative of beauty, and the woman beguiled 
 him. In the end, he conspired with her to keep the 
 affair hidden from the public, unless unforeseen devel- 
 opments should render another course advisable. 
 Johanna, who was loyal to her mistress, was made a 
 party to the pact. A little stealthy investigation on 
 her part revealed the fact that no one, so far as was 
 known, had heard the shot, or at least given heed to 
 it. Ada, naturally, had no desire for publicity, while 
 Margie was overjoyed at the tremendous secret in 
 which she was allowed to share, and wild horses could 
 not have torn the truth from her. As to the other 
 person concerned, Joseph, he was not in a condition 
 to be consulted, but his agreement might well be taken 
 for granted. 
 
 The shooting of Joseph in her apartment had a 
 profound effect on Maggie's affairs. It involved, 
 primarily resigning from her position with Green- 
 wald and Company, since she could not bring herself 
 to leave the bedside of the man to whom she had given 
 her heart. In consequence, she was out of employr: ;ent, 
 with the prospect of being speedily in want of money 
 for the necessities of life. This condition was too 
 menacing to be endured supinely, and after a few days,
 
 THE PERSISTENT INVALID 271 
 
 when the patient was progressing favorably toward 
 recovery, she set forth to secure another situation, 
 leaving the invalid to the care of Ada. 
 
 It was now that the girl learned for the first time 
 the excitement caused by the mysterious disappearance 
 of Joseph Holbrooke. The papers displayed columns 
 concerning the inexplicable manner of his vanishing. 
 Hargen had offered a reward of five thousand dollars 
 for accurate information concerning the young man, 
 living or dead. A new dismay filled Maggie while she 
 read. She realized suddenly that the ordinary diffi- 
 culties of maintaining such a secret as hers were in 
 this instance to be multiplied by the hue and cry after 
 Joseph. Everywhere, sleuths would be searching for 
 any clue, however slight: the task of evading them 
 would prove no easy one. 
 
 Yet, her distress over the danger in this direction 
 was not the worst of her troubles. The necessity for 
 employment was imperative, but she could secure 
 nothing of any sort. A few hints let fall here and 
 there made known to her that the failure was directly 
 due to Hargen, who, doubtless at the instigation of 
 his niece, was taking pains to trace her movements 
 and to vilify her wherever there seemed likelihood of 
 her finding favor. His situation in the mercantile 
 world gave weight to the manager's word. Maggie
 
 272 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 found herself wholly unable to prevail against it. She 
 dared not take any open action against him in self- 
 exoneration and self-defense at this time, because she 
 dreaded even beyond penury the possibility of more 
 scandal concerning herself and Joseph. Any publicity 
 for herself would almost certainly result in making 
 known the young man's secret confinement in her 
 apartment. The revelation of that fact would for- 
 ever taint the reputation of both, for no explanation 
 could avail against the seeming of guilt. 
 
 Sheer effort of will preserved for Maggie some 
 measure of cheerfulness through this ordeal. The 
 presence of Joseph in her home both comforted and 
 tortured her. It was a wonderful blessing to have him 
 there with her day after day ; it was heart-breaking to 
 cherish him so, yet to feel that they could never be all 
 in all to each other. As Joseph grew stronger, by 
 so much she withdrew from him. When he became 
 able to renew his suit, she refused it as before, for the 
 same mistaken reason into which he himself had led 
 her. Lest she disclose too much, she aped indifference, 
 coldness. The ruse grieved her frightfully; its effect 
 of the lover was precisely the reverse of what she 
 meant it to be it fattened desire. 
 
 The others of her household, however, did not share 
 in Maggie's sorrows. Ada was happier than she had
 
 THE PERSISTENT INVALID 273 
 
 been ever before in all her life, since she was at last 
 quit of Jim Darkin and the evils of which he was 
 the epitome. Margie, too, experienced only pleasure 
 from the turn of events. To be sure, she had been 
 robbed of a trip to Europe, but that was a joy deferred 
 nothing more. In the meantime, there was the 
 wonderful adventure, right there within her own home. 
 She approved of Joseph with all her heart, and she 
 and the patient soon became the best of friends. More- 
 over, Margie gave a sauce piquante to the happening 
 by romantic imaginings. Precocious in many ways, 
 the child suspected a love-affair beneath the surface in 
 this friendship between her aunt and the invalid. She 
 had observed the manner of Maggie in the early days 
 of the nursing, and from it she drew conclusions that 
 pleased her mightily. She was wise enough to guess 
 that the later coldness was probably assumed as the 
 mask of true feeling. 
 
 In addition to these sources of contentment, Margie 
 found a curious satisfaction in the companionship of 
 her mother, although there were drawbacks. The child 
 once ventured to bring one of these to Mrs. Darkin's 
 attention. For the purpose, she sought the kitchen 
 after dinner, where Ada was busy doing the dishes 
 a task she had appropriated to herself since the dis- 
 charge of the servant for economy's sake.
 
 274 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 "Do sit down and talk to me, mother," the child 
 begged, as she seated herself in a chair by the table. 
 
 "I haven't the time for it, dear," Ada replied. "I've 
 got the silver to clean." 
 
 Margie pouted. 
 
 "The silver!" she ejaculated, with great scorn. 
 "Why, we have only just a few plated pieces that don't 
 matter a bit. . . . But why is it that you won't ever 
 talk to me?" she continued plaintively. "You don't 
 seem to like to a single bit. It's just work, work, 
 work day and night, with you. "Honest, mother, 
 you do as much as three servants." 
 
 Ada paused for a moment, to regard her daughter 
 sadly. 
 
 "It's like that," she answered, rather vaguely. 
 "You see, I want to be a servant here. It's the only 
 way I can show how grateful I am to you and to your 
 auntie. I want to work to work hard! until I 
 get back my self-respect." 
 
 "Oh, that's all right," the daughter agreed, easily. 
 "But, mother, do, for goodness' sake, be happy about 
 it. Try and smile now and then." The seriousness of 
 the exhortation did, indeed, bring a smile to Ada's lips; 
 whereat the little girl clapped her hands gleefully. 
 "That's it !" she cried. "Cheer up !"
 
 THE PERSISTENT INVALID 275 
 
 "But, when I think of the past " the mother 
 
 began, grave again. 
 
 "Never mind the past," Margie urged. "It doesn't 
 matter what you were: it's what you are. Mother, 
 we're getting fond of you." 
 
 The heart of the woman suddenly throbbed with a 
 joy of which she had never dreamed. Her emotion 
 was so strong that a dizziness seized her for a second. 
 She could not fashion aught of the feeling into speech. 
 She could only answer, stumblingly: 
 
 "Oh, are you?" 
 
 "Of course we are!" Margie protested, energetically. 
 "And Auntie and I both are getting more tired every 
 day of having you eat your meals all by yourself in the 
 kitchen, the way you want to. And the idea of your 
 waiting on us all the time, just as if you were nothing 
 but a servant ! I tell you, we don't like it a bit." 
 
 "Oh, I must I must, for a time anyhow," Ada 
 cried. "You can't understand, dear, yet ; but I must !" 
 
 The child heard her aunt calling from the parlor, and 
 got up from the chair, somewhat reluctantly. 
 
 "Anyhow, you've got to come into the parlor when 
 you've finished the silver, and sit there and talk to us 
 to-night. Will you?" 
 
 The mother promised, albeit with an air of doubtful- 
 ness. When she had finished her work, she went first
 
 276 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 to visit the patient, in case he might require some 
 service. As a result of this, there was a faint smile 
 on her lips when, finally, she appeared in the parlor, 
 where Maggie and the child were seated at the table, 
 studying the advertisements of help wanted in a 
 number of papers. 
 
 "He's asking for a cigar," Ada explained, as Maggie 
 looked up. 
 
 "Well, then, he just can't have it," was the reply. 
 "He's had three to-day." 
 
 "I told him how you said smoking was bad for a 
 convalescent, but he seemed to prefer his own opinion." 
 
 "How is he?" Maggie asked, anxiously. She had 
 purposely avoided the invalid through two days. 
 
 Ada's answer was explicit : 
 
 "Well enough to go home and so I told him." 
 
 Maggie burst into laughter, which Margie echoed. 
 Even Mrs. Darkin smiled more frankly than was usual 
 with her. 
 
 "What did he say?" Maggie questioned. 
 
 "Oh, he was very polite about it," Ada replied, still 
 smiling; "but he told me to mind my own business." 
 
 She had hardly ceased speaking when a querulous 
 voice from the passage caused her to face about, while 
 Maggie and the child, too, looked up. 
 
 "My nurse didn't bring that cigar," was the com-
 
 THE PERSISTENT INVALID 277 
 
 plaint. Joseph, clad in a dressing-gown, and appear- 
 ing remarkably hearty for an invalid, stood smiling in 
 the doonvay. "I wonder, now," he went on, with a 
 sly glance in Maggie's direction, "if the head-nurse 
 wouldn't let you." 
 
 Ada improved this diversion of his attention from 
 herself to retreat into the kitchen, whither she was 
 followed by Margie, who was impelled to the pursuit 
 by a double motive : desire to reproach her mother for 
 thus escaping from the parlor contrary to promise, and 
 a wish to leave her aunt and the patient alone together 
 in the hope of tender developments. Maggie herself, 
 while she perceived the flight of the others, did not 
 resent it, since she was minded to speak plainly tc 
 Joseph. She did so the moment they were left alone 
 together : 
 
 "Mr. Holbrooke," she demanded, meeting his gaze 
 serenely, "when are you going home? You've been 
 here two weeks now. You're almost well. The doctor 
 says there's no possible danger in your moving at any 
 time. There's absolutely not a particle of excuse for 
 your staying here a single minute longer." 
 
 The young man advanced to a chair, and seated 
 himself with an ease of movement that gave point to 
 Maggie's statement. Comfortably ensconced, he re- 
 garded his hostess appealingly.
 
 278 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 "I really can't talk," he suggested, "until I get a 
 cigar." 
 
 Without a word, but with a gesture of impatience, 
 the girl sprang up, went out of the room, and quickly 
 returned with a single cigar, which, with a box of 
 matches and an ask-tray, she placed on the table within 
 reach of Joseph's hand. While she returned to her 
 seat, the young man thanked her, then set the cigar 
 alight. This accomplished to his satisfaction, he 
 leaned back in his chair, and surveyed Maggie with an 
 expression of extreme amiability. 
 
 "I'm having such a bully time here," he said finally, 
 under the urgence of her accusing stare. "It's glorious 
 dead to the world, you know, and all that sort of 
 thing. No one knows where I am, though there are 
 plenty trying hard enough to find out. Newspapers 
 full of -my sudden disappearance. Lots of hopefuls 
 looking for that five thousand dollars reward Hargen 
 offered for the recovery of my body, dead or alive. 
 . . . Stingy beast ! I fancy I'm worth more than that. 
 And can you imagine any better fun than reading your 
 own obituary, which I do every day?" 
 
 "Well, you've got to come to life," the girl ex- 
 claimed. There was a determination in her tones that 
 alarmed the listener. He showed no least sign of 
 trepidation, however, as he answered :
 
 THE PERSISTENT INVALID 279 
 
 "I shall not leave here, Margaret, until you have 
 consented to be my wife." 
 
 The girl made a movement of weariness. Her voice, 
 too, rang dejectedly when she spoke, and the warm 
 eyes were full of reproach. 
 
 "I ought to have sent you to the hospital in the first 
 place," she said. "If only I hadn't been so afraid of 
 police interference ! Now, you may be found here any 
 minute. You're sure to be, sooner or later. And think 
 of the scandal, then ! It would be so much worse than 
 at the start! Oh, to have everybody know that you 
 had been living secretly here in my apartment, while 
 you were being looked for everywhere ! It would ruin 
 you it would kill me, I guess." 
 
 Joseph's face had grown concerned. 
 
 "Never mind, dear," he besought her. "You only 
 "did what you thought was for the best. . . . And it 
 was, I think." 
 
 "It was the worst thing I could have done," Maggie 
 persisted. "There's only one way out : You must go 
 go at once. Every second of delay now increases 
 the danger of your being discovered here, and that 
 would be too horrible !" 
 
 Her distress was so great that Joseph, who loved her, 
 had no will to resist. 
 
 "I'll go this very night," he agreed, sadly. "I sup-
 
 280 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 pose I ought to. ... There's a midnight train 
 
 I'll get down to New Orleans, I think, then catch a 
 steamer to Europe. Over there, I'll suddenly return 
 to Paris from some remote place where I couldn't get 
 the news. I'll learn about being missing or dead, and 
 I'll come back to life. For the rest, the curious ones 
 can fight out the why's and wherefore's among them- 
 selves. . . . That'll do for a rough program, I fancy." 
 Joseph smoked for a little time in silence, his face 
 grave with thought. Maggie, watching him secretly, 
 took a saddened pride in the wholesome charm of the 
 man, wondered how she could ever endure life sepa- 
 rate from him, after this intimate association. She was 
 still regarding him wistfully, when, looking up swiftly, 
 he caught her gaze. Instantly he spoke, in a voice 
 soft, yet very firm : 
 
 "Margaret, I wish you to answer me one question. 
 You must tell me the truth, too. . . . Why won't you 
 marry me?" 
 
 A quick exasperation drove the girl to candor. She 
 had suffered so much through this man whom she 
 loved ! She could not endure much more. His insist- 
 ence on this subject of their marriage inflicted needless 
 suffering. She would make him to know that she was 
 aware of the whole truth. Though she worshiped 
 him, she longed now to wound him this much. . . .
 
 I SHALL NOT LRAVE HERR, MARGARET, UNTIL YOU HAVE CONSENTED TO BE MY WIFE.
 
 THE PERSISTENT INVALID 281 
 
 Lovers are cruel as often as are other folk oftener, 
 alas! 
 
 "Mr. Holbrooke," she said slowly, while the gray 
 eyes held his eager ones with an inscrutable expression, 
 "you first spoke to me of love and marriage after a 
 row with your fiance, when you were afraid of 
 scandal for me. It was to save me from that scandal 
 that you offered to do the 'right thing,' as you deemed 
 it. Well, leaving out the question of love on my part, 
 for it doesn't enter into this, the idea of reparation, or 
 duty, or moral compulsion of any sort, as a motive for 
 marriage, is horrible to me. It means a sacrifice, and 
 I don't want you to sacrifice yourself for me I 
 don't want you that way I won't have you like 
 that!" Her emotion had deepened while she was 
 speaking; there was a little wildness in her voice. 
 
 "Good God!" Joseph cried, aghast. "I tell you, 
 Margaret, you're wrong wrong !" 
 
 Maggie's manner was grown quiet again when she 
 answered : 
 
 "Oh, it may be that I am just now. But it's 
 better to be wrong on the right side than right on the 
 wrong side. Why, Joe," she went on, with a heavenly 
 tenderness in her voice as she called him so familiarly 
 yet once again, "you're just a great big, impulsive 
 boy, with an infinite capacity for doing the wrong
 
 282 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 thing. Just at present, your impulse is to marry me. 
 But I think too much of you to let you do it. I won't 
 take any chance of your getting another impulse some- 
 time, in a different direction. You see, if I don't 
 marry you, it won't break your heart: if I do, it 
 might." 
 
 Joseph jumped up with a liveliness that argued his 
 complete recovery. 
 
 "See here, Margaret," he said, coming to her, and 
 bending over until his face was close. "You say I'm 
 impulsive. Well, I believe you. And I know one 
 thing : You can control my impulsiveness you can 
 do what you please with me. No one else has ever 
 been able to do that. Ethel never did : she never could. 
 You have done it : you can do it again always. Isn't 
 it right that you should take me in hand? You know 
 how I've talked to you about the family, my duty to 
 the ancestors, and all that. Well, you can make me 
 do them honor. I love you I believe you love me, 
 
 because once, when you looked at me, you But 
 
 never mind the love part now, as you said. The thing 
 is, dear, I need you oh, I need you so !" 
 
 Joseph stooped still lower. Despite invalidism, he 
 raised the girl, as once before, and drew her into his 
 arms, although she struggled against it. He lifted her 
 face to his, while one arm held her fast to his breast.
 
 THE PERSISTENT INF A LID 283 
 
 He looked down into her eyes, alight with soft wonder. 
 His voice rang very gently, yet wholly masterful : 
 
 "I need you so much !" 
 
 "I never thought of that," the girl confessed in a 
 swift shyness, and her eyes fell. She fought to flee 
 from his embrace, as once before she had fought. But, 
 now, the man was grown wiser, and he did not let 
 her go. Instead, he lifted her face a little more toward 
 his, then set his lips on her mouth. . . . And because 
 he had not yielded her up, she forgot everything save 
 rapture, and her lips clung to his.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 NEW PERIL 
 
 THERE were innumerable themes that required dis- 
 cussion by the lovers. Through the hours, they talked 
 on and on, and never before had been conversation so 
 strange and splendid. There were intervals, too, when 
 not a word was spoken, and these were even more 
 strange and splendid. Margie went down the passage 
 toward the parlor-door to say good-night, but she 
 went with discreetly quiet steps, for reasons of her 
 own, and she paused while she was yet at some distance 
 from the entrance. It was a faint sound that she 
 heard from the parlor, but it had halted her on the 
 instant. She retreated at once, but a murmured word 
 in a man's voice rang in her ears. She was dancing 
 with delight when she rejoined her mother, because 
 her romantic anticipations bade fair to be realized. 
 So, she presently went to bed without the usual kiss 
 to her aunt, and Mrs. Darkin, too, betook herself to 
 rest. But the two in the parlor took no note of time. 
 
 Though there was now the bliss of mutual love 
 284
 
 NEW PERIL 285 
 
 confessed, enough of difficulty and danger remained 
 in their path to bring their thoughts betimes back to 
 earth from heaven. They plotted in detail the manner 
 in which Joseph should contrive his escape secretly 
 from the apartment, and the subsequent return to life 
 in Europe. They were more than ever afraid now of 
 any mistake by which the truth might become known. 
 The scandal that must ensue, were the fact of his 
 sojourn in Maggie's home to become known, would 
 be such as to embitter their lives. ... It was during 
 the consideration of this subject that they discovered 
 the lateness of the hour, which was past midnight 
 too late for his departure to-night, as he had planned. 
 They were so happy in the delay thus secured before 
 their parting that they worried hardly at all over the 
 change, although both were aware that every moment 
 of his presence in the flat added to the peril of dis- 
 covery. When, at last, they separated for what was 
 left of the night, it was in happy unconsciousness of 
 the fact that their fond dalliance was destined to set 
 at naught all their scheming. 
 
 Nevertheless, such was the result, and the first 
 warning of disaster came late in the afternoon of the 
 next day. Margie, who had been sent out on an 
 errand, passed through the parlor on her return, and
 
 286 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 stopped for a moment's chat with her aunt. In her 
 hand, she carried a letter, which Maggie observed. 
 
 "Is it for me?" she questioned. She was hoping 
 that it might be a reply from some one of the adver- 
 tisers for help to whom she had written. She was still 
 anxious concerning a situation, which must be secured 
 to tide over the period of Joseph's absence. She had 
 been too proud to make known her necessity to the 
 lover, and he had failed to consider it, although in- 
 formed as to the manner in which money had been 
 extorted from her. Now, her face fell as she listened 
 to the first word of the child's answer; then, speedily, 
 a lively alarm showed itself. 
 
 "No," Margie said, carelessly; "it's for mother. It 
 was a man downstairs gave it to me. I never saw him 
 before. He asked me a lot of questions about Mr. 
 Darkin. And he wanted to know if he wasn't up here. 
 And, then, he asked me the name of the man that was 
 staying up here." 
 
 Maggie's face had whitened now. 
 
 "You didn't tell him !" she gasped. The imminence 
 of the peril set her to trembling. 
 
 "No, indeed, I didn't!" Margie replied, proudly. 
 She felt herself almost indignant with her aunt for 
 asking such a question. The secret concerning Joseph's 
 presence in the flat was regarded by her as a sacred
 
 NEW PERIL 287 
 
 trust, which she would have guarded with her life. 
 Besides, it was her dearest treasure in her estima- 
 tion the most important thing that had ever come into 
 her life. But she subdued the little irritation against 
 her aunt, and hurried away to give her mother the 
 letter. 
 
 In this crisis, as she deemed it, Maggie's first thought 
 was to summon her lover to consultation. He was 
 lying down in order to prepare against the unaccus- 
 tomed fatigue of the coming night. This had been 
 the girl's edict, and he had obeyed, although most 
 unwillingly. Now, Maggie did not scruple to break 
 in on his repose. In response to her call, he appeared 
 almost immediately, still wearing the regalia of in- 
 validism robe and slippers. 
 
 "Couldn't do without me any longer," he declared 
 whimsically, as he came into the room. But a glance 
 into the girl's pale and frightened face banished the 
 smile from his lips. "What's the trouble, now?" he 
 demanded. His face had hardened in a second; he 
 looked ready for combat, ready for victory, too. Even 
 in her troubled state of mind, Maggie found time to 
 rejoice over the resolute strength in her lover's bearing. 
 Quickly, she explained what had happened. 
 
 "You see, Joe," she ended, you must go now, at 
 once!"
 
 288 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 "Yes," he agreed. "I'll get ready, and leave the 
 minute it's dark. That won't be more than an hour 
 now." He went to Maggie, and kissed her. "Don't 
 you worry, little girl," he said, soothingly. "Be sure 
 I'll manage it, somehow." 
 
 She looked up at him wistfully, the red lips tremu- 
 lous for fear. 
 
 "If only we hadn't been so so foolish last night !" 
 she murmured. 
 
 Joseph shook his head energetically, and, despite 
 the gravity of the situation, smiled radiantly. 
 
 "Darling," he whispered, "that was worth every- 
 thing! Why, just think, if I had gone without that 
 foolishness !" 
 
 Doubtless, there would have been another interval 
 of delay, notwithstanding the danger of it, had not 
 the ringing of the door-bell necessitated Joseph's re- 
 treat into the seclusion of the bed-room. To Maggie's 
 astonishment, the visitor proved to be Mrs. Thatcher, 
 whom she welcomed warmly. The detective wasted 
 no time in coming directly to the point. Scarcely were 
 the two women seated when the elder explained her 
 mission : 
 
 "I've come to see you, my dear, on a very important 
 matter. . . . There's no one to overhear, I hope." 
 Maggie shook her head. "Well, then, it's like this:
 
 NEW PERIL 289 
 
 I'm going to betray professional secrets in order to 
 help you out. It seems to be getting a habit with me 
 to sacrifice my duty for your sake." 
 
 Maggie, whose face was still pale from the other 
 fear, showed now an added anxiety in her expression 
 over Mrs. Thatcher's ominous beginning. 
 
 "Is it anything serious?" she asked, in much trepi- 
 dation. 
 
 "That's as it may be," was the enigmatic reply. 
 "All that I know is just something I picked up by 
 chance, and I think you ought to be informed about it. 
 It may mean trouble for you, and it may not: you'll 
 know fast enough. I was at police headquarters this 
 morning. I was there on another case, but it so hap- 
 pened that one of the central-office men told me a bit 
 of news. It seems that Jim Darkin, the husband of 
 your sister-in-law, killed a man in Denver last week. 
 He made his get-away, all right. They're sure he's 
 come East. And, more than that, they've got reason 
 to think he's here in New York City. And there's 
 still more, Maggie: They believe that you're hiding 
 him right here in your flat!" The detective paused, 
 and stared sympathetically at her friend. 
 
 Maggie shrank back, with an ejaculation of sur- 
 prised alarm. The fact was so contrary to anything
 
 2 9 o MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 she had guessed that, for the moment, she was com- 
 pletely at a loss. She had feared the finding of some 
 clue which might lead the searchers to suspect Joseph's 
 presence in the apartment, but the possibility of the 
 man's presence in her home being known, while his 
 identity was mistaken for that of another, had never 
 entered her mind. So, in the presence of the revela- 
 tion, she could only sit gazing helplessly. 
 
 "They suspect me of hiding him. Jim Darkin!" 
 Her tones came brokenly. But, quickly, her brain 
 cleared again. "Now why on earth should they do 
 that?" 
 
 "You would understand, if you stopped to think a 
 bit," the detective answered. "You see, his wife is 
 here. The police, of course, have kept track of Mrs. 
 Darkin, more or less, although I've convinced them 
 now that she's given up the old life and associations 
 for good. Well, then, Darkin is wanted for murder, 
 or homicide at least, out in Denver. They have reason 
 to believe he's in New York. Naturally, he would try 
 to get his wife's help in keeping out of the way. They 
 know she's here. So, they investigate, and they find 
 out that you have a man concealed on the premises. 
 Under the circumstances, they're bound to think they've 
 located their man. Aren't they?"
 
 NEW PERIL 291 
 
 "Ye-es," Maggie admitted, in great perturbation. "I 
 suppose so." 
 
 "Now, you know, Maggie," Mrs. Thatcher went on, 
 speaking with a certain brusk kindliness, "that I 
 don't know anything at all about this man's business 
 here. I didn't come to pry, though that's my profes- 
 sion. I've come here to give you warning and that's 
 my pleasure, my dear." She smiled a little over her 
 balanced phrases. "But," she concluded, suddenly 
 grave again, "I must tell you one thing: If you really 
 are trying to conceal this man, the fact will get out, 
 and it will make you a marked woman for the rest of 
 your life." 
 
 "Marked me !" Maggie ejaculated, in utter exas- 
 peration. The color came to her cheeks again, and her 
 voice had its old-time ring of music. There was the 
 flippancy of desperation in the words that followed: 
 "Great heavens, Thatch, I'm tattooed all over now!" 
 
 Mrs. Thatcher, however, did not smile at the out- 
 burst. On the contrary, she shook her head porten- 
 tously : 
 
 "You must get him away," she advised. "Do it 
 quick ! And don't, for mercy's sake, have anything to 
 'do with him again ever !" 
 
 Maggie suddenly aroused to knowledge that the 
 detective really believed Darkin to be sheltered in the
 
 292 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 apartment. She had forgotten to deny the fact in trie 
 confusion of her thoughts over the peril in this latest 
 development. She hastened to correct her friend's 
 error : 
 
 "But he isn't here," she protested. "This is the last 
 place in the world that he'd come to." She smiled 
 grimly, whereat the observant detective wondered, for 
 she knew nothing of the fight between Darkin and 
 Joseph in the flat. 
 
 "So much the better," she declared, crisply. "Well, 
 my business or pleasure, rather is done, and I'll 
 be off." She would have risen, but Maggie put forth" 
 a detaining hand. It had occurred to her that the 
 detective could counsel her in this emergency more 
 wisely than could any other person. Prudence directed 
 her to make a confidante of Mrs. Thatcher. 
 
 The girl's purpose was hindered for a time by the 
 appearance of Ada, who stopped short in manifest 
 terror as she beheld her old enemy, the detective. 
 
 "Don't mind me," Mrs. Thatcher said to the trem- 
 bling woman. "By-gones are by-gones ; and I'm glad 
 to see you here, and looking so well." 
 
 Mrs. Darkin showed her relief over this speech, and 
 smiled in response, albeit wanly. 
 
 "I only wanted to ask about this letter," she ex- 
 plained apologetically to Maggie. "I didn't know
 
 'NEW PERIL 293 
 
 there was anybody with you. It's from some old friend 
 of Jim's. A man downstairs gave it to Margie. He 
 wants to know if he can see Jim here." 
 
 "It's a stall," the detective commented, tersely. "A 
 plain-clothes man sent the letter, of course. Don't 
 answer it." She turned briskly to Maggie. "Oh by 
 the way, they've found Mr. Holbrooke." 
 
 The girl was startled so that she uttered a little cry. 
 She regarded her friend with widened eyes. What 
 could the woman mean ? 
 
 "Have they?" she questioned, feebly. 
 
 "Yes," Mrs. Thatcher replied, studying the girl 
 shrewdly. "That is to say, they've found his body in 
 the river. They haven't identified it yet, not positively ; 
 but they seem to be sure it's the right one. I only 
 heard the news a short time ago. I don't know any 
 details, except that it's a suicide." 
 
 Maggie listened with a sense of unreality. There 
 was a sort of ghastly mockery in hearing this account 
 concerning the dead body of the man who was very ' 
 much alive, indeed, not more than a rod away. 
 
 "I don't understand about him," the detective con- 
 tinued, musingly. "What earthly reason was there for 
 him to commit suicide? Of course, that's what the 
 evidence seems to indicate, from all I heard. But, for
 
 294 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 the life of me, I can't guess what would drive him to 
 kill himself. Can you?" 
 
 "Great heavens ! No !" Maggie exclaimed, in much' 
 distress at the possibility contained in the question. 
 "No!" she repeated, with increased emphasis. 
 
 "Well, if you don't know, who should?" Mrs. 
 Thatcher remarked, carelessly. "I should think you'd 
 have known if anybody did, you saw him so much. 
 Anyhow, it's a great pity happening just after he'd 
 gone to work so, and with everything flourishing. It 
 would make your heart ache, Maggie, to see things 
 down there at the store, now. Everything's all upset. 
 Hargen seems to have lost his head completely, and 
 he's more swollen up than ever, too. He's discharged 
 all his best help nobody can guess why, unless it's 
 just to save money. There aren't enough now to do 
 the work, though it's falling off fast. I guess Hol- 
 brooke's suicide will finish the business altogether. It 
 looks that way to me, and my judgment is all right, I 
 fancy. . . . Haven't you ever seen him since since 
 he quarreled with the woman he was going to marry? 
 We all knew about that, because someone overheard 
 him and Hargen having a row over it. But haven't 
 you seen him since, Maggie?" She waited for a 
 moment, inquisitively; but there was no answer forth' 
 coming from the girl, who remained silent, with an
 
 NEW PERIL 295 
 
 air 01 embarrassment, her eyes downcast As a matter 
 of fact, she was trying to adjust her reply in such wise 
 as to make it contain exactly the safe degree of candor. 
 Mrs. Thatcher, however, took it for granted that the 
 question was distasteful, and she hastened to make an 
 end of the subject: "Well, it's not properly my busi- 
 ness, and I withdraw the question, besides promising 
 not to ask you any more. . . . And, now, I must be 
 off. Good-bye, dear." 
 
 For the second time, Maggie was unwilling that the 
 interview should terminate. She looked up swiftly, 
 as the detective started to rise, made sure that Ada had 
 slipped away to the kitchen, and spoke nervously : 
 
 "Tell me, please, Mrs. Thatcher, how does she bear 
 it? -I mean, Miss Hargen. Is she suffering much, 
 have you heard since the quarrel you spoke of, and 
 his disappearance?" 
 
 The detective nodded her head violently, and her 
 rough features took on an expression of commiseration. 
 
 "She certainly is," she declared, "from all I can 
 Hear. They say she's about as unhappy as a woman 
 can be. She hates you like poison, of course." Mag- 
 gie winced, but uttered no protest. "Luckily, she 
 blames nobody except herself for Mr. Holbrooke's 
 committing suicide."
 
 296 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 Maggie's next question was spoken very softly, 
 falteringly : 
 
 "Do you think she's really really fond of him?" 
 
 Mrs. Thatcher hesitated for a little before replying. 
 When, finally, she made answer, it was with more than 
 a hint of ambiguousness : 
 
 "Oh, yes," she declared, indifferently; and then, 
 with more earnestness: "As much, perhaps, as a 
 woman of that sort can care for anybody except 
 Herself." 
 
 Maggie remained silent a full minute, reflecting 
 deeply, while the detective watched with a speculative 
 eye. There was much in the whole situation, as far 
 as it concerned Joseph Holbrooke and the two girls, 
 that puzzled Mrs. Thatcher. It was her nature to 
 search out the full explanation of anything that aroused 
 her curiosity. Her interest in such solutions was the 
 prime factor that rendered her an excellent detective. 
 In this present case, her friendship for Maggie pre- 
 vented her from such investigation as she might have 
 made concerning another person, but that same friend- 
 ship did not serve as a bar to curiosity ; on the contrary, 
 it whetted inquisitiveness. So, now, she observed the 
 girl closely, and in the scrutiny found something to 
 confirm a suspicion that lurked in the back of her mind.
 
 NEW PERIL 297 
 
 Suddenly, Maggie spoke, still without raising her 
 eyes: 
 
 "Will you take a message to her from me?" 
 
 The question startled the detective out of her usual 
 composure. There was a trace of discomfiture in her 
 voice when she replied : 
 
 "Why, certainly, Maggie, if you want me to." 
 
 The girl brought out the next words roughly, as if 
 she thrust them forth by an effort of her whole 
 strength : 
 
 "Then, tell her he isn't dead !" Mrs. Thatcher 
 cried out excitedly, and her mouth opened for a ques- 
 tion; but Maggie's gesture was imperative. "That's 
 all I can tell you now please, don't ask me for a 
 word more. I can't tell you anything. But you'll 
 give her my message, won't you ?" 
 
 The detective sprang to her feet; she was bristling 
 with excitement. 
 
 "Bless your heart, dear," she exclaimed animatedly, 
 "you needn't worry about my delivering the message. 
 I'll give it to her just as quick as a taxi, will get me to 
 the house, if she's at home ; and, if she isn't, I'll hunt 
 until I've found her." . . . She beamed on her aston- 
 ished hostess, who, also, had risen, and was now 
 regarding the elder woman's behavior with much be- 
 wilderment. "You see, Margaret," was the explana-
 
 298 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 tion, "I think there's five thousand dollars for me in 
 this message to Ethel Hargen the reward, you 
 know." . . . Then, abruptly, Mrs. Thatcher's expres- 
 sion changed. "Why, no," she exclaimed, regretfully ; 
 "the reward belongs to you." 
 
 "Gracious, no!" the girl cried, in consternation. 
 "Don't you understand that I can't appear in this in 
 any way that I wouldn't for a million dollars 
 reward ?" 
 
 But Mrs. Thatcher was obdurate. She was a woman 
 of strong convictions, and she cherished a profound 
 respect for her conscience. Just now, her conscience 
 told her that the reward should rightly go to Maggie ; 
 therefore, nothing else would content her. The girl 
 argued in vain; she could not persuade the detective 
 to another mind in the matter. But, finally, an inspira- 
 tion came to her, and she offered a compromise. If 
 Mrs. Thatcher would claim the reward in her own 
 name, Maggie would accept one thousand dollars of it 
 for herself. She was moved to do this by the fact that 
 she was in a sad plight financially, and the money 
 would prove a blessing indeed. She had no scruple 
 against taking the sum from Hargen. Moreover, the 
 project appealed to her sense of humor, since it was 
 as the result of her own and Joseph's machinations 
 that the reward had come to be offered at all. She
 
 NEW PERIL 299 
 
 made known her decision to the detective, and, after a 
 brief argument, it was gratefully accepted. . . . Forth- 
 with, Mrs. Thatcher departed in haste, eager to be 
 first with news worth five thousand dollars. 
 
 Left alone, Maggie's first thought was of Joseph. 
 At once, after receiving the message through Mrs. 
 Thatcher, Ethe! Hargen, or her father, or both, would 
 come in search of more precise information, which 
 would not be given. But that inquiries would be 
 directed against her and those in the apartment could 
 not be doubted. There was, too, the danger at hand 
 from the mistaken inferences of the police concerning 
 the whereabouts of James Darkin. Obviously, then, 
 Joseph must take flight without another second of 
 unnecessary delay. . . . She opened her lips to call 
 him.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 AN INVITATION FOR THE MARQUIS 
 
 THE Marquis de Brensac, having just completed the 
 reading of a fourteenth century memoir, reflected with 
 pride on the valor of his ancestor at the battle of 
 Slouys, as therein narrated ; for the brave warrior had 
 refused to retreat when the tide of battle turned against 
 him, while all others of his troop fled for their lives, 
 he alone fought on, until he fell dead. 
 
 The marquis had been deeply stirred. His heart 
 was thrilled by imaginations of such splendid deeds. 
 Ah, those were the days of glorious adventure ! To-day 
 could offer nothing such. Of old time, a man might 
 go forth to fight for fame and the honor of his lady. 
 Nowadays, even romance was become a lackadaisical 
 thing, and adventure was wholly dead. The marquis 
 was, of course, unjust; he exaggerated. But there 
 was excuse for him, since he suffered from discontent 
 over his own tedious routine of life. Yet once again, 
 he was yearning for some connection, however remote, 
 with the deeds of dering-do. He fretted for any least 
 part in wild adventure. 
 
 300
 
 AN INVITATION 301 
 
 How great, then, must have been his delight, could 
 He but have known the singular truth as to the recent 
 happenings in the life of his American acquaintance, 
 Monsieur Holbrooke: that he himself, there in the 
 library of his ancient castle by the Mediterranean, had 
 engineered Joseph to the course in which he had 
 fought with desperate valor, had been wounded sore, 
 had done all this for a lady fair, had made conquest of 
 the maiden's heart, and had still more to undergo ere 
 the end of his trials! Surely, the knowledge must 
 Have filled the mourning nobleman with joy. Alas, he 
 guessed nothing of the adventures he had wrought, 
 and so sat on, forlornly bored. 
 
 It has been stated that Joseph had still more to 
 undergo in the way of difficulty and danger before 
 coming to the end of his adventures. He himself, in 
 Margie's chamber, was blissfully ignorant of the 
 approaching peril, the while he dressed himself in 
 readiness for flight from the apartment, which had 
 ' been planned to take place as soon as night was come. 
 Already, the shadows had drawn down, and he hurried 
 his preparations, partly for the sake of prudence, and 
 more for desire to be with Margaret again. No 
 shadow of the impending cast gloom on the radiance 
 of his spirits. 
 
 With Maggie, however, the case was otherwise. To
 
 302 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 her, the disaster was made known at the very moment 
 when she opened her lips to summon him to her side. 
 ... A slight noise at the window caught her ear. 
 She turned, and saw a man standing within the room, 
 who had evidently made his entrance by way of the 
 fire-escape. 
 
 Despite the fact that the newcomer was a very per- 
 sonable man, the girl regarded him with horror. Such 
 is the effect of emotional bias on vision. She deemed 
 him hideous, because she suspected his errand there. 
 She believed that his presence in her home meant evil 
 for the one she loved. In the first second, that thought 
 brought faintness ; her knees grew weak, sight blurred, 
 she sickened with terror. But, in the next second, the 
 same thought brought back her strength, added to it, 
 since the lover's salvation might hang on her ability. 
 So, she addressed the intruder with an air of boldness, 
 so well assumed that it deceived the fellow : 
 
 "What do you want here ? How dare you enter my 
 apartment in this fashion ! I shall send for the police." 
 
 The man, though much impressed by her courage, 
 and more by her beauty, was not, unfortunately, dis- 
 concerted in the least degree. On the contrary, he 
 smiled, as he answered: 
 
 "Please, don't take the trouble, miss ; the police are 
 already here."
 
 AN INVITATION 303 
 
 Maggie uttered a half-sob of dismay at this verifica- 
 tion of the worst fears. 
 
 "The police!" she gasped. "You mean >you are 
 a detective?" 
 
 The man nodded, amiably enough. He was really 
 sorry to alarm this exceedingly attractive young 
 woman. 
 
 "Yes," he said. "I've got a warrant for the arrest 
 of James Darkin, and I must take him in. ... I know 
 he's here," he added confidently, though in truth his 
 assumption of certainty was no more than surmise. 
 
 "Did he get in here by way of the fire-escape? Is 
 that why you came in that way ?" Maggie questioned, 
 artlessly. 
 
 "I think you already know about his part of it," 
 the detective retorted, somewhat nettled. 
 
 "I know nothing about James Darkin," Maggie de- 
 clared. "His wife told me he had gone West, she 
 thought. He isn't here. ... I don't understand your 
 reasons for acting in this underhanded way. Why did 
 you choose to come in by the fire-escape? Why didn't 
 you come by the door, like a respectable person? I 
 don't believe you're a detective, after all !" 
 
 The man exhibited his shield, and also condescended 
 to make some explanation: 
 
 "I'm alone in this," he said, "because this capture
 
 304 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 means a good bit of money. I took the window, 
 because I thought I might catch him napping. He 
 can't get out now without my seeing him. While I 
 was ringing the bell, he might have dodged away by 
 the same means I took to get in." 
 
 "He might, if he were here," was Maggie's cold 
 comment; "but it so happens that he isn't here. And 
 that ends it!" 
 
 "Oh, not quite !" the detective affirmed, grimly. The 
 young woman was particularly delightful in the matter 
 of looks, but her obstinacy was somewhat trying to 
 the temper. "It won't end until I've had a look about." 
 
 The sound of the man's voice had penetrated to the 
 kitchen. Ada, by some sixth sense developed out of 
 her many experiences with the representatives of the 
 law, was sure of the visitor's character instantly, but 
 a horrible fascination drew her toward the scene to 
 make certainty more certain. So, she tiptoed cau- 
 tiously along the passage until she had reached the 
 parlor-door, where she peered cautiously within. At 
 her heels followed Margie, who had been with her in 
 the kitchen, and the child, by a like instinct, guessed 
 what this thing might mean. One glance convinced 
 Ada as to the justice of her fears, and she turned 
 instantly to flee. But the detective, too, had a subtlety 
 of perception that was equal to instinct, by reason of
 
 AN INVITATION 305 
 
 his training. His gaze took in the two faces in the 
 doorway, and forthwith his voice rang out trium- 
 phantly : 
 
 "Oh, how do you do, Mrs. Darkin and Zaza, too ! 
 Well, well ! All we need now is Papa Darkin, to make 
 our family party quite complete. Let's hope he'll not 
 keep us waiting." 
 
 This ill-timed jocularity, naturally, met with no sym- 
 pathetic response on the part of the three auditors. But 
 it had the effect of causing Mrs. Darkin and Margie to 
 abandon the idea of withdrawing. Maggie, still main- 
 taining an air of indignation over the invasion of 
 her home in such summary fashion, repeated her 
 denial : 
 
 "I tell you, the man you want is not here." 
 
 "Papa isn't here, if he's the one you're looking for," 
 Margie declared, giving Darkin that designation in 
 her excitement from this renewal of old-time asso- 
 ciation. Ada, too, uttered a vigorous disclaimer of her 
 husband's being in the apartment. She added, with 
 bitterness that would have been convincing to anyone 
 save a policeman, that she had no idea as to his where- 
 abouts, nor wished any information concerning him 
 unless it related to his being in jail or dead. 
 
 The detective saw fit in the exercise of his duty 
 practically to ignore the various declarations of the
 
 306 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 three, while formally accepting them. To this end, 
 he shifted his ground. 
 
 "Well, then," he inquired pleasantly of Maggie, "can 
 I see the gentleman who is hiding in these apart- 
 ments?" He waited for a moment. Since no reply 
 seemed forthcoming, he added, suggestively : "I mean 
 the one the letter-carrier saw yesterday morning, and 
 the milk-boy this morning." 
 
 "I have told you before, and I repeat it," Maggie 
 cried angrily, "that this Mr. Darkin is not here." 
 
 "Do you smoke cigars yourself?" the detective 
 asked, suddenly. He pointed to the ash-tray, where a 
 butt was lying. 
 
 "I permit some friends to smoke in my presence," 
 the girl replied, without a second of hesitation. 
 
 "You did that extremely well," the man admitted, 
 generously. "But I happen to know that no gentleman 
 has called on you within a few days. And you look 
 too neat to leave a thing like that lying about very long 
 on your parlor-table." He picked up the piece of cigar, 
 and sniffed at it. "That cigar was burning not an 
 hour ago," he stated, positively. "You can tell by the 
 staleness in the smell." He turned again to Maggie. 
 "I'd be glad to spare you any trouble possible," he 
 said ; "but I really must search this place unless you
 
 AN INVITATION 307 
 
 are willing to save you and me the bother of it. 
 Won't you?" 
 
 Mag-gie stamped her foot, petulantly. The terror 
 that gripped her heart was not betrayed in voice or 
 appearance, when she answered. She played her part 
 capitally, for love's sake : 
 
 ''Do you suppose I'd hide a murderer in my apart- 
 ment? You'll have to get busy on some other clue." 
 
 The officer smiled mockingly. 
 
 "That's the time you gave yourself away, miss," 
 he announced, and a note of triumph sounded in his 
 tones, at which the girl wondered with new fear. 
 "There's been nothing printed in the papers about 
 Darkin being wanted for murder. It's been kept secret 
 here. I've said nothing about it. ... How did you 
 know?" 
 
 Immediately, then, the afflicted girl realized the pit 
 that she had dug for herself. She could not betray her 
 informant, Mrs. Thatcher. For the first time, she 
 lost her self-control. The color flooded her cheeks; 
 the gray eyes wavered and fell before the detective's 
 exulting gaze; she could not find a single word of 
 exculpation. 
 
 It was at this critical moment that a diversion 
 occurred. Just as the detective was about to press 
 home his triumph over the girl who had so defied him,
 
 308 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 he was startled by the appearance of another person 
 on the scene one who, most assuredly, was not James 
 Darkin. The baffled officer stared in chagiin at the 
 newcomer, for, in the first second, he was convinced 
 that this man was in truth the person who had been so 
 mysteriously housed here. It was not Darkin, for a 
 certainty. The denouement disgusted the detective 
 beyond measure. He had regarded the reward offered 
 for Jim Darkin's apprehension as surely his. He 
 regarded the gentleman who had appeared in the door- 
 way so abruptly with open disapprobation. The fact 
 that the latest arrival on the scene was a particularly 
 good-looking person, with an unusually excellent 
 figure, rather smartly dressed in a business-suit, com- 
 forted the disappointed officer not at all. He felt that 
 this fellow had wantonly cheated him out of a very tidy 
 sum, which he had already counted as his own. 
 
 "But it ain't Darkin!" he reflected aloud. "That's 
 positive !" 
 
 Then, as he continued to gaze at the man, during 
 the silence that had fallen, the disgust on his face faded 
 swiftly. In its stead came first doubt, next hope, 
 finally conviction all this within the twinkling of an 
 eye. Joy shone from him. Despair had become rejoic- 
 ing as by a miracle. Here, ready to hand, was more
 
 AN INVITATION 309 
 
 money than he had just lost. Again, he soliloquized 
 now, in triumph : 
 
 "No, it's not Darkin not a bit like him. But 
 he does look very much like a certain missing gentle- 
 man, whose picture has been in the papers lately, and 
 has been sent out from headquarters, too, and whose 
 description is posted in every police station for the 
 instruction of police officials." He grinned compla- 
 cently, and his gaze darted back to Maggie, almost 
 vindictively. 
 
 She met the challenge with one word, flung scorn- 
 fully : 
 
 "Ridiculous!" 
 
 The detective was not disturbed by her air of dis- 
 dain. 
 
 "And there's five thousand dollars reward for in- 
 formation about that chap," he concluded, gloatingly. 
 
 During the brief time since his appearance, Joseph 
 had maintained a discreet silence, awaiting the turn 
 of events for his own guidance. Now, however, he 
 realized that his opportunity was come. He stepped 
 into the room, without any trace of hesitation or em- 
 barrassment, and approached the detective closely. He 
 smiled pleasantly, as he spoke : 
 
 "That missing gentleman will give twice the amount 
 of the reward if the police official who discovered him
 
 3 io MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 will hold back the desired information for just one 
 hour. This isn't anything like compounding a felony. 
 I have committed no crime. I've merely disappeared, 
 and there's nothing against that in the statutes. But 
 I do want to keep the thing quiet, for reasons of my 
 own. I'm willing to pay for secrecy. Would you like 
 the money?" 
 
 The ringing of the door-bell broke in on the nego- 
 tiations between Joseph and the detective. Instinc- 
 tively, the young man fled to the seclusion of the 
 bed-room, when Ada, at a gesture from Maggie, went 
 into the passage. ... It was Mrs. Thatcher who 
 entered. She stopped short in the doorway of the 
 parlor, as her eyes fell on the officer. 
 
 "Why, it's Bailey!" she exclaimed, in evident sur- 
 prise. 
 
 The cent:-al-office man was no less astonished on 
 beholding Mrs. Thatcher, and ejaculated her name 
 energetically. 
 
 "You're not here on business, are you ?" the woman 
 demanded, suspiciously. 
 
 "Indeed, I am," was the curt reply. "I'm here on 
 the Holbrooke case, and I can tell you something: 
 The reward is not going to be divided." 
 
 "Divided ! Well, I should say not !" Mrs. Thatcher
 
 AN INVITATION 311 
 
 retorted, sharply. "Do you know why? Because it's 
 mine, and I want it all." 
 
 "Good Lord !" the policeman cried, with high indig- 
 nation. "Do you mean to say that you've gone and 
 butted into my business ?" 
 
 "On the contrary," was the serene answer, "you've 
 been so foolish as to butt into mine. Unfortunately 
 for you, Mr. Bailey, you won't get a chance even 
 at that five thousand. Permit me to extend to you my 
 sympathy." 
 
 "We'll see about it," the man growled. 'Til send 
 in the information at once." In his irritation of the 
 moment, he had quite forgotten Joseph Holbrooke's 
 proposition to him. 
 
 "It's all attended to, thank you, Mr. Bailey," Mrs. 
 Thatcher declared, with an air of great kindliness. 
 "You really cannot be of the slightest service to me in 
 the matter, although I appreciate the generosity of 
 your offer." 
 
 The sleuth threw out his hands in a gesture of in- 
 dignation. 
 
 "You women are simply ruining our business," he 
 exclaimed, violently. "You seem to have no sense of 
 professional honor." He turned his back rudely, and 
 stared out of the window, pondering angrily as to 
 the course he should best pursue.
 
 3 i2 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 Mrs. Thatcher improved the opportunity to explain 
 to Maggie the reason of her return. Hargen himself 
 was coming to the flat immediately, was, in fact, 
 already on his way, would arrive at any instant. She 
 had wished to warn Maggie of his intention. As a 
 matter of fact, the manager of Holbrooke and Com- 
 pany was at the door as his detective took her depar- 
 ture. Maggie recognized his voice, as he spoke to 
 Ada, who let him in. She turned imperiously to the 
 man from the central office. 
 
 "Get into the kitchen, out of the way," she com- 
 manded. She had suddenly shaken off the apathy that 
 the rapid succession of events had laid upon her, and 
 was again the mistress of all her energy and resource. 
 "You remember the proposition that Mr. Holbrooke 
 made to you? Well, just go out there and talk with 
 Mrs. Darkin, who'll keep you company and Margie, 
 too." She smiled at her niece to emphasize the hint 
 as to withdrawal. "Mr. Holbrooke will see you very 
 soon, and arrange the matter. I wish to speak to Mr. 
 Hargen privately. Hurry, please." 
 
 Her manner was so masterful that the detective 
 obeyed, almost without volition, and he was promptly 
 escorted to the kitchen by Margie, who was enjoying 
 herself hugely. Maggie nodded a direction to Ada, 
 as she appeared to announce Hargen, and the woman
 
 AN INVITATION. 313 
 
 in turn quickly retreated, leaving the manager of Hol- 
 brooke and Company face to face with his former 
 employee. The girl had as yet no idea of the method 
 she meant to pursue, but she was filled with courage 
 now, ready to wring victory from defeat for the sake 
 of the man she loved, and, too, for the sake of her own 
 life's happiness. 
 
 Holbrooke halted in the doorway, and glared at the 
 girl. 
 
 "So!" he said, with insulting emphasis, the while 
 he plucked viciously at a wisp of whisker. His blood- 
 less face was even more wan than its wont. "This is 
 where Joseph has hidden himself. How long has he 
 been here?" 
 
 "Ever since he disappeared," Maggie replied, evenly. 
 Some instinct taught her the answer, and she followed 
 its leading blindly, although reason bade her kc;-p 
 silence. 
 
 The revelation filled Hargen with wonder and rage. 
 
 "You dare confess it !" he exclaimed ; and a tinge of 
 color, summoned by excitement, crept slowly into his 
 cheeks. "You've been living together like this, all the 
 time, you " 
 
 "Hold on, Hargen!" 
 
 The interruption came in a low, but very dangerous, 
 voice. It was Joseph whom the manager faced as he
 
 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 whirled about. One glance into the countenance of 
 that usually placid young gentleman caused Hargen to 
 shrivel visibly. There was fire in Joseph's eyes, and 
 his jaw was thrust forward, savagely. He looked 
 capable of anything ! Just then, Maggie understood 
 the leading of instinct that had been vouchsafed her : 
 It was to bring her to this issue, when Joe should 
 appear. The whole matter was in his hands. Nothing 
 mattered now. He would do all needful. There could 
 be no more trouble. He would clear every obstacle 
 from their path to happiness. She had given him her 
 love, she had confided her life to his keeping. Very 
 well, then, she would trust him absolutely. Hargen 
 did not matter, or Ethel, or anyone, or anything. 
 Joseph would make all right. She stood watching him, 
 in glad content, curiously 1 , without any shadow of 
 apprehension. . . . And she was justified. 
 
 "Hargen," Joseph said, and his voice was menacing, 
 "you will sell me your shares in Holbrooke and Com- 
 pany at the market price, and get out. As soon as I've 
 installed a new manager, I shall marry Miss Pepper. 
 You will see to it that your niece doesn't bother me 
 or anyone I care for. If she does, you'll go to jail. I 
 "don't think she'd like that. Make her understand. I've 
 Had an expert on the books, evenings, for some time, 
 and, if you and that precious niece of yours don't
 
 AN IN FIT AT ION 315 
 
 behave, the facts will come out. Your juggling with 
 the accounts was well done, Hargen only, it wasn't 
 done well enough not quite. But I'll give you time 
 to pay up what you've embezzled. . . . Now, do you 
 understand ? Answer !" 
 
 "I understand." The old man's voice was only a 
 mumble; his face was ghastly. The degradation of 
 his aspect was revolting to the girl who looked on. 
 
 "I don't like to threaten a woman," Joseph con- 
 tinued, "but, in Ethel's case, I don't mind so much, 
 because she showed herself to me recently in such 
 wise that I can't think of her with any respect what- 
 ever. "I'll see her, if necessary if you think you 
 can't control her. She's a terror, I know, and so do 
 you. Can you handle her?" 
 
 Hargen nodded. He was too much overcome for 
 any audible reply. 
 
 "It'll be the devil of a job," Joseph insisted. His 
 memory of the last interview with his former fiance 
 was still strong within him. "You're sure you can 
 manage her, all right ?" 
 
 Once again, the old man nodded, more emphatically. 
 Doubtless, it was in agreement with all Joseph had 
 said concerning his niece. 
 
 "Then, get out!" the young man commanded,
 
 316 MAGGIE PEPPER 
 
 brutally. He watched in silence as the figure turned 
 and went out with shambling steps. 
 
 He faced Maggie with a smile. 
 
 "There's just one thing more," he said. "I'll shut 
 up that detective. That'll keep our little secret safe." 
 He hurried to the kitchen, from which he returned, 
 beaming, within five minutes. The detective passed on 
 his way out, as Joseph addressed Maggie once again. 
 
 "Everything's all settled, and we'll live happy ever 
 after," he announced, and his voice was vibrant with 
 joy. He drew the girl into his arms, and kissed her 
 tenderly. 
 
 It was perhaps five minutes later, when, at last, 
 Joseph spoke aloud once more : 
 
 "I'm going to invite the Marquis de Brensac to our 
 wedding," he announced. 
 
 Maggie looked up into her lover's face with a great 
 surprise in the warm gray of her eyes. 
 
 "Now, who on earth," she questioned, "is the Mar- 
 quis de Brensac ?" 
 
 "Why, he's the fellow that did all this," Joseph 
 replied happily, as he drew the girl closer, and kissed 
 her lingeringly on the red, curving lips. Then, since 
 she insisted, he explained to her the part played in his 
 destiny by the nobleman over-seas. "And so," he con- 
 cluded, "we must bid him to our wedding."
 
 AN. INVITATION, 317 
 
 "I never did think much of those foreign titled 
 chaps," said Maggie Pepper ; "but, things being as they 
 
 are " she snuggled contentedly within her lover's 
 
 arms "why, I say, God bless the marquis." 
 
 "Amen !" quoth Joseph.
 
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